Part 26 (1/2)
”Run, I tell you! Come!” Suiting the action to the word, Mr. Jope, still gripping his comrade's arm, rushed him out of the sick bay, the doctor and the marine at their heels. In the excitement, the Major tumbled out of his hammock, tore aside the sail-flap, and staggered after them along the dim and empty lower-deck to a ladder which led up to daylight.
How to describe the spectacle which met his dazzled eyes as he thrust his head above the hatchway? Aloft the _Vesuvius_ spread her full sails in cloud upon cloud of dove-coloured grey (for, in fact, she carried very dingy canvas) against the blue of heaven, and reached along with the northerly breeze on her larboard quarter, heeling gently, yet just low enough for the Major to blink as his gaze, travelling beyond the lee bulwarks, caught the dazzle of foam knocked up and spreading off her blunt bows. But not long did he gaze on this; for in the scuppers under the bulwarks, in every att.i.tude of complete woe, some prostrate, some supine, all depicted with the liveliest yellows and greens of seasickness beneath their theatrical paint, lay the crew of H.M.S. _Poseidon_. Yes, even the wicked Lieutenant reclined there with the rest, with one hand upraised and grasping a ring-bolt, while the soft sway of the s.h.i.+p now lifted his garish tinselled epaulettes into the sunlight, now sank and drew across them, as upon a dial, the edge of the bulwarks' shadow.
Right above this disconsolate group, and almost right above the Major's head as he thrust it through the hatchway--or, to be more precise, at the head of the ladder leading to the _Vesuvius's_ p.o.o.p-- clung a little wry-necked, red-eyed, white-faced man in dishevelled uniform, and capered in impotent fury. But as when a child is chastised he yells once and there follows a pause of many seconds while he gathers up lung and larynx for the prolonged outcry, so after his first bull-roar Captain Crang, of the _Vesuvius_ bomb, clung to the rail of the p.o.o.p-ladder and wrestled for speech, while a little forward of the waist his crew huddled before the storm, yet (although the Major failed to perceive this) not without exchanging winks.
”Wha--_what_? In the name of ten thousand devils, what the '----'
is _that_?” yelled the Captain, and choked again.
”_In_ a gale--_off_ Pernambuco,” murmured Mr. Jope. ”Steady, Bill; steady does it, mind!” Advancing to the foot of the ladder, he touched his forelock and stood at attention. ”Pressed men, sir.
Found in the theayter and brought aboard, as _per_ special order.”
The Captain's throat could be seen working within his disordered cravat. ”Them! But--Oh, help me--look at 'em, Bos'n!”
”Sir!”
”Look at' em!”
”It's not for me to object, sir. As you was sayin', they don't look it; but bein' ear-marked, so to speak--”
”Where is Mr. Wapshott?”
”Below, sir, as I understand,” answered Mr. Jope demurely.
”You mean to tell me, you '--' '--', that Mr. Wapshott allowed--”
But just then, from a hatchway immediately behind Captain Crang, there slowly emerged--there uprose--a vision whereat our Major was not the only spectator to hold his breath. A shock of dishevelled red hair, a lean lantern-jawed face, desperately pallid; these were followed by a long crane-neck, and this again was continued by a pair of shoulders of such endless declivity as surely was never seen but in dreams. And still, as the genie from the fisherman's bottle, the apparition evolved itself and ascended, nor ceased growing until it overlooked the Captain's shoulder by a good three-fourths of a yard, when it put out two hands as if seeking support and stood swaying, with a vague, uneasy smile.
”D'ye hear me?” thundered the Captain, leaning forward over the ladder.
”Ay, ay, sir,” Ben Jope answered cheerfully.
”Then what the '--' are ye staring at, you son of a '--'? Like a stuck pig, '--' you! Like a clock-face! Like a gla.s.s-eyed cat in a '--' thunderstorm! Like a--”
Here, as Captain Crang drew breath to reload, so to speak, a slight yawing of the s.h.i.+p (for which the helmsman might be forgiven) brought the tall shadow of the apparition athwart his shoulder, and fetched him about with an oath.
”Eh? So _there_ you are!”
Mr. Wapshott, still with his vague smile, t.i.tubated a moment, advanced with a sort of circ.u.mspect dancing motion to the rail of the p.o.o.p, laid two shaking hands upon it, heaved a long sigh, and nodded affably.
”_Tha's_ all right. Where else?”
”Look there, sir!” Captain Crang wagged a forefinger at the crowd in the scuppers. ”I want your explanation of _that!_”
Mr. Wapshott brought his gaze to bear on the point indicated; but not until he had scanned successively the deck gratings, the rise of the forecastle and the main shrouds.
”Re-markable,” he answered slowly. ”Mos' remarkable. One funniest things ever saw in my life. Wha's yours?”
”My what, sir?”