Harry Milvaine Part 15

Well, anyhow, he would go and buy some addition to his outfit. He had read books about Greenland, and he knew what to purchase. Everything must be rough and warm.

When he had made his purchases he found he had only thirty shillings remaining of all his savings.

As he was bargaining for a pair of thick mitts a gentleman entered the shop and bade the young woman who had been serving Harry a kindly good morning.

"What can I do for you to-day, Captain Hardy?" asked the woman, with a smile.

"Ah! well," returned the captain, "I really didn't want anything, you know. Just looked in to have a peep at your pretty face, that's all."

"Oh, Captain Hardy, you're not a bit changed since you were here last season."

"No, Miss Mitford, no; the seasons may change, but Captain Hardy--never.

Well, I'll have a couple of pairs of worsted gloves; no fingers in them, only a thumb."

"Anything else?"

"Come, now to think of it, May-day will come before many months, and--"

"Oh, sly Captain Hardy," said Miss Mitford, with a bit of a blush, "you want some ribbons to hang on the garland [Note 1]. Now I daresay you have quite a pocketful, the gifts of other young ladies."

"'Pon honour, Miss Mitford, I--"

"No more, Captain Hardy. There?" she added, handing him a little packet, "they are of all the new colours, too."

"Well, well, well, I daresay they are delightfully pretty, but I'm sure I sha'n't remember the names of one-half of them."

"And when do you sail?"

"Oh, I was going to tell you. The _Inuita_ is going first this year.

Will be first among the seals, Miss Mitford, and first home."

"And I trust with a full ship."

"G.o.d bless you for saying that, my birdie. Well, we're off the day after to-morrow at four o'clock. Good-bye; come and see you again before I sail."

And off dashed Captain Hardy of the good ship _Inuita_.

A great kindly-eyed man he was, with an enormous brown beard, which I daresay he oiled, for it glittered in the winter sunshine like the back of a boatman beetle.

"One of the best-hearted men that ever lived," said Miss Mitford to Harry, as soon as he was gone; "strict in discipline, though; but his officers and men all love him, and he has the same first mate every year. May Providence protect the dear man, for he has a wild and stormy sea to cross!"

Harry soon after left the shop.

"The _Inuita_," he said to himself--"the _Inuita_, Captain Hardy, sails the day after to-morrow at four o'clock. Well, I'll try, and if I fail, then--I must fail, that's all."

This was on a Thursday, next day was Friday. On this day it is supposed to be unlucky to sail. At all events, Captain Hardy did not mean to.

Not that he was superst.i.tious, but his men might be, and sure enough, if they afterwards came to grief in any way, they would lose heart and make such remarks as the following:

"Nothing more than we could have expected."

"What luck _could_ happen to us, when we sailed on a Friday?"

Captain Hardy was a man who always kept a promise and an appointment.

He had told his mate that he would sail on Sat.u.r.day at two in the afternoon, and his mate got all ready long before that time.

The captain was dining with friends on sh.o.r.e.

About half-past one a boat with two lazy-looking Shetland men pulled off to the ship.

"Well," cried Mr Menzies, the mate, "bright young men you are! Why weren't you here at twelve o'clock, eh? There, don't answer; for'ard with you. Don't dare to speak, or I'll take a belaying-pin to you."

About a quarter before two another boat was seen coming off.

"More Shetlanders, I suppose," said the mate to the spectioneer.

"I don't think so. There is only the boatman and a lad, and the lad has an oar. You never see a Shetlander take an oar, if he can help it."

"By gum! though," cried the mate, enthusiastically, "that youngster does pull nimbly. Why he feathers his oar like one of an Oxford eight!"

"He seems a genteel lad," replied the spectioneer; "but it won't do to tell him he rows well. Make him too proud, and spoil him."

"Trust _me_," said the mate, with a grim smile. "I'll talk to him in quite a different fashion."

He lowered his brows as he spoke, and tried to look old and fierce.

"Boat there!" he shouted, as she was nearly alongside.

"Ay, ay, sir," sang Harry, standing up and saluting.

Harry believed this was the correct thing to do, and he was not _very_ far wrong.

"What do you mean, sir, by coming here at this time of day? The orders were, Mr Young Griffin, that every one should be on board by ten o'clock this forenoon; and look you here, I've a jolly good mind to bundle you on sh.o.r.e again, bag and baggage."

"Don't, sir," began Harry; "I wish to--"

"Don't answer me. Up you tumble. Here, one o' you greenhorns, standing there with your fingers in your mouths, up with the boy's bag, and send it below."

"If you please, sir, I want to speak with the captain, I--"

"Oh, you do, do you?" sneered the mate, in a mocking tone. "He wants to speak to the captain, does he? Perhaps he wants to make a complaint, and say the first mate scolded him. Never been to sea before, poor boy.

Has he brought his feather-bed and his night-cap, and a bottle of hot water to put at his feet? A pretty ticket you'd be to go and speak to the captain."

"But, sir, I--"

"_Don't_ answer me," cried the mate, talking now in a loud, commanding voice. "If you say as much as one word more, or half a word, I'll rope's-end you within an inch of your life. Now for'ard you fly. Down below till we're clear off. You are no use on deck. Only have your toes tramped."

Harry opened his mouth to speak.