Many Cargoes Part 43

"Eleven o'clock!" shouted the excited skipper.

It was too true. Before Big Ben had finished, the neighbouring church clocks commenced striking with feverish haste, and hurrying feet and hoa.r.s.e cries were heard proceeding from the deck of the GOOD INTENT.

"Loose the sails!" yelled the furious Tucker. "Loose the sails! Damme, we'll get under way by ourselves!"

He ran forward, and, a.s.sisted by the mate, hoisted the jibs, and then, running back, cast off from the brig, and began to hoist the mainsail.

As they disengaged themselves from the tier, there was just sufficient sail for them to advance against the tide; while in front of them the Good Intent, shaking out sail after sail, stood boldly down the river.

"This was the way of it," said Sam, as he stood before the grim Tucker at six o'clock the next morning, surrounded by his mates. "He came into the 'Town o' Berwick,' where we was, as nice a spoken little chap as ever you'd wish to see. He said he'd been a-looking at the GOOD INTENT, and he thought it was the prettiest little craft 'e ever seed, and the exact image of one his dear brother, which was a missionary, 'ad, and he'd like to stand a drink to every man of her crew. Of course, we all said we was the crew direckly, an' all I can remember after that is two coppers an' a little boy trying to giv' me the frog's march, an'

somebody chucking pails o' water over me. It's crool 'ard losing a race, what we didn't know nothink about, in this way; but it warn't our fault?-it warn't, indeed. It's my belief that the little man was a missionary of some sort hisself, and wanted to convert us, an' that was his way of starting on the job. It's all very well for the mate to have highstirriks; but it's quite true, every word of it, an' if you go an'

ask at the pub they'll tell you the same."

MATED

The schooner Falcon was ready for sea. The last bale of general cargo had just been s.h.i.+pped, and a few hairy, unkempt seamen were busy putting on the hatches under the able profanity of the mate.

"All clear?" inquired the master, a short, ruddy-faced man of about thirty-five. "Cast off there!"

"Ain't you going to wait for the pa.s.sengers, then?" inquired the mate.

"No, no," replied the skipper, whose features were working with excitement. "They won't come now, I'm sure they won't. We'll lose the tide if we don't look sharp."

He turned aside to give an order just as a buxom young woman, accompanied by a loutish boy, a band-box, and several other bundles, came hurrying on to the jetty.

"Well, here we are, Cap'n Evans," said the girl, springing lightly on to the deck. "I thought we should never get here; the cabman didn't seem to know the way; but I knew you wouldn't go without us."

"Here you are," said the skipper, with attempted cheerfulness, as he gave the girl his right hand, while his left strayed vaguely in the direction of the boy's ear, which was coldly withheld from him. "Go down below, and the mate'll show you your cabin. Bill, this is Miss Cooper, a lady friend o' mine, and her brother."

The mate, acknowledging the introduction, led the way to the cabin, where they remained so long that by the time they came on deck again the schooner was off Limehouse, slipping along well under a light wind.

"How do you like the state-room?" inquired the skipper, who was at the wheel.

"Pretty fair," replied Miss Cooper. "It's a big name for it though, ain't it? Oh, what a large s.h.i.+p!"

She ran to the side to gaze at a big liner, and as far as Gravesend besieged the skipper and mate with questions concerning the various craft. At the mate's suggestion they had tea on deck, at which meal William Henry Cooper became a source of much discomfort to his host by his remarkable discoveries anent the fauna of lettuce. Despite his efforts, however, and the cloud under which Evans seemed to be labouring, the meal was voted a big success; and after it was over they sat laughing and chatting until the air got chilly, and the banks of the river were lost in the gathering darkness. At ten o'clock they retired for the night, leaving Evans and the mate on deck.

"Nice gal, that," said the mate, looking at the skipper, who was leaning moodily on the wheel.

"Ay, ay," replied he. "Bill," he continued, turning suddenly towards the mate. "I'm in a deuce of a mess. You've got a good square head on your shoulders. Now, what on earth am I to do? Of course you can see how the land lays?"

"Of course," said the mate, who was not going to lose his reputation by any display of ignorance. "Anyone could see it," he added.

"The question is what's to be done?" said the skipper.

"That's the question," said the mate guardedly.

"I feel that worried," said Evans, "that I've actually thought of getting into collision, or running the s.h.i.+p ash.o.r.e. Fancy them two women meeting at Llandalock."

Such a sudden light broke in upon the square head of the mate, that he nearly whistled with the brightness of it.

"But you ain't engaged to this one?" he cried.

"We're to be married in August," said the skipper desperately. "That's my ring on her finger."

"But you're going to marry Mary Jones in September," expostulated the mate. "You can't marry both of 'em."

"That's what I say," replied Evans; "that's what I keep telling myself, but it don't seem to bring much comfort. I'm too soft-'earted where wimmen is concerned, Bill, an' that's the truth of it. D'reckly I get alongside of a nice gal my arm goes creeping round her before I know what it's doing."

"What on earth made you bring the girl on the s.h.i.+p?" inquired the mate.

"The other one's sure to be on the quay to meet you as usual."

"I couldn't help it," groaned the skipper; "she would come; she can be very determined when she likes. She's awful gone on me, Bill."

"So's the other one apparently," said the mate.

"I can't think what it is the gals see in me," said the other mournfully. "Can you?"

"No, I'm blamed if I can," replied the mate frankly.

"I don't take no credit for it, Bill," said the skipper, "not a bit. My father was like it before me. The worry's killing me."

"Well, which are you going to have?" inquired the mate. "Which do you like the best?"

"I don't know, an' that's a fact," said the skipper. "They 've both got money coming to 'em; when I'm in Wales I like Mary Jones best, and when I'm in London it's Janey Cooper. It's dreadful to be like that, Bill."

"It is," said the mate drily. "I wouldn't be in your shoes when those two gals meet for a fortune. Then you'll have old Jones and her brothers to tackle, too. Seems to me things'll be a bit lively."

"I hev thought of being took sick, and staying in my bunk, Bill,"

suggested Evans anxiously.

"An' having the two of 'em to nurse you," retorted Bill. "Nice quiet time for an invalid."

Evans made a gesture of despair.

"How would it be," said the mate, after a long pause, and speaking very slowly; "how would it be if I took this one off your hands."

"You couldn't do it, Bill," said the skipper decidedly. "Not while she knew I was above ground." "Well, I can try," returned the mate shortly.

"I've took rather a fancy to the girl. Is it a bargain?"

"It is," said the skipper, shaking hands upon it. "If you git me out of this hole, Bill, I'll remember it the longest day I live."

With these words he went below, and, after cautiously undoing W. H.

Cooper, who had slept himself into a knot that a professional contortionist would have envied, tumbled in beside him and went to sleep.