Part 19 (1/2)
”I hope you haven't hurt yourself,” said ”Joe,” seeing that the other kept his white cambric handkerchief still tightly pressed to his forehead. ”That was a rather nasty knock you got! Cut yourself, eh?”
”I--I--don't quite know, you know,” answered the reverend gentleman, removing the handkerchief after some hesitation and proceeding to examine it carefully as if fearing the worst; but, finding now no trace of blood on its snowy surface, he became rea.s.sured and said, in a more cheery tone, ”no, not cut, I think, only a severe contusion, thank you, Mr Jellaby. The pain has nearly gone now!”
”That's right; I'm glad you've escaped so well,” said ”Joe,” taking Mr Smythe's arm again and wheeling him in line so as to resume their walk; while I stood by, with my ears c.o.c.ked, listening to the detached fragments of their talk. ”On board my last s.h.i.+p, the _Blanche_, we had a rum start one day with our life-buoy sentry. Would you like me to tell you the story?”
”Thanks, much,” responded the chaplain; ”I should be delighted.”
”Well, you see,” began the lieutenant, starting off with his yarn and quarter-deck walk again simultaneously, ”we had a lot of raw marine lads who had just enlisted sent us from Forton to complete our complement; and, one of these green hands, as luck would have it, was placed as sentry on the p.o.o.p by the sergeant of the guard, the first day he came aboard, though he'd probably never seen a s.h.i.+p in his life before. You see, eh?”
”Ah!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the chaplain as ”Joe” turned abruptly when close up to the taffrail and nearly twisted him off his legs. ”Yes, I--ah--see.”
”When the poor jolly was put on sentry,” continued the lieutenant, bolstering up Mr Smythe with his arm and just saving him in the nick of time from coming to grief again over a ringbolt on the deck, ”the sergeant told him he would have to call out when the bell was struck, thinking, of course, he knew all about it. The poor fellow, though, as you are aware, was quite ignorant of the custom; so, as soon as the sergeant's back was turned, he asked one of the men of the starboard watch standing by, 'What am I to call out when they strike the bell?'
”'Life-buoy!' replied the other. 'Life-buoy!'
”'All right, chummy, I thank you kindly,' said the young marine, full of grat.i.tude; and so, when, by-and-by, Two Bells were struck, he called out in a voice that could be heard all over the s.h.i.+p, 'Live boy!'”
”He--he--he!” chuckled the chaplain in his feeble way, he and Mr Jellaby coming to a stop, I was glad to see, close to where I stood.
”That was funny! Very, very funny!”
”Nothing to what's coming,” went on Mr Jellaby, pleased that his efforts at comic narrative under such difficulties had been so far successful, the chaplain not objecting to the secular amus.e.m.e.nt from any conscientious scruples. ”Well, as soon as the ignorant chaw-bacon chap yelled out this, which naturally made everyone who heard it laugh, although they put the mistake down to the poor fellow's provincial p.r.o.nunciation, he turns to the man who had previously instructed him and asks in a proud sort of way, as if seeking praise for his performance, 'Say, how did I sing out that, chum?'
”'Very well,' replied the other, who, if he had advised him in good faith in the first instance, on now seeing the result of his teaching was anxious to take a rise out of the 'stupid jolly,' as he thought him.
'But, chummy, you'll have to do different next time.'
”'Oh!' exclaimed the marine. 'What shall I have to sing out, then?'
”'You called ”Live boy” at Two Bells; and so it'll be ”Dead boy” when it strikes Three Bells. It's always turn and turn about aboard s.h.i.+p.'
”'Yes, that's fair enough and I thank you kindly,' answered the poor marine, sucking in the other's gammon like milk, not perceiving for a moment that the sailor was 'pulling his leg'; and, the next time the bell sounded, as sure as we both stand here, if you'll believe me, Mr Smythe, the silly donkey shouted out, even louder than he had done before, at the very pitch of his voice, 'Dead boy.'”
”He, he, he!” cackled Mr Smythe again, while d.i.c.k Popplethorne, who had joined me by the taffrail and was intently listening like myself to ”Joe's” yarn, burst out in a regular guffaw, which he had to choke his fist into his mouth to suppress; for, any such violent expression of merriment was totally at variance with the discipline of a man-of-war and had to be checked at once for the good of the service! ”But, what-- ah, happened, Mr Jellaby, to the poor fellow, eh?”
”Why, the officer of the watch sent for the sergeant of the guard with a file of marines, and put the man under arrest for being drunk and mutinous!”
”You don't--ah, mean to say he was punished?”
”No,” replied ”Joe,” with a wink to us. ”He certainly was brought up on the quarter-deck before the captain, who had heard his queer shout, as everybody did, indeed, who was on deck at the time; but, the bluejacket who had misled him came forward at the last moment and got him released from chokey, our captain, who was a good-tempered chap and enjoyed a joke, letting them both off, although he read 'em a lecture and had to bite his lip the while he spoke of the heinousness of their joint offence, he being hardly able to speak seriously!”
”Ah, I see,” said the Reverend Mr Smythe approvingly, though in a very faint tone, walking off towards the p.o.o.p-ladder with the lieutenant's aid, having evidently had enough of the s.h.i.+p's rolling. He expressed a wish to seek the seclusion of his own cabin, whereat I was not surprised, both d.i.c.k Popplethorne and myself having observed his face a.s.sume a greenish-yellowy-liver sort of look during the last few moments of ”Joe's” narrative; but he kept up his courage to the last, murmuring yet more faintly as he tottered below. ”Ve-wy good--ah! Ye-es, ve-wy good--ah, indeed!”
”Funny, wasn't it?” said d.i.c.k Popplethorne to me as the two turned away, laughing again, only more quietly now. ”What a rum start for him to sing out, 'dead boy!'”
I thought so, too--afterwards.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
OFF USHANT.