Part 10 (1/2)

ADRIFT ON THE SEA.

”You are ill, Will Ward,” was d.i.c.k Darvall's first remark when there was sufficient daylight to distinguish faces.

”You're another!” was the cabin-boy's quick, facetious retort, which caused Darvall to smile and had the effect of rousing the half-sleeping crew.

”But you _are_ ill, my boy,” repeated the seaman earnestly.

”No, d.i.c.k, not exactly ill,” returned Will, with a faint smile, ”but I'm queer.”

Each man had spent that stormy night on the particular thwart on which he had chanced to sit down when he first entered the boat, so that all were looking more or less weary, but seamen are used to uncomfortable and interrupted slumbers. They soon roused themselves and began to look about and make a few comments on the weather. Some, recurring naturally to their beloved indulgence, pulled out their pipes and filled them.

”Have 'ee a light, Jim?” asked a rugged man, in a sleepy tone, of a comrade behind him.

”No, Jack, I haven't” answered Jim, in a less sleepy tone, slapping all his pockets and thrusting his hands into them.

”Have _you_, d.i.c.k?” asked the rugged man in some anxiety.

”No, I haven't,” replied Darvall, in a very serious voice, as he also took to slapping his pockets; ”no--nor baccy!”

It was curious to note at this point how every seaman in that boat became suddenly sympathetic and wide awake, and took to hasty, anxious examination of all his pockets--vest jacket, and trousers. The result was the discovery of a good many clay pipes, more or less blackened and shortened, with a few plugs of tobacco, but not a single match, either fusee or congreve. The men looked at each other with something akin to despair.

”Was no matches putt on board wi' the grub an' other things?” asked Jim in a solemn tone.

”And no tobacco?” inquired the mate.

No one could answer in the affirmative. A general sigh--like a miniature squall--burst from the sailors, and relieved them a little.

Jim put his pipe between his lips, and meekly began, if we may say so, to smoke his tobacco dry. At an order from the mate the men got out the oars and began to pull, for there was barely enough wind to fill the sail.

”No rest for us, lads, 'cept when it blows,” said the mate. ”The nearest land that I know of is five hundred miles off as the crow flies.

We've got a compa.s.s by good luck, so we can make for it, but the grub on board won't hold out for quarter o' that distance, so, unless we fall in with a s.h.i.+p, or fish jump aboard of us, ye know what's before us.”

”Have we any spirits aboard?” asked the rugged man, in a growling, somewhat sulky, voice.

”Hear--hear!” exclaimed Jim.

”No, Jack,” returned the mate; ”at least not for the purpose o' lettin'

you have a short life an' a merry one. Now, look here, men: it has pleased Providence to putt you an' me in something of a fix, and I shouldn't wonder if we was to have some stiffish experiences before we see the end of it. It has also pleased Providence to putt me here in command. You know I'm not given to boastin', but there are times when it is advisable to have plain speakin'. There _is_ a small supply of spirits aboard, and I just want to tell 'ee--merely as a piece of useful information, and to prevent any chance o' future trouble--that as I've got charge o' them spirits I mean to _keep_ charge of 'em.”

The mate spoke in a low, soft voice, without the slightest appearance of threat or determination in his manner, but as he concluded he unb.u.t.toned his pilot-cloth coat and pointed to the b.u.t.t of a revolver which protruded from one of his vest pockets.

The men made no reply, but instinctively glanced at the two biggest and strongest men in the boat. These were Charlie Brooke and d.i.c.k Darvall.

Obviously, before committing themselves further, they wished, if possible, to read in the faces of these two what they thought of the mate's speech. They failed to read much, if anything at all, for Charlie's eyes were fixed in dreamy expressionless abstraction on the horizon, and d.i.c.k was gazing up into the clouds, with a look of intense benignity--suggesting that he was holding pleasant intercourse with any celestial creatures who might be resident there.

Without a word the whole crew bent to their oars, and resigned themselves to the inevitable. Perhaps if each man had expressed his true feelings at that moment he would have said that he was glad to know there was a firm hand at the helm. For there are few things more uncomfortable in any community, large or small, than the absence of discipline, or the presence of a weak will in a position of power.

”But I say, Will,” remarked Darvall, who pulled the stroke-oar, ”you really do look ill. Is anything the matter with 'ee?”

”Nothin', d.i.c.k; 'cept that I'm tired,” answered the cabin-boy.

”Breakfast will put that right” said our hero in an encouraging tone.