The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 30

The man doubled his fist, and made a sharp blow at Jem, and seemed surprised at the result; for Jem dodged, and retorted, planting his fist in the fellow's chest, and sending him staggering back.

The man's eyes blazed as he recovered himself, and rushed at Jem like a bull-dog.

Obeying his first impulse, Don, who had never struck a blow in anger since he left school, forgot fair play for the moment, and doubled his fists to help Jem.

"No, no, Mas' Don; I can tackle him," cried Jem; "and I feel as if I should like to now."

But there was to be no encounter, for a couple of the other sailors seized their messmate, and forced him to the trap-door, growling and threatening all manner of evil to the st.u.r.dy little prisoner, who was standing on his defence.

"No, no, mate," said the biggest and strongest of the party; "it's like hitting a man as is down. Come on."

There was another struggle, but the brute was half thrust to the ladder, and directly after the trap was closed again, and the bolt shot.

"Well, I never felt so much like fighting before--leastwise not since I thrashed old Mike behind the barrel stack in the yard," said Jem, resuming his coat, which he had thrown off.

"Did you fight Mike in the yard one day?" said Don wonderingly. "Why, Jem, I remember; that's when you had such a dreadful black eye."

"That's right, my lad."

"And pretended you fell down the ladder out of floor number six."

"That's right again, Mas' Don," said Jem, grinning.

"Then that was a lie?"

"Well, I don't know 'bout it's being a lie, my lad. P'r'aps you might call it a kind of a sort of a fib."

"Fib? It was an untruth."

"Well, but don't you see, it would have looked so bad to say, 'I got that eye a-fighting?' and it was only a little while 'fore I was married. What would my Sally ha' said if she know'd I fought our Mike?"

"Why, of course; I remember now, Mike was ill in bed for a week at the same time."

"That's so, Mas' Don," said Jem, chuckling; "and he was werry ill. You see, he come to the yard to work, after you'd begged him on, and he was drunk as a fiddler--not as ever I see a fiddler that way. And then, i'stead o' doing his work, he was nasty, and began cussing. He cussed everything, from the barrow and truck right up to your uncle, whose money he took, and then he began cussing o' you, Mas' Don; and I told him he ought to be ashamed of hisself for cussing the young gent as got him work; and no sooner had I said that than I found myself sitting in a puddle, with my nose bleeding."

"Well?" said Don, who was deeply interested.

"Well, Mas' Don, that's all."

"No, it isn't, Jem; you say you fought Mike."

"Well, I s'pose I did, Mas' Don."

"'Suppose you did'?"

"Yes; I only recklect feeling wild because my clean shirt and necktie was all in a mess. I don't recklect any more--only washing my sore knuckles at the pump, and holding a half hun'erd weight up again my eye."

"But Mike stopped away from work for a week."

"Yes, Mas' Don. He got hisself a good deal hurt somehow."

"You mean you hurt him?"

"Dunno, Mas' Don. S'pose I did, but I don't 'member nothing about it.

And now look here, sir; seems to me that in half-hour's time it'll be quite dark enough to start; and if I'd got five guineas, I'd give 'em for five big screws, and the use of a gimlet and driver."

"What for?"

"To fasten down that there trap."

"It would be no good, Jem; because if they found the trap fast, they'd be on the watch for us outside."

"Dessay you're right, sir. Well, what do you say? Shall we begin now, or wait?"

Don looked up at the fast darkening skylight, and then, after a moment's hesitation,--

"Let's begin now, Jem. It will take some time."

"That's right, Mas' Don; so here goes, and good luck to us. It means home, and your mother, and my Sally; or going to fight the French."

"And we don't want to be obliged to fight without we like, Jem."

"That's true," said Jem; and going quickly to the trap, he laid his ear to the crack and listened.

"All right, my lad. Have it out," he said; and the sacks were cast aside, and the rope withdrawn. "Will it bear us, Jem?"

"I'm going to try first, and if it'll bear me it'll bear you."

"But you can't get up there."

"No, but you can, my lad; and when you're there you can fasten the rope to that cross-bar, and then I can soon be with you. Ready?"

"Wait till I've got off my shoes."

"That's right; stick 'em in your pockets, my lad. Now then, ready?"

Don signified his readiness. Jem laid him a back up at the end wall.

Don mounted, and then jumped down again.

"What's the matter?"

"I haven't got the rope."

"My: what a head I have!" cried Jem, as Don tightly knotted the rope about his waist; and then, mounting on his companion's back once more, was borne very slowly, steadying himself by the sloping roof, till the window was reached.

"Hold fast, Jem."

"Right it is, my lad."