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Mind your own business, Jerry, said the mate, interrupting the flow of the poets inspiration.
Sure its that same Im doin, sir, replied the man, respectfully touching his cap as he advanced towards the gong that surrounded the windlass and uncovered it. Dont ye see the fog a-comin down like the wolf on the fold, an aint it my dooty to play a little tshune for the benefit o the public?
Jerry hit the instrument as he spoke and drowned his own voice in its sonorous roar. He was driven from his post, however, by Dick Moy, one of the watch, who, having observed the approaching fog had gone forward to sound the gong, and displayed his dislike to interference by snatching the drumstick out of Jerrys hand and hitting him a smart blow therewith on the top of his head.
As further conversation was under the circumstances impossible, John Welton and his son retired to the cabin, where the former detailed to the latter the visit of the strange gentleman with the keen grey eyes, and the conversation that had passed between them regarding Morley Jones. Still the youth remained unmoved, maintaining that suspicion was not proof, although he admitted that things now looked rather worse than they had done before.
While the father and son were thus engaged, a low moaning wail and an unusual heave of the vessel caused them to hasten on deck, just as one of the watch put his head down the hatch and shouted, A squall, sir, brewing up from the nor-east.
Chapter Three.
A Disturbed Night; a Wreck and an Unexpected Rescue
The aspect of the night had completely changed. The fog had cleared away; heavy clouds rolled athwart the sky; a deeper darkness descended on the shipping at anchor in the Downs, and a gradually increasing swell caused the Gull to roll a little and tug uneasily at her cable. Nevertheless the warning light at her mast-head retained its perpendicular position in consequence of a clever adaptation of mechanism on the principle of the universal joint.
With the rise of the swell came the first rush of the squall.
If they dont send the boat at once, youll have to spend the night with us, Jim, said the mate, looking anxiously in the direction of the sloop belonging to Morley Jones, the dark outlines of which could just be seen looming of a deeper black against the black sky.
Its too late even now, returned Jim in an anxious tone; the boat, like everything else about the sloop, is a rotten old thing, and would be stove against the side in this swell, slight though it be as yet. But my chief trouble is, that the cables are not fit to hold her if it comes on to blow hard.
For some time the wind increased until it blew half a gale. At that point it continued steady, and as it gave no indication of increasing, John Welton and his son returned to the cabin, where the latter amused himself in glancing over some of the books in the small library with which the ship was furnished, while the sire busied himself in posting up the ships log for the day.
For a considerable time they were silent, the one busily engaged writing, the other engrossed with a book. At last Mr Welton senior heaved a deep sigh, and said, while he carefully dotted an i and stroked a t
It has always been my opinion, Jim, that when boys are bein trained for the sea, they should be taught writing in a swing or an omnibus, in order to get em used to do it in difficult circumstances. There she goes again, he added, referring to a lurch of the vessel which caused the tail of a y to travel at least two inches out of its proper course. Now, that jobs done. Ill turn in for a spell, and advise you to do the same, lad.
No, Ill go on deck and have a talk with Dick Moy. If the gale dont increase Ill perhaps turn in, but I couldnt sleep just now for thinkin o the sloop.
Please yourself, my son, an youll please me, replied the mate with a smile which ended in a yawn as he opened the door of a small sleeping berth, and disappeared into its recesses.
James Welton stood for a few minutes with his back to the small fireplace, and stared meditatively at the cabin lamp.
The cabin of the floating light was marvellously neat and immaculately clean. There was evidence of a well-ordered household in the tidiness with which everything was put away in its proper place, even although the fair hand of woman had nothing to do with it, and clumsy man reigned paramount and alone! The cabin itself was very smallabout ten feet or so in length, and perhaps eight in width. The roof was so low that Jim could not stand quite erect because of the beams. The grate resembled a toy, and was of brass polished so bright that you might have used it for a looking-glass; the fire in it was proportionately small, but large enough for the place it had to warm. A crumb or speck of dust could scarce have been found on the floor with a microscope,and no wonder, for whenever John Welton beheld the smallest symptom of such a blemish he seized a brush and shovel and swept it away. The books in the little library at the stern were neatly arranged, and so were the cups, plates, glasses, salt-cellars, spoons, and saucers, in the little recess that did duty as a cupboard. In short, order and cleanliness reigned everywhere.
And not only was this the case in the cabin, but in every department of the ship. The bread-lockers, the oil-room next to the cabin, the galley where the men livedall were scrupulously clean and everything therein was arranged with the method and precision that one is accustomed to expect only on board a man-of-war. And, after all, what is a floating light but a man-of-war? Its duty is, like that of any three-decker, to guard the merchant service from a dangerous foe. It is under command of the Trinity Corporationwhich is tantamount to saying that it is well found and handledand it does battle continually with the storm. What more could be said of a man-of-war? The only difference is that it does its work with less fuss and no noise!
After warming himself for a short time, for the night had become bitterly cold, Jim Welton put on one of his sires overcoats and went on deck, where he had a long walk and talk with Dick Moy, who gave it as his opinion that it was a wery cold night, and said that he wouldnt be surprised if it wor to come on to blow arder before mornin.
Dick was a huge man with a large expanse of good-natured visage, and a tendency to make all his statements with the solemnity of an oracle. Big and little men, like large and small dogs, have usually a sympathetic liking for each other. Dick Moys chief friend on board was little Jack Shales, who was the life of the ship, and was particularly expert, as were also most of his mates, in making, during hours of leisure, beautiful workboxes and writing-desks with inlaid woods of varied colours, which were sold at a moderate price on shore, in order to eke out the monthly wage and add to the comforts of wives and little ones at Ramsgate. It may be added that Jack Shales was unquestionably the noisiest man on board. He had a good voice; could sing, and did sing, from morning till night, and had the power of uttering a yell that would have put to shame the wildest warrior among the Cherokee savages!
Jack Shales kept watch with Moy that night, and assisted in the conversation until a sudden snow storm induced young Welton to bid them good-night and retire below.
Good-night, said Shales, as Jims head was disappearing down the hatchway, stir up the fire and keep yourself warm.
Thats just what I mean to do, replied Jim; sorry I cant communicate some of the warmth to you.