The Red Eric Part 39

"Oh! George! Stop him! do stop him. He's _so_ violent! He'll do something dreadful!" said Aunt Martha.

"Will no one call out murder?" groaned Aunt Jane, with a shudder.

As no one, however, ventured to check Captain Dunning, he reached the door, and confronted a rough, big, burly sailor, who stood outside with a free-and-easy expression of countenance, and his hands in his trousers pockets.

"Why don't you go away when you're told, eh?" shouted the captain.

"'Cause I won't," answered the man coolly.

The captain stepped close up, but the sailor stood his ground and grinned.

"Now, my lad, if you don't up anchor and make sail right away, I'll knock in your daylights."

"No, you won't do nothin' o' the kind, old gen'lem'n; but you'll double-reef your temper, and listen to wot I've got to say; for it's very partikler, an' won't keep long without spilin'."

"What have you got to say, then?" said the captain, becoming interested, but still feeling nettled at the interruption.

"Can't tell you here."

"Why not?"

"Never mind; but put on your sky-sc.r.a.per, and come down with me to the grog-shop wot I frequents, and I'll tell ye."

"I'll do nothing of the sort; be off," cried the captain, preparing to slam the door.

"Oh! it's all the same to me, in coorse, but I rather think if ye know'd that it's 'bout the _Termagant_, and that 'ere whale wot--but it don't matter. Good-mornin'."

"Stay," cried the captain, as the last words fell on his ears.

"Have you really anything to say to me about that ship?"

"In coorse I has."

"Won't you come in and say it here?"

"Not by no means. You must come down to the grog-shop with _me_."

"Well, I'll go."

So saying the captain ran back to the parlour; said, in hurried tones, that he had to go out on matters of importance, but would be back to dine at five, and putting on his hat, left the cottage in company with the strange sailor.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

CAPTAIN DUNNING ASTONISHES THE STRANGER--SURPRISING NEWS, AND DESPERATE RESOLVES.

Still keeping his hands in his pockets and the free-and-easy expression on his countenance, the sailor swaggered through the streets of the town with Captain Dunning at his side, until he arrived at a very dirty little street, near the harbour, the chief characteristics of which were noise, compound smells, and little shops with sea-stores hung out in front. At the farther end of this street the sailor paused before a small public-house.

"Here we are," said he; "this is the place w'ere I puts up w'en I'm ash.o.r.e--w'ich ain't often--that's a fact. After you, sir."

The captain hesitated.

"You ain't afraid, air you?" asked the sailor, in an incredulous tone.

"No, I'm not, my man; but I have an objection to enter a public-house, unless I cannot help it. Have you had a gla.s.s this morning?"

The sailor looked puzzled, as if he did not see very clearly what the question had to do with the captain's difficulty.

"Well, for the matter o' that, I've had three gla.s.ses this mornin'."

"Then I suppose you have no objection to try a gla.s.s of my favourite tipple, have you?"

The man smiled, and wiping his mouth with the cuff of his jacket, as if he expected the captain was, then and there, about to hand him a gla.s.s of the tipple referred to, said--

"No objection wotsomediver."

"Then follow me; I'll take you to the place where _I_ put up sometimes when I'm ash.o.r.e. It's not far off."

Five minutes sufficed to transport them from the dirty little street near the harbour to the back-parlour of the identical coffee-house in which the captain was first introduced to the reader. Here, having whispered something to the waiter, he proceeded to question his companion on the mysterious business for which he had brought him there.

"Couldn't we have the tipple first?" suggested the sailor.

"It will be here directly. Have you breakfasted?"

"'Xceptin' the three gla.s.ses I told ye of--no."

Well, now, what have you to tell me about the _Termagant_? You have already said that you are one of her crew, and that you were in the boat that day when we had a row about the whale. What more can you tell me?

The sailor sat down on a chair, stretched out his legs quite straight, and very wide apart, and thrust his hands, if possible, deeper into his pockets than they even were thrust before--so deep, in fact, as to suggest the idea that there were no pockets there at all--merely holes.

Then he looked at Captain Dunning with a peculiarly sly expression of countenance and winked.

"Well, that's not much. Anything more?" inquired the captain.

"Ho, yes; lots more. The _Termagant's_ in this yere port--at--this-- yere--moment."

The latter part of this was said in a hoa.r.s.e emphatic whisper, and the man raising up both legs to a horizontal position, let them fall so that his heels came with a crash upon the wooden floor.

"Is she?" cried the captain, with lively interest; "and her captain?"

"He's--yere--too!"

Captain Dunning took one or two hasty strides across the floor, as if he were pacing his own quarterdeck--then stopped suddenly and said--

"Can you get hold of any more of that boat's crew?"

"I can do nothin' more wotiver, nor say nothin' more wotsomediver, till I've tasted that 'ere tipple of yourn."