Part 3 (2/2)
”Where do you keep your irons?” asked Tommy. ”I'd like to see the dreadful things.”
The Captain looked so much embarra.s.sed that Tommy divined the truth at once.
”Why, you haven't got any,” she cried, dancing. ”What a naughty old fibber you are!”
”Well, you see, I pick my crew. Them that aren't English are Scotch or Irish, and very respectable men. But I dare say we can get a set of irons in the town. Come along, we'll go and get something to eat; we're too busy to cook on board. I'll just drop in at one of the marine stores and see if they've got a small size of irons for obstreperous females.”
As they walked up the High Street Tommy suddenly cried--
”Look, Bess, isn't that little Dan Whiddon? I wondered why he wasn't at the station to wish us good-bye.”
She pointed up the street, where she had seen a small oddly-dressed figure pa.s.s under the narrow ancient arch that divides the street into Above and Below Bar. They hurried in that direction, but when they reached the spot the figure had disappeared.
”I think you must have been mistaken,” said Mary. ”Dan wouldn't come so far from home.”
”I dare say. Now, Uncle, where shall we go? I'm famished.”
The Captain led them to the Crown Hotel. He confessed that if he had been alone he would have gone to a humbler place near the docks, where he might meet some s.h.i.+pmates.
”But you girls wouldn't like to eat among half-a-dozen sea-dogs smoking s.h.a.g,” he said.
As they ate their luncheon he said that he was disappointed with his cargo. He had hoped to have a full s.h.i.+p for the South American ports, but feared that after all he would have to go out light. Tommy's a.s.surance that his pa.s.sengers would make up did not appear to convince him.
They slept on board that night, and were very merry at the novel experience of undressing and dressing in such a narrow s.p.a.ce. Early next morning the s.h.i.+p was towed out into the harbour. She had hardly made a cable's length, however, when the Captain received a message semaph.o.r.ed from the quay to the effect that his agent had secured enough goods to complete his freight. It would not be ready for s.h.i.+pment for two days. He did not think it worth while to put back into dock, as the extra cargo could be brought out in lighters.
During the next two days the girls were much amused to see their uncle in his little dinghy, which held three at a squeeze, going to and fro between the s.h.i.+p and the sh.o.r.e, propelling himself by means of one oar fixed in a groove at the stern. Nothing would satisfy them until he allowed one of the sailors, usually Sunny Pat, to take them in turn and teach them how to work the little tub in this manner. Finding it very easy Tommy begged the Captain to let her take him ash.o.r.e, and was delighted when he told her on landing that she would make a skipper in no time. She immediately bought a huge sailor's knife, much to his amus.e.m.e.nt. Her sisters, not to be outdone, in their turn rowed him ash.o.r.e, and each also bought a knife.
”You'd be terrible folk in a mutiny,” said the Captain, laughing. ”I really must see about getting those irons.”
But when the vessel's hold was filled from the lighters, and the cargo was complete, there were no irons among the equipment. The _Elizabeth_ was towed down Southampton Water; then, the wind being fair, the courses were set, and she was soon sailing merrily down Channel. The girls were in the highest spirits. It was a glorious day. The sea glistened in the sunlight, and as the vessel pa.s.sed through the Solent, with the wooded sh.o.r.es of Hamps.h.i.+re on the right, and the Island on the left, the Captain pointed out to his nieces various landmarks and interesting spots, and gave them a first lesson in navigation. In three or four hours they pa.s.sed the Needles.
”Now, girls,” said the Captain, ”my advice is, keep fairly quiet for a little. There's a bit of a swell, and--well, I say no more.”
Elizabeth and Mary remained reclining in their deck-chairs, quietly enjoying their novel experiences. But Tommy was as nimble as Ariel on the vessel of the Duke of Milan. She was here, there and everywhere, asking why this and what the other; now exclaiming at a wars.h.i.+p that glided silently past, now watching a graceful white-sailed yacht; at one moment standing by the helmsman, then flas.h.i.+ng along the deck to ask her uncle for an explanation of something that had caught her attention. The Captain watched her with kindly amus.e.m.e.nt. He did not repeat his warning. ”The la.s.s had better get it over,” he thought.
Presently his amus.e.m.e.nt became mixed with a little anxiety as he saw her growing quieter, and a tinge of green coming into her complexion.
At last with a sudden cry of ”Oh!” she rushed to the companion and disappeared. The other girls followed her anxiously, and for a time they were seen no more. Thanks to the steadiness of the s.h.i.+p, and the comparative smoothness of the sea, their sufferings were neither violent nor prolonged; but it was a much-subdued Tommy who emerged an hour or two later and meekly put her hand into her uncle's.
The next moment she gave a gasp. Not a yard away, lying on a pile of canvas, huddled a little figure in brown corduroys and clumping boots.
It was Dan Whiddon, pale, grimy, with tear-stained eyes, fast asleep.
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”LYING ON A PILE OF CANVAS HUDDLED A LITTLE FIGURE.”]
”There's a young Samson for you!” said the Captain, noticing Tommy's look of amazement. ”A young rascal of a stowaway. Long Jimmy heard a tapping in the forehold a while ago, and when the men opened up--a nuisance when all the cargo was nattily stowed--there was this young reprobate, half dead with hunger and fright. You've a deal to answer for, Tommy.”
”Why, what have I done?” asked the girl.
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