The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 55

"You are a droll of boy," said Morny, laughing.

"I'm a what?" cried Rodd.

"Droll of boy--_drole de garcon. C'est juste, n'est-ce pas_?"

"Oh, if you like," cried Rodd merrily; "but if you don't think those are the best parts of the story, which are?"

"Ah!" said Morny thoughtfully. "The part that I remember most is feeling that somehow things are not always so black as they look, that Dartmoor was not such a dreary desert, and that the fierce frowning guards were not so hard and unpleasant as they seemed. There were times after that when I was very happy there, for my father's wound began to get better, and I found myself strong and well again. But after a time there was a new governor there, who behaved very harshly to the prisoners, and as we got well the great longing for freedom used to grow within us, and some of the men tried to escape. This made the governor more harsh and stern. We were kept more shut up--"

"And I suppose that made you long all the more to get free?"

"Of course," replied Morny; "and at last there came a time when we heard a little news from across the sea--news which seemed to make my father the Count half wild with longing, and one day he told me that he had had a lot of napoleons sent to him to help him to escape, and that the first fine day we were allowed out for exercise upon the moor we would make a dash for liberty."

"You should have done it when you were out fishing," said Rodd.

"Oh no. The fishing had been stopped for a long time--ever since the first attempts had been made to escape."

"Oh, I see," said Rodd.

"And at last the day came," continued Morny, "and we made our attempt, but only to find that we were very closely guarded, and that soldiers were on the look-out in all directions; and in the attempt my father and I became separated, and I should have been taken if it had not been that--"

"Look here," cried Rodd, springing up, "there's Joe Cross signalling to me from the maintop. He can see something. I say, that happened luckily for you, young fellow, for you were just getting on to dangerous ground."

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

LAND HO!

"What is it, Joe?" cried Rodd.

"Easy, sir!" said the man softly. "Not too loud," he continued, from where he was seated upon the cross-trees. "I don't want to give the skipper a false alarm, else he won't believe me next time."

"What about?"

"Easy, my lad! Just in a whisper like. I aren't sure, but to you I says, Land ho!"

"Whereabouts, Joe?" cried Rodd excitedly.

"Ah!" cried Morny, springing up. "Land!" And he faced round to gaze towards the brig that was sailing very slowly after them some three hundred yards away--sailing, but doing little more than forge her way through the water.

"Nay, not that way, sir," said Joe softly, "but doo east. You can't see anything from down there, Mr Rodd, sir. I can't even make certain with the gla.s.s."

"Hold hard, Joe! I am coming up," cried Rodd. "All right, sir; but you will be disappointed when you do."

"I won't be long, Morny," said Rodd eagerly.

"No; be quick," whispered Morny excitedly. "I want for my father to know. He is so anxious about the brig."

Rodd gave him a quick jerk of the head as he went on climbing the ratlines as quickly as he could, forgetting all about the heat and the silvery glare of the piercing sunshine.

He was not long mounting to the sailor's side, seating himself on the opposite side of the mast.

"Now then," he cried, as he shuffled into his place; "let me look."

"All right, sir. Ketch hold," replied the sailor stolidly. "You'll do it; your eyes are so much younger and sharper than mine."

"None of your gammon, Joe!" cried the boy sharply, as he focussed the gla.s.s to suit his eyes, while with one arm embracing the b.u.t.t of the main-topgallant-mast he held the tube steadily to his eye, asking for guidance the while.

"Now then," he said; "whereabouts?"

"Right straight ahead, sir. You can't miss it if it's there, for it stretches away as far as you like to left and right!"

"Why, there's no land, Joe."

"Not looking down low enough, sir, perhaps. It aren't right up in the sky."

"Well, who's looking up in the sky?" cried Rodd irritably.--"I am looking right down to the horizon line."

"Well, that's right, sir. Take a good long look. Now then, can't you see it?"

There was silence for a few moments, and Morny, who was gazing upwards, seemed to be all eyes and ears.

"Can't you see it, Master Rodd?" repeated Joe.

"No."

"Perhaps 'tarn't land, then, sir."

"No. It was all your fancy. There's nothing to be seen."

"Where are you looking, sir?"

"At a little low bank of pale misty cloud. That's all, Joe. Your eyes want a good rub."

"Dessay they do, sir. They aren't much account," said the man; "but that caps what I saw," and putting his hands to the sides of his mouth he yelled out in stentorian tones, "Land ho!"--a signal that was followed by the hurried shuffling sound of feet ascending to the deck.

"Here, what are you doing?" cried Rodd angrily. "Spreading a false alarm like that!"

"Oh, it's right enough, sir."

"But there's nothing but a cloud there, Joe."

"Looks like it, sir, but land it is all the same."

"Where away?" came in the skipper's hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Dead ahead, sir," replied the sailor, and Rodd steadied the gla.s.s again, bringing it to bear upon what looked more than ever like the faintest of faint hazes upon the surface of the distant sea.