bath-room boy goes off duty at ten, and it'snow close on twelve."
"Then I must have slept nearly twice the round of the clock!" cried theother in surprise.
"Going on that way," laughed Tom, diving into his portmanteau andfishing out several garments. "My `duds' are most of them packed awayin my trunks," he went on, "and they, you know, are down in the holdwith the rest of the heavy luggage; but I'll do my best to turn you outrespectably. By the way, what's your name?"
"George--George Maurice Weston."
"Well, George, here's a pair of white flannel `bags,' and a dittoshirt--they're my old cricketing `togs;' but I thought they'd come inuseful during the voyage, and so left 'em out. Here's a jacket, ratherthe worse for wear, and that stupid fellow, the second steward, capsizeda plate of soup over it the other night--see, there are the stains, downthe right shoulder and arm! But you won't mind that?"
"Not a bit," put in George, taking the unlucky garment. "I've learntnot to be over particular."
"There's a collar, a cravat, and a pair of socks; and there's a pair ofshoes--nice, easy ones, too. Now, look alive, old chap; slip 'em on,and then we'll go and get some grub."
Rattling on in this manner, Tom helped his new friend to dress--orfitted him out "from truck to kelson," as he expressed it; for Tom hadbecome very nautical in his language since he joined the _SuratCastle_--and then surveyed him with a critical eye.
"Come, that's not so bad! you look less like an ancient Briton now,"said he, crowning young Weston with a cricket cap upon which wasembroidered the school-house badge. "Feel a bit queer though at first,eh, George Maurice?"
"Rather so," George answered, wriggling himself. "The shoes and socksare the worst. You see I've gone barefoot for such a precious longtime. However, I shall no doubt get accustomed to them in a day ortwo."
"Of course you will," assented Tom. "Now come along and I'll introduceyou to the ladies; we have five on board--three married women and twogirls. Won't they make a fuss over you and that little sister ofyours!"
When our hero and his friend made their appearance on deck they foundMr Weston (now shaven and shorn, and clad in a suit of true nauticalcut, the property of Mr Weatherhelm) standing near the skylight talkingto the skipper and Mr Rogerson, the chief mate of the _Surat Castle_.
"Halloa!" he exclaimed, catching sight of his son's head-gear. "I oughtto know that cap."
"It is the Rugby school-house cap," said its owner with conscious pride."We have only lately worn them; but I've heard old school-house men saythat they were introduced years ago--long before Arnold's time--butdropped out after a while."
"That's quite right," rejoined Mr Weston. "I am an old Rugby boymyself, and well remember the school-house badge being introduced. Itmust be nearly five-and-thirty years ago," he added with a sigh, "when Iwas about little Grade's age."
"Why!" Tom cried, his interest in the family increasing fourfold, "youmust have been at Rugby with my father! Flinders is his name--Major--"
"Not dear old Matthew Flinders surely?" interrupted the other, "whoafterwards went into the Cape Rifles?"
"The same," answered Tom, nodding his head. "Did you know him?"
"Know Mat Flinders! Why, my dear boy, your father was the best andtruest friend I ever had! But it is many, many years since we met. Youmust tell me all about him."
Tom was delighted at this discovery, and he there and then proceeded togive Weston a full account of his father's doings, and of their farmnear Cape Town; in the midst of which he was interrupted by the stewardannouncing that "tiffin was on the table."
"Well," said the boy as they entered the saloon together, "they say theworld is very small, and that one tumbles against friends andconnections in all manner of queer places; but I should never havedreamed of meeting an old school-house man, a chum of the _pater's_, ona desolate island in the South Atlantic Ocean."
The Westons soon became favourites with both the officers and cabinpassengers of the _Surat Castle_. Mr Weston himself was a well-bred,well-informed man of pleasing address and manners; in person tall andpowerfully built (old Weatherhelm was the only one on board whoapproached him in height), with a handsome but rather sad countenance,and dark curly hair just slightly grizzled.
George Weston, though he had not had the advantage of a public-schooleducation, was as nice a lad as anyone could wish to meet; well-behavedand intelligent, quiet and studiously inclined. He was in his sixteenthyear, had a pleasant bright look about his face, and was slight offigure, but active and sinewy withal.
As for Miss Gracie, when she recovered her spirits and got over hershyness, she became the life and soul of the ship; and must inevitablyhave been spoiled had she not been blessed with a sweet unspoilabledisposition. As Tom had prophesied, the lady passengers made a greatdeal of Gracie and her brother, for their tender womanly heartsoverflowed with compassion when they heard of the misfortunes andsufferings of the family.
It was not until he had been on board nearly a week that Mr Weston gavea full account of the loss of the _Sea-mew_, and of his previousadventures; but one Saturday, when the cabin party were seated round thedinner-table chatting over their wine and walnuts, Captain Laddssuggested that he should spin them a yarn.
"Willingly," replied Mr Weston, pushing away his plate; "and as we areall friends here I will also give you a brief sketch of my career beforeI became skipper of a South Sea whaler. My life has been a chequeredone, and not devoid of adventure, so I trust my story will interest you;anyhow, I feel assured that I am secure of your sympathy."
And without further preamble Weston commenced his yarn, to which we willdevote the next chapter.
CHAPTER FOUR.
MR WESTON'S STORY.
"I have already stated," began Mr Weston, "that I was educated atRugby, where I first became acquainted with our young friend's father.Mat Flinders and I were both school-house boys, and we shared the samestudy, fagged for the same sixth-form boy, belonged to the same form,and no doubt--if the truth is to be told--were often flogged with thesame birch; so we were, as a matter of course, firm allies.
"Shortly before my fourteenth birthday I was offered a midshipman'srating on board the _Thetis_, a fine 36-gun frigate which had been takenfrom the French and purchased into the navy in 1808; and as my father--aretired rear-admiral who had served with distinction under Keppel andRodney--was determined that I should follow in his footsteps and serveKing George afloat, I bade farewell to the old school and all my chumsand journeyed down to Chatham, where the frigate was `fitting foreign.'
"Those were stirring times in the navy, I can tell you, my friends! andour captain was no niggard of shot and shell; indeed a more dashingofficer never trod his majesty's quarter-deck!
"His invariable rule was to engage every Frenchman under a `74' that hefell in with, and he certainly managed to fall in with a good many; sothat during the four years I remained in the _Thetis_ I saw my share offighting, and was twice wounded--once when engaged in a `cutting-out'affair, and again in action with a 50-gun ship, which I'm proud to saywe took.
"Having powerful interest at the Admiralty it was not long before Ireceived my commission, and when barely twenty years of age I wasappointed second lieutenant of the _Dido_, a corvette on the West Indianstation.
"My messmates regarded me as one of fortune's special favourites, butthe `fickle goddess' treated me scurvily enough in the end; and if mypromotion had been rapid, at any rate I was not destined to enjoy it forany length of time.
"Whilst at Jamaica I stumbled up against my old school-fellow, MatFlinders, then a lieutenant in the --th Foot. Mat was quartered atKingston, and as the _Dido_ had been docked to undergo certain repairswe saw a good deal of each other, and renewed our friendship.
"But now it was that Dame Fortuna began to frown upon me, or perhaps itwould be more honest to say that I incurred her displeasure by my rashconduct. It so happened that I had the ill-luck to offend my captain, aman of imperious overbearing temper; high words ensued between
us, andin a moment of ungovernable passion I knocked him down. Of course myprospects in the navy were for ever blighted; no provocation could beurged as an excuse for such a gross act of insubordination; no interestwith the `powers that be' could shield me from the consequences of myrash act.
"A court-martial assembled, and I was tried, found guilty of the chargespreferred against me, and sentenced to be dismissed his majesty'sservice.
"My fair-weather friends gave me the cold shoulder, for Captain B--was anear relation of the Governor and a man of considerable