Bob Strong's Holidays Part 15

Bob, on his part, had caught up a piece of broken timber, and was advancing to the faithful dog's aid.

But a boy like Bob, even with the help of such a valiant protector as the retriever, could do little or nothing against a burly, ruffianly giant, six feet high, and broad in proportion.

The arrival of the Captain on the scene with d.i.c.k, however, altered the aspect of affairs considerably.

The gipsy tramp, who had sworn to Bob, and at him too, that the bundle was his own, and that he was walking quietly along the sh.o.r.e in search of work, when he was a.s.sailed by "that savage dog o' yourn there," now said, on the Captain's telling him curtly to drop the towels, or he would have him locked up, that he had "only picked 'em up on the beach, and didn't mean no harm by it to n.o.body, that he didn't."

"Then the sooner you are off out of this, the better for you, my friend," said the Captain, on the man's letting go the bundle of towels, which Rover at once carried off in triumph and laid at Bob's feet. "Be off with you, you rascal, at once!" The man took his advice, and slouched away round the castle, soon disappearing from their sight; when, much excited by the unexpected little incident that they now would have to detail to Mrs Gilmour and Nellie, besides being full of Rover's bravery and sagacity, they took their way home again, for the second time, across the common, the clock of old Saint Thomas's church in the distance striking as they turned their faces homeward--"One--two-- three--four--five--six--seven--eight--*Nine*!"

"Look sharp, lads, or we'll be late for the steamer!" cried the old sailor, as they hurried along, setting the example by hastening onwards as fast as his little legs, aided by his ever-present malacca cane, could carry him. "I'm told that the _Bembridge Belle_ will leave the pier at ten o'clock without fail, wind and weather permitting, and it has just struck nine--all through your loitering and skylarking in the water, Master Bob and you d.i.c.k, and that long palaver we had afterwards with your friend the towel-thief."

On reaching the house, where breakfast was all ready awaiting their arrival, the old Captain, while hurrying through the meal, found time to chaff Nellie about this "rival collector," as he called the prowling tramp when narrating all about the adventure that had detained them; telling her she would have to look to her laurels, and gather up all the odds and ends she could find, on the beach, or else this gentleman, who had displayed such zeal that morning in trying to add to his collection, would certainly outvie hers.

"Now, children," said Mrs Gilmour, when breakfast and chaff had both come to an end, repeating the Captain's favourite word of command, "Look sharp!"

Her preparations had all been made beforehand; and without losing another moment, she and the Captain, with Bob and Nellie behind them, started off, d.i.c.k, who had been taken care of meanwhile by Sarah in the kitchen, bringing up the rear with a substantial-looking hamper on his shoulder.

Almost breathless, alike from excitement and their rapid pace, they made their way seawards, to where the _Bembridge Belle_ was blowing off her steam alongside the pier, sounding her whistle to tell belated pa.s.sengers like themselves that they had better put their best foot foremost if they wished to reach her in time.

"All aboard?" inquired the captain of the steamer from his post on the port paddle-box, hailing the porter of the pier ash.o.r.e, when they, the very last of the late-comers, had scrambled across the gangway; and the porter having signified that no one now was in sight, the blue-capped gentleman standing on the paddle-box touched the engine-room telegraph, and gave the signal to "Go ahead!"

In another minute, the fore and aft hawsers that had previously made her fast to the pier were cast-off, and her paddles began to revolve with a heavy splashing sound, like that of flails in a farmyard threshing out the grain.

"Starboard!" sang out her skipper, now mounting from the paddle-box to the bridge above. "Hard over, my man!"

"Starboard it is, sir," replied the helmsman, rapidly twirling the spokes of the wheel as he spoke. "It's right over, sir."

"Steady!" now sang out the skipper, meaning that the vessel's head had been sufficiently turned in the direction he desired. "Steady; keep her so."

"Steady it is, sir," repeated the man at the wheel like a parrot, to show that the order had been understood and acted upon. "Steady it is."

"Port a trifle now."

"Aye, aye, sir," returned the helmsman, reversing the wheel. "Port it is, sir; two points over."

"Steady."

"Steady it is."

Whereupon, a straight course being now laid for the little port to which they were bound on the Isle of Wight opposite, the _Bembridge Belle_ steamed ahead, splashing and dashing through the water, that rippled over with laughter in the bright sunshine, lightening up its translucent depths, and leaving a broad silvery wake of dancing eddies behind her.

CHAPTER TEN.

AFLOAT--AND ASh.o.r.e.

"Sure, I'm almost dead entirely, with all that hurrying and scurrying!"

exclaimed Mrs Gilmour, when she was at length got safely on board the little steamer and comfortably placed on a cosy seat aft, near the wheel, to which Captain Dresser had gallantly escorted her. "Really, now, I couldn't have run another yard, if it had been to save me life!"

She panted out the words with such a racy admixture of her Irish "brogue," which always became more "p.r.o.nounced" with her when she was at all excited in any way, that the Captain, even while showing every sympathy for her distressed condition, could not help chuckling as he imitated her tone of voice and accent--much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of Master Bob and Miss Nellie, you may be sure!

"Sure, an' there's no knowin' what ye can do, now, till ye thry, ma'am!"

said he. "Is there, me darlint?"

"None of your nonsense," she replied laughing; "I won't have you making fun of my country like that. I'm sure you're just as much an Irishman as I am!"

This slip delighted the Captain.

"There, ma'am," he exclaimed exultingly, "you've been and gone and put your foot in it now in all conscience."

"Oh, auntie!" cried Nellie, "an _Irishman_!"

This made Mrs Gilmour see her blunder, and she cheerfully joined in the laugh against herself.

Bob, meanwhile, had stationed himself by the engine-room hatchway, and was contemplating with rapt attention the almost human-like movements of the machinery below.

How wonderful it all was, he thought--the up and down stroke of the piston in and out of the cylinder, which oscillated from side to side guided by the eccentric; with the steady systematic revolution of the shaft, borne round by the crank attached to the piston-head, all working so smoothly, and yet with such resistless force!

The whole was a marvel to him, as indeed it is to many of us to whom a marine engine is no novelty.

"Well, my young philosopher," said the Captain, tapping him on the shoulder and making him take off his gaze for a moment from the sight, "do you think you understand the engines by this time, eh?"

Bob only needed the hint to speak; and out he came with a whole volley of questions.

"What is that thing there?" he asked, "the thing that goes round, I mean."

"The paddle-shaft," replied the Captain; "it turns the wheels."

"And that other thing that goes up and down?"

"The piston-rod," said the old sailor. "It is this which turns the shaft."

"Then, I want to know how the piston makes the shaft turn round, when it only goes up and down itself?"

"The 'eccentric' manages to do that, although it was a puzzle for a long time to engineers to solve the problem--not until, I believe, Fulton thought of this plan," said the Captain; and, he then went on to explain how, in the old beam-engine of Watt, as well as in the earlier contrivances for utilising steam-power, a fly-wheel was the means adopted for changing the perpendicular action of the piston into a circular motion. "Of course, though," he added, "this fly-wheel was only available in stationary engines for pumping and so on; but, when the principle of the eccentric was discovered later in the day, the previously uneducated young giant, 'Steam,' was then broken to harness, so to speak, being thenceforth made serviceable for dragging railway- carriages on our iron roads, and propelling ships without the aid of sails, and against the wind even, if need be!"

"But what is steam?" was Bob's next query. "That's what I want to know."

This fairly bothered the Captain.

"Steam?" he repeated, "steam, eh? humph! steam is, well let me see, steam is--steam!"

Bob exploded at this, his merriment being shared by Nellie and Mrs Gilmour, the latter not sorry for the old sailor's "putting his foot in it" by a very similar blunder to that for which he had laughed at her shortly before; while, as for d.i.c.k, the struggles he made to hide the broad grin which would show on his face were quite comical and even painful to witness.

The Captain pretended to get into a great rage; although his twinkling eyes and suppressed chuckle testified that it was only pretence all the time, though his pa.s.sion was well simulated.

"I don't see anything to laugh at, you young rascal," he said to Bob.