The Powder Monkey Part 2

But it was all in vain: Jack and his young companion were torn apart, hurried down the stairs and out on to the Strand, and a few minutes later the boy was set at liberty, to spring to Jack's side, panting with excitement as he clung to him tightly; but it was with the water rippling and pattering against the bows of the boat which was being rowed rapidly out of the harbour towards the bay. Not long after, as the c.o.xswain's boat-hook caught a ring, the boat glided against the towering side of a great line of battleship, and the two prisoners were hurried up on deck, and Jack Jeens in spite of all protestations was made one of the crew of _HMS Victory_, and his little companion, the youngest boy on board, without a chance of setting foot ash.o.r.e again.

For at sunrise the sails were shaken out, and the great man-of-war with its tiers of guns was soon after leading the way down Channel in search of England's enemies, followed by the British Fleet, while the news that the fleet was commanded by Admiral Nelson seemed to Jack Jeens and the little fellow with whom he had become so strangely a.s.sociated only so many empty words.

CHAPTER THREE.

Jack Jeens sat upon the bottom of an upturned bucket with his elbows resting upon his knees, gazing down at his young companion of the previous night's adventure, who was half sitting, half lying, upon the lower deck of the great ship, close to the open port-hole, through which the morning light shone upon his face as he went on eating a biscuit, through the edge of which his keen pearly-white teeth pa.s.sed like those of a mouse.

It was light enough close to the boy, but all inward was very gloomy, and every here and there a lanthorn was burning dimly, although it was morning.

There was plenty of noise and bustle going on about the deck where the lanthorns burned, and the trampling of feet, and shouts that sounded like orders came now and then; but the princ.i.p.al sound just there by the port-hole through which the light came was the _crunch, crunch, crunch_ of the biscuit.

At last Jack Jeens spoke.

"It caps me," he said. "Seems wonderful. Here you are, just aboard ship for the first time, and 'stead o' being badly and sick, eating away like a reg'lar biscuit nibbler."

"I was so hungry," said the little fellow, with a bright smile.

"Eat away, then," said Jack; "but I say, arn't you frightened?"

"Not now," said the boy. "I was when those sailors came and woke me up."

"Course you would be," said Jack. "Why, it scared me. But arn't you frightened now?"

The boy shook his head and took another bite at the hard biscuit.

"Why arn't you frightened?" said Jack, after a good long stare at the biscuit-nibbler, as he called his companion.

"Because you're here," said the boy.

"Yes, I'm here, o' course," said Jack, staring hard as if puzzled. "I'm a-sitting close to yer; but that don't make no difference because I'm a pressed man."

"You'll take care of me and see that no one hurts me," said the boy, confidently.

"Oh, o' course," said Jack, scratching his head. "That is, while I'm here, but what's going to become of you when I'm gone?"

"Gone?" said the boy, sharply, as he left off eating. "You're not going away to leave me, are you?"

"Well, no," said Jack, grimly. "It's you who are going away to leave me."

"That I sha'n't," cried the boy, quickly. "I'll never go away from you.

I like you."

"That's right," said Jack Jeens, grinning with satisfaction; "and of course I like you too, youngster. But they'll be setting you ash.o.r.e soon, so that you can go back to your folk."

The boy shook his head.

"What do you mean by that?" said the sailor, sharply. "Lookye here, you never told me what your name was, nor where you come from."

The little fellow frowned and looked pained.

"Got a name, haven't you?" said the sailor.

"Yes, of course," cried the boy. "Phil."

"Phil, eh?" said the sailor. "Phil what?"

"Leigh," was the reply.

"Phil Leigh, eh? Hard a-lee. Well, where do you live?"

"At Greyton," said the boy, slowly and sadly. "No, I used to live there, till--till--till--"

"Yes, I know," said Jack, quickly, as he grasped the meaning of the boy's working face. "But why don't you live there now?"

"Because uncle came," said the boy, with a shudder, "and then I--I--You won't take me back, will you?"

"Dunno yet," said Jack, sternly. "Boys arn't got no business to run away from home. Watcher run away for?"

"He used to beat me so."

"Beat you--a little un like you?" cried Jack, with a look of disgust.

"What with?"

"Walking stick."

"Thick un?" said Jack, and the boy nodded. "And didn't n.o.body stop him?"

"Yes," said the little fellow quickly. "Aunt did."

"Who's aunt?" said Jack, sharply.

"Why, my aunt. She said it was a shame."

"Ha! I like her," said Jack, and he rubbed his hands. "But what did he beat you for?"

"He said I was always crying," said the boy, piteously. "But I couldn't help it."

"Course you couldn't," said Jack, softly. "You cried a-cause o' them being took away, didn't you?"

The boy nodded sharply--he did not dare to speak.

"Ha!" sighed Jack Jeens, as he rubbed his hands softly together. "I wish I'd been there. But I say, look here. And so you run away because he whipped you?"

The boy nodded.

"And went on walking till I run again' you?"