CHAPTER THREE.
IN WHICH THE INTRODUCTION OF IMPORTANT PERSONAGES IS CONTINUED, INRATHER EXCITING CIRCUMSTANCES.
"Where away's the boat, lad?" said Captain Bluenose to Bax, onrecovering his equanimity.
"Close at hand; mind the fluke of that anchor. The owner of this spotshould be put in limbo for settin' man-traps. Have a care of yourshins, Guy; it's difficult navigation here on a dark night."
"All right, Bax," replied Guy; "I'll keep close in your wake, so if youcapsize we shall at least have the comfort of foundering together."
The place through which the three friends were groping their way wasthat low locality of mud and old stores, which forms the border regionbetween land and water, and in which dwelt those rats which have beendescribed as being frolicsome and numerous.
"Hold hard!" roared Bluenose, as he tripped over the shank of an anchor,"why don't you set up a lighthouse, or a beacon o' some sort on thesehere shoals?"
"Starboard, old boy, starboard hard, steady!" cried Bax.
With seaman-like promptitude the Captain obeyed, and thus escapedtumbling off the end of the wharf at which they had arrived.
"Nancy, a-hoy!" cried Bax in a subdued shout.
A juvenile "Ay, ay, sir!" instantly came back in reply from the darkobscurity that overhung the river. The sound of oars followed.
"Smart little fellow that nephew of yours; he'll do you credit someday," said Bax, turning towards Bluenose, who, although close at hisside, was scarcely visible, so dark was the night.
The Captain's rejoinder was cut short by the boy in question sending thebow of the boat crash against the wharf, an exploit which had the effectof pitching him heels over head into the bottom of it.
"Why didn't you give us a hail, uncle?" remonstrated the boy, as he roseand rubbed his elbows.
"Good practice, my lad, it's good practice," replied Bluenose,chuckling, as he stepped in.
A few seconds sufficed to take them alongside of the "Nancy," in twonarrow berths of which the Captain and Guy were quickly stowed away andsound asleep, while Bax paced the deck slowly overhead, having relievedthe watch and sent him below.
Just half an hour or so before dawn--that mysterious, unreal and solemnperiod of the night or morning--Captain Bluenose came on deck minus hiscoat and shoes, in order to have a look at "how things were gettingon,"--as if the general operations of nature had been committed to hischarge, and he were afraid lest the sun should not be able to risewithout his assistance.
"Light air, west-sou'-west," muttered the Captain as he stepped on deck,cast a glance up at the vane on the mast-head, and then swept his eyeround the (imaginary) horizon.
There was not much to be seen, except the numerous lights of theshipping, and the myriad lamps of the great city, whose mighty hum oflife had not yet begun to awaken. It was the deadest hour of night (ifwe may use the expression), although advanced towards morning. Thelatest of late sitters-up had gone to bed and got to sleep, and theearliest of early risers had not yet been aroused. None savenight-workers and night-watchers were astir, and these did not disturbin any appreciable degree the deep quiet of the hour.
While Bax and his friend were conversing in subdued tones near thebinnacle, they were startled by a piercing shriek, followed by a heavyplunge in the water, which, from the sound, appeared to be not fardistant. They sprang to the bow, which was pointing down the river,--the flood-tide was running strong up at the time. On reaching it theyheard a gurgling cry, not twenty yards ahead of the vessel.
"Hold on!" cried Bax to Bluenose, sharply, at the same time fasteningthe end of a rope round his waist with the speed of thought, andplunging over the side head-foremost. The cry and the plunge broughtGuy Foster on deck instantly. He found the Captain holding on with allhis might to the end of the rope, on which there seemed to be atremendous strain.
"Take a turn round that belayin' pin," gasped the Captain.
Guy obeyed, and the moment his companion was relieved, he shouted, "Allhands a-hoy!"
It was unnecessary. The four men who formed the crew of the "Nancy"were already springing up the fore-hatch. There was bustle among theshipping too. Lights danced about, the sound of oars was heard invarious directions, and sharp eager shouts, as of men who felt that lifewas in danger, but knew not where to hasten in order to afford aid.
"Haul now, lads, with a will," cried the Captain; "so, steady, avastheaving. Ah! that's a smart lad."
While the men were hauling on the rope, little Tommy had bounded overthe side into the boat, which he quickly brought close to the rope, and,seizing it, guided his craft to the end to which Bax was fastened. Hefound him buffeting the strong current stoutly, and supporting a head onhis shoulder in such a way that the mouth should not get below water.
"All right, Tommy," said Bax, quietly. "Don't get excited, my lad; lenda hand to raise her a bit out o' the water. Now, can you hold her therefor one moment?"
"Yes, if you just give me the end of that shawl in my teeth,--so."
Tommy could say no more, for he was squeezed flat against the gunwale ofthe boat, with his stout little arms tight round the neck and waist of afemale figure, the fingers of his left hand grasping her hair, and hislegs twisted in a remarkable manner round the thwart to keep him frombeing dragged out of the boat, besides which his mouth was full of theshawl.
Bax at once grasped the gunwale, and moved hand over hand to the stern,where, by a powerful effort, he raised himself out of the water andsprang inboard. A few minutes more sufficed to enable him to drag thefemale (a young girl) into the boat, and place her in safety on theschooner's deck.
The whole thing was done in much less time than is required to tell it.Only one of the boats that were out searching discovered the schooner,just as the female was got on board.
"All right?" inquired one of the men.
"All right--saved," was the answer, and the boat pulled away into theobscurity of the morning mist with a cheer of congratulation. Then allwas again silent, and the sluggish tide glided slowly past the darkhulls that rested on the bosom of the Thames.
On carrying the girl into the small cabin of the "Nancy" it was foundthat she was still in a state of insensibility. The dim light of theswinging lamp fell on her pale face, and revealed to the surprised andsympathetic beholders features of great beauty and delicate form, overwhich masses of dark brown hair straggled in wild confusion.
"Now, lads, clear out o' the way," cried Captain Bluenose, pulling offhis coat energetically. "Leave this here little craft to me. I know'xactly wot's got to be done, d'ye see. Turn her on her face--there;never go for to put a drownded body on its back, be it man or woman.Stick that coat under her breast, and her arm under her forehead. So,now we'll go to work."
There is no doubt that the worthy captain understood precisely what hemeant to do, and was working on a systematic plan; but what the resultof his labours might have been it is impossible to say, for at thatmoment he was interrupted by the tread of hurried footsteps on deck, andthe sudden entrance of a silvery-haired man, whose black coat, vest, andpantaloons contrasted strangely with his heavy oilskin coat andsou'-wester, and tended to puzzle the beholder as to whether he was alandsman in nautical outer garments, or a seaman clothed partly in whatJack calls "shore-going toggery."
There was an expression of wild anxiety on the man's face as he sprangtowards the prostrate form of the girl, fell on his knees, and, seizingher hand, exclaimed, "Lucy, dearest Lucy!" He stopped suddenly as if hehad been choked, and, bending his ear close to Lucy's lips, listened fora few seconds with knitted brow and compressed lips. At that momentthere was a flutter on the eyelids of the girl, and a broken sighescaped her.
The man kneeling at her side sprang convulsively to his feet, raised hishands high above his head, and exclaimed, "O God, in Christ's name Ithank thee," in tones so fervent, as almost to approach to a shout.
With this irrepressible cry of gratitude every trace of strong emotionappeared to vanish from t
he countenance and the manner of the stranger.Turning to Bluenose, who had been gazing at this scene in much surprise,not unmingled with anxiety, he said in a calm but quick voice:--
"My friend, this child is my daughter. Pray leave me alone with her fora few minutes."
"Excuge a oldish man, sir," said the Captain; "p'raps you'd better letme stay, 'cause why, I knows how to treat drownded--"
"Thank you, it is unnecessary," said the stranger. "Besides, I myselfam acquainted with the rules of the Humane Society. But you can aid meby getting hot blankets and warm coffee."
"Come along, Captain," cried Bax, seizing his friend by the arm anddragging him out of the cabin.
Guy had quitted it, followed by Tommy, the instant the old man hadexpressed a wish to be left alone with his child.
"There, now, you obstinate man," cried Bax, relaxing his grasp ongaining the foot of the companion ladder; "up with you, and send Tommyto look after coffee and blankets. He knows where to get 'em. I'll goand put on dry toggery; the best thing that _you_ can do, is to keep outof people's way."
This latter piece of advice was not very agreeable to one whose heartwas tender, and his desire to engage in works of active benevolence verystrong. But feeling that the advice was good, and thoroughlyappreciating the fact that, having shipped as a "suppernummerary hand,"he was bound to obey his young commander, he went on deck withoutremonstrance, walked aft to the binnacle, and began to fill his pipe.
Guy and Tommy were already there, engaged in earnest conversation. Theruddy light of the binnacle lamp streamed up in the face of the latter,and revealed his curly fair hair clustering in wild disorder over hisflushed brow, as, with fire gleaming in his blue eyes, he stared up inhis companion's face and related how that Bax, in the coolest mannerpossible, had kept treading water with the girl in his arms, knowingquite well that not even _his_ strength, great though it was, couldenable him to pull himself by the rope to the ship against the tide, andknowing that, in a few minutes, some one would get into the boat andpick them up.
"And so _some one_ did, and very cleverly and bravely done it was,Tommy," said Guy, laying his hand kindly on the boy's shoulder.
"Well, I don't think much o' that," replied Tommy. "It don't call formuch courage to jump into a boat of a fine night, twist your legs rounda thort, and hold on to a girl by claws and teeth till somebody comes toyer help."
It was all very well for Tommy to disclaim credit for what he had done;but the glad triumphant expression of his face, and his firm erect gait,proved that he was very much satisfied indeed with the share he had hadin that night's adventure.
"Ah, sir," continued the boy, "there never was a man like Bax!"
"You appear to admire him very much," said Guy; "and from the littlethat I have seen of him I think you have good reason."
"Admire him!" cried Tommy, with a look of scorn; "no, I don't. I _like_him. He's a trump!"
"Who's a trump?" inquired Bluenose, coming up at that moment.
"Bax," replied the boy, with the air of one who takes up an impregnableposition, and defies the whole world in arms to overthrow him.
"So he is, so he is, a reg'lar trump," said the Captain, "an' wot'smore, there ain't no more of them there trumps in the pack, for he's theking of 'arts, he is. An' you're a trump, too, Tommy; you're the_knave_ of 'arts, you are, ye little beggar. Go and git blankets andhot coffee for that gal, and look sharp, my lad."
"I have heard you speak once or twice of Bax and his exploits," said GuyFoster, when the boy left them, "but this is the first time I have seenhim perform. I did not see much of him when down on the coast lastsummer, but I saw enough to make me like him. Is he really thewonderful fellow that Tommy makes him out to be?"
"Wonderful?" echoed the Captain, puffing his pipe vigorously, as was hiswont when a little puzzled for an expression or an idea. "No, he ain'twonderful; that's not the word. He's a _life-preserver_, that's wot heis. None o' your hinflated injinrubber or cork affairs, but a reg'lar,hanimated, walkin', self-actin' life-preserver. Why, I've know'd him,off and on, since he was the length of a marline spike, d'ye see--an'I've seed him save dozens, ay _dozens_, of lives--men, women, andchildren,--in lifeboats, an' in luggers, an' swimmin'. Why, he thinksno more o' that wot he's done to-night, than he does of eatin' saltjunk. He's got a silver medal from the Royal Life-Boat Institution, an'another from the Queen of Spain, and a gold 'un from some other king orqueen, I don't 'xactly know who--besides no end o' thanks, written onpaper, also on wot they calls wellum, in beautiful German text andsmall-hand;--ho! you know, nobody knows wot that feller's been a-doin'of all his life. If he was hung round with all the gold and silvermedals he _deserves_ to have, he'd go to the bottom--life-preserverthough he is--like the sheet-anchor of a seventy-four, he would."
"What's that about going to the bottom?" said Bax, who came aft at themoment.
"That's just wot you've got nothin' to do with," replied Bluenose,resuming his pipe, which, in the ardour of his discourse, he had removedfrom his lips, and held out at arm's length before him.
"Well, I have _not_ much to do with going to the bottom," said Bax,laughing. "But where's Tommy?--oh! here you are. Have you attended toorders?"
"Blankits, hot, just bin sent in. Coffee, hot, follers in five minits."
"Brayvo," ejaculated Bluenose, with an approving smile. "I wonder whothe old man is?" said Guy. "He neither looks like a landsman nor aseaman, but a sort of mixture of both."
"So he is," said Bax. "I happen to know him, though he does not knowme. He is a Scripture reader to sailors (Burton by name), and has spentmany years of his life at work on the coast, in the neighbourhood ofRamsgate. I suppose he was goin' down the coast in the vessel out ofwhich his daughter tumbled. I didn't know he had a daughter. By theway, she's not a bad one to begin with, Tommy; a regular beauty,"continued Bax, with a smile. "You've often wondered whether the firstwould be a man, or a woman, or a child. The point is settled now!"
"Yes," replied the boy, with a grave meditative look. "I suppose I_may_ say she's my _first_, for you know you could not have done itwithout me."
There was something ludicrous, as well as sublime, in this little chipof humanity gravely talking of poor Lucy Burton being "his first," as ifhe had just entered on a new fishing-ground, and were beginning to takeaccount of the creatures he had the good fortune to haul out of the sea!
And in very truth, reader, this was the case. Under the training of amodest, lion-hearted British sailor, the boy was beginning to display,in unusual vigour, those daring, enthusiastic, self-sacrificingqualities which, although mingled with much that is evil, are markedcharacteristics of our seamen; qualities which have gone far to raiseour little island to her present high position of commercial prosperityand political importance, and which, with God's blessing, will continueto carry our flag, our merchandise, and our bibles, to the ends of theearth, and guard our shores, as in days of old, from the foot of everyforeign foe. England can never fully appreciate how much she owes toher seamen. The thousands of our inland population have a veryinadequate conception of the race of heroes by which our coasts arepeopled. Bax is no exaggerated specimen, got up, in these sensationdays, for effect. It is a glorious fact,--proved by the hard and barestatistics furnished annually by the Board of Trade, and from othersources,--that his name is legion, and that the men of whom he is a typeswarm all round our coasts, from the old Ultima Thule to the Land's End.
Yes, Tommy was in good training. He had begun well. He was evidently achip of the elder block. It did not, indeed, occur to his youngimagination to suppose that he could ever become anything in the mostdistant degree resembling his idol Bax. Neither did he entertain anydefinite idea as to what his young heart longed after; but he had seenlife saved; he had stood on the sea-shore when storms cast shatteredwrecks upon the sands, and had witnessed the exploits of boatmen intheir brave efforts to save human life; he had known what it was to weepwhen the rescuer perished with those whom he sough
t to save, and he hadhelped to swell with his tiny voice, the bursting cheer of triumph, whenmen, women, and children were plucked, as if by miracle, from the ragingsea! To take part in those deeds of heroism was the leading desire inthe boy's life; and now it seemed as if his career were commencing inearnest, and the day-dreams in which he had so long indulged were atlast about to become waking realities.