Hunting the Skipper Part 41

"No! No water."

"Well, what is it?"

"I only wanted to say something, Frank," whispered the poor fellow, in a faltering voice.

"Better not, old chap. You want rest, and not to bother your brain with talking."

"Thank you, doctor," said the lad, with a faint smile. "Why, you're ever so much better than old Reston. Yes, I want sleep, for my head seems to be all of a buzz; but I must say something before I can get off."

"Well, then, look sharp and say it. Well, what is it?"

"Only this, Franky, old fellow--"

"Well, what is it?" said Murray, after the pause which followed the last words. "There, let it go; I'm sure it will keep."

"No, no," whispered the lad excitedly. "It won't keep. I feel as if I can't bear to say it, and yet that I can't bear to keep it back. There, that sounds half mad, doesn't it? I--I--"

"Is it anything to do with what you said to me a bit ago?"

"Hah! Thank you, old fellow; you've made me feel as if I could say it now," whispered the lad hoa.r.s.ely. "Franky, I feel as if I've been an ungrateful beast to you."

"Hold hard, d.i.c.k," said Murray quickly; and he laid his hand upon the one lying close to the edge of the cot. "I understand how hard it must be for you to talk about it, and it's just as hard for me to listen. So look here, d.i.c.k. You haven't been yourself, lad; when a fellow's a bit off his head he isn't accountable for what he says. I know; so look here. Am I hurt and annoyed by what you said? Not a bit of it. That's right, isn't it?" he continued, as his hand closed firmly upon that of the half hysterical lad. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"Hah! Yes!" sighed the lad gently; and it sounded to Murray as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off the poor fellow's breast.

"Then now you can go to sleep, and when you wake up again I hope you will have forgotten all about it, for that's what I mean to as a matter of course, and--How rum!" said the lad to himself, for the hand that had been returning his pressure had slowly slackened its grasp and lay perfectly inert in his. "Why, he must be asleep! Well, I shall soon know."

As the lad thought this he loosened his own grasp, and the next minute was able to slip his fingers away. Directly after he drew back a little more, and quietly rose from the locker upon which he had been seated close to his companion's side with his back to the cabin stairs.

Then turning to go up on deck, Murray started to find himself face to face with the doctor, who had followed the lads down and stepped in without being heard.

"Asleep?"

Murray pointed to the occupant of the cot without a word, and the doctor bent low and then drew back.

"That's good," he whispered. "It was a nasty shock for the poor fellow, but there's nothing for me to do, my lad. A few hours' sleep will quite set him right. I like this, though, Murray," he continued, laying his hand upon the lad's shoulder and giving it a friendly grip. "You boys are thoughtless young dogs sometimes, but this sort of thing shows that you have got the right stuff in you--the right feeling for one another."

"Oh, I say, doctor, don't!" whispered Murray.

"Not going to, much," said the gentleman addressed. "I'm a rough fellow sometimes, I know, but I notice a deal, and I like to see a bit of feeling shown at the right moment. You don't know how it pleases me when one of our foremast fellows has been laid aside, and I see that a messmate has sneaked down to keep him company, and take care that he is not short of tobacco to chew--Hang him for trying to poison a man who would be far better without it!--Yes, looks as guilty as can be, and quite shamefaced at having been caught playing the nurse. It shows that the dog has got the true man in him, Murray, and though I don't let them see that I notice anything I like it more than you think. There, Roberts is all right," said the doctor gruffly, "but don't stop here breathing up the cool air I want for my patient. Come on deck, my lad; come on deck."

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"n.i.g.g.aH, SAH."

A month pa.s.sed swiftly away, during which the _Seafowl_ sighted and chased vessel after vessel, each of which had been forced to lie to in response to a shot fired across her bows, but only with a disappointing result--one which sent the captain into a temper which made him dangerous to approach for a full half-hour after the strangers' papers had been examined, to prove that she had nothing whatever to do with the slave-trade.

Then the captain would calm down, and something like the following would take place:

"Did I speak rather sharply to you when the boat returned, Mr Anderson?"

"Oh! Well, rather hastily, sir," said the chief officer drily. "But that's nothing, sir. I'm afraid I was not very polite to you. I was horribly disappointed, sir."

"Naturally," the captain cried excitedly. "Here we are, getting well within range of the islands where we know this wretched traffic is carried on, where the plantations are cultivated by the unfortunate blacks, and we seem bound to encounter a slaver, and yet the days pa.s.s on and we prove to be hunting a will-o'-the-wisp."

"Yes, sir, it is maddening," replied the lieutenant. "Day after day I have swept the offing, feeling certain that fate would favour us by letting the sloop come up with that Yankee, or with one of his kidney; but disappointment is always the result."

"Yes, Mr Anderson," cried the captain; "always the result. Never mind," he continued, speaking through his closely set teeth; "our turn will come one of these days." And then with his telescope tightly nipped beneath his arm he would tramp up and down the quarter-deck, pausing now and then to focus his gla.s.s, take a peep through, close it again with a snap and renew his march.

"Look at him," said Roberts, one bright morning, as the two lads stood together well forward, where they fondly hoped that they were quite out of their chief's way.

"No, thank you, d.i.c.k," was the response; "it isn't safe. He's just in one of his fits, ready to pounce upon any one who gives him a chance.

Every one is getting afraid of him. I wish to goodness we could overtake something and have a chance of a prize."

"Well, we must find something to do soon, lad. We're right in amongst the islands, and we shall have to land and hunt out some n.i.g.g.e.r driver's nest."

"But we can't do anything if we do. We daren't interfere with any plantation where the blacks are employed."

"No, I suppose not; but it would be a glorious change if we got orders to land at one of the islands and could pick up some news or another."

"What sort of news?"

"What sort? Why, information that a slaver was expected to land a consignment, and then--"

"Oh yes, and then! Well, we shall see."

"Yes, we shall see; but I don't believe any of the planters will give us a bit of information."

"Don't you? I do," said Murray. "There are good planters as well as bad planters, and I feel full of hope."

"I don't," said Roberts bitterly. "I think we ought to go back to the West Coast and watch the rivers again. We shall do no good here."

But Murray proved the more likely to be right, for after touching at the little port of one island, where the _Seafowl_ was visited by the English gentleman who acted as consul, and who had a long interview with the officers in the cabin, it became bruited through the vessel that something important was on the way, and after boats had been sent ash.o.r.e and a plentiful supply of fresh water and vegetables taken in, the sloop set sail again, piloted by a fis.h.i.+ng boat. Under its guidance the _Seafowl_ lay off the sh.o.r.es of what seemed through the gla.s.ses to be an earthly paradise, a perfect scene of verdant beauty, with waving trees and cultivated fields, sheltered by a central mountain the configuration of which suggested that it must at one time have been a volcano, one side of which had been blown away so that a gigantic crater many miles across formed a lake-like harbour. Into this deep water, after careful soundings had been taken, the sloop glided and dropped anchor, the pilot with his two men hoisting sail directly after receiving pay.

"This is something like," said Roberts, rubbing his hands. "I wonder how soon we shall go ash.o.r.e."

"Almost directly, I expect," replied Murray.

"Why? What do you know?"

"Not much; only what Mr Anderson let drop to me."

"Let drop to you!" cried Roberts pettishly. "He never lets things drop to me."

"Well, what does that matter? I always tell you anything that I hear."