Fitz the Filibuster Part 11

"Oh yes, though I never tasted it. Andy makes one for the lads whenever he gets a chance."

"Do they eat it?"

"Oh yes, and laugh at him all the time. I dare say it's very good, but I never felt disposed to try. But he's a good fellow, is Andy, and as fine a sailor as ever stepped. You'll get to like him by and by."

"Get to like him?" said Fitz, pulling himself up short and stiff.

"Humph! I dunno so much about that, young fellow. Look here, how long do you expect it's going to be before I am set aboard some s.h.i.+p?"

"Ah, that's more than anybody can say," replied Poole quietly.

Fitz was silent for a few moments, and then said sharply--

"What's the name of the port for which you are making sail?"

"Name of the port?" said Poole.

"Yes; you heard what I said, and I want to know."

"Yes; it's only natural that you would," said Poole. "I say, shall I get the tackle now?"

"No; I want an answer to my question," replied Fitz, firing up again.

"Well, I can't tell you. That's my father's business. We are sailing under what you would call sealed orders on board a Queen's s.h.i.+p."

"That's shuffling," cried Fitz angrily, with the black clouds coming over the little bit of suns.h.i.+ne that lit up his face after his soup.

"Now, sir, I order you to tell me, an officer in the Queen's service, where this schooner is bound."

Poole was silent. "Do you hear me, sir?"

"Oh yes, I hear," said Poole, "but I am in a state of mutiny, and I'm going to ask old b.u.t.ters to lend me his long line and hooks."

He moved towards the door as he spoke, but Fitz shouted to him to stop.

It was all in vain, for the lad closed the door and shut in the mids.h.i.+pman's angry face.

"Gone!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Fitz. "He's too much for me now; but only just wait till I get well and strong!"

CHAPTER TEN.

WHAT FITZ WANTED.

"What do you think of this for weather?" said Poole, one morning.

"Isn't it worth sailing right away to get into such seas as this?"

"Yes," said Fitz dreamily, as he lay on one side in his berth with his hand under his cheek, gazing through the cabin-window at the beautiful glancing water; "it is very lovely."

"Doesn't it make you feel as if you were getting quite well?"

"I think it would," said the boy, almost as if speaking to himself; "it would be all right enough if a fellow could feel happy."

"Well," said Poole, "you ought to begin to now. Just see how you've altered. Father says you are to come up this afternoon as soon as the heat of the day has pa.s.sed."

"Come on deck?" cried Fitz, brightening. "Ah! That's less like being a prisoner."

"A prisoner!" said Poole merrily. "Hark at him! Why, you are only a visitor, having a pleasant cruise. Father's coming directly," he added hastily, for he saw the look of depression coming back into the boy's face. "He says this is the last time he shall examine your head, and that you won't want doctoring any more. Come, isn't that good news enough for one morning?"

Fitz made no reply, but lay with his face contracting, evidently thinking of something else.

"As soon as he's gone," continued Poole, "I am going to bring the lines and some bait. Old b.u.t.ters said you could have them as much as you liked. Don't turn gruff again this time and say you don't want to try."

Fitz appeared to take no notice, and Poole went on--

"There are shoals of bonito about, and the Camel can dress them fine.

You don't know how good they are, freshly caught and fried."

Fitz made an impatient gesture.

"How soon is your father coming below?" he said.

"Oh, he may be down any moment. He and Mr Burgess are taking observations overhead and calculating our course."

"Then he won't be very long," said Fitz.

"Oh no. Want to speak to him?"

"Yes, particularly."

Poole gave the speaker a sharp look, which evidently meant, I wonder what he wants to say.

At that moment the boys' eyes met, and Fitz said, as if to evade a question--

"Don't you learn navigation--take observations, and that sort of thing?"

"Oh yes, lots of it; but I have been having a holiday since you've been on board. So have you. It must be quite a change after your busy life on board a gunboat, drilling and signalling, and all that sort of thing."

Fitz was hearing him speak, but listening intently all the time, so that he gave an eager start and exclaimed--

"Here's your father coming now."

For steps were plainly heard on the companion-ladder, and the next minute the door was thrust open, and the bluff-looking skipper entered the cabin.

"Morning, sir," he cried. "How are we this morning? Oh, it doesn't want any telling. You are getting on grandly. Did Poole tell you I wanted you to come up on deck this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir; thank you. I feel a deal better now, only my legs are very weak when I try to stand up holding on by my berth."

"Yes, I suppose so," said the skipper, sitting down by the boy's head and watching him keenly. "You are weak, of course, but it's more imaginary than real. Any one who lays up for a week or two would feel weak when he got out of bed."