Many Cargoes Part 47

"He was in that fit ten minutes, an' he was no sooner out o' that one than he was in another. In twenty-four hours he had six full-sized fits, and I'll allow I was fairly puzzled. What pleasure he could find in tumbling down hard and stiff an' kicking at everybody an' everything I couldn't see. He'd be standing quiet and peaceable like one minute, and the next he'd catch hold o' the nearest thing to him and have a bad fit, and lie on his back and kick us while we was trying to force open his hands to pat 'em.

"The other chaps said the skipper's insult had turned his brain, but I wasn't quite so soft, an' one time when he was alone I put it to him.

"'Joe, old man,' I ses, 'you an' me's been very good pals.'

"'Ay, ay,' ses he, suspicious like.

"'Joe,' I whispers, 'what's yer little game?'

"'Wodyermean?' ses he, very short.

"'I mean the fits,' ses I, looking at 'im very steady, 'It's no good looking hinnercent like that, 'cos I see yer chewing soap with my own eyes.'

"'Soap,' ses Joe, in a nasty sneering way, 'you wouldn't reckernise a piece if you saw it.'

"Arter that I could see there was nothing to be got out of 'im, an' I just kept my eyes open and watched. The skipper didn't worry about his fits, 'cept that he said he wasn't to let the sarpint see his face when he was in 'em for fear of scaring it; an' when the mate wanted to leave him out o' the watch, he ses, 'No, he might as well have fits while at work as well as anywhere else.'

"We were about twenty-four hours from port, an' the sarpint was still following us; and at six o'clock in the evening the officers puffected all their arrangements for ketching the creetur at eight o'clock next morning. To make quite sure of it an extra watch was kept on deck all night to chuck it food every half-hour; an' when I turned in at ten o'clock that night it was so close I could have reached it with a clothes-prop.

"I think I'd been abed about 'arf-an-hour when I was awoke by the most infernal row I ever heard. The foghorn was going incessantly, an' there was a lot o' shouting and running about on deck. It struck us all as 'ow the sarpint was gitting tired o' bread, and was misbehaving himself, consequently we just shoved our 'eds out o' the fore-scuttle and listened. All the hullaballoo seemed to be on the bridge, an' as we didn't see the sarpint there we plucked up courage and went on deck.

"Then we saw what had happened. Joe had 'ad another fit while at the wheel, and, NOT KNOWING WHAT HE WAS DOING, had clutched the line of the foghorn, and was holding on to it like grim death, and kicking right and left. The skipper was in his bedclothes, raving worse than Joe; and just as we got there Joe came round a bit, and, letting go o' the line, asked in a faint voice what the foghorn was blowing for. I thought the skipper 'ud have killed him; but the second mate held him back, an', of course, when things quieted down a bit, an' we went to the side, we found the sea-sarpint had vanished.

"We stayed there all that night, but it warn't no use. When day broke there wasn't the slightest trace of it, an' I think the men was as sorry to lose it as the officers. All 'cept Joe, that is, which shows how people should never be rude, even to the humblest; for I'm sartin that if the skipper hadn't hurt his feelings the way he did we should now know as much about the sea-sarpint as we do about our own brothers."

MRS. BUNKER'S CHAPERON

Matilda stood at the open door of a house attached to a wharf situated in that dreary district which bears the high-sounding name of "St.

Katharine's."

Work was over for the day. A couple of unhorsed vans were pushed up the gangway by the side of the house, and the big gate was closed. The untidy office which occupied the ground-floor was deserted, except for a grey-bearded "housemaid" of sixty, who was sweeping it through with a broom, and indulging in a few sailorly oaths at the choking qualities of the dust he was raising.

The sound of advancing footsteps stopped at the gate, a small flap-door let in it flew open, and Matilda Bunker's open countenance took a pinkish hue, as a small man in jersey and blue coat, with a hard round hat exceeding high in the crown, stepped inside.

"Good evening, Mrs. Bunker, ma'am," said he, coming slowly up to her.

"Good evening, captain," said the lady, who was Mrs. only by virtue of her age and presence.

"Fresh breeze," said the man in the high round hat. "If this lasts we'll be in Ipswich in no time."

Mrs. Bunker a.s.sented.

"Beautiful the river is at present," continued the captain. "Everything growing splendid."

"In the river?" asked the mystified Mrs. Bunker.

"On the banks," said the captain; "the trees, by Sheppey, and all round there. Now, why don't you say the word, and come? There's a cabin like a new pin ready for you to sit in-for cleanness, I mean-and every accommodation you could require. Sleep like a humming-top you will, if you come."

"Humming-top?" queried Mrs. Bunker archly.

"Any top," said the captain. "Come, make up your mind. We shan't sail afore nine."

"It don't look right," said the lady, who was sorely tempted. "But the missus says I may go if I like, so I'll just go and get my box ready.

I'll be down on the jetty at nine."

"Ay, ay," said the skipper, smiling, "me and Bill'll just have a snooze till then. So long."

"So long," said Matilda.

"So long," repeated the amorous skipper, and turning round to bestow another ardent glance upon the fair one at the door, crashed into the waggon.

The neighbouring clocks were just striking nine in a sort of yelping chorus to the heavy boom of Big Ben, which came floating down the river, as Mrs. Bunker and the night watchman, staggering under a load of luggage, slowly made their way on to the jetty. The barge, for such was the craft in question, was almost level with the planks, while the figures of two men darted to and fro in all the bustle of getting under way.

"Bill," said the watchman, addressing the mate, "bear a hand with this box, and be careful, it's got the wedding clothes inside."

The watchman was so particularly pleased with this little joke that in place of giving the box to Bill he put it down and sat on it, shaking convulsively with his hand over his mouth, while the blushing Matilda and the discomfited captain strove in vain to appear unconcerned.

The packages were rather a tight squeeze for the cabin, but they managed to get them in, and the skipper, with a threatening look at his mate, who was exchanging glances of exquisite humour with the watchman, gave his hand to Mrs. Bunker and helped her aboard.

"Welcome on the Sir Edmund Lyons, Mrs. Bunker," said he. "Bill, kick that dawg back."

"Stop!" said Mrs. Bunker hastily, "that's my chapperong."

"Your what?" said the skipper. "It's a dawg, Mrs. Bunker, an' I won't have no dawgs aboard my craft."

"Bill," said Mrs. Bunker, "fetch my box up again."

"Leastways," the captain hastened to add, "unless it's any friend of yours, Mrs. Bunker."

"It's chaperoning me," said Matilda; "it wouldn't be proper for a lady to go a v'y'ge with two men without somebody to look after her."

"That's right, Sam," said the watchman sententiously. "You ought to know that at your age."

"Why, we're looking after her," said the simple-minded captain. "Me an'

Bill."

"Take care Bill don't cut you out," said the watchman in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, distinctly audible to all. "He's younger nor what you are, Sam, an' the wimmen are just crazy arter young men. 'Sides which, he's a finer man altogether. An' you've had ONE wife a'ready, Sam."

"Cast off!" said the skipper impatiently. "Cast off! Stand by there, Bill!"

"Ay, ay!" said Bill, seizing a boat-hook, and the lines fell into the water with a splash as the barge was pushed out into the tide.