Mother Carey's Chicken Part 8

"I think we'd better have the dog down again," said Mr Gregory at last, his voice sounding strange from deep among the cargo. "Stop a moment, my lads. Silence, and pa.s.s me a lanthorn."

At the sound of his voice Bruff uttered a whine, and Mark had to hold tight by his collar to keep him back.

Directly after, as the lad looked down he could see the mate tap once more upon a case in the curious-looking hollow.

"Now, then," he shouted, "where are you?"

There was a silence that was painful in its intensity, and then plainly heard came a faint groan.

"Hooray, my lads! he's here, and alive yet," cried the mate, and the men set up a hearty cheer. "Steady, steady! He's close here. Let's have out this case next."

"No, no," cried the second-mate; "I see."

"See what?" said Mr Gregory gruffly.

"Ease off that bale a little, and we can draw him out."

"Draw him out! How? Well, of all! Of course!"

A lanthorn was being held to the side beneath Mark, and, staring over, he, too, grasped the position, which was plain enough now to all.

The case which the mate proposed to remove was one of the great deal chests with the top angle cut right off and used to pack pianos, and in the triangular s.p.a.ce nearly six feet long between the case and the chests around the unfortunate man had crept, taking it for granted that he would be able to creep out again forward or backward after the ship had sailed.

The easing away of one package was enough now, and as the light was held, the legs of the prisoner were seen, and he was carefully drawn out. A rope was placed round his chest, and he was hauled out of the great chasm and hoisted carefully on deck, followed by the whole crew of workers, who formed a circle about him, as the first-mate went down on one knee and trickled a little brandy between his teeth.

"Shall I send one of the lads for a doctor?" said Mr Morgan.

"Wait a minute," was the first-mate's answer. "He was not suffocating, as you can see. It was sheer fright, I think. He'll come round in a few minutes out here in the fresh air."

The second-mate held down the light, and as Mark, for whom room had been made, gazed down in the ghastly face of the shabby-looking man, Bruff pushed his head forward and sniffed at him.

"Yes, that's him, old fellow," said the mate patting his head. "You are a good dog, then."

Bruff whined, and just then the prostrate stowaway moved slightly.

"There, he's coming to; give him a little more brandy, Gregory," said the second-mate.

"Not a drop," cried the other fiercely. "Yes, he's coming round now. I think I'll finish off with the rope's end--a scoundrel!"

A minute before, in spite of his rough ways, Mark had begun to feel somewhat of a liking for the first-mate, especially as he had taken to the dog; but now all this was swept away.

"Oh, yes, he's coming to," said Mr Gregory, as the man's eyelids were seen to tremble in the light of the lanthorn, and then open widely in a vacant stare.

"Where--where am I?" he said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper; and then he uttered a wild cry and started up in a sitting position, for Bruff had touched his cheek with his cold nose.

"Where are you! On the deck of the _Black Petrel_, my lad, and you're just going to have that dirty shirt stripped off your back, ready for a good rope's-ending."

"No, no! no, no!" cried the poor wretch, grovelling at the first-mate's feet, and looking up at him appealingly.

This was too much for Bruff, who set up a fierce bark, and seeing his new friend apparently attacked he would have seized the crouching man had not Mark dropped down and seized his collar.

"Not do it, eh! You scoundrel! what do you mean by this hiding down in that hold and giving us hours of work to get out your wretched carca.s.s, eh?"

"Please, sir--forgive me, sir. Let me off this time, sir."

"Kick the poor wretch out of the ship and let him go," said the second-mate in a low voice.

"Let him go! Not I. I'm going to flog him and then hand him over to the police."

"Ay, ay," rose in chorus from the men, who, now that they had with all respect to humanity saved the interloper's life, were quite ready to see him punished for his wrong-doing, and the trouble and extra labour he had caused.

"There, you idle vagabond, you hear what the jury of your own countrymen say."

"Let me off this time, sir. I was nearly killed down there."

"Nearly killed, you scoundrel! Serve you right; trying to steal a pa.s.sage and food from the owner of this ship. How dare you do it?"

"I--I wanted to go abroad so badly, sir," said the shivering wretch.

"I'd no money, and no friends."

"I should think not indeed. Who'd make a friend, do you think, of you?"

"n.o.body, sir. I did try lots of captains to take me as a sailor, but no one would."

"Why, of course they wouldn't, you scoundrel!" stormed the first-mate.

"Can you reef and splice and take your turn at the wheel?"

"No, sir," whimpered the man.

"Can you go aloft without tumbling down and breaking somebody's head instead of your own idle neck? Could you lay out on the foretop yard?"

"No, sir, but--but I'd try, sir, I would indeed, if you'd let me."

"Let the poor wretch go, Gregory," whispered the second-mate.

"Sha'n't!" snapped the first-mate; and as he raged and stormed Mark felt more than ever that this was the real captain of the ship, and that his father must occupy a very secondary position.

"I would work so hard," said the poor fellow piteously. "I only want to get into another country and try again."

"At our owner's expense, eh? Do you think the crew here want you?"

"No, no," rose in chorus; and Mark's heart gave a leap of sympathy, and anger against the men.

"There, you hear, you idle, cheating vagabond. Where did you want to go?"

"Anywhere, sir, anywhere. Do let me go!"

"Yes, to the police station. You'll have to answer for all this."