Part 5 (1/2)
Besides being long-limbed, Nikel Sling was nimble. He distanced his pursuers easily, and, as we have seen, swam off and reached his s.h.i.+p almost as soon as they gained the end of the wharf.
The above narration was made much more abruptly and shortly than we have presented it, for oars were soon heard in the water, and it behoved the poor hunted cook to secrete himself in case they should take a fancy to search the vessel. Just as the boat came within a few yards of the s.h.i.+p he hastily went below.
”Boat ahoy!” shouted Tim Rokens; ”wot boat's that?”
The men lay on their oars.
”Have you a madman on board your s.h.i.+p?” inquired the gatekeeper of the hospital, whose wrath at the unceremonious treatment he had received had not yet cooled down.
”No,” answered Rokens, laying his arms on the bulwarks, and looking down at his questioner with a sly leer; ”no, we ha'n't, but you've got a madman aboord that boat.”
”Who's that?” inquired the warder, who did not at first understand the sarcasm.
”Why, yourself, to be sure,” replied Rokens, ”an' the sooner you takes yourself off, an' comes to an anchor in a loo-natick asylum, the better for all parties consarned.”
”No, but I'm in earnest, my man--”
”_As_ far as that goes,” interrupted the imperturbable Rokens, ”so am I.”
”The man,” continued the gatekeeper, ”has run out of the hospital with a smashed head, I calc'late, stark starin' mad, and gone off the end o'
the w'arf into the water--”
”You don't mean it!” shouted Rokens, starting with affected surprise.
”Now you _are_ a fine fellow, ain't you, to be talkin' here an' wastin'
time while a poor feller-mortal is bein' drownded, or has gone and swummed off to sea--p'r'aps without chart, compa.s.s, or rudder! Hallo, lads! tumble up there! Man overboard! tumble up, tumble up!”
In less than three minutes half-a-dozen men sprang up the hatchway, hauled up the gig which swung astern, tumbled into it, and began to pull wildly about the harbour in search of the drowning man. The shouts and commotion roused the crews of the nearest vessels, and ere long quite a fleet of boats joined in the search.
”Wos he a big or a little feller?” inquired Rokens, panting from his exertions, as he swept up to the boat containing the hospital warder, round which several of the other boats began to congregate.
”A big fellow, I guess, with legs like steeples. He was sloping when they floored him. A thief, I expect he must ha' bin.”
”A thief!” echoed Rokens, in disgust; ”why didn't ye say, so at first?
If he's a thief, he's born to be hanged, so he's safe and snug aboard his s.h.i.+p long ago, I'll be bound. Good-night t'ye, friend, and better luck next time.”
A loud laugh greeted the ears of the discomfited warder as the crews of the boats dipped their oars in the water and pulled towards, their respective s.h.i.+ps.
Next morning, about daybreak, little Alice Dunning came on board her father's s.h.i.+p, accompanied by her two aunts, who, for once, became utterly and publicly regardless of appearances and contemptuous of all propriety, as they sobbed on the child's neck and positively refused to be comforted.
Just as the sun rose, and edged the horizon with a gleam of liquid fire, the _Red Eric_ spread her sails and stood out to sea.
CHAPTER FIVE.
DAY DREAMS AND ADVENTURES AMONG THE CLOUDS--A CHASE, A BATTLE, AND A VICTORY.
Early morning on the ocean! There is poetry in the idea; there is music in the very sound. As there is nothing new under the sun, probably a song exists with this or a similar t.i.tle; if not, we now recommend it earnestly to musicians.
Ailie Dunning sat on the bulwarks of the _Red Eric_, holding on tightly by the mizzen-shrouds, and gazing in open-eyed, open-mouthed, inexpressible delight upon the bright calm sea. She was far, far out upon the bosom of the Atlantic now. Sea-sickness--which during the first part of the voyage, had changed the warm pink of her pretty face into every imaginable shade of green--was gone, and the hue of health could not now be banished even by the rudest storm. In short, she had become a thorough sailor, and took special delight in turning her face to windward during the wild storm, and drinking-in the howling blast as she held on by the rigid shrouds, and laughed at the das.h.i.+ng spray--for little Ailie was not easily frightened. Martha and Jane Dunning had made it their first care to implant in the heart of their charge a knowledge of our Saviour's love, and especially of His tenderness towards, and watchful care over, the lambs of His flock. Besides this, little Ailie was naturally of a trustful disposition. She had implicit confidence in the strength and wisdom of her father, and it never entered into her imagination to dream that it was possible for any evil to befall the s.h.i.+p which _he_ commanded.