The Black Bar Part 63

"Get out."

"Well, I mean the holds, and they eat and drink and lie about in the sun basking like black tom-cats with their wives and kittens. I wish they wouldn't be so jolly fond of lying down on the deck like door-mats, and asking you to wipe your shoes on 'em."

"They don't."

"No, poor beggars, but they're so delighted that they're just like pet dogs. Seem as if they couldn't make enough of you."

"Got any news, Bob?"

"No. Leastwise, not much," said Bob, taking out his knife and sharpening it on his boot, which was a sign that he was going to cut his initials somewhere, to the great detriment of her Majesty's s.h.i.+p's fittings and boats.

"It's rather dull down here sometimes."

"Then why don't you come on deck?"

"I'd--I'd rather wait a bit," said Mark, sadly.

"Perhaps it would be best. You do look such a rum 'un. I know.

Capital idea. I'll ask the s.h.i.+p's tailor to make you a Turkish costume, white. Your bare head would look all right then. What'll you have--a fez or a turban? Say fez; your complexion would look well with the scarlet."

Bob joked, Mark read, and trusted to his friend for reports, and meanwhile the two schooners sailed on with their prize crews in the wake of the _Nautilus_. In due time Port Goldby was reached, and the freed slaves disembarked, all chattering and happy as so many girls and boys.

There had been times when Mark missed the excitement of his adventures, and agreed with Bob that it was hot and tame; but his burns rapidly healed, and he received visits from the men who had shared his troubles, and after dark stole unseen to Mr Russell's quarters, to sit in his cabin and talk to him gently about all the past.

"You'll have all the work to do next time, Mr Russell," Mark used to say. "Some day I shall be the one down, but I hope I shall be with you when you command some other expedition."

"I hope you will be with me," said the lieutenant, feebly; "but not be so unlucky as I have been. But there: never mind past troubles. I'm getting stronger, thanks to Mr Whitney. All that time I pa.s.sed insensible is to me like a long night's rest. Mark, my lad, I hope we shall have many adventures together yet; but whether we do or no, though I am much older than you are, remember one thing: you and I must always be good friends, and some day, if ever I command a s.h.i.+p, I hope you will be my lieutenant."

"Ah," said Mark, "that's a long way off, but I hope I may."

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

MARK IS WANTED ON DECK.

"Here, Mark, old chap, the skipper wants you on the quarter-deck," said Bob Howlett some weeks later.

"Wants me?" cried Mark, clapping his hand to his head.

"Yes."

"Why, I heard the men piped up, and everybody's there."

"Yes, all of 'em. Russell's there too, and Whitney."

"Whitney?"

"Yes, I think the skipper's going to have your bare head exhibited, and the doctor's to give the men a lecture on the new growth of hair on the human skull."

"Get out; he doesn't want me, Bob. I shall be obliged to give you that licking."

"No gammon, really. You are to come at once."

"Is this serious?"

"Yes: honour."

"But--oh, Bob, I'm such a guy."

"You are, my boy; but we'll forgive you. Come on." Mark hurriedly covered as much of his disfigurement as he could with his cap, and followed his messmate on deck, where, to his horror, he found officers and men all drawn up, with the shabby port and town of Goldby glorified by the setting sun, and all beneath the quarter-deck awning bathed in a golden glow.

One of the first objects upon which his eyes lit was the young lieutenant, looking weak and pale, as he sat there in uniform for the first time during many days. Tom Fillot and the rest of the prize crew were in front, and as Mark shrinkingly marched up to where the captain was waiting, Mr Russell gave him a friendly smile, and the first lieutenant one of his frowning nods.

Mark felt miserable, for, as Bob kindly told him afterwards, he looked just like an escaped lunatic, who had jumped out of a strait waistcoat into a middy's uniform. He felt as if the men were smiling in derision at his aspect, especially Tom Fillot and Dance, who were grinning, while Soup and Taters displayed nearly every one of their magnificent white teeth.

There was a singing in his ears too, and a sensation of giddiness; and when Mr Whitney nodded and looked hard at him, the mids.h.i.+pman half thought that Bob Howlett's words were right, and that the doctor was really going to lecture upon his bald head.

Then the captain spoke, amidst the most profound silence, and Mark felt as if he were a culprit, and as ready to hang his head; but somehow he drew a deep breath and held himself up stiffly, and his eyes flashed defiance, as he said to himself, "Let them laugh if they like. I did my duty."

"Glad to see you on deck again, Mr Vandean," said the captain, shaking hands, and speaking in his clear, penetrating tones. "I know that you have felt a little shrinking naturally, sir, but no British sailor need be ashamed of scars received in an honourable service."

"Thank you, sir," murmured Mark, in a choking voice, and his eyes looked his grat.i.tude.

"I sent for you, Mr Vandean, because I felt that you ought to hear an announcement I have to make to the whole crew of her Majesty's sloop _Nautilus_."

He paused for a moment or two, and whispered to Mr Staples, who was close behind him. Then he nodded, and went on:

"The two schooners so gallantly taken, lost, and retaken by the brave little prize crew I sent on board, have been condemned and sold. They are beautiful little well-formed vessels, and have made a splendid price.--Silence!"

There had been a low murmur, which was instantly checked.

"Then for head money on one hundred and eighty-seven poor black fellow-creatures rescued from what to them were floating h.e.l.ls, there will also be a handsome sum to add, and make a capital distribution of prize-money amongst the smartest crew a captain in Her Majesty's service could wish to command."

Here there was an attempt at a cheer, but the captain held up his hand.

"I have a few more words to say, and they are these. We all owe our thanks to those officers and men who have turned what had so far been a barren time into one rich in action. There is not a man among us who would not gladly have done his duty as well; and no doubt--it shall not be my fault if they do not--others will have plenty of opportunities for distinguis.h.i.+ng themselves. But I feel that we ought all to publicly thank these officers and men for the brave fight they made on our behalf. You will be glad to hear that I have strongly recommended my gallant friend Mr Russell for promotion, which he has won by his brave efforts and his sufferings in our great humane fight to wipe away the sinister black bar from the world's s.h.i.+eld of civilisation. Stop, my lads; you shall cheer directly. Dance, Fillot, and Bannock stand next for promotion, and I thank them publicly for setting so brave an example with their messmates, of patient self-denial, obedience, and sterling British manly pluck in a good cause."

Another murmur ran along the ranks, and Mark saw that Tom Fillot was hanging his head and colouring like a schoolboy, while Dance could not stand still. Almost at the same moment Mark caught Bob Howlett's eyes, which twinkled with mischief and seemed to say, "Your turn now."

"One more word," said the captain, "and I have done."

He paused, and in the intense, painful silence the glowing quarter-deck, with its many faces, seemed to swim round Mark Vandean.

"There is one whom I have not named," said the captain--"Mr Vandean."

Here, unchecked, there was a tremendous cheer, in which the officers joined, and the captain smiled, while now Mark's head did hang a little, and he trembled.

Then, as there was silence once more, the captain turned to him.