LightNovesOnl.com

My Danish Sweetheart Volume II Part 2

My Danish Sweetheart - LightNovelsOnl.com

You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.

Yet, when I looked at Helga, and reflected upon what her sufferings had been and what her loss was, and noted the spirit that still shone n.o.bly in her steadfast gaze, and was expressed in the lines of her lips, I felt that I was acting my part as a man but poorly, in suffering my spirits to droop. This time yesterday we were upon a raft, from which the first rise of sea must have swept us. It was the hard stare of the north-westerly sky that caused me to think of this time yesterday; and with something of a s.h.i.+ver and a long deep breath of grat.i.tude for the safety that had come to us with this little fabric buoyant under our feet, I broke away from my mood of dulness with a half-smile at the two homely boatmen, who sat staring at Helga and at me.

'The lady looks but poorly,' said Abraham, with his eyes fixed upon Helga, though he addressed me. 'Some people has their allowance of grief sarved out all at once. I earnestly hope, lady, that life's agoing to luff up with you now, and lead ye on a course that won't take long to bring ye to the port of joyfulness.'

He nodded at her emphatically, with as much sympathy in his countenance as his weather-tanned flesh would suffer him to exhibit.

'We have had a hard time,' she answered gently.

'Much too hard for any girl to go through,' said I. 'Men, you must know this lady to be a complete sailor. She can take the wheel; she can sound the well; she has a nerve of steel at a moment that would send a good many who consider themselves stout-hearted to their prayers. It is not the usage of the sea, Abraham, that makes her look poorly, as you say.'

I noticed Jacob leaning forward with his hands upon his knees, staring at her. Suddenly he smacked his leg with the sound of a pistol-shot.

'Why, yes!' he cried: 'now I'm sure of it. Wasn't you once a boy, mum?'

'What!' cried Abraham, turning indignantly upon him.

A faint blush entered Helga's face.

'What I mean is,' continued Jacob, 'when I last see ye, you was dressed up as a boy!'

'Yes,' said I, 'yes. And what then?'

'Whoy, then,' he cried, fetching his leg another violent slap, 'Pigsears Hall owes me a gallon o' beer. When we was aboard the Dane,' he continued, addressing Abraham and talking with 'longsh.o.r.e vehemence, 'I cotched sight of a boy that I says to myself, thinks I, is as sartain surely a female as that the Gull lights.h.i.+p's painted red. I told Pigsears Hall to look. "Gal in your eye!" says he. "Bet ye a gallon of ale, Jacob, she's as much a boy as Barney Parson's Willie!" But we was too busy to argue, and we left the s.h.i.+p without thinking more about it.

Now I'm reminded, and I'm right, and I calls ye to witness, Abraham, so that Pigsears mayn't haul off from his wager.'

To change the subject, I said abruptly, 'You men seem to have some queer names among you. Pigsears Hall! Could any parson be got to christen a man so?'

"Taint his right name,' said Abraham. 'It's along of his ears that he's got that t.i.tle. There's Stickenup Adams; that's 'cause he holds his thin nose so high. Then there's Paper-collar Joe; that's 'cause he likes to be genteel about the neck. We've all got nicknames. But in a voyage to Australey we give ourselves the tarms our mothers knew us by.'

'What is your name?' said I.

'Abraham Vise,' said he.

'Wise?'

'_I_ calls it Vise,' said he, looking a little disconcerted. 'It's wrote with a _W_.'

'And your s.h.i.+pmates?'

'Him,' he answered, indicating his comrade by jerking his chin at him, 'is Jacob Minnikin. Him that's forrards is Tommy Budd.' He paused, with his eyes fixed upon Helga. 'Jacob,' said he, addressing his mate while he steadfastly regarded the girl, 'I've been a-thinking, if so be as the gentleman and lady aren't going to be put aboard a homeward-bounder in a hurry, how's she to sleep? Tell ye what it is,' said he slowly, looking around at Jacob; 'if to-night finds 'em aboard us we'll have to tarn out of the forepeak. There's a good enough bed for the likes of us men under that there raft,' said he, pointing to the wide recess that was roofed by the overhanging of the deck of the forepeak. 'The lady looks as if nothen short of a twenty-four hours' spell of sound sleep was going to do her good. But, of course, as I was saying,' and now he was addressing me, 'you and her may be aboard another craft, homeward bound, before the night comes.'

'I thank you, on behalf of the lady, for your proposal, Abraham,' said I. 'She wants rest, as you say; but privacy must naturally be a condition of her resting comfortably in your forepeak. Six hours would suffice----'

'Oh! she can lie there all night,' said Jacob.

At this moment the third man made his appearance. He rose thrusting through a little square hatch, and, with true 'longsh.o.r.e instincts, took a slow survey of the sea, with an occasional rub of his wrist along his eyes, before coming aft. He glanced at Helga and me carelessly, as though we had long become familiar features of the lugger to his mind, and, giving Abraham a nod, exclaimed, with another look round the sea, 'A nice little air o' wind out this marning.'

This fellow was a middle-aged man, probably forty-five. His countenance was of a somewhat sour cast, his eyebrows thick and of an iron-gray, and his eyes, deep-seated under them, gazed forth between lids whose rims were so red that they put a fancy into one of their being slowly eaten away by fire, as a spark bites into tinder. The sulky curl of mouth expressed the born marine grumbler. His headgear was of fur, like Jacob's; but I observed that he was dressed in a long coat, that had manifestly been cut for or worn by a parson. Under the flapping tails of this coat were exhibited a pair of very loose fearnaught trousers, terminating in a pair of large, gouty, square-toed shoes.

'What about breakfast?' said he. 'Ain't it toime to loight the fire?'

'Why, yes,' answered Abraham, 'and I dessay,' said he, looking at me, 'ye won't be sorry to get a mouthful of wittles.'

The sour-faced man, named Tommy, went forward, and was presently busy in chopping up a piece of wood.

'There are some good rashers to be had out of those hams you took from the raft,' said I; 'you will find the canned meat pleasant eating too.

While you are getting breakfast I'll explore your forepeak, with your permission.'

'Sartinly,' answered Abraham.

'Come along, Helga,' said I; and we went forward.

We dropped through the hatch, and found ourselves in a little gloomy interior, much too shallow to stand erect in. There were four bunks, so contrived as to serve as seats and lockers as well as beds. There were no mattresses, but in each bunk was a little pile of blankets.

'A n.o.ble sea-parlour, Helga!' said I, laughing.

'It is better than the raft,' she answered.

'Ay, indeed! but for all that not so good as to render us unwilling to leave this little lugger. You will never be able to sleep in one of these holes?'

'Oh yes,' she answered, with a note of cheerfulness in her voice; 'but I hope there may be no occasion. I shall not want to sleep till the night comes, and before it comes we may be in another s.h.i.+p, journeying home--to your home, I mean,' she added, with a sigh.

'And not more mine than yours, so long as it will please you to make it yours. And now,' said I, 'that we may be as comfortable as possible, where are our friends' toilet conveniences? Their washbasin is, no doubt, the ocean over the side, and I suspect a little lump of grease, used at long intervals, serves them for the soap they need. But there is plenty of refreshment to be had out of a salt-water rinsing of the face.

Stay you here, and I will hand you down what is to be found.'

I regained the deck, and asked one of the men to draw me a bucket of salt-water. I then asked Abraham for a piece of sailcloth to serve as a towel.

'Sailcloth!' he cried. 'I'll give ye the real thing,' and, sliding open a locker in the stern sheets, he extracted a couple of towels.

'Want any soap?' said he.

'Soap!' cried I. 'Have you such a thing?'

'Why, what d'ye think we are?' called the sour-faced man Tommy, who was kneeling at the little stove and blowing into it to kindle some chips of wood. 'How's a man to shave without soap?'

'Want a looking-gla.s.s?' said Abraham, handing me a lump of marine soap as he spoke.

'Thank you,' said I.

'And here's a comb,' said he, producing out of his trousers pocket a knife-shaped affair that he opened into a large bra.s.s comb. 'Anything more?'

'What more have you?' said I.

'Nothen, saving a razor,' said he.

This I did not require. I carried the bucket and the little bundle of unexpected conveniences to the hatch, and called to Helga.

'Here am I, rich in spoils,' said I softly. 'These boatmen are complete dandies. Here is soap, here are towels, here is a looking-gla.s.s, and here is a comb,' and having handed her these things I made my way aft again.

Click Like and comment to support us!

RECENTLY UPDATED NOVELS

About My Danish Sweetheart Volume II Part 2 novel

You're reading My Danish Sweetheart by Author(s): William Clark Russell. This novel has been translated and updated at LightNovelsOnl.com and has already 575 views. And it would be great if you choose to read and follow your favorite novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest novels, a novel list updates everyday and free. LightNovelsOnl.com is a very smart website for reading novels online, friendly on mobile. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to contact us at [email protected] or just simply leave your comment so we'll know how to make you happy.