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The Mayor of Troy Part 26

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"Run, I tell you! Come!" Suiting the action to the word, Mr. Jope, still gripping his comrade's arm, rushed him out of the sick bay, the doctor and the marine at their heels. In the excitement, the Major tumbled out of his hammock, tore aside the sail-flap, and staggered after them along the dim and empty lower-deck to a ladder which led up to daylight.

How to describe the spectacle which met his dazzled eyes as he thrust his head above the hatchway? Aloft the _Vesuvius_ spread her full sails in cloud upon cloud of dove-coloured grey (for, in fact, she carried very dingy canvas) against the blue of heaven, and reached along with the northerly breeze on her larboard quarter, heeling gently, yet just low enough for the Major to blink as his gaze, travelling beyond the lee bulwarks, caught the dazzle of foam knocked up and spreading off her blunt bows. But not long did he gaze on this; for in the scuppers under the bulwarks, in every att.i.tude of complete woe, some prostrate, some supine, all depicted with the liveliest yellows and greens of seasickness beneath their theatrical paint, lay the crew of H.M.S. _Poseidon_. Yes, even the wicked Lieutenant reclined there with the rest, with one hand upraised and grasping a ring-bolt, while the soft sway of the s.h.i.+p now lifted his garish tinselled epaulettes into the sunlight, now sank and drew across them, as upon a dial, the edge of the bulwarks' shadow.

Right above this disconsolate group, and almost right above the Major's head as he thrust it through the hatchway--or, to be more precise, at the head of the ladder leading to the _Vesuvius's_ p.o.o.p-- clung a little wry-necked, red-eyed, white-faced man in dishevelled uniform, and capered in impotent fury. But as when a child is chastised he yells once and there follows a pause of many seconds while he gathers up lung and larynx for the prolonged outcry, so after his first bull-roar Captain Crang, of the _Vesuvius_ bomb, clung to the rail of the p.o.o.p-ladder and wrestled for speech, while a little forward of the waist his crew huddled before the storm, yet (although the Major failed to perceive this) not without exchanging winks.

"Wha--_what_? In the name of ten thousand devils, what the '----'

is _that_?" yelled the Captain, and choked again.

"_In_ a gale--_off_ Pernambuco," murmured Mr. Jope. "Steady, Bill; steady does it, mind!" Advancing to the foot of the ladder, he touched his forelock and stood at attention. "Pressed men, sir.

Found in the theayter and brought aboard, as _per_ special order."

The Captain's throat could be seen working within his disordered cravat. "Them! But--Oh, help me--look at 'em, Bos'n!"

"Sir!"

"Look at' em!"

"It's not for me to object, sir. As you was sayin', they don't look it; but bein' ear-marked, so to speak--"

"Where is Mr. Wapshott?"

"Below, sir, as I understand," answered Mr. Jope demurely.

"You mean to tell me, you '--' '--', that Mr. Wapshott allowed--"

But just then, from a hatchway immediately behind Captain Crang, there slowly emerged--there uprose--a vision whereat our Major was not the only spectator to hold his breath. A shock of dishevelled red hair, a lean lantern-jawed face, desperately pallid; these were followed by a long crane-neck, and this again was continued by a pair of shoulders of such endless declivity as surely was never seen but in dreams. And still, as the genie from the fisherman's bottle, the apparition evolved itself and ascended, nor ceased growing until it overlooked the Captain's shoulder by a good three-fourths of a yard, when it put out two hands as if seeking support and stood swaying, with a vague, uneasy smile.

"D'ye hear me?" thundered the Captain, leaning forward over the ladder.

"Ay, ay, sir," Ben Jope answered cheerfully.

"Then what the '--' are ye staring at, you son of a '--'? Like a stuck pig, '--' you! Like a clock-face! Like a gla.s.s-eyed cat in a '--' thunderstorm! Like a--"

Here, as Captain Crang drew breath to reload, so to speak, a slight yawing of the s.h.i.+p (for which the helmsman might be forgiven) brought the tall shadow of the apparition athwart his shoulder, and fetched him about with an oath.

"Eh? So _there_ you are!"

Mr. Wapshott, still with his vague smile, t.i.tubated a moment, advanced with a sort of circ.u.mspect dancing motion to the rail of the p.o.o.p, laid two shaking hands upon it, heaved a long sigh, and nodded affably.

"_Tha's_ all right. Where else?"

"Look there, sir!" Captain Crang wagged a forefinger at the crowd in the scuppers. "I want your explanation of _that!_"

Mr. Wapshott brought his gaze to bear on the point indicated; but not until he had scanned successively the deck gratings, the rise of the forecastle and the main shrouds.

"Re-markable," he answered slowly. "Mos' remarkable. One funniest things ever saw in my life. Wha's yours?"

"My what, sir?"

"Eggs. Eggs-planation. Mus' ask you, sir, be so good hear me out."

"Good Lord!" With a sudden look of horror Captain Crang let go his hold of the p.o.o.p-ladder and staggered back against the bulwarks.

"You don't mean--you're not telling me--that _I_ brought that menagerie aboard last night!" His gaze wandered helplessly from the first officer to the crew forward.

"Now then, Bill, steady does it," whispered Mr. Jope, and saluted again. "You'll excuse me, sir, but Mr. Wapshott was below last night when we brought you aboard from dinin' with his R'yal Highness."

"I remember nothing," groaned Captain Crang. "I never _do_ remember when--and before the Duke too!"

Mr. Jope coughed. "His R'yal Highness, sir--if you'll let me say so--was a bit like what you might call everyone else last night.

He shook hands very affectionate, sir, at parting, an' hoped to have your company again before long."

"Did he so? Did he so?" said Captain Crang. "And--er--could you at the same time call to mind what I answered?"

Mr. Jope looked down modestly. "Well, sir, having my hands full at the time wi' this here little lot, I dunno as I can remember precisely. Was it something about the theayter, Bill?" he demanded, turning to Mr. Adams.

"It wor," answered Mr. Adams st.u.r.dily.

"And as how you'd never s.h.i.+pped a crew o' playactors afore, but you'd do your best?"

"Either them very words or to that effect," confirmed Mr. Adams, breathing hard and staring defiantly at the horizon.

"The theatre? . . . I was at the theatre?" Captain Crang pa.s.sed a shaking hand over his brow. "No, damme! . . . and yet I remember now at dinner I heard the Duke say--"

Here it was Captain Crang's turn to stare dumbfounded at an apparition, as a pair of handcuffed wrists thrust themselves up through the main hatchway and were painfully followed by the rest of Mr. Orlando B. Sturge.

"Oh, good Lord! Look! Is the s.h.i.+p full of 'em?" shouted the Captain.

"They ain't real," murmured Mr. Wapshott soothingly. "You'll get accustomed. They began by being frogs," he explained, with the initiatory air of an elder brother, and waved a feeble hand. "Eggs-- if you'll 'low me, sir, to conclude--egg-sisting in the 'magination only. Go 'way--shoo!"

But Mr. Sturge was not to be disembodied so easily. On the contrary, as the vessel lurched, he sat down suddenly with a material thud and clash of handcuffs upon the poultry-coop, nor was sooner haled to his feet by the strong arm of Mr. Adams than he struck an att.i.tude and opened on the Captain in his finest baritone.

"'Look,' say'st thou? Ay, then, look! Nay, gloat if thou wilt, tyrant--miscreant shall I say?--in human form! Yielding, if I may quote my friend here"--Mr. Sturge laid both handcuffed hands on the shoulder of Bill Adams--"yielding to none, I say, in my admiration of Britain's Navy, I hold myself free to protest against the lawlessness of its minions. I say deliberately, sir, its minions. My name, sir, is Orlando B. Sturge. If that conveys aught to such an intelligence as yours, you will at once turn this vessel round and convey us back to Plymouth with even more expedition than you brought us. .h.i.ther."

Captain Crang fell back and caught at the mizzen shrouds.

"Was I so bad as all that?" he stammered, as Ben Jope, believing him attacked by apoplexy, rushed up the p.o.o.p-ladder and bent over him.

"Lor' bless you, sir," said Mr. Jope, "the best of us may be mistaken at times. But as I've al'ays said, and will maintain, gentlemen will be gentlemen."

But Captain Crang, letting slip his grasp of the shrouds, plumped down on deck in a sitting posture and with a sound like the echo of his own name.

CHAPTER XV.

UP-CHANNEL.

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