*CHAPTER XV.*
*THE LITTLE CABIN.*
The captain indulged in an afternoon nap, to be in readiness for awatchful night; and the fog grew thicker and heavier as the evening cameon.
The great lantern was lighted early, and the wall of fog reflected thelight back in a weird, ghostly way upon the boys, who sat in the bow,dreading to go down into the little cabin.
"I feel as if we were shut up in a tomb of fog," said Ralph dismally.
"Well, if 'misery likes company,' it may make you happier to know theother boys are in the fog too, over on the island," returned Ben.
"Yes, but they have solid ground under their feet, and are not likely tobe run down as we are; besides, they'll have a jolly time in spite ofthe fog. I know I could if I were on shore and not sea-sick, and thatfog-horn of Marcus's didn't sound so dismal. I wonder how many blastshe blows in a minute?"
"Let's go to bed; morning will come quicker," exclaimed Ben indesperation.
"If we could only sleep."
"Well, we did pretty well last night."
"Pretty well; but the cabin is so fishy and musty, and my stomach rollsover so many times in a minute, I can't sleep," complained Ralph.
"'Hark, from the tombs, a doleful sound,'" said Ben, and then laughed inspite of his discomfort. "We sit here and croak like a couple of ravens,and Marcus toots that everlasting horn; let's go below and try that," hecontinued.
Ralph arose and staggered to the cabin steps, said good-night to thecaptain and Marcus, and, followed by Ben, crept into his berth. Bentried to sing one of the school glees to cheer himself and friend, andforget his sea-sickness.
"Oh, hush, Ben! That makes me as homesick as a cat. I tell you thatlittle room of ours at school was an awful cosy place, after all. Justthink of that bed. We used to call that hard."
"Yes, and that grate where we had a fire on cold nights."
"We used to rail at it and call it stuffy, but if we were only there nowI'd feel like dancing."
Ben struck up another tune, and hummed it through, chorus and all, totry to keep from utter wretchedness.
Ralph was quiet till he finished; then he said,--
"Ben, Mr. Bernard is a good man. He had the right of it about thatlying business. I hate myself for it."
"So you said before," answered Ben, beginning another air.
"I know it," interrupted Ralph, "I mean it more and more. I mean neverto deceive any one again."
"Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore;' anyway never till you get into troubleagain," said Ben.
"I don't care how great the trouble may be, I'll confess and be true.Do you know I tried saying last night what the captain told us he said.Somehow I never liked before to think the Lord was looking at me, butnow I am glad he is, for he can see I really mean to do better."
"It's queer you feel that way. I don't see any use worrying over alittle lie. I've told dozens of them, and I never felt bad about it. Ifeel uncomfortable enough now, but I reckon it's my stomach and not mymind. I say, let's go to sleep."
This was easier to say than do, and both boys tossed and rolled inmisery with sea-sickness, home-sickness, and fear, until from sheerexhaustion they fell asleep.
The morning dawned foggy, and foggy the day ended. The next day waslike this; and the boys were too sick and worried to taste a mouthful offood. The fog did not prevent the fishing, and the two men kept busywith their lines, or their work of dressing the fish, and had littletime to devote to the boys, even if they had known what to do for them.
"I wish the two little land-lubbers were safe ashore," was the ferventremark uttered over and over again by the captain, as he and Marcusworked together.
"A storm is coming, and this fog will get blown higher than a kite," theboys heard the captain say.
"Yes, it feels like bad weather," was Marcus's answer, as he gave a wiseglance around their foggy prison and blew a long blast on the big horn.
"Hear that, Ben?" asked Ralph.
"What? The horn? Yes, I hear it."
"No! Didn't you hear what Captain Dare said? We've got to have a stormafter all. In this little vessel, too. It will go down, sure as theworld," and Ralph grew paler than ever. Ben felt very much as hisfriend did, but said less.
"I hear another horn, captain."
"Yes!" said the captain, listening.
Marcus blew again long and loud; and again was answered from out in thefog. After a while the two vessels came within hailing distance, andRalph, seized with a sudden longing, rushed up to the captain, and saideagerly,--
"O captain, it's a larger vessel than this! Don't you suppose theywould take us aboard? If there is going to be a storm, I would ratherbe in a large vessel; this is such a little egg-shell."
"Egg-shell! not a bit of it. But I'd like nothing better than to getrid of you. I don't want passengers to look out for in a gale. Mylittle smack has rode out many a storm, but I'd rather be alone with myone man."
"Oh, ask them! beg them!" urged Ralph, more and more excited.
"Tell them we've got money to pay with," added Ben a little morequietly.
The captain laughed, but gratified them by hailing the brig. "Here aretwo boys, sea-sick and scared; storm coming; no accommodation. Can youtake them off my hands?"
"We are bound out," came the answer from the vessel, whose outlines wereonly dimly seen through the fog.
"Never mind where they are bound, tell him," said Ralph, pulling thecaptain's arm; "we don't care."
"We've no room for passengers," added the invisible speaker on the brig.
"Nor I neither," grumbled the captain of the smack. "I ought to haveknowed better than to take 'em;" then aloud he added, "They'll die offright on my hands if there comes a tough gale."
"Who are they?" asked the voice in the fog.
"Two young scamps that belong to a school that's gone on Whaleback tocamp. Leastways that's what I guess.--Isn't it so, boys?"
"Yes."
The vessels were soon far apart, and the boys, disappointed in theirhopes, sat down by the captain to watch him splice a rope.
"How did you know we belonged to that school? and how did you know wherethey were going to camp?" they asked.
"I guessed at one and heard the other. They told me on the wharf thatBernard's school was going to camp on Whaleback; and when that boat cameby, and you two ran for the cabin so sudden like and kept so still, Iput two and two together and made four easy enough without a slate orpencil."
"That's because you are an old tar," said Ben.
"But I haven't figgered out yet what you wanted to run away from thatcrowd for! It seems to me if I was a fellow of your age I'd rather goto camp than go aboard a fishing-smack and be sea-sick and scared todeath."
Neither of the boys cared to answer.
"You had some reason, I suppose. I'd really like to know it. Tell metruly now--were you lying when you said your folks were willing youshould come?"
"We didn't say just that. We said they didn't expect us home for amonth, and they don't," said Ralph; then, regardless of Ben's frown ofdisapproval, he added, "I'll tell you how we happened to leave them. Idid a mean thing--a shabby joke that didn't turn out the way Imeant--and then when Mr. Bernard told the boy who did it to stand, Ididn't dare to."
"Of course you didn't!" said Ben apologetically.
"No 'of course' about it!" said the captain abruptly. "An honest boynever gets out of a scrape in a mean way."
"Well, I know it now, but I didn't dare to stand up. And then he pulledthe line tighter by telling any one who knew the boy who did themischief to stand; and Joe Chester was the only fellow that confessed toknowing. He gave us several chances on that, and tried to shame us outof lying; and at last, as long as Joe Chester wouldn't tell, Mr. Bernardsaid unless the other fellow confessed, Joe would have to lose hiscamping-out time with the crowd."
"Did you own it?" asked the captain.
"
Not then. I felt meaner than dirt; but I was afraid I'd be expelled.It went on that way till the night before the school left for theisland; then I couldn't stand it to have Joe left behind, and I up andwrote a note and left it for Mr. Bernard, confessing all."
"And what did you have to do with it, Ben?" asked Captain Dare,wondering why Ralph had not mentioned him.
"I? Oh, I knew about it, but I wasn't going to tell on Ralph."
"Then you got behind me to keep out of their way," said Captain Dare."Well, what is going to be the end of it all?"
Ralph shook his head.
"None of us know, and that's a fact, boys! But it ought to be a lessonto you to keep truth on your side. Lies never pay."
"So I believe," said Ralph in sober earnest.
"I begin to think so too," said Ben. "Anyhow, these didn't."
"Now's the time to take a fresh start, then; and I hope we'll all of uslive so we can be glad to have the Lord see all we do and hear all wesay,--yes, and know all we think, too. That's the tough part--the heartis such a queer thing. Sometimes it looks all fair and smooth, and wefeel pretty well satisfied with ourselves; but just dig down a littleway and we'll find a lot of rubbish there we are ashamed of. The onlyway is to keep it open for the Lord to look through all the time."
Then, after a silence, during which the boys looked gloomily out intothe fog that seemed to be growing blacker and heavier like a pall, headded cheerfully, "Well, good-night, boys; keep up good courage. The_Una_ is a tough little boat, and has rode out many a stiff gale."
"She's such a little thing to fight against big waves and strong wind,"said Ben.
"Yes; when I'm down in that cabin I feel as if there was no more than apaper wall between us and the other world," added Ralph.
"Less than that, boy, less than that. There's only a breath 'twixt usand the other world any time, on sea or on land. What's the difference,as long as God's hand holds on to us? I feel just as safe as my littlegrand-baby does in his crib," said the captain.
"I don't," said Ben in a low tone; "I'd give all I own, and all myfather owns too, if I was near enough the shore to jump on it. I'd bewilling to make a long leap too."
"Good-night," again said the captain, as if to dismiss them.
"Good-night," replied the boys; but they were restless and anxious, andcould not bear to go down into the close cabin, which seemed more like aprison than ever.
The storm had not commenced, and the only sign of it that the boys couldsee was the blackness of the fog and the peculiar feeling of the air,which seemed heated and heavy.
They sat down again behind the cabin, where the captain could not seethem, and spoke in whispers.
"Let's stay on deck all night," said Ben. "If she capsizes we wouldstand a better chance here."
"I don't suppose we'd have the least chance in either place," was thedoleful reply.
"That vessel might have taken us off," grumbled Ben.
Ralph was feeling too badly to talk, and he stared at the fog in adespairing way. They sat there until the wind began to blow, and thespray from the big waves to dash over them; then, as a last resort, theyretreated to the cabin.
"Good-night, captain," said Ralph dolefully as he passed.
"What! you two fellows on deck yet! I thought I sent you below a coupleof hours ago. Down with you! You'll be washed overboard if you stay uphere."