Convictism having been safely got under hatches, and put to bed in itsGovernment allowance of sixteen inches of space per man, cut a littleshort by exigencies of shipboard, the cuddy was wont to pass some notunpleasant evenings. Mrs. Vickers, who was poetical and owned a guitar,was also musical and sang to it. Captain Blunt was a jovial, coarsefellow; Surgeon Pine had a mania for story-telling; while if Vickers wassometimes dull, Frere was always hearty. Moreover, the table was wellserved, and what with dinner, tobacco, whist, music, and brandy andwater, the sultry evenings passed away with a rapidity of which thewild beasts 'tween decks, cooped by sixes in berths of a mere five feetsquare, had no conception.
On this particular evening, however, the cuddy was dull. Dinner fellflat, and conversation languished.
"No signs of a breeze, Mr. Best?" asked Blunt, as the first officer camein and took his seat.
"None, sir."
"These--he, he!--awful calms," says Mrs. Vickers. "A week, is it not,Captain Blunt?"
"Thirteen days, mum," growled Blunt.
"I remember, off the Coromandel coast," put in cheerful Pine, "when wehad the plague in the Rattlesnake--"
"Captain Vickers, another glass of wine?" cried Blunt, hastening to cutthe anecdote short.
"Thank you, no more. I have the headache."
"Headache--um--don't wonder at it, going down among those fellows. It isinfamous the way they crowd these ships. Here we have over two hundredsouls on board, and not boat room for half of 'em."
"Two hundred souls! Surely not," says Vickers. "By the King'sRegulations--"
"One hundred and eighty convicts, fifty soldiers, thirty in ship's crew,all told, and--how many?--one, two three--seven in the cuddy. How manydo you make that?"
"We are just a little crowded this time," says Best.
"It is very wrong," says Vickers, pompously. "Very wrong. By the King'sRegulations--"
But the subject of the King's Regulations was even more distasteful tothe cuddy than Pine's interminable anecdotes, and Mrs. Vickers hastenedto change the subject.
"Are you not heartily tired of this dreadful life, Mr. Frere?"
"Well, it is not exactly the life I had hoped to lead," said Frere,rubbing a freckled hand over his stubborn red hair; "but I must make thebest of it."
"Yes, indeed," said the lady, in that subdued manner with which onecomments upon a well-known accident, "it must have been a great shock toyou to be so suddenly deprived of so large a fortune."
"Not only that, but to find that the black sheep who got it all sailedfor India within a week of my uncle's death! Lady Devine got a letterfrom him on the day of the funeral to say that he had taken his passagein the Hydaspes for Calcutta, and never meant to come back again!"
"Sir Richard Devine left no other children?"
"No, only this mysterious Dick, whom I never saw, but who must havehated me."
"Dear, dear! These family quarrels are dreadful things. Poor LadyDevine, to lose in one day a husband and a son!"
"And the next morning to hear of the murder of her cousin! You know thatwe are connected with the Bellasis family. My aunt's father married asister of the second Lord Bellasis."
"Indeed. That was a horrible murder. So you think that the dreadful manyou pointed out the other day did it?"
"The jury seemed to think not," said Mr. Frere, with a laugh; "but Idon't know anybody else who could have a motive for it. However, I'll goon deck and have a smoke."
"I wonder what induced that old hunks of a shipbuilder to try to cutoff his only son in favour of a cub of that sort," said Surgeon Pine toCaptain Vickers as the broad back of Mr. Maurice Frere disappeared upthe companion.
"Some boyish follies abroad, I believe; self-made men are alwaysimpatient of extravagance. But it is hard upon Frere. He is not a badsort of fellow for all his roughness, and when a young man finds that anaccident deprives him of a quarter of a million of money and leaves himwithout a sixpence beyond his commission in a marching regiment underorders for a convict settlement, he has some reason to rail againstfate."
"How was it that the son came in for the money after all, then?"
"Why, it seems that when old Devine returned from sending for his lawyerto alter his will, he got a fit of apoplexy, the result of his rage, Isuppose, and when they opened his room door in the morning they foundhim dead."
"And the son's away on the sea somewhere," said Mr. Vickers "and knowsnothing of his good fortune. It is quite a romance."
"I am glad that Frere did not get the money," said Pine, grimly stickingto his prejudice; "I have seldom seen a face I liked less, even among myyellow jackets yonder."
"Oh dear, Dr. Pine! How can you?" interjected Mrs. Vickers. "'Pon mysoul, ma'am, some of them have mixed in good society, I can tell you.There's pickpockets and swindlers down below who have lived in the bestcompany."
"Dreadful wretches!" cried Mrs. Vickers, shaking out her skirts. "John,I will go on deck."
At the signal, the party rose.
"Ecod, Pine," says Captain Blunt, as the two were left alone together,"you and I are always putting our foot into it!"
"Women are always in the way aboard ship," returned Pine.
"Ah! Doctor, you don't mean that, I know," said a rich soft voice at hiselbow.
It was Sarah Purfoy emerging from her cabin.
"Here is the wench!" cries Blunt. "We are talking of your eyes, mydear." "Well, they'll bear talking about, captain, won't they?" askedshe, turning them full upon him.
"By the Lord, they will!" says Blunt, smacking his hand on the table."They're the finest eyes I've seen in my life, and they've got thereddest lips under 'm that--"
"Let me pass, Captain Blunt, if you please. Thank you, doctor."
And before the admiring commander could prevent her, she modestly sweptout of the cuddy.
"She's a fine piece of goods, eh?" asked Blunt, watching her. "A spiceo' the devil in her, too."
Old Pine took a huge pinch of snuff.
"Devil! I tell you what it is, Blunt. I don't know where Vickers pickedher up, but I'd rather trust my life with the worst of those ruffians'tween decks, than in her keeping, if I'd done her an injury."
Blunt laughed.
"I don't believe she'd think much of sticking a man, either!" he said,rising. "But I must go on deck, doctor." Pine followed him more slowly."I don't pretend to know much about women," he said to himself, "butthat girl's got a story of her own, or I'm much mistaken. What bringsher on board this ship as lady's-maid is more than I can fathom." Andas, sticking his pipe between his teeth, he walked down the now deserteddeck to the main hatchway, and turned to watch the white figure glidingup and down the poop-deck, he saw it joined by another and a darker one,he muttered, "She's after no good, I'll swear."
At that moment his arm was touched by a soldier in undress uniform, whohad come up the hatchway. "What is it?"
The man drew himself up and saluted.
"If you please, doctor, one of the prisoners is taken sick, and as thedinner's over, and he's pretty bad, I ventured to disturb your honour."
"You ass!" says Pine--who, like many gruff men, had a good heart underhis rough shell--"why didn't you tell me before?" and knocking the ashesout of his barely-lighted pipe, he stopped that implement with a twistof paper and followed his summoner down the hatchway.
In the meantime the woman who was the object of the grim old fellow'ssuspicions was enjoying the comparative coolness of the night air.Her mistress and her mistress's daughter had not yet come out of theircabin, and the men had not yet finished their evening's tobacco. Theawning had been removed, the stars were shining in the moonless sky, thepoop guard had shifted itself to the quarter-deck, and Miss Sarah Purfoywas walking up and down the deserted poop, in close tete-a-tete with noless a person than Captain Blunt himself. She had passed and repassedhim twice silently, and at the third turn the big fellow, peering intothe twilight ahead somewhat uneasily, obeyed the glitter of her greateyes, and joined her.
"You
weren't put out, my wench," he asked, "at what I said to youbelow?"
She affected surprise.
"What do you mean?"
"Why, at my--at what I--at my rudeness, there! For I was a bit rude, Iadmit."
"I? Oh dear, no. You were not rude."
"Glad you think so!" returned Phineas Blunt, a little ashamed at whatlooked like a confession of weakness on his part.
"You would have been--if I had let you."
"How do you know?"
"I saw it in your face. Do you think a woman can't see in a man's facewhen he's going to insult her?"
"Insult you, hey! Upon my word!"
"Yes, insult me. You're old enough to be my father, Captain Blunt, butyou've no right to kiss me, unless I ask you."
"Haw, haw!" laughed Blunt. "I like that. Ask me! Egad, I wish you would,you black-eyed minx!"
"So would other people, I have no doubt." "That soldier officer, forinstance. Hey, Miss Modesty? I've seen him looking at you as though he'dlike to try."
The girl flashed at him with a quick side glance.
"You mean Lieutenant Frere, I suppose. Are you jealous of him?"
"Jealous! Why, damme, the lad was only breeched the other day. Jealous!"
"I think you are--and you've no need to be. He is a stupid booby, thoughhe is Lieutenant Frere."
"So he is. You are right there, by the Lord."
Sarah Purfoy laughed a low, full-toned laugh, whose sound made Blunt'spulse take a jump forward, and sent the blood tingling down to hisfingers ends.
"Captain Blunt," said she, "you're going to do a very silly thing."
He came close to her and tried to take her hand.
"What?"
She answered by another question.
"How old are you?"
"Forty-two, if you must know."
"Oh! And you are going to fall in love with a girl of nineteen."
"Who is that?"
"Myself!" she said, giving him her hand and smiling at him with her richred lips.
The mizen hid them from the man at the wheel, and the twilight oftropical stars held the main-deck. Blunt felt the breath of this strangewoman warm on his cheek, her eyes seemed to wax and wane, and the hard,small hand he held burnt like fire.
"I believe you are right," he cried. "I am half in love with youalready."
She gazed at him with a contemptuous sinking of her heavily fringedeyelids, and withdrew her hand.
"Then don't get to the other half, or you'll regret it."
"Shall I?" asked Blunt. "That's my affair. Come, you little vixen, giveme that kiss you said I was going to ask you for below," and he caughther in his arms.
In an instant she had twisted herself free, and confronted him withflashing eyes.
"You dare!" she cried. "Kiss me by force! Pooh! you make love like aschoolboy. If you can make me like you, I'll kiss you as often as youwill. If you can't, keep your distance, please."
Blunt did not know whether to laugh or be angry at this rebuff. He wasconscious that he was in rather a ridiculous position, and so decided tolaugh.
"You're a spitfire, too. What must I do to make you like me?"
She made him a curtsy.
"That is your affair," she said; and as the head of Mr. Frere appearedabove the companion, Blunt walked aft, feeling considerably bewildered,and yet not displeased.
"She's a fine girl, by jingo," he said, cocking his cap, "and I'm hangedif she ain't sweet upon me."
And then the old fellow began to whistle softly to himself as he pacedthe deck, and to glance towards the man who had taken his place with nofriendly eyes. But a sort of shame held him as yet, and he kept aloof.
Maurice Frere's greeting was short enough.
"Well, Sarah," he said, "have you got out of your temper?"
She frowned.
"What did you strike the man for? He did you no harm."
"He was out of his place. What business had he to come aft? One mustkeep these wretches down, my girl."
"Or they will be too much for you, eh? Do you think one man couldcapture a ship, Mr. Maurice?"
"No, but one hundred might."
"Nonsense! What could they do against the soldiers? There are fiftysoldiers."
"So there are, but--"
"But what?"
"Well, never mind. It's against the rules, and I won't have it."
"'Not according to the King's Regulations,' as Captain Vickers wouldsay."
Frere laughed at her imitation of his pompous captain.
"You are a strange girl; I can't make you out. Come," and he took herhand, "tell me what you are really."
"Will you promise not to tell?"
"Of course."
"Upon your word?"
"Upon my word."
"Well, then--but you'll tell?"
"Not I. Come, go on."
"Lady's-maid in the family of a gentleman going abroad."
"Sarah, you can't be serious?" "I am serious. That was the advertisementI answered."
"But I mean what you have been. You were not a lady's-maid all yourlife?"
She pulled her shawl closer round her and shivered.
"People are not born ladies' maids, I suppose?"
"Well, who are you, then? Have you no friends? What have you been?"
She looked up into the young man's face--a little less harsh atthat moment than it was wont to be--and creeping closer to him,whispered--"Do you love me, Maurice?"
He raised one of the little hands that rested on the taffrail, and,under cover of the darkness, kissed it.
"You know I do," he said. "You may be a lady's-maid or what you like,but you are the loveliest woman I ever met."
She smiled at his vehemence.
"Then, if you love me, what does it matter?" "If you loved me, you wouldtell me," said he, with a quickness which surprised himself.
"But I have nothing to tell, and I don't love you--yet."
He let her hand fall with an impatient gesture; and at that momentBlunt--who could restrain himself no longer--came up.
"Fine night, Mr. Frere?"
"Yes, fine enough."
"No signs of a breeze yet, though."
"No, not yet."
Just then, from out of the violet haze that hung over the horizon, astrange glow of light broke.
"Hallo," cries Frere, "did you see that?"
All had seen it, but they looked for its repetition in vain. Bluntrubbed his eyes.
"I saw it," he said, "distinctly. A flash of light." They strained theireyes to pierce through the obscurity.
"Best saw something like it before dinner. There must be thunder in theair."
At that instant a thin streak of light shot up and then sank again.There was no mistaking it this time, and a simultaneous exclamationburst from all on deck. From out the gloom which hung over the horizonrose a column of flame that lighted up the night for an instant, andthen sunk, leaving a dull red spark upon the water.
"It's a ship on fire," cried Frere.
CHAPTER III. THE MONOTONY BREAKS.