Sail Ho! Part 62

"Yes; but not strong enough to be risky," said Mr Frewen; and he signed to me to go with him to his cabin, where he opened his medicine-chest, and after a little thought, carefully weighed out, from a stoppered bottle, an absurdly small portion of a whitish powder and placed it in a square of white paper.

"There," he said, "take that to Mr Brymer, and tell him to give it a good stir round, or we shall be killing some of the scoundrels, and letting others off scot free."

"Yes," I said, looking with no little interest at the powder which he had turned out of the tiny scales he had used. "The cook is sure to stir it well too. But, Mr Frewen, will that little pinch or two of stuff be enough?"

"Plenty," he said. "It is as far as I dare go, for it is most potent."

"And it will send them off to sleep?"

"Into a sleep so deep that it would be impossible to awaken them for some hours."

"Ugh!" I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as I took the little packet and thrust it into my pocket. "I hope, if ever you give me any physic, you'll be careful not to give me any out of the wrong bottle."

"I'll take care," he said. "Mind you warn Mr Brymer to be very careful too."

I nodded and went out of the cabin, took a turn along the deck to see that the men were keeping watch by the forecastle-hatch, and then turned in at the galley to say a word or two to the cook, asking him what we were to have for our dinner. I went straight back to where Mr Brymer was down in the captain's store-room with a lantern, by whose light I could see before me two of the large well-known drum-shaped tins of portable soup.

"Got it?" he said in a whisper.

I handed him the packet without a word.

"Look here," he said. "There are two kinds, with blue label and yellow label. You see I shall put the stuff in the yellow labelled tin."

"Yes, I see," I replied; and he opened the packet, shook out the contents, so that it lay spread on the top of the brown-looking gluey meat essence, and then stirred it well round with a knife, till it could not help being well mixed.

"There, we must chance that," he whispered, "but it seems a very small dose."

"Mr Frewen said it was wonderfully strong," I said.

"Well, we must hope so. Take the tins. You will not make any mistake?"

"Oh no, I'll take care," I said. "The yellow one for the men, the blue for us; but you don't catch me touching it."

"Nor me, Dale," he said, with a nod. "And look here, I shan't open this, but here's a big tin of kangaroo-tail; give him that too for warming up for our dinner."

I went away pretty well loaded, and walked to the galley.

"Here," I said, trying to speak merrily, but it was all forced, for I felt exceedingly nervous. "I was asking you just now what was for dinner. Here you are--kangaroo-tail for our dinner, and that soup in the blue tin; and you're to put plenty of water to this other one, and make a half-bucket-full of soup for the men in the forecastle. How soon will it be ready?"

"Five minutes. I've plenty of boiling water. Who opened them?"

"We did," I replied. "They are all right, but some of the tins are going bad."

"Yes; I've had some I was glad to pitch overboard, sir, and if I had my way I'd make the folks as sells such rubbish for poor sailors eat it themselves."

"And serve 'em right. You understand you're to keep this one for us, and get ready the yellow tin?"

"All right, Mr Dale."

"Hulloa, cookie, what's for dinner?" said the man who had just been relieved from taking his trick at the wheel. "Oh!--didn't know you were here, sir."

"Chump end of a hurdy-gurdy and organ sauce, messmate," said the cook, meaning to be very facetious, while I walked out of the galley, pa.s.sing the man who had been sitting aft talking to the steersman.

I reported the progress of what I had done to Mr Brymer, and then waited for further orders.

"I think I'll stand out of this business altogether now, Dale," he said.

"Wait a few minutes and then take one of the men, say Dumlow, and serve out the stuff to them, pa.s.sing down a fresh supply of biscuits as well.

What's the matter?"

I flushed up.

"I--I don't quite like doing it, Mr Brymer," I said.

He looked at me angrily, but his face softened directly.

"No," he said, "it is not a pleasant task. It seems treacherous and cruel, but I cannot show myself in the matter. They might turn suspicious. Some one in authority must go, and it is a work of sheer necessity. You will have to go, Dale."

"Yes, sir, I'll go," I said firmly. "I don't like it, but I know it is right."

"Go on then, my lad, and carry it through for all our sakes. Be careful that the man with you does not touch it."

I nodded, and the time being near, I thrust my hands into my pockets, and began to whistle as I walked forward, pa.s.sed the galley, and I was about to speak to Dumlow, who was on the watch, when a voice came out of the hatchway sounding smothered but unmistakable as Jarette's.

"Now then, you sirs. Are there to be any rations served out, or are we to set fire to the ship?"

"Can't you wait a few minutes?" I said, trying to speak coolly as I saw the two men who had been by the wheel smoking their pipes near the galley and looking on.

"Minutes, you whipper-snapper!" he snarled; "we've been waiting hours."

"If you're not civil I'll tell the cook to keep the soup back for an hour."

"Soup? What soup?" he cried.

"Soup the cook's getting ready; Dumlow, go and get the biscuit-bag."

Jarette uttered a grunt, and there was a buzz of voices from below whose tones plainly enough told of eager expectation, for they had been pretty well starved since they had been shut down in the cabin.

Dumlow fetched the bag of biscuits, and with the men watching me I prepared to go forward.

"Better let me do it, sir," growled Bob Hampton; "they may shoot."

"No, I don't think they will," I said quietly, as I looked aft to see that my friends were, like the men hard by, watching me, and Barney Blane right aft at the wheel. "Look here, below there," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, for I felt horribly nervous, and could not help thinking that if anything went wrong the mutineers would visit what had been done on me.

"Look here, you, I'm going to serve out biscuits and soup. I shall hand the tins down through the hole in the hatch. Fair play. No pistols now."

"Let's have the soup, and don't chatter, boy," said Jarette, sharply, and just then the cook came out smiling with a bucket nearly full of steaming, fragrant-smelling soup, and the man who had been by the wheel came behind him carrying a dozen tin mugs whose handles were strung on a piece of rope.

"Here we are!" I said, strung up now to get the miserable business over as quickly as I could, and just then the cook set the bucket down on the deck, and began to stir it with a big iron ladle.