Part 10 (1/2)

”Families,” said Smith.

”Look here,” said the mate, but the watchful Joe interrupted him.

”His mind's wandering,” said he hastily. ”He can't count, pore chap. We 'd better git him to bed.”

”Ah, do,” said the skipper, and, a.s.sisted by his friends, the rescued man was half led, half carried below and put between the blankets, where he lay luxuriously sipping a gla.s.s of brandy and water, sent from the cabin.

”How'd I do it?” he inquired, with a satisfied air.

”There was no need to tell all them lies about it,” said Dan sharply; ”instead of one little lie you told half-a-dozen. I don't want nothing more to do with you. You start afresh now, like a new-born babe.”

”All right,” said Smith shortly; and, being very much fatigued with his exertions, and much refreshed by the brandy, fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

The morning was well advanced when he awoke, and the fo'c'sle empty except for the faithful Joe, who was standing by his side, with a heap of clothing under his arm.

”Try these on,” said he, as Smith stared at him half awake; ”they'll be better than nothing, at any rate.”

The soldier leaped from his bunk and gratefully proceeded to dress himself, Joe eyeing him critically as the trousers climbed up his long legs, and the sleeves of the jacket did their best to conceal his elbows.

”What do I look like?” he inquired anxiously, as he finished.

”Six foot an' a half o' misery,” piped the shrill voice of Billy promptly, as he thrust his head in at the fo'c'sle. ”You can't go to church in those clothes.”

”Well, they'll do for the s.h.i.+p, but you can't go ash.o.r.e in 'em,” said Joe, as he edged towards the ladder, and suddenly sprang up a step or two to let fly at the boy, ”The old man wants to see you; be careful what you say to him.”

With a very unsuccessful attempt to appear unconscious of the figure he cut, Smith went up on deck for the interview.

”We can't do anything until we get to London,” said the skipper, as he made copious notes of Smith's adventures. ”As soon as we get there, I'll lend you the money to telegraph to your friends to tell 'em you're safe and to send you some clothes, and of course you'll have free board and lodging till it comes, and I'll write out an account of it for the newspapers.”

”You're very good,” said Smith blankly.

”And I don't know what you are,” said the skipper, interrogatively; ”but you ought to go in for swimming as a profession-six hours' swimming about like that is wonderful.”

”You don't know what you can do till you have to,” said Smith modestly, as he backed slowly away; ”but I never want to see the water again as long as I live.”

The two remaining days of their pa.s.sage pa.s.sed all too quickly for the men, who were casting about for some way out of the difficulty which they foresaw would arise when they reached London.

”If you'd only got decent clothes,” said Joe, as they pa.s.sed Gravesend, ”you could go off and send a telegram, and not come back; but you couldn't go five yards in them things without having a crowd after you.”

”I shall have to be taken I s'pose,” said Smith moodily.

”An' poor old Dan'll get six months hard for helping you off,” said Joe sympathetically, as a bright idea occurred to him.

”Rubbis.h.!.+” said Dan uneasily. ”He can stick to his tale of being upset; anyway, the skipper saw him pulled out of the water. He's too honest a chap to get an old man into trouble for trying to help him.”

”He must have a new rig out, Dan,” said Joe softly. ”You an' me'll go an' buy 'em. I'll do the choosing, and you'll do the paying. Why, it'll be a reg'lar treat for you to lay out a little money, Dan. We'll have quite an evening's shopping, everything of the best.”