Fitz the Filibuster Part 14

"No; out of the stern-window."

"What! How are you going to haul in your fish?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"See what a mess you'll make, my lad."

"I'll clean up afterwards," said Poole.

"I don't believe you will get any. If you hook one you'll knock it off in pulling it in. Why don't you bring the poor lad up on deck and let him fish like a human being, not keep him cuddled up below there like a great gal?"

"But he's so weak, he can hardly stand."

"Set him down, then, in a cheer. Do him good, and he'll like it all the more."

"Well, I never thought of that," said Poole eagerly. "I will. But oh, I mustn't forget the bait. I must go and see the Camel."

"Nonsense! Bait with a lask cut off from the first fish you catch."

"Of course," cried Poole; "but how am I to catch that first one first?"

"'M, yes," said the boatswain, with a grim smile. "Tell you what; go and ask the Camel to give you a nice long strip of salt pork, fat and rind."

"Ah, that would do," cried Poole; and he hurried off to the galley, where he was welcomed by the cook with a nod and wink, as he drew a little stew-pan forward on the hot plate, and lifted the lid.

"Joost cast your nose over that, laddie," he whispered mysteriously.

"Eh? What for?"

"It's the middy laddie's soup fresh made, joost luvely."

"Oh yes, splendid," said the lad, and he hurriedly stated his wants, had them supplied, and went back to the cabin ready to prepare for catching the first fish.

"Look here, Burnett," he said, "it'll be very awkward fis.h.i.+ng out of this window. How'd it be if I put a cane-chair close up under the rail?

Don't you think you could manage if I helped you up there?"

"I don't know. I am afraid I couldn't walk," said the boy dubiously.

"I'd try."

"Oh, never mind about your walking! If you'll come I'll run up and put a chair ready, and then come back for you. I could carry you easily enough if I got you on my back."

One moment Fitz had been looking bright and eager; the next a gloomy shade was pa.s.sing over his face.

"Like a sack," he said bitterly.

"Well, then, shall I make two of the lads carry you in a chair?"

"No," said the boy, brightening up again. "If I put my arm over your shoulder, and you get one round my waist, I think I could manage it if we went slowly."

"To be sure," cried Poole, and he hurried on deck, thrust a long cane reclining chair into the place he thought most suitable, and had just finished when his father came up.

"What are you about, boy?" he said; and Poole explained.

"Well, I don't know. I meant for him to come up this afternoon, but I thought that it was all over after that upset. How does he seem now?"

"Just as if he were going to make the best of it, father."

"Then bring him up."

A minute later the tackle and bait were lying on the deck beside the chair, and Poole hurried down to the cabin to help his patient finish dressing, which task was barely completed when there was a tap at the door and the Camel appeared, bearing his morning "dose," as he termed it.

This was treated as a hindrance, but proved to be a valuable fillip after what the boy had gone through, and the preparation for that which was to come, so that, with the exception of once feeling a little faint, Fitz managed to reach the deck, leaning heavily upon his companion; but not unnoticed, for the mate caught sight of him from where he was on the look-out forward, and hurried up to take the other arm.

"Morning, Mr Burnett," he said eagerly. "Come, this is fine! Coming to sit in the air a bit? Oh, we shall soon have you all right now."

The boy flushed and looked pleased at the kindly way in which he was received, and as he reached the chair there was another welcome for him from the hand at the wheel, who had the look of an old man-of-war's man, and gave him the regular salute due to an officer.

"Feel all right?" said the mate.

"Yes, much better than I thought."

"Fis.h.i.+ng, eh?" said the mate. "Well, good luck to you! Come, we shan't look upon you as an invalid now."

"Lie back in the chair a bit," said Poole, who was watching his companion anxiously.

"What for?"

"I thought perhaps you might feel a little faint."

"Oh no, that's all gone off," cried the boy, drawing a deep long breath, as he eagerly looked round the deck and up at the rigging of the smart schooner, whose raking taper masts and white canvas gave her quite the look of a yacht.

There was a look of wonder in the boy's eyes as he noted the trimness and perfection of all round, as well as the smartness of the crew, whose aspect suggested the truth, namely, that they had had their training on board some man-of-war.

From craft and crew the boy's eyes wandered round over the sea, sweeping the horizon, as he revelled in the soft pure air and the glorious light.

"How beautiful it seems," he said, half aloud, "after being shut up so long below."

"Come, that's a good sign," said Poole cheerily.

"What's a good sign?" was the sharp reply.

"That you can enjoy the fresh air so much. It shows that you must be better. Think you can hold the line if I get one ready?"

"Of course," said Fitz, rather contemptuously.

"All right, then."

Poole turned away and knelt upon the deck, laughing to himself the while, as he thought that if a big fish were hooked the invalid would soon find out the difference. And then the boy's fingers moved pretty quickly as he took out his junk-knife and cut a long narrow strip from the piece of fatty pork-rind with which the cook had supplied him.