Chapter V: Part 5

There was a rush, and a cloud of dust; then there was the noise of yells and cheers, and Captain Dyer shouting to the men to come on; and it all acted like something intoxicating on me, for, catching up a musket, I was making for the door, when I felt an arm holding me back, and I did what I must have done as soon as I got outside--reeled and fainted dead away.

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STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

It was a couple of hours after when I came to, and became sufficiently sensible to know that I was lying with my head in Lizzy's lap, and Harry Lant close beside me. It was very dim, and the heat seemed stifling, so that I asked Lizzy where we were, and she told me in the cellar of the house--a large wide vault, where the women, children, and wounded had been placed for safety, while the noise and firing above told of what was going on.

I was going to ask about Miss Ross, but just then I caught sight of her trying to support her sister, and to keep the children quiet.

As I got more used to the gloom, I made out that there was a small iron grating on one side, through which came what little light and air we got; on the other, a flight of stone steps leading up to where the struggle was in full swing. There was a strong wooden door at the top of this, and twice that door was opened for a wounded man to be brought down; when, coolly as if she were in barracks, there was that noble woman, Mrs Bantem, tying up and binding sword-cuts and bayonet-thrusts as she talked cheerily to the men.

The struggle was very fierce still, the men who brought down the wounded hurrying away, for there was no sign of flinching; but soon they were back with another poor fellow, who was now whimpering, now muttering fiercely:

"If I'd only have had--curse them!--if I'd only had another cartridge or two, I wouldn't have cared," he said as they laid him down close by me; "but I always was the unluckiest beggar on the face of the earth. They've most done for me, Ike, and no wonder, for it's all fifty to one up there, and I don't believe a man of ours has a shot left."

Again the door closed on the two men who had brought down poor Measles, hacked almost to pieces; and again it was opened, to bring down another wounded man, and this one was Lieutenant Leigh. They laid him down, and were off back up the steps, when there was a yelling, like as if all the devils in hell had broken loose, and as the door was opened, Captain Dyer and half a dozen more were beaten back, and I thought they would have been followed down--but no; they stood fast in that doorway, Captain Dyer and the six with him, while the two fellows who had been down leaped up the stairs to support them, so that, in that narrow opening, there were eight sharp British bayonets and the captain's sword, making such a steel hedge as the mutineers could not pass.

They could not contrive either to fire at our party, on account of the wall in front, and every attempt at an entrance was thwarted; but we all knew that it was only a question of time, for it was impossible for man to do more.

There seemed now to be a lull, and only a buzzing of voices above us, mingled with a groan and a dying cry now and then, when I quite forget my pain once more on hearing poor Harry Lant, who had for some time been quite off his head, and raving, commence talking in a quiet sort of way.

"Where's Ike Smith?" he said. "It's all dark here; and I want to say good-bye to him."

I was kneeling by his side the next minute, holding his hand.

"God bless you, Ike," he said; "and God bless her. I'm going, old mate; kiss her for me, and tell her that if she hadn't been made for you, I could have loved her very dearly."

What could I do or say, when the next minute Lizzy was kneeling on his other side, holding his hand?

"God bless you both," he whispered. "You'll get out of the trouble after all; and don't forget me."

We promised him we would not, as well as we could, for we were both choked with sorrow; and then he said, talking quickly:

"Give poor old Sam Measles my 'bacco-box, Ike, the brass one, and shake hands with him for me; and now I want Mother Bantem."

She was by his side directly, to lift him gently in her arms, calling him her poor gallant boy, her brave lad, and no end of fond expressions.

"I never had a bairn, Harry," she sobbed; "but if I could have had one, I'd have liked him to be like you, my own gallant, light-hearted, soldier boy; and you were always to me as a son."

"Was I?" says Harry softly. "I'm glad of it, for I never knew what it was to have a mother."

He seemed to fall off to sleep after that, when, no one noticing them, those two children came up, and the first I heard of it was little Clive crying:

"Ally Lant, Ally Lant, open eyes, and come and play wis elfant."

I started, and looked up to see one of those little innocents, his face smeared, and his little hands all dabbled with blood, trying to open poor Harry Lant's eyes with his tiny fingers.

"Why don't Ally Lant come and play with us?" says the other; and just then he opened his eyes, and looked at them with a smile, when in a moment I saw what was happening, for that poor fellow's last act was to get those two children's hands in his, as if he felt that he should like to let his last grasp in this world be upon something innocent; and then there was a deepening of that smile into a stern look, his lips moved, and all was over; while I was too far off to hear his last words.

But there was one there who did hear them, and she told me afterwards, sobbing as though her heart would break.

"Poor Harry, poor light-hearted Harry," Mother Bantem said. "And did you see the happy smile upon his face as he passed away, clasping those two poor children's hands--so peaceful, so quiet, after all his suffering; forgetting all then, but what seemed like two angels' faces by his dying pillow, for he said, Ike, he said--"

Poor Mother Bantem broke down here, and I thought about what Harry's dying pillow had been--her faithful, old, motherly breast. But she forced back her sobs, and wiped the tears from her rough, plain face, as she said in low, reverent tones: "Poor Harry! His last words: `Of such is the kingdom of heaven.'"

Death was very busy amongst our poor company, and one--two--three more passed away there, for they were riddled with wounds; and then I saw that, in spite of all that could be done, Lieutenant Leigh would be the next. He had received his death wound, and he knew it too; and now he lay very still, holding tightly by Miss Ross's hand, while she knelt beside him.

Captain Dyer, with his eight men, all left, were still keeping the door; but of late they had not been interfered with, and the poor fellows were able to do one another a good turn in binding up wounds. But what all were now suffering for want of was water; and beyond a few drops in one or two of the bottles carried by the women, there was none to be had.

As for me, I could only lie there helpless, and in a half-dreamy way see and listen to all that was going on. The spirit in me was good to help; but think of my state--going for days with that cut on the face, and a broken arm, and in that climate. I was puzzling myself about this time as to what was going to happen next, for I could not understand why the rebels were so quiet; but the next minute I was watching Lieutenant Leigh, and thinking about the morning when we saw Captain Dyer bound to the muzzle of the nine-pounder.

Could he have been thinking about the same thing? I say _yes_, for all at once he sat right up, looking wild and excited. He had hold of Miss Ross's hand; but he threw it from him, as he called out, "Now, my lads, a bold race, and a short one. We must bring them in. Spike the guns, out the cords! Now, then--Elsie or death! Are you ready there? Forward!"

That last word rang through the vault we were in, and Captain Dyer ran down the steps, his hacked sword hanging from his wrist by the knot. But he was too late to take his messmate's hand in his, and say _farewell_, if that had been his intention, for Lieutenant Leigh had fallen back; and that senseless figure by his side was to all appearance as dead, when, with a quivering lip, Captain Dyer gently lifted her, and bore her to where, half stupefied, Mrs Colonel Maine was sitting.

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STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

I got rather confused, and am to this day, about how the time went; things that only took a few minutes seeming to be hours in happening, and what really did take a long time gliding away as if by magic. I think I was very often in a half-delirious state; but I can well remember what was the cause at the silence above.

Captain Dyer was the first to see, and taking a rifle in his hand, he whispered an order or two; and then he, with two more, rushed into the passage, and got the door drawn towards us, for it opened outwards; but in so doing, he slipped on the floor, and fell with a bayonet-thrust through his shoulder, when, with a yell of rage--it was no cheer this time--our men dashed forward, and dragged him in; the door was pulled to, and held close; and then those poor wounded fellows--heroes I call 'em--stood muttering angrily.

I think I got more excited over that scene than over any part of the straggle, and all because I was lying there helpless; but it was of no use to fret, though I lay there with the weak tears running down my cheeks, as that brave man was brought down and laid near the grating, with Mother Bantem at work directly to tear off his coat, and begin to bandage, as if she had been brought up in a hospital.

The door was forsaken, for there was a new guard there, that no one would try to pass, and the silence was explained to us all: first, there was a loud yelling and shrieking outside; and then there was a little thin blue wreath of smoke beginning to curl under the door, crawling along the top step, and collecting like so much blue water, to spread very slowly; for the fiends had been carrying out their wounded and dead, and were now going to burn us where we lay.

I can recollect all that; for now a maddening sense of horror seemed to come upon me, to think that those few poor souls left were to be slain in such a barbarous way, after all the gallant struggle for life; but what surprised me was the calm, quiet manner in which all seemed to take it.

Once, indeed, the men had a talk together, and asked the women to join them in a rush through the passage; but they gave up the thought directly, for they knew that if they could get by the flames, there were more cruel foes outside, waiting to thrust them back.

So they all sat down in a quiet, resigned fashion, listening to the crackle outside the door, watching the thin smoke filter through the crevices, and form in clouds, or pools, according to where it came through.

And you'd have wondered to see those poor fellows, how they acted: why, Joe Bantem rubbed his face with his handkerchief, smoothed his hair and whiskers, and then got his belts square, as if off out on parade, before going and sitting quietly down by his wife.

Measles lay very still, gently humming over the old child's hymn, "O! that'll be joyful," but only to burst out again into a fit of grumbling.

Another went and knelt down in a corner, where he stayed; the rest shook hands all round, and then, seeing Captain Dyer sitting up, and sensible, they went and saluted, and asked leave to shake hands with him, quite upsetting him, poor fellow, as he called them, in a faint voice, his "brave lads," and asked their pardon, if he'd ever been too harsh with them.

"God bless you! no, sir," says Joe Bantem, jumping up, and shaking the hand himself, "which _that_ you've never been, but always a good officer as your company loved. Keep a brave heart, my boys, it'll soon be over. We've stood in front of death too many times now to show the white feather. Hurray for Captain Dyer, and may he be a colonel in the tother land, and we be some of his men!"

Joe Bantem gave a bit of a reel as he said this, and then he'd have fallen if it hadn't been for his wife; and though his was rather strong language, you see it must be excused, for, leave alone his wounds, and the mad feeling they'd bring on, there was a wild excitement on the men then, brought about by the fighting, which made them, as you may say, half-drunk.

We must all have been choked over and over again, but for that grating; for the hotter the fire grew above, the finer current of air swept in. The mutineers could not have known of it, or one of their first acts must have been to seal it up. But it was half-covered by some creeping flower, which made it invisible to them, and so we were able to breathe.

And now it may seem a curious thing, but I'm going to say a little more about love. A strange time, you'll perhaps say, when those poor people were crouching together in that horrible vault, expecting their death moment by moment. But that's why it was, and not from any want of retiring modesty. I believe that those poor souls wished to show those they loved how true was that feeling; and therefore it was that wife crept to husband's side, and Lizzy Green, forgetting all else now, placed her arms round my neck, and her lips to mine, and kissed me again and again.

It was no time for scruples; and thus it was that, being close to them, I heard Miss Ross, kneeling by the side of Captain Dyer, ask him-- sobbing bitterly the while--ask him to forgive her, while he looked almost cold and strange at her, till she whispered to him long and earnestly, when I knew that she must be telling him all about the events of that morning. It must have been, for with a cry of joy I saw him bend towards her, when she threw her arms round him, and clasped his poor bleeding form to her breast.

They were so when I last looked upon them, and every one seemed lost in his or her own suffering, all save those two children, one of whom was asleep on Mrs Maine's lap, and the other playing with the gold knot of Captain Dyer's sword.

Then came a time of misty smoke and heat, and the crackling of woodwork; but all the while there was a stream of hot pure air rushing in at that grating to give us life.

We could hear the black fiends running round and round the burning building, yelling, and no doubt ready to thrust back any one who tried to get out. But there seemed then to come another misty time, from which I was roused by Lizzy whispering to me, "Is it very near now?"

"What?" I said faintly.

"Death," she whispered, with her lips close to my ear. "If it is, pray God that He will never let us part again in the land where all is peace!"

I tried to answer her, but I could not, for the hot, stifling, blinding smoke was now in my throat. Just then the yelling outside seemed to increase. There was a swift rushing sound; the trampling of horses; the jingling of cavalry sabres; a loud English hurray; and a crash; and I knew that there was a charge of horse sweeping by. Then came the hurried beating of feet, the ring of platoon after platoon of musketry, a rapid, squandering, skirmishing fire; more yelling, and more English cheers; the rush, again, of galloping horses; and, by slow degrees, the sound of a fierce skirmish, growing more and more distant, till there came another rapid beating of hoofs, a sudden halt, the jingle and rattle of harness, and a moment after, bim--bom--bom--bom! at regular intervals; and I waved my hand, and gave a faint cheer, for I could mentally see it all: a troop of light-horse had charged twice; the infantry had come up at the double; and now here were the horse-artillery, with their light six-pounders, playing upon the retreating rebels where the cavalry were not cutting them up.

That faint cheer of mine brought out some more; and then there was a terrible silence, for the relief seemed to have come too late; but a couple of our men crawled to the grating, where the air reviving them, they gave another "Hurray!" which was answered directly.

And then there was a loud shout, the excited buzz of voices, the crashing of a pioneer's axe against the framework of the grating; and after a hard fight, from which our friends were beaten back again and again, we poor wretches, nearly all insensible, were dragged out about a quarter of an hour before the burning house fell with a crash. Then there was a raging whirlwind of flame, and smoke, and sparks, and the cellar was choked up with the burning ruin.

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STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

How well I remember coming to myself as I lay there on the grass, with our old surgeon, Mr Hughes, kneeling by my side; for it was our own men that formed the infantry of the column, with a troop of lancers, and one of horse-artillery. There was Colonel Maine kneeling by his wife, who, poor soul, was recovering fast, and him turning from her to the children, and back again; while it was hard work to keep our men from following up the pursuit, now kept up by the lancers and horse-artillery, so mad and excited were they to find only eight wounded men out of the company they had left.

But, one way and another, the mutineers paid dear for what suffering they caused us. I can undertake to say that, for every life they took, half-a-dozen of their own side fell--the explosion swept away, I suppose, quite fifty, just as they had attempted a surprise, and came over from the south side in a night-attack; while the way in which they were cut up in the engagement was something awful.

For, anxious beyond measure at not hearing news of the party left in Begumbagh, Colonel Maine had at length obtained permission to go round by that station, reinforce the troops, and then join the general by another route.

They were making forced marches, when they caught sight of the rebels yelling round the burning building, fully a couple of hundred being outside; when, not knowing of the sore strait of those within, they had charged down, driving the murderous black scoundrels before them like so much chaff.

But you, must not think that our pains were at an end. Is it not told in the pages of history how for long enough it was a hard fight for a standing in India, and how our troops were in many places sore put to it; while home after home was made desolate by the most cruel outrages? It was many a long week before we could be said to be in safety; but I don't know that I suffered much beyond the pains of that arm, or rather that stump, for our surgeon, Mr Hughes, when I grumbled a little at his taking it off, told me I might be very thankful that I had escaped with life, for he had never known of such a case before. But it was rather hard lying alone there in the temporary hospital, missing the tender hands that one loved.

And yet I have no right to say quite alone, for poor old Measles was on one side, and Joe Bantem on the other, with Mrs Bantem doing all she could for us three, as well as five more of our poor fellows.

More than once I heard Mr Hughes talk about the men's wounds, and say it was wonderful how they could live through them; but to live they all seemed disposed, except poor Measles, who was terrible bad and delirious, till one day, when he could hardly speak above a whisper, he says to me--being quite in his right mind:

"I daresay some of you chaps think that I'm going to take my discharge; but all the same, you're wrong, for I mean to go in now for promotion!"

He said "now;" but what he did then was to go in for sleep--and sleep he did for a good four-and-twenty hours, when he woke up grumbling, and calling himself the most unlucky beggar that ever breathed.

Time went on; and one by one we poor fellows got out of hospital cured; but I was the last; and it was many months after, that, at his wish, I called upon Captain--then Major--Dyer, at his house in London. For, during those many months, the mutiny had been suppressed, and our regiment had been ordered home.

I was very weak and pale, and I hadn't got used to this empty sleeve, and things looked very gloomy ahead; but, somehow, that day when I called at Major Dyer's seemed the turning-point; for to a poor soldier there was something very soothing for your old officer to jump up, with both hands outstretched to catch yours, and to greet you as warmly as did his handsome, bonny wife.

They seemed as if they could hardly make enough of me; but the sight of their happiness made me feel low-spirited; and I felt no better when Mrs Dyer--God bless her!--took my hand in hers, and led me to the next room, where she said there was an old friend wanted to see me.

I felt that soft jewelled hand holding mine, and I heard the door close as Mrs Dyer went out again, and then I stood seeing nothing--hearing nothing--feeling nothing, but a pair of clinging arms round my neck, and a tear-wet face pressed to mine.

And did that make me feel happy?

No! I can say it with truth. For as the mist cleared away from my eyes, and I looked down on, to me, the brightest, truest face the sun ever shone on, there was a great sorrow in my heart, as I told myself that it was a sin and a wrong for me, a poor invalided soldier, to think of taking advantage of that fine handsome girl, and tying her down to one who was maimed for life.

And at last, with the weak tears running down my cheeks, I told her of how it could not be; that I should be wronging her, and that she must think no more of me, only as a dear friend; when there is that amount of folly in this world, that my heart swelled, and a great ball seemed rising in my throat, and I choked again and again, as those arms clung tighter and tighter round my neck, and Lizzy called me her hero, and her brave lad who had saved her life again and again; and asked me to take her to my heart, and keep her there, for her to try and be to me a worthy loving wife--one that would never say a bitter word to me as long as she lived.

I said that there was so much folly in this world, so how can you wonder at me catching it of her, when she was so close that I could feel her breath upon my cheeks, my hair, my eyes, as once more, forgetting all in her love, she kissed me again and again. How, then, could I help, but with that one hand press her to my heart, and go the way that weak heart of mine wished.

I know it was wrong; but how can one always fight against weakness? And, to tell you the truth, I had fought long enough--so long that I wished for peace. And I must say this, too, you must not be hard on Lizzy, and think that it would have been better for her to have let me do a little more of the courting: there are exceptional cases, and this was one.

I had a true friend in Major Dyer, and to him I owe my present position--not a very grand one; but speaking honestly as a man, I don't believe, if I had been a general, some one at home could think more of me; while, as to this empty sleeve, she's proud of it, and says that all the country is the same.

Wandering about as a regiment is, one does not often have a chance to see one's old messmates; but Sergeant and Mrs Bantem and Sergeant Measles did have tea and supper with us one night here in London, Mrs Bantem saying that Measles was as proud of his promotion as a dog with two tails, though Measles did say he was an unlucky beggar, or he'd have been a captain. And, my! what a night we did have of that, without one drawback, only Measles would spit on my wife's Brussels carpet; and so we did have a night last year when the old regiment was stationed at Edinburgh, and the wife and me had a holiday, and went down and saw Colonel and Mrs Maine, and those children grown up a'most into a man and woman. But Colonel Dyer had exchanged into another regiment, and they say he is going to retire on half-pay, on account of his wound troubling him.

We fought our old battles over again on those nights; and we did not forget the past and gone; for Mrs Bantem stood up after supper, with her stiff glass of grog in her hand--a glass into which I saw a couple of tears fall, as she spoke of the dead--the brave men who fell in defence of the defenceless and innocent, hoping that the earth lay lightly on the grave of Lieutenant Leigh, while she proposed the memory of brave Harry Lant.

We drank that toast in silence; and more than one eye was wet as the old scenes came back--scenes such as I hope may never fall to the lot of men again to witness; for if there is ever a fervent prayer sent up to the Maker of All by me, an old soldier, who has much to answer for, it is contained in those words, so familiar to you all:

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"Peace on Earth!" _Amen_.

STORY TWO: ABOARD THE SEA-MEW.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER ONE.

I shipped aboard the Sea-mew, full-rigged, trading from the port of London to New Zealand. Two more old shipmates of mine entered along with me; and we were just beginning to feel the breeze that would send us down Channel in less than no time. The skipper came aboard at Gravesend, and the rest of the passengers, and among 'em we had one poor chap who had to be whipped up in a chair, looking the while like as if he'd come aboard to find a hammock and a sailor's funeral. There was some petticoats, too, about him, and they had to be whipped up too, but I didn't take much notice, being hurried about here and ordered there, and the passengers all seeming to have an idea, that now they'd come aboard, all there was to do was to get in everybody's way, and stand wiping their eyes. They would get in your way and aggravate, and when they moved, go and stand somewhere wuss, till it was enough to make a saint swear; and I'm blest if I don't think that, being a man used to the sea, and a quick-tempered sort of a fellow, Peter hisself would have gone on 'most as bad as I did. What does a great fat fellow of two-and-forty want to go walloping down where the mate had told you to coil forty fathom o' rope, and then begin blubbering like a great gal? And what do people as have done nothing but grumble and cuss at the old country, go waving their handkerchiefs at it for, and then fall into one another's arms a-kissing and a-hugging, and just, too, when the deck's in such a litter that the skipper and the mate are 'most raving mad?

It's a nice place, deck of a ship just before sailing, what with the lumber, and the crew being all raw, and half of 'em three parts, or quite drunk. We'd a nice lot, we had, aboard the Sea-mew; for it seemed to me, as soon as I saw them together, that the skipper had been having the pick of the docks, and choosing all them as nobody else wouldn't take aboard a ship. But it was in this way: there'd been a sort of an upset about pay, and half the merchant-sailors were on strike; and as the owners of the Sea-mew had advertised her to sail at a certain time, and it was ten days past that time, the skipper had been obliged to sign articles with any one he could get. They were all fresh ones to us; six-and-twenty of 'em, but mostly seemed to know one another, and how to handle a rope.

We'd a mixed freight--live-stock mostly, going out emigrating, and more live-stock to feed 'em with, and a young doctor to see as they was all well, and had their salts-and-senny reg'lar; and a great big chap as couldn't stand up down below, but was always chipping his head, and taking the shape out of his hat against what he called the ceiling. They said he was a nat'ralist, though he was about the longest, okkardest, corner-shaped, unnat'ral fellow I ever did see; and he'd got more live-stock in no end of great cages--cock-sparrows and tom-tits, and blackbirds and starnels, and all sorts o' little twittering things to introduce amongst the New Zealanders. Then there was Brummagem and Manchester and Sheffield goods, and plants and seeds in cases; and the deck that full, that, as I said before, it was enough to make any one swear, let alone a sailor.

'Tain't a nice time, the first week at sea; for, to begin with, it takes all that time to get the longshore goings-on shook out of the men, and them fit to work well together; then, if it happens to blow a bit, as it mostly does in the Channel, there's all the passengers badly, cabin and steerage, and their heads chock-full of shipwrecks; and when they ain't frightened of going to the bottom, calling the doctor a brute for not attending to 'em. Sea-sickness is bad enough, while it lasts, but folks needn't be so disagreeable about it, and every one think his case ten hundred times worse than anybody else's; but they will do it; and as for the fat chap as cried so about going away, he quite upset the young doctor, as they called Mr Ward; and if I'd been him, and been bothered as he was, I'd have give Mr Fatsides such a dose o' Daffy as would have sent him to sleep for a week.

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STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWO.

"You've put your foot in it, Sam Brown," I says to my old shipmet when things was about knocked together, and we were bowling along well out of sight of land. We'd been putting that and that together, and found out that for some months to come, let alone wind and weather, we'd got our work cut out, the skipper being one of your reg'lar slave-drivers, that nothing can't satisfy, and the mate a sneak, as would do anything to please the captain. So "You've put your foot in it, Sam Brown," I says; but he only grunted. Bill Spragg, though--my other mate--turns a bit rusty, and says it was me as got them to sign the articles, and it was all my fault; for he was a bit sore, owing to a row he'd been in that day.

But it was no use to growl, and say the ship was a bad one; we were in the ship, and bad captain, bad mate, bad crew, and bad victualling, there it all was, and there was no getting away from it.

"Never mind, lads; 'tain't bad pay," I says.

"Pay!" says Bill Spragg. "I'd forfeit to-morrow to be out of it, and-- Look ye there, Tom."

I turned to look; and it was the passenger I've spoken of before, him that was whipped up on deck, and now he was out for the first time for a walk, being a bright sunshiny time; while the petticoat as came on board with him was leading him about the deck.

"Looks bad," I says.

"Yes," says Bill. "But I meant the lass. Just look at her."

"What for?" I says.

"Fine lines," growls Sam Brown, squinting at her, for he was a chap that could squint awful, and when he looked partic'lar at anything his eyes used to get close together, and he had to turn his head first on one side and then on the other. He was such a quiet chap, and spoke so little, that I used to think his eyes tried to turn round and look inside his head, to see what he was thinking about. "Fine lines," he says, and then he shuts one eye up, and holds it close, while he has another look.

"Beautiful! ain't she?" says Bill.

"Gammon," I says. "Wax-doll. She'd better not get wet, or she'd melt. I wish they wouldn't have no women aboard."

"Why?" says some one close behind me. And looking round, there was the young doctor and Tomtit, as we called him--the long chap as had all the birds.

"Why?" I says gruffly; "because they're in the way, and ain't no good, and consooms the ship's stores. Would my deck be littered here with hens and cocks singing out eight bells when 'tain't nothing of the kind; and a couple of cows as is always lowing to be milked, and then giving some thin stuff like scupper-washings; and a goat and sheep till the place only wants an old turkey-cock and jackass or two to be a reg'lar farmyard, 'stead o' a ship's deck--would there be all these things there if it warn't for the women? Bother the women! I wish there wasn't a woman on the face of the earth."

"He was crossed in love when he was a young un, sir," says Bill Spragg with a grin.

"Women's right enough ashore," says Sam Brown, and he squinted towards where the sick patient was along with the petticoat, till both his eyes went out of sight behind his nose, which was rather long in the bridge, and then he sighed, and we sprinkled the sea with a little baccy-juice before coming back to the job we were at--scraping the chain-cable.

"One of our protectors wants to pay his regards to you, Miss Bell," says Mr Ward, the young doctor, you know, for just then she was passing close with the poor thin sick chap, who was her husband, and I saw her just bend her head as the doctor and Tomtit took off their hats to her.

"Sarvant, miss," I says gruffly, getting my legs straight too, for there was something about her that seemed to compel one to be civil like, being such a bright-eyed girl, with red and white in her face and a set o' teeth as couldn't have known what it was to want to be pulled out in their lives. "Sarvant, Miss," I says, making a scrape, and not a bit took aback. "I was only a-saying as worn--ladies ain't no business aboard ships."

"And why not?" she said quietly.

"'Cause all's rough and ready, and folk's tongues gets running too free afore them," I says. And then to myself: "That's one for you, Mr Jalap;" and then I turned towards the sick young man, whose sunken eyes looked brighter, and angry, and jealous like, as he held tight by his sister's arm, and he says: "Come, lady, let's go below. The sailor is right. Drink my health, my man;" and he threw me a shilling.

"That I will, sir," I says, as he turned away, though I thought to myself it would want drinking a many times before I could do him any good.

The doctor looked rather black at me; but I wouldn't see it, and got down cross-legged at my work, while Tomtit and he lit their cigars, and began walking up and down the deck.

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STORY TWO, CHAPTER THREE.

What a wonderful deal a sailor can get to know if he only keeps his eyes and ears open! Of course, I mean aboard ship, where everything is, as you may say, close to your hand. Now, acting after this way, and being a rough, blunt sort of an old fellow--for I always looked old from the time I was forty--people would come and make friends with me, in a fashion, so that I got to know a deal. The doctor would have his chat on things in general, and give me cigars, and by degrees work round to the sick passenger and his case; and I soon could see that though he didn't care a damp about the sick passenger, he took a deal of interest in his case, and I could guess pretty well why. Then Tomtit would come and fold his back, so that he could lean his elbers on the bulwarks, and he'd chatter about his birds, all the while smoothing his hair, and arranging his tie and collar, and brushing specks off his coat, as he kept looking towards the cabin-stairs, to see if some one was coming up; and when--being a thoroughly good-hearted, weak, soft-Tommy sort of a chap--he'd heave a great sigh, I used to shake my head at him, and say as I could see what was the matter with he, it was wonderful how friendly he'd get.

"I wouldn't care if I had a few canaries on board," he'd say. "They are such nice birds if you want to make a present to a lady."

"Why not try a couple o' doves?" I says.

He looked at me as if he meant to do it through and through, but I don't think he got far below the outside rind--mine being rather a thick skin, and I didn't let a single wrinkle squeeze up to look like a smile; so he says, after a minute's thought: "You're right, Roberts," he says; and that night, hang me, if he didn't send me to the cabin with a note, and a cage with a couple of turtle-doves in. He gave me half-a-crown for taking it, and he'd been busy all the afternoon touching up the cage with a bit of ship's paint, that wasn't half dry when I took it; but I brought it back again with me, with Mr and Miss Bell's compliments and thanks, but Mr Bell's health would not bear the noise of the birds.

The poor chap--Butterwell, his name was--looked awfully down when he saw me come back, but he wouldn't show it more than he could help; he only said something about wishing he'd had canaries, and turning his back to me, began to whistle, and feed his other birds, of which he'd got quite five hundred in a place fitted up on purpose, though there was nearly always one or two dead of a morning, specially if the night had been rough.

Well, somehow, I got to see that Miss Bell was not without her admirers; while her brother, poor chap, clinging to her as the only being he had to love on earth, seemed to hate for a soul to speak to her, and whenever I saw him, he used to watch her every look. Not that he had any need, for she seemed almost to worship him; leading him about; reading to him for hours, till I've heard her husky and hoarse, and have gone and fetched a glass of lime-juice and water from the steward, to get a pleasant smile from her, and a nod from the sick man for what I had done.

"You're a lucky man, Roberts," Mr Ward says to me one day when he had seen me fetch it, and the pay I got for my trouble.

"What for?" I says gruffly, for it wasn't no business of his. "P'raps you'd like to change places, sir, eh?" But he only laughed, and the more rough I was, the better friends we kept.

There were many more passengers, of course, but I never saw that they were any different to other cargoes of emigrants as I had helped to take over: there was two or three of those young chaps that always go out to make fortunes, packed off by their friends because they don't know what to do with them at home; some young farmers, and labourers, and mechanics--some with wife and children, some without; children there was plenty of--always is where there's women; and one way and another there was enough to make the ship uncomfortable, without a skipper who was a brute, and a mate a cowardly sneak. The crew were as bad a lot as ever ran round a capstan, but that was no reason why they were to be treated like dogs. If they'd been as good men as ever stepped, it would have been the same, for Bill Smith and Sam were A1 foremast-men; and while there was a sheet to haul taut, a sail to furl, or a bit of deck to holy-stone, I was ready to take my turn; but it was all the same, and I've seen the men bullied till they've gone scowling down below, and more than once I've said to Sam: "There'll be foul weather yet, my lad, afore we get this voyage to an end."

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STORY TWO, CHAPTER FOUR.

Now, as to ordinary weather, that was all as a sailor could wish for-- bright skies, fine starn winds, and the ship bowling along her nine or ten knots an hour. We got into the warm belts, shoved up the awnings, and had our bits of fishing as chances come up; but for all that, I wasn't easy in my mind. I'd been so long at sea, and knocked about amongst so many sorts of people, and in such different weather, that appearances that would not have been noticed by some folks made a bit of an impression on me, and not without reason, as you'll say by and by. For instance, it didn't look well, so I thought, for a chap to out knife and threaten the captain for hitting him on the head with a speaking-trumpet, though it might be only in a bit of a passion, still it didn't seem right; nor yet for the skipper to be always harassing the men when there was no need--piping all hands up to make or shorten sail, when the watch could have done it very well themselves, and then making the men do it again and again, because it wasn't what he called smart enough. You see, men don't take much notice of that sort of thing once, nor yet twice, but if it's kept up, they grumble, 'specially when they know they've been doing their best. Then the provisions were horrible, and enough to make any man discontented; water wasn't served out in sufficient quantity, and things got so bad at last that the men had meetings, right forward of a night, about the way they were served.

I knew a good deal and heard a good deal, but it didn't seem to be my place to go and tell tales, and besides, I never thought there'd be much the matter, more than a row, and perhaps a man or two put in irons, to be kept there till we got into port. I said so, in fact, to my mates Bill and Sam, "and what's more," I says, "irons won't do for me, my lads, so let's make the best of things, and get a better ship as soon as we can." Sam grunts, and Bill Smith said it was all right; so we went on with what was set us to do, and made as little trouble of it as we could.

But there was one chap aboard as the captain seemed quite to hate, and used to put upon him shameful. He was a thin wiry fellow, as yellow as a guinea, and looked as if he'd black blood in his veins; but he always swore as he had not. He'd got a Dutch sort of name, Van Haigh, but hailed somewhere out of one of the West Indy Islands, and had knocked about almost everywhere. Curious-looking chap he was, looked as if he'd always got his parlour window-blinds half pulled down, and he'd peep at you sideways from underneath them in a queer catlike sort of way. He was quite a swell fellow in his way, only dirty as dirty, and that didn't do nothing towards setting off the big silver rings he had in his ears, and was uncommon proud of. We mostly used to call him "Van" for short; and against this chap the skipper always seemed to have a spite, bullying him about more than all the rest put together, till you might have thought his life would have been miserable--but not it; he always showed his white teeth and grinned, pocketing all that the skipper and the mate gave him, till them pockets of his must have been full and nigh unto bursting. Once the captain knocked him down with a marlinespike, but he never drew no knives, not even when the mate kicked him, and told him to get up. He only grinned, but it was a queer sort of grin, and I didn't like the look of it.

These sort of rows used generally to take place when the passengers had gone down of a night, or before they came on deck of a morning. While before the cabin lot, Captain Harness was quite the gentleman, and it seemed to me that he had a sort of hankering after Miss Bell, like some more of them, or else he wouldn't have been so wonderfully civil about having Mr Bell's chair moved here and there, and wanting him to take wine, and things that Mr Ward said he was better without.

As to the fore-cabin passengers, they went on just about the same as fore-passengers mostly do: asked every day whether we were nearly there, played ship's billiards, and a bit or two of music; smoked a deal, and slept a deal more, and only did just so much work as they was obliged to. No doubt there was their little bits of squabbling, and courting, and so on, going on; but my eyes were turned in another direction; and, soon after we'd crossed the line, I couldn't help thinking how very sixy-and-seveny matters had growed. Instead of being friendly, there was quite an unpleasantness between Mr Ward and the Bells, for the sick man was as jealous as could be, and it was plain enough that he downright hated the doctor. As for Miss Bell, as far as I could see, she never even bowed to him, and he and Tomtit used to walk up and down the deck together, as if they were the fastest of friends. "And why don't they bow to one another as they used?" I says to myself, as I lay in my hammock. "Why don't you mind your own business and go to sleep?" says Common-sense; and as I was too tired to argufy, I made no answer, but went off sound.

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STORY TWO, CHAPTER FIVE.

Now, if what I'm going to tell you had happened a week sooner, I should have been on the look-out for it, or if it had come off a week later; but, like many more such things, it came when it wasn't expected, and my sails were took aback as much as anybody's.

Things had been going on more peaceably than usual--weather having been hot, with light steady wind, which just took us easily through the water with stunsails set alow and aloft. The heat had made the captain sleepy, and he showed precious little on deck, while the mate, who always took his tone from the skipper, used just to give an order or two, and then make himself as comfortable as he could.

It was my watch one night with Sam Brown, Bill Smith, and a couple more. Hot! it was one of the hottest nights I ever knew, and we were lolling about over the sides, looking at the golden green water as it gently washed by the bows as we just parted it, making only way enough for the ship to answer her helm. Bill Smith had gone to take his trick at the wheel, and, looking along the deck, you could just make out his face by the binnacle-light shining up and around him. There was a faint glow, too, up from the cabin skylights, and from where the ship's lanterns flashed on the water, else it was a thick darkness everywhere, and us sailing through it, and seeming to get nearer and nearer to some great black heat, that made the perspiration stream out of you at every pore.

"'Nuff to bake 'em down below, Sam," I says, after we'd been quiet for a good hour. "I fancy if I was there, I should be for coming up and lying on the deck, where it's cooler."

"Cooler!" says one of them with us, "why, the planks are hot yet."

"But you can breathe," I says.

"Well, yes," says the other; "you _can_ get your breath."

Then we were quite still again for a piece, when Sam gives me a shove, to call my attention to something.

"Well, what now?" I says.

"They're a-coming on deck," says Sam.

"They're in the right of it," I says; "and if--"

I got no more out, for there was a hand clapped over my mouth, and the next moment I was at it in an up-and-down struggle with some one, but not so hard but that I heard Sam Brown go down like a bullock upon the deck; and then I shook myself free, ran to the mizen-shrouds, and sprang up them like a cat; and, as soon as I was out of reach, leaned down and listened.

There was no mistake about it: the ship had been taken with hardly so much as a scuffle, and though I could not see more than a figure trot quickly by one of the skylights, I could hear that the hatches were being secured, and men posted there; and for a minute I felt sure that we had been boarded in the darkness, and that I, one of the principal men in the watch, had kept a bad lookout. Directly after, though, there came a bit more scuffling and an oath or two, and I heard a voice that I knew for Bill Smith's, and another that I could tell was Van's; and then, like a light, it all came upon me that while we had been watching out-board, there was an enemy in the ship, and the men had risen.

I wouldn't have it for a bit, feeling sure that I must have known of it; but I was obliged to give in, for I heard next in the darkness a hammering at the cabin doors, and the skipper's voice shouting to be let out; and then came the mate's backing him up; then a pistol-shot or two, and the shivering of glass, like as if the cabin skylight had been broken; and then came Van's shrill voice, giving orders, and threatening; and from the way the man spoke, I knew in a minute that there had been a chained devil amongst us, and that he had broken loose.