The Flag of Distress Part 20

"Because we can help you to something a little better. At least, it will be more to your advantage in a pecuniary sense. You wouldn't mind shipping in a merchant-vessel, with wages three or four times as much as you can get in a man-of-war? How would you like that, Harry?"

"I'd like it amazin'ly, sir. And for the matter o' being a merchanter, that's neither here nor there, so long's _you_ recommend it. I'll go as cook, if you tell me to."

"No, no, Harry, not that," laughingly replies the young officer. "That would never do. I should pity those who had to eat the dishes you'd dress for them. Besides, I should be sorry to see you stewing your strength away in front of a galley-fire. You must do better than that; and it chances I'm authorised to offer you something better. It's a berth on board a trading-ship, and one with some special advantages.

She's a Chilian vessel, and her captain is, I believe, either Chilian or Spanish. That won't make any difference to you?"

"Not a doit, sir. I don't care what the ship's colours be, nor what country her skipper, so long's he allows good wages an' plenty o' grub."

"And plenty of grog too, Harry?"

"Ay, ay, sir. I confess to a weakness for that--leastways the reg'lar three times a day."

"No doubt you'll get it, as often as you've a mind. But, Harry, I have a word to say about that. Besides my interest in your own welfare, I've another and more selfish one in this Chilian ship. So has Mr Cadwallader. We both want you to be on your best behaviour during the trip you're to take in her. On board will be two lady pa.s.sengers, as far as Panama; for the ship is bound thither, and for ports beyond--I believe as far as Valparaiso. But the ladies are to land at Panama; and, so long as they're with you, you must do everything in your power to make things agreeable for them. If they should ever be in any danger--from storm, shipwreck, or otherwise--you'll stand by them?"

"Yes, Harry," adds Cadwallader, "you'll do that, won't you?"

"Lor', your honours!" exclaims the sailor, showing surprise. "Sure ye needn't put sich a questin to me--a British man-o'-war's man? I'd do that much, anyhow, out o' sheer starn sense o' duty. But when it comes to takin' care o' two ladies--to say nothin' about theer bein' so young, and so beautiful--"

"Avast, Harry! How do you know they are either one or the other?" asks Crozier, surprised; Cadwallader repeating the question.

"Lor' love ye, masters! Do ye think a common sailor han't got eyes in his head, for anythin' but ropes an' tar? You forget I war o' the boat's crew as rowed two sweet creeturs on board the _Crusader_, the night o' the grand dancin'; and arterward took the same ash.o.r.e, along wi' two young gen'lemen, as went to see 'em home. Sure, sirs, actin'

c.o.x on that occasion, I couldn't help hearin' some o' the speeches as pa.s.sed in the starn-sheets--tho' they wur spoken in the ears of the senoritas, soft as the breeze that fanned their fair cheeks, an' brought the colour out on 'em red as Ribston pippins."

"Avast again, you rascal! So you've been eavesdropping, have you? I quite forgot you understood Spanish."

"Only a trifle, Master Ed'ard."

"Too much for that occasion."

"Ah! well, your honour, it may stand me in good stead now--aboard the ship you speak o'."

"Well, Harry, I'm not going to scold you, seeing that you couldn't help hearing what you did. And now, I may as well tell you that the young ladies you saw that night in the boat _are_ the same who are to be the pa.s.sengers in the Chilian ship. You'll take good care of them, I know."

"That you may depend on, sir. Any one as touches hair o' their heads, to do 'em an injury, 'll have to tear the whole o' his off the head o'

Harry Blew. I'll see 'em safe to Panama, or never show myself there. I promise that; an' I think both your honours 'll take the word of a British man-o'-war's man."

"That's enough--perfectly satisfactory! Now to give you the necessary directions about joining this ship. She's lying at anchor somewhere about in the bay. I didn't think of getting her name, but you'll find her easily enough. An' you needn't go in search of her till you've seen the gentleman whose name is upon this card. You see: 'Don Tomas Silvestre,' a ship-agent. His office is down in one of the streets by the strand. Report yourself to him first thing in the morning. In all likelihood he'll engage you on sight, make out your papers, and give you full directions for getting aboard the ship. It appears she's short of hands; indeed, even without a single sailor. _And_, by the way, Harry, if you apply soon enough, it's good as certain you'll be made mate-- first at that; all the more from your being able to speak Spanish. It's too late for you to do anything about it to-night; but don't oversleep yourself. Be at the ship-agent's to-morrow betimes."

"Ye can trust me for that, sir. I'll show my figurehead there first thing in the mornin'. No fears o' any one getting theer afore me, if they've not gone a'ready."

"I think no one will be before you--I hope not. Send us word how you have succeeded, as the _Crusader_ will likely be in port long enough for us to hear from you. Still, as she may sail on short notice, we may not see you again. Remember, then, what we've said about the senoritas. We shall rely upon your fidelity."

"An' well may ye, masters. You can both trust your lives to Harry Blew, an' those of them as is dear to you."

"All right, old boy!" exclaims Crozier, satisfied. "We must now part; but let's hope we'll meet again. When you get back to England you know where to find me. So, good-bye! Give us a grip of your honest fist, and G.o.d bless you!"

Saying this, he grasps the h.o.r.n.y hand of the sailor, and warmly presses it. The pressure is returned by a squeeze that gives a.s.surance of more than ordinary friendship. It is the grip of true grat.i.tude; and the look which accompanies it tells of a devoted friendship, bordering on adoration.

Cadwallader also exchanges a like parting salutation; after which, the young officers start off, to continue their cruise through the streets of "Frisko."

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

AN INHOSPITABLE HOSTELRY.

Harry Blew stands in the doorway of the "Sailor's Home," watching the two gentlemen as they walk away, his eyes glowing with grat.i.tude and sparkling with joy. And no wonder, considering the change in his situation brought about by their influence. Ten minutes before, his spirits were at the lowest and darkest. But the prospect of treble, or quadruple pay on board a snug ship, though it be a trading-vessel, with the additional chance of being mate instead of foremast-man, has given him a fillip, not only restoring them to their ordinary condition of cheeriness, but raising them to the highest exaltation.

The only damper is regret at parting with the fine young fellow who has done so much for him. But he has pa.s.sed through that already, when separating from his ship, and can now better bear it under the reflection that, though apart from his patron, he will have an opportunity of doing something to show his grat.i.tude. He knows how much Crozier is interested in the wellbeing of Carmen Montijo--for Harry has been made acquainted with her name, as also that of Inez Alvarez--and to be entrusted with a sort of guardianship over these young ladies is a proud thought to the ex-man-o'-war's man--a fine feather in his cap.

To carry out the confidence thus reposed in him will be a labour of love; and he vows in his heart it shall be done, if need be, at the risk of life.

Indeed, the interview just ended has made a new man of him in more senses than one; for upon the spot he registers a mental resolve to give up dram-drinking for ever, or at all events till he has seen his charge--the two Spanish senoritas--safe landed at Panama, and the Chilian ship snug in the harbour of Valparaiso. After that, he is less sure that he may not again go upon a spree, and possibly a big one.

Heaving a sigh as the English officers pa.s.s out of sight, he turns back into the bar-room. It is no longer a question of his going aboard the _Crusader_. He must remain ash.o.r.e, to be up betimes in the morning, so that he may be early at the office of the ship-agent.

And now, again, a shadow, though only a slight one, comes over his countenance. He has still before him the undetermined question, where he is to sleep. Notwithstanding his fine prospects for the future, the present is still unchanged, and yet unprovided for.

Unfortunately, he did not think of this while the officers were with him, else a word would have made all well. Either of them, he doubted not, would have relieved his necessities had they been but told of them.

Too late now; they are gone out of sight, out of hail, and whether he cannot tell or guess; and to attempt searching for them in such crowded streets would be only a waste of time.

While thus ruefully reflecting, he is confronted by the bar-keeper, whose usually grave countenance is now beset with smiles. The fellow has got it into his head that his sailor-guest is no longer impecunious.

The navy gentlemen just gone have no doubt been to engage him for their ship, and perhaps made him an advance of wages.

"Well, my salt," says he, in a tone of jocular familiarity, "I guess you've got the shiners now, an' kin settle up your score?"

"No, indeed, sir," answers Harry, more than ever taken aback; "I'm sorry to say I ha'n't."

"You hain't! Then what hev them gold-b.u.t.toned fellers been palaverin'

ye about?"

"Not about money, master. Them's two o' the officers belongin' to my old ship--the British frigate _Crusader_. An' fine young fellows they be too."

"Much good their finikin fineness seems to hev done you! So they hain't gin you nuthin' better than their talk, hev they? Nuthin' besides?"

"Nothing besides," rejoins Blew, restraining his temper, a little touched by the bar-keeper's inquisitiveness, as also his impertinent manner.

"Nuthin' but fine words, eh? Well, thar's plenty o' them 'bout hyar, but they won't b.u.t.ter no parsnips; and let me tell you, my sailor-man, they won't pay your board bill."

"I know that," returns the other, still keeping his temper. "But I hope to have money soon."

"Oh! that's been your story for the last two days; but it won't bamboozle me any longer. You get no more credit here."

"Can't I have supper, and bed for another night?"

"No; that you can't--not so much as a shake-down."

"I'll pay for them first thing in the mornin'."