The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 20

This time with a scowl of dislike, the captain raised the gla.s.s to his lips, but set it down again quickly and hurried to a little leaden sink in one corner of the laboratory.

"Worse than ever, doctor."

"Well, do you think the men will water that down?"

"Not they! One taste will be quite enough."

"You don't think I need label those casks 'Temptation,' do you?"

"Nay, sir. If you want to be honest to the lads, I should put 'Pison'

upon them in big letters."

"I would," said the doctor dryly, "but, as you say, sailors are sailors, and I don't think they'd believe it if I did."

"What have you put in it, sir?"

"Ah! that's my secret, Captain Chubb."

"Well, I hope none of the lads will touch it; but it's sperrits, you know. Won't answer for it that if one of them was helping you to bottle up some of them things as we shall fish up when we gets into the Tropics, he wouldn't be trying a sip."

"I shouldn't be surprised either," said the doctor, "but if he did he wouldn't do it again."

The skipper looked at him sharply.

"Don't mean that, do you, sir?" he cried.

"Indeed, but I do," replied the doctor.

"Going too far," growled the skipper. "Look here, doctor; I've fell into all your ways like a man, and have helped to drill the chaps into handling your tackle, which is outside an able seaman's dooties; but I don't like this 'ere a bit."

"I can't help that," said the doctor, bristling up. "I shall of course tell them that they must not touch this stuff, of which no doubt I shall use a great deal, and it will be in direct opposition to my orders if they give way to the temptation."

"Right enough," said the skipper, "but seamen's weak--like babies in some things--and a good skipper has to be like a father to them, to keep them out of mischief. Don't know no better, doctor. You do, and it's too strong, sir; it's too strong."

"Then let them leave it alone," said the doctor hotly.

"That's right, sir, but maybe they won't. Don't mean to say that I am stupid over them, but when I get a good crew I like to take care of them. Here, I'm getting out of breath. Can't make long speeches. Cut it short."

"Then say no more about it," said the doctor.

"Nay, it won't do. Taking out a good crew of smart lads. Want to bring them all back, not leave none of them sewed up in their hammocks and sunk in the sea with a shot at their heels. Look here, sir; how many of them there kegs have you doctored?"

"All of them. Why, my good fellow, you don't think I have put poison in, do you?"

"Said you had."

"Pooh! Nonsense! My boy Rodd and I tried experiments to see how nasty we could make the spirits without being dangerous. There's nothing there that would hurt a man; only you mustn't tell them so."

"Oh-h-h! That's another pair of shoes, as the Frenchies say;" and the skipper went up on deck.

"Thick-head!" growled the doctor. "Did he fancy I was going to kill a man for meddling? Bah!"

"He did, uncle. He doesn't know you yet."

"Well, I suppose not, my boy, but I am beginning to think that we are getting to know the crew pretty well by heart. Well, all we want now is a favourable wind, then we will hoist our sailing flag; and then--off."

"For how long, uncle?"

"Ah, that's more than I can say, Rodd, my boy. We'll see what luck we have, and how the stores last out. We'll get started, and leave the rest."

Two days later the start had been made, with everything as ready as the combined efforts of the doctor's and Captain Chubb's experience could contrive, and with his face all smiles Dr Robson stood beside Rodd, watching the receding sh.o.r.e as they, to use the skipper's words, bowled down Channel.

"Good luck to us, Pickle, my boy!" cried the doctor. "It's been a long weary time of preparation, but it has been worth it. We have got a splendid captain--a man in whom I can thoroughly trust, and a crew of as smart, handy, useful fellows as I could have wished for."

"Yes, uncle; and haven't they taken to all the arrangements about the tackle!"

"Yes, Pickle. They have all proved themselves not only eager and active, but as much interested as so many boys. Splendid fellows; and old Chubb knows how to handle them too. Fetch my gla.s.s up, Pickle.

Let's have a look at the old country as long as we can."

Rodd darted off to the cabin hatch, but he staggered once or twice, for the schooner as she rose and fell kept on careening a little over to leeward, and in pa.s.sing one of the sailors--a fine bluff-looking young fellow--the man smiled.

"Here, what are you grinning at, Joe Cross?" cried Rodd, who, after many months of intercourse with the crew, was fully acquainted with all, and knew a good many of their peculiarities.

"Oh, not at you, Mr Harding, sir. It was a little bit of a sn.i.g.g.e.r at your boots."

"What!" cried Rodd.

"Just a little guffaw, sir. You see, the deck's as white as a holystone will make it, and your boots is black, and black and white never did agree. It's beginning to get a bit fresh, sir, and if I was you I'd striddle a bit, so as to take a bit better hold of the deck with your footsies. I shouldn't like to see you come down hard."

"Oh, I shan't come down," said Rodd confidently; but as he was speaking the schooner gave a sudden pitch which sent the boy into the sailor's arms.

"Avast there!" cried the man. "Steady, sir!--Steady it is! There, let me stand you up again on your pins. You mustn't do that, or you'll have the lads thinking you're a himmidge, or a statty, a-tumbling off your shelf."

"Thank you. I am all right now," said Rodd. "My boots are quite new, and the soles are slippery."

"I see, sir, but it wasn't all that. You see, our Sally's been tied up by the nose for so many months in harbour yonder, that now she's running free she can't hold herself in. Ketch hold of the rail, sir. That's your sort! There she goes again, larking like a young kitten."

"I didn't know she'd dance about like this on a fine day," said Rodd rather breathlessly.

"Bless your heart, sir, this arn't nothing to what she can do. See how she's skipping along now. Aren't it lovely?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so," said Rodd; "but if it's like this in fine weather, what's it going to be in a storm?"

"Why, ever so much livelier, sir. She'll dance over the waves like a cork. She's a beauty, that's what she is. Mustn't mind her being a bit saucy. There's nothing that floats like a Salcombe schooner, and I never heard of one as sank yet."

"Yes, uncle; back directly!" cried the boy; and he made his way onward to the cabin stairs without mishap, and re-appeared directly afterwards with the doctor's big telescope under his arm, to make his way as well as he could to where Uncle Paul was standing forward at the side with his left arm round one of the stays.

"Walk straight, boy--walk straight!" cried the doctor, laughing. "What made you zigzag about like that?"