The Little Skipper Part 3

"Did I? Ay! so I did. It wasn't 'Avast'; it were 'Belay there! Don't do that,' they says. And then the boys said, just as you did, 'It was only my fun.' And then the frogs says: 'Ha!' they says, 'what's fun to you means stones come aboard and sinkin' us, and sendin' on us to the bottom.'"

"That they didn't!" cried the boy archly.

"Well, I don't say it was them werry words, but what they says meant it, and here you will come bringing your fun, as you calls it, on deck, and hurtin' your pretty little sister; and you calls yourself a man."

"I don't," said the boy. "I said I'd try _and act like a man_."

"Then why don't yer hack like a man?" cried the sailor. "You're a-gettin' on: some o' these days you'll be skipper of a big craft o'

your own, and you promised I should be your bo'sun; and here you goes and hacks like that. Why! big as I am, I wouldn't go an' hurt a little thing like this, for a golden king's crown.--Would I, my pretty?"

"No, 'Jack,'" said Dot seriously; "I'm sure you wouldn't. And it's very cruel of Bob."

"That's right, my dear; so it is; and I just tell him if he don't stick to his word like a young gent should, him and me ain't going to be messmates no more."

The Skipper's conscience was very busy again, but, he wouldn't show his trouble, and, he tried to turn it off by saying rapidly--

"Won't do so any more--won't do so any more," three times.

"Don't sound to me as if you was sorry," growled the man. "I heered what your father says to you, and he knows, and he's the finest gentleman in all Her Majesty's Service. On'y wish I'd got such a father."

"What nonsense, 'Jack'!" cried the Skipper; "why! you're too big, isn't he, Dot?"

"Yes," said the girl, "he does seem to be very big to have a father."

"Well, I ain't a wery little un, am I, my pretty?" said the sailor, chuckling. "But, you allus mind, and do what your father tells you, Master Bob."

"Oh! do go on with the ship," cried the Skipper impatiently. "But, I say, did you always do what your father told you, 'Jack'?"

"Nay, that I didn't, and wery sorry I am," said the big fellow, shaking his head. "That's the wust on it; we gets to be sorry for things when it's too late; and I'm wery much afeard, Master Bob, as this here gun'll make the 'Flash' a bit crank."

"What's crank?" asked the boy.

"What you sh.o.r.e-going folks calls top-heavy; and that either means cutting down her rigging----"

"No, I won't have the rigging touched," cried Bob.

"Well, it would be a mortal shame, seeing how she sails, but you wouldn't like her to capsize."

"No; of course not."

"Then, I tell you what: you must put some little bags o' shot in her hold, to act as ballast, and then she'll be all right."

Then, apparently satisfied with the boy's promise of amendment, "Jack Robinson," otherwise Tom Jeffs, worked away at the model, till the gun was fixed amidships, and the anchor swung to her bows, the cable having been knotted on, and the neatly coiled rings placed inside a little hatch in front.

All this being finished, as a man-of-war's man does such things, the Skipper sprang down from the table. "Now, 'Jack,' come along!" he cried; "let's see how she'll sail." But, just then tea-time was announced, and in spite of a loud "_Oh!_" full of disappointment, the big sailor had to go into the kitchen and have his tea, the children's evening meal being ready too; and directly after, they were summoned to say good-bye to the c.o.xswain, who had to go back. The Captain and Mrs.

Trevor were in the hall when the former nodded shortly to his man, and went into the drawing-room, while the Skipper saw his mother slip something, that looked like a yellow sixpence, into the man's big hand.

"Good-bye, and thank you, Jeffs," she said hurriedly, and her voice sounded broken. "I pray that you may have a good voyage."

"Then we shall, ma'am, and bless and thank you, but there ain't no need for this."

"For all you have done for my children," said Bob's mother.

"For that, ma'am! Why, it's been holidays and holidays to come up here, and bless 'em too.--May I, ma'am?"

"Yes, please do," cried Mrs. Trevor, in a choking voice, and the man caught up Dot.

"Good-bye, my little dymond," he cried huskily.

"Good-bye, 'Jack.' Come and see us again soon," cried Dot, responding to his kiss, and tickling her little pinky nose with "Jack's" whiskers, for it was like kissing some loose cocoa-nut fibre.

"Good-bye, Master Robert," the man continued; and the Skipper shook hands with him, like a man.

"Good-bye, 'Jack': when are you coming again?"

The sailor looked at him with a peculiar expression of countenance, and was silent for a few moments.

"Next time," he said huskily, and, making a rough bow, he caught up a small portmanteau standing ready, and hurried out of the house, while the Skipper's mother bit her lower lip, hard, as she turned away, to hide her swimming eyes.

"What's Mamma crying for?" asked Dot.

"She wasn't crying," said the Skipper gloomily, but, he felt she was ready to do so, and he turned to go into the drawing-room, after opening the door a little way, feeling all the while that his mother's looks were all on account of his behaviour.

Just then the boy stood perfectly still, for there was a burst of pitiable sobs, and he heard his mother say, in answer to some whispered words of the Captain's--"I do try, dear, but it seems so hard, so very hard."

CHAPTER IV.

The next morning at breakfast the Skipper noticed that his mother looked as if she had been crying again, and the sight came like a chill over the boy.

"But she isn't very angry with me," he thought the next moment, for she kissed him eagerly. "It's only because she's sorry. I'm never going to make her unhappy again, though," he thought, as he went on to shake hands with his father.

"Morning, Bob," said the Captain, pressing his boy's hand hard, and then turning to Dot, whom he jumped up so as to kiss her lovingly.

That was a very dull breakfast, for the sad looks of Captain and Mrs.

Trevor had their effect upon the young folks, who were glad to escape, at last, to their own room, where they stayed till about ten o'clock, when Mrs. Trevor came suddenly in, looking very pale.

"Come, my darlings," she said; "your poor father wants to see you."

She caught Dot's hand in hers and led her through the door, leaving poor Bob half stunned; for his mother seemed so strange to him, and he could not get the idea out of his head that this was all something to do with yesterday's trouble; but he could not find the words to ask, and so followed into the drawing-room, where Captain Trevor was looking very hard and stern, as he held out his hands to Dot, catching her in his arms and kissing her in a way that startled her.

Then taking out his watch, he glanced at it and thrust it back in his pocket, drawing himself up directly after, and looking harder than ever. His voice sounded strange too, as, without even glancing at his son, he said sharply:

"I have driven it too long. There is not a minute if I am to catch this train. Duty, my own. For pity's sake be firm, or you will unman me."

Bob saw his mother draw herself up, press her lips together, and knit her brows, as she nodded her head at her husband and took Dot, who looked frightened, from his arms.