CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
JEM IS HUNGRY.
The first time the pressed men were mustered Don was well prepared.
"You leave it to me, Jem," he whispered. "I'll wait till our turncomes, and then I shall speak out to the officer and tell him how we'vebeen treated."
"You'd better make haste, then, Mas' Don, for if the thing keeps onmoving like this, I sha'n't be able to stand and hear what you have tosay."
For a good breeze was blowing from the south coast, sufficient to makethe waves curl over, and the sloop behave in rather a lively way; themore so that she had a good deal of canvas spread, and heeled over anddipped her nose sufficiently to admit a great wave from time to time towell splash the forward part of the deck.
Don made no reply, for he felt white, but he attributed it to the mentalexcitement from which he suffered.
There were thirty pressed men on deck, for the most part old sailorsfrom the mercantile marine, and these men were drafted off into variouswatches, the trouble to the officers being that of arranging the fate ofthe landsmen, who looked wretched in the extreme.
"'Pon my word, Jones," said a smart-looking, middle-aged man in uniform,whom Don took to be the first lieutenant, "about as sorry a lot ofBristol sweepings as ever I saw."
"Not bad men, sir," said the petty officer addressed. "Wait tillthey've shaken down into their places."
"Now's your time, Mas' Don," whispered Jem. "Now or never."
Don was on the alert, but just as the officer neared them the vesselgave a sudden pitch, and of the men standing in a row the minute before,not one remained upon his feet. For it seemed as if the deck hadsuddenly dropped down; and as Don and Jem rolled over into the leescuppers, they were pretty well doused by the water that came splashingover the bows, and when, amidst a shout of laughter from the sailors,the order was given for them to get up and form in line again, Jem clungtightly to Don, and said, dolefully,--
"It's of no use, Mas' Don; I can't. It's like trying to stand onrunning barrels; and--oh, dear me!--I do feel so precious bad."
Don made no reply, but caught at the side of the vessel, for everythingaround seemed to be swimming, and a peculiarly faint sensation hadattacked him, such as he had never experienced before.
"There, send 'em all below," said the officer, who seemed half angry,half-amused. "Pretty way this is, of manning His Majesty's ships.There, down with you. Get 'em all below."
Don did not know how he got below. He had some recollection of knockingthe skin off his elbows, and being half dragged into a corner of thelower deck, where, for three days, he lay in the most abjectly miserablestate, listening to the sighs and groans of his equally unfortunatecompanions, and the remarks of Jem, who kept up in his waking moments arunning commentary on the miseries of going to sea.
"It's wuss than anything I ever felt or saw," he muttered. "I've beenill, and I've been in hospital, but this here's about the most terrible.I say, Mas' Don, how do you feel now?"
"As if I'd give anything to have the ship stopped, for us to be setashore."
"No, no, you can't feel like that, Mas' Don, because that's exactly howI feel. I am so ill. Well, all I can say is that it serves the captainand the lieutenant and all the rest of 'em jolly well right forpress-ganging me."
"What do you mean?" said Don, dolefully.
"Why, that they took all that trouble to bring me aboard to make asailor of me, and they'll never do it. I'm fit to go into a hospital,and that's about all I'm fit for. Sailor? Why, I can't even standupright on the precious deck."
"Well, my lads," said a hearty voice just then; "how long are you goingto play at being old women? Come, rouse a bit."
"No, thankye, sir," said Jem, in a miserable tone. "Bit? I haven't bitanything since I've been aboard."
"Then rouse up, and bite something now," cried the boatswain. "Come, mylad," he continued, turning to Don, "you've got too much stuff in you tolie about like this. Jump up, and come on deck in the fresh air."
"I feel so weak, sir; I don't think I could stand."
"Oh, yes, you can," said the boatswain. "That's better. If you giveway to it, you'll be here for a week."
"Are we nearly there, sir?" said Jem, with a groan.
"Nearly there? You yellow-faced lubber. What do you mean?"
"Where we're going to," groaned Jem.
"Nearly there? No. Why?"
"Because I want to go ashore again. I'm no use here."
"We'll soon make you of some use. There, get up."
"But aren't we soon going ashore?"
"If you behave yourself you may get a run ashore at the Cape or atSingapore; but most likely you won't leave the ship till we get toChina."
"China?" said Jem, sitting up sharply. "China?"
"Yes, China. What of that?"
"China!" cried Jem. "Why, I thought we were sailing round to Plymouthor Portsmouth, or some place like that. China?"
"We're going straight away or China, my lad, to be on that station forsome time."
"And when are we coming back, sir?"
"In about three years."
"Mas' Don," said Jem, dolefully; "let's get up on deck, sir, and jumpoverboard, so as to make an end of it."
"You'd better not," said the boatswain, laughing at Jem's miserableface. "You're in the king's service now, and you've got to work.There, rouse up, and act like a man."
"But can't we send a letter home, sir?" asked Don.
"Oh, yes, if you like, at the first port we touch at, or by any ship wespeak. But come, my lad, you've been sea-sick for days; don't begin tobe home sick. You've been pressed as many a better fellow has beenbefore you. The king wants men, and he must have them. Now, young asyou are, show that you can act like a man."
Don gave him an agonised look, but the bluff boatswain did not see it.
"Here, you fellows," he cried to the rest of the sick men; "we've givenyou time enough now. You must get up and shake all this off. You'llall be on deck in a quarter of an hour, so look sharp."
"This here's a nice game, Mas' Don. Do you know how I feel?"
"No, Jem; but I know how I feel."
"How's that, sir?"
"That if I had been asked to serve the king I might have joined a ship;but I've been dragged here in a cruel way, and the very first time I canget ashore, I mean to stay."
"Well, I felt something like that, Mas' Don; but they'd call itdesertion."
"Let them call it what they like, Jem. They treated us like dogs, and Iwill not stand it. I shall leave the ship first chance. You can do asyou like, but that's what I mean to do."
"Oh, I shall do as you do, Mas' Don. I was never meant for a sailor,and I shall get away as soon as I can."
"Shall you?" said a voice that seemed familiar; and they both turned inthe direction from which it came, to see a dark figure rise from besidethe bulk head, where it had lain unnoticed by the invalids, though ifthey had noted its presence, they would have taken it for one of theirfellow-sufferers.
"What's it got to do with you?" said Jem, shortly, as he scowled at theman, who now came forward sufficiently near the dim light for them torecognise the grim, sinister-looking sailor, who had played sounpleasant a part at the _rendez-vous_ where they were taken after beingseized.
"What's it got to do with me? Everything. So you're goin' to desert,both of you, are you? Do you know what that means?"
"No; nor don't want," growled Jem.
"Then I'll tell you. Flogging, for sartain, and p'r'aps stringing up atthe yard-arm, as an example to others."
"Ho!" said Jem; "do it? Well, you look the sort o' man as is bestsuited for that; and just you look here. Nex' time I ketches you spyingand listening to what I say, I shall give you a worse dressing down thanI give you last time, so be off."
"Mutinous, threatening, and talking about deserting," said thesinister-looking sailor, with a harsh laugh, which sounded as if he hada young watchman's rattle somewhere in his chest. "Nice t
hing toreport. I think this will do."
He went off rubbing his hands softly, and mounted the ladder, Jemwatching him till his legs had disappeared, when he turned sharply toDon.
"Him and me's going to have a regular set-to some day, Mas' Don. Hemakes me feel warm, and somehow that bit of a row has done me no end o'good. Here, come on deck, and let's see if he's telling tales. Comeon, lad. P'r'aps I've got a word or two to say as well."
Don had not realised it before, but as he followed Jem, he suddenly woketo the fact that he did not feel so weak and giddy, while, by the timehe was on deck, it as suddenly occurred to him that he could eat somebreakfast.
"I thought as much," said Jem. "Lookye there, Mas' Don. Did you eversee such a miserable sneak?"
For there, not half-a-dozen yards away, was the sinister-looking sailortalking to the bluff boatswain.
"Oh, yes, of course," said the latter, as he caught sight of therecruits. "So does every man who is pressed, and if he does not say it,he thinks it. There, be off."
The ill-looking sailor gave Jem an ugly look and went aft, while theboatswain turned to Don.
"That's right," he said. "Make a bit of an effort, and you're all thebetter for it. You'll get your sea legs directly."
"I wish he'd tell us where to get a sea leg o' mutton, Mas' Don,"whispered Jem. "I _am_ hungry."
"What's that?" said the boatswain.
"Only said I was hungry," growled Jem.
"Better and better. And, now, look here, you two may as well set towork without grumbling. And take my advice; don't let such men as thathear either of you talk about desertion again. It doesn't matter thistime, but, by-and-by, it may mean punishment."