Part 19 (1/2)

”Come alongside at once. The Commodore wants to see you. Where are you from? Have you seen any of the enemy?”

”Enemy! Then they did know of the trouble at the coast. Perhaps they had already had a brush with the Ashantis.”

d.i.c.k stood up in the well and waved again. Then he steered the launch towards the gangway, while Johnnie, awakening to the fact that he was about to run alongside a man-o'-war, with all its sparkle and polish, managed for a few seconds to summon sufficient energy to look to his engine. He rubbed with energy at the metal work till the launch was almost alongside.

”Stand ready,” cried d.i.c.k, sleepily. ”Hook on. Steady. Back her.

Stop her!”

They were hanging to the broad gangway of the war vessel, while a sea of faces looked down upon them. A British tar, bearded and full of strength, stood in his white ducks at the foot of the ladder, his bare feet splashed in the water, while he stared at the strangers in amazement. Up above d.i.c.k caught a fleeting glance of a sentry, all in white, marching to and fro under the awning, and looking as though he would have given much for the privilege of leaving his beat for one glance over the side. Then his eye focussed itself sleepily on two officers leaning over the rail, both with medal ribbons upon their white coats, while one carried his speaking trumpet.

”Where from?” he asked politely. ”We've recently had a brush with the natives. Can you give us news?”

”They've been in the thick of it,” suddenly exclaimed the other. ”Look at the young fellow. He's covered with blood, and the boat's cut to pieces; the sides are in ribbons. Why, it must be young Stapleton, about whose safety there has been such a commotion.”

”And the fellow's done, done altogether,” said the other. ”Who are you, sir?”

”d.i.c.k Stapleton, sir. Just got through from up country. We met a whole army, about to cross the Prahsu. We got through with some difficulty, as they were already afloat. We're dead beat, sir, but I can't sleep till my store of gold is looked to. It's worth something. Can you help?”

d.i.c.k was weary and done up. He had realised that long ago, but the need for effort had kept both pluckily at their posts. Now, however, with the all-protecting arm of the British Navy to watch over them, the desire for sleep was irresistible. Their eyes were more than half closed. And they winked suspiciously when they attempted to look at any one object for long.

”Sergeant of the guard! Put a couple of men aboard at once,” came the order. ”Mr Hilden, oblige by going down to the launch and making an inventory. Glad to see you, Mr Stapleton. We'll talk later.

Meanwhile come aboard and leave the gold. It shall be well taken care of. Help him up, my man, and bring him along under the awnings.”

A friendly and firm arm helped d.i.c.k from the launch, while another tar took Johnnie in charge. Our hero was almost carried to the deck above and was straightway popped into a hammock. Then some one held a gla.s.s to his lips. He drank, and at once fell asleep. He had earned a rest and determined to enjoy it.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

IN HOME WATERS.

”'Ello! Awake, me 'earty! Blow me, but you've jest slept the clock right round! What time o' day is it? Nine o'clock, or thereabouts.

'Taint no use a givin' it to yer in bells, 'cos you ain't no sailor.

You've slept the clock round, Mr Stapleton, and you've laid there since yesterday mornin', a-sleepin' like a infant. 'Twasn't no use a-tryin'

to stir yer up, though the skipper--the Commodore that is--did 'ave a try. 'E's jest jumpin' to get yer news about these darkies. But yer wouldn't stir. Yer jest kind er growl, and then yer was off agin. Swop me, but yer must 'ave been tired!”

”I was--dead beat,” agreed d.i.c.k, looking out from the hammock, and noticing that he was aboard the war vessel, and still lying under an awning. Indeed, at first he could recollect nothing, not even the fight with the Ashantis, to such a point had exhaustion carried him. And now, when he stirred and opened his eyes, it was to see a burly sailor, a British Jack tar, staring at him with a huge smile on his good-humoured face.

”Thet's jest what the skipper says. He sees it ain't no use a botherin'

yer, and so 'e jest leaves yer to it. 'Put a nurse on him,' he calls out to the chief. 'See as 'e's taken care of.' And so 'ere I am, actin' kind of nurse. 'Ow do yer feel, Mr Stapleton, sir?”

”Hungry! My word, I am hungry. You say I've slept the clock round.

Then there's no wonder that I want something. How's the launch?”

”Safe and sound, sir, and the gold, too. Swop me, but where did it all come from? You must 'ave been busy to dig all that. But you're 'ungry.

I'll send down to the gunroom. Officers is 'aving their breakfast, and there'll be a peck for you.”

He was an amusing fellow, this rough salt, and a capital nurse he had made. He went to the rail of the upper deck, and sang out to the sergeant of the guard, a marine, whose man paced the beat below.