My Danish Sweetheart Volume II Part 21

'I thought you wished to speak to me just now,' said I, 'but were hindered by the Captain's presence.'

'No, I have nothing to say,' she answered, looking very pale in the frolic of shadows made by the swinging lantern.

'Why did you stroke down my arm? Was it a rebuke? Have I offended you?'

'Oh, Hugh!' she cried; then exclaimed: 'Could not you see what I meant?

I acted what I could not speak.'

'I do not understand,' said I.

'I wished to wipe off the grasp of that man's hand,' she exclaimed.

'Poor wretch! Is he so soiling as all that, Helga? And yet how considerate he is! I believe he has half denuded his own cabin for you.'

'Well, good-night once more,' said she, and closed the door of her berth upon herself.

I entered my cabin wondering like a fool. I could witness nothing but groundless aversion in her thoughts of this Captain Bunting, and felt vexed by her behaviour; for first I considered that, as in the lugger, so here--some days, ay, and even some weeks, might pa.s.s without providing us with the chance of being conveyed on board a homeward-bound s.h.i.+p. I do not say I believed this; but it was a probable thing, and there was that degree of risk, therefore, in it. Then I reflected that it was in the power of Captain Bunting to render our stay in his vessel either as agreeable as he had the power to make it, or entirely uncomfortable and wretched by neglect, insolence, bad-humour, and the like. I therefore regarded Helga's behaviour as impolitic, and, not having the sense to see into it so as to arrive at a reason, I allowed it to tease me as a piece of silly girlish caprice.

This was in my mind as I entered my cabin. There was light enough to enable me to master the interior, and a glance around satisfied me that I was not to be so well used as Helga. There were a pair of blankets in the bunk, and an old pewter basin on the deck that was sliding to and fro with the motions of the vessel. This I ended by throwing the concern into the next cabin, which, so far as I could tell, was half full of bolts of canvas and odds and ends of gear, which emitted a very strong smell of tar. However, I was sleepier than I was sensible of while I used my legs, for I had no sooner stretched my length in the bunk, using the Captain's slippers rolled up in my monkey-jacket as a pillow, than I fell asleep, though five minutes before I should have believed that there was nothing in opium to induce slumber in the face of the complicated noise which filled that interior.

I slept heavily right through the night, and awoke at half-past seven. I saw Punmeamootty standing in the door, and believe I should not have awakened but for his being there and staring at me. I lay a minute before I could bring my mind to its bearings; and I have some recollection of stupidly and drowsily imagining that I had been set ash.o.r.e on an island by Captain Bunting, that I had taken refuge in a cave, and that the owner of that cave, a yellow wild man, had looked in, and, finding me there, was meditating how best to despatch me.

'Hallo?' said I. 'What is it?'

'You wantchee water, sah?' said the man.

'Yes.' said I, now in possession of all my wits. 'You will find the basin belonging to this berth next door. A little cold water, if you please, and, if you can possibly manage it, Punmeamootty, a small bit of soap and a towel.'

He withdrew, and in a few minutes returned with the articles I required.

'How is the weather?' said I, with a glance at the screwed-up porthole, the gla.s.s of which lay as dusky with grime as the scuttle of a whaler that has been three years afis.h.i.+ng.

'Very proper wedder, sah,' he answered.

'Captain Bunting up?'

'No, sah.'

'You will be glad to get to Cape Town, I dare say,' said I, scrubbing at my face, and willing to talk since I noticed a disposition in the fellow to linger. 'Do you hail from that settlement, Punmeamootty?'

'No, sah: I 'long to Ceylon,' he answered.

'How many Cingalese are there aboard?'

'Tree,' he answered.

'Do the rest belong to the Cape?'

He shook his head and replied, 'No; one Burmah man, anoder Penang, anoder Singapore--allee like that.'

'But your work in this s.h.i.+p ends at Cape Town?'

'Yes, sah,' he answered, swiftly and fiercely.

'Are you all Mahometans?'

'Yes, allee Mussulmans.'

I understood by _allee_ that he meant all. He fastened his dusky eyes upon me with an expression of expectation that I would pursue the subject: finding me silent, he looked behind him, and then said, in a species of English that was not 'pigeon' and that I can but feebly reproduce, though, to be sure, what was most remarkable in it came from the colour it took through his intonation, and that glitter in his eyes which had made them visible to me in the dusk of the previous evening, 'You have been wrecked, sah?' I nodded. 'But you sabbee nabigation?'

I could not restrain a laugh. 'I know nothing of navigation,' said I; 'but I was not wrecked for the want of it, Punmeamootty.'

'But de beautiful young lady, she sabbee nabigation?' said he, with an apologetic, conciliatory grin that laid bare a wide range of his gleaming white teeth.

'How do you know that?' said I, struck by the question.

'Me hear you tell de captain, sah.'

'Yes,' said I, 'I believe she can navigate a s.h.i.+p.' He tossed his hands and rolled up his eyes in ludicrous imitation, as I thought, of his Captain's behaviour when he desired to express admiration. 'She beautiful young lady,' he exclaimed, 'and werry good--kind smile, and berry sorry for poor Mussulmans, sah.'

'I know what you mean, Punmeamootty,' said I. 'We are both very sorry, believe me! The Captain means well'--the man's teeth met in a sudden snap as I said this--'the man means well,' I repeated, eyeing him steadily; 'but it is a mistaken kindness. The lady and I will endeavour to influence him; though, at the same time, we trust to be out of the s.h.i.+p very soon, possibly too soon to be of any use. Anything in sight?'

'No, sah!'

He loitered still, as though he had more to say. Finding me silent, he made an odd sort of obeisance and disappeared.

Helga's cabin-door was shut. I listened, but could not collect amid the creaking noises that she was stirring within. It was likely she had pa.s.sed an uneasy night and was now sleeping, and in that belief I gained the hatchway and mounted on deck.

The first person I saw was Helga. She was talking to the two boatmen at the foot of the little p.o.o.p ladder, under the lee of the bulwarks, which were very nearly the height of a man. The decks were still dark with the swabbing-up of the brine with which they had been scoured. The galley chimney was hospitably smoking. A group of the coloured seamen lounged to leeward of the galley, with steaming pannikins and biscuits in their hands, and, as they ate and drank, they talked incessantly. The fellow named Nakier stood on the forecastle with his arms folded, persistently staring aft, as it seemed to me, at Helga and the boatmen.

The sun was about half an hour above the horizon; the sky was very delicately shaded with a frosty network of cloud, full of choice and tender tints, as though the sun were a prism flooding the heavens with many-coloured radiance. Over the lee-rail the sea was running in a fine rich blue streaked with foam, and the wind was a moderate breeze from which the completely clothed masts of the barque were leaning with the yards braced forward, for, so far as I could tell by the sun, the wind was about south-east.

All these details my eye took in as I stepped out of the hatch. Helga advanced to meet me, and I held her hand.

'You are looking very bonny this morning,' said I. 'Your sleep has done you good. Good-morning, Abraham; and how are you, Jacob? You two are the men I just now want to see.'

'Marning, Mr. Tregarthen,' exclaimed Abraham. 'How are _you_, sir? Don't Miss Nielsen look first-rate? Why, she ain't the same lady she was when we first fell in with ye.'

'It is true, Helga,' said I. 'Did Captain Bunting smuggle some cosmetics into your cabin, along with his washstand?'

'Oh, do not joke, Hugh,' said she. 'Look around the ocean: it is still bare.'

'I've bin a-telling Miss Nielsen,' exclaimed Abraham, 'that them coloured chaps forrads are a-talking about her as if she were a diwinity.'

'A angel,' said Jacob.

'A diwinity,' said Abraham, looking at his mate. 'The cove they calls boss--that there Nakier yonder, him as is a-looking at us as if his heart was agoing to bust--what d'ye think he says--ay, and in fust-cla.s.s English, too? "That there gal," says he, "ain't no Englishwoman. I'm glad to know it. She's got too sweet a hoye for an Englishwoman." "What d'ye know about hoyes?" says I. "English bad, bad," says he; "some good," here he holds up his thumb as if a-counting wan; "but many veree bad, veree bad," he says, says he, and here he holds up his fower fingers, like a little sprouting of o'er-ripe plantains, meaning fower to one, I allow.'

'It's pork as is at the bottom o' them feelin's,' said Jacob.