The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 19

"They were all put just as you gave orders, uncle."

"Yes; but I want to test the spirits all the same. Here, we may as well go on board at once."

"Very well," cried the boy eagerly. "Is there any little thing we can take with us?"

"No, my boy. As far as I am concerned, I think I can say everything is ready."

It was not long before the doctor and his nephew were down at the landing-place and being rowed across the harbour to where a beautifully trim full-sized schooner lay moored to one of the great buoys; and on coming alongside they were hailed by Captain Chubb, whose face seemed to shine with animation as he helped his chief on board.

"Morning, sir!" he cried. "I was just wishing that you would come on board."

"Bah!" exclaimed Uncle Paul. "What wants doing now?"

"Nothing. Not as I know of."

"Oh, are you sure?" said Uncle Paul sarcastically, "Sartin, unless you have got some more bottles or cranky tackle to be stowed away, sir."

"Oh, indeed," said Uncle Paul shortly. "You don't mean to say you have done at last?"

"Me, sir? Why, I was ready six months ago, only you had always got some new scheme you wanted fitted in."

"Ah, well, never mind about that now," cried Uncle Paul. "Then we may set sail any day?"

"'Cept Friday, sir. The men wouldn't like that. To-night if you like."

"Ah, well, we won't go to-night," said the doctor.

"Only give your orders, sir," said the captain shortly. "Like to take a look round now? Fresh provisions are all on board."

"Oh no," said Uncle Paul, "I know it all by heart."

"Looks a beauty now, don't she, sir?"

"Oh yes, she looks very well. Here, Rodd, come down with me into the work-room."

The doctor strode off aft at once, the captain following slowly with the boy; and as their chief descended the cabin stairs Captain Chubb c.o.c.ked his eye at his young companion.

"Bit rusty this morning," he whispered.

"Yes; uncle's getting out of patience," whispered back Rodd.

"No wonder," said the captain. "Well, 'tarn't my fault. I never see such a doctor's shop and museum as he's made of the craft."

"Now, Rodney!" came from below sharply.

"Coming, uncle!" cried the boy, s.n.a.t.c.hing at the bra.s.s rail, which, like every bit of metal about the beautiful vessel, shone as brightly as if it were part of a yacht.

The doctor was standing at the foot of the stairs with his hand upon a door, which he had just unlocked, and he led the way into a well-lit portion of the vessel which had originally been intended for the stowage of cargo, but which was now fitted up with an endless number of arrangements such as had been deemed necessary for the carrying out of the expedition.

One portion was like a chemical laboratory. Upon dresser-like tables fitted against the bulkhead were rows of railed-in bottles and jars, and beneath them new bright microscopes and other apparatus such as would gladden the heart of a naturalist. But the doctor gave merely a cursory glance at these various objects, with whose arrangement he had long been familiar, and made his way to where, set up on end upon a stout bench, were about a dozen specially made spirit casks, each fitted with its tap and a little receptacle hung beneath to catch any drops that might leak away.

"Here, I want to test these," said the doctor; "and, by the way, ask Captain Chubb to step down."

There was no need, for almost at the same moment the captain's heavy step was heard upon the metal-covered cabin stairs.

"Anything I can do, sir?" he asked, in his gruff way.

"Yes, look here, captain," said the doctor, and he took a bright gla.s.s measure from where it hung by its foot in a little rack, safe from falling by the rolling of the vessel; "I was just going to test these spirits, and I thought I should like you to be here."

"Hah!" said the captain. "I've thought a deal about all them little barrels put so handy there, ready on tap, and it's the only thing I don't like, Dr Robson."

"Why?" said Uncle Paul shortly.

"Why, it's just like this, sir. I have picked you out as sober a crew as ever went on a voyage, but sailors are sailors, sir, and I don't think it's right to be throwing temptation in their way."

"But this, my workshop, where I bottle my specimens, will always be kept under lock and key."

"Nay!" snorted the captain.

"But I tell you it will," cried Uncle Paul. "n.o.body will have any business here but my nephew and me."

"That's what you mean," said the captain, "but how about times when you are busy, or forget and leave it open? Can't warrant always to keep it shut."

"Well," said Uncle Paul, with a curious smile, "I have thought of that,"

and going to one of the little casks he turned the tap and let about a couple of tablespoonfuls of liquid that looked like filtered water flow into the little gla.s.s measure, covering the bottom to about an inch in depth. "There," said the doctor, holding up the gla.s.s to the light; "just taste that, captain."

"Nay. I don't mind a drop of good rum at the proper season, but I don't care about spirits like that."

"I only want you to taste it," said the doctor. "It's too strong to drink."

"I know," said the captain. "Burns like fire."

"Just taste, but don't swallow it."

"Nay--Well, I'll do that. But it looks like physic."

The speaker just dipped his fore-finger into the liquid, and touched his lips, to cry angrily--

"Why, it's pison!"

"No," said the doctor; "proof alcohol for preserving my specimens. If by accident any of the men taste that they won't want any more, will they?"

"Don't know," said the captain. "Maybe they'd water it down."

"Fill that measure with water, Rodd," said the doctor.

The boy took the gla.s.s to a big stone filter covered with basketwork, and filled the measure to the brim.

"Now try it, captain," said the doctor.