Up The Baltic Part 36

"I went away," said Clyde.

"You! Were you with them?" demanded Peaks.

"I was."

"Why didn't you say so before?"

"You didn't ask me; and as you were not remarkably civil to me, I didn't feel obliged to tell you the news."

"But there were not ten of them."

"Yes, ten," said Clyde.

"There were only nine when they left the ship."

"I know there were ten with me. One of them was a Norwegian, and a rascal; but he wore the same uniform as the rest of them."

"What was his name?"

"Ole."

"Ole! Why, he's the fellow we picked up out at sea," exclaimed the astonished boatswain. "Where have they been all this time?"

But Clyde suddenly bethought himself that he was altogether too communicative, considering the relations that subsisted between himself and his great enemy and persecutor, and he decided to answer no more questions.

"All right, my hearty," laughed the boatswain, when the Briton declined to answer. "They are on their way to the ship, and you will be very soon."

Peaks was cunning enough to detain his interpreter so that he should not return to the Victoria and inform Mrs. Blacklock where her son was. The way was clear now, for he had no further responsibility in regard to the cutter's crew, and his spirits rose accordingly. He sent his man to engage a "hutte," or state-room, in the steamer, and then, at a late hour in the evening, paid and discharged him. He compelled Clyde to sleep in the same chamber with him, for it contained three beds, and it is probable that the boatswain kept one eye open during the night, for every time the prisoner moved, his tyrant was on his feet. The Kronprindsesse Louise sailed at six o'clock in the morning, and Peaks and his victim were betimes on board. The boatswain was a happy man when the boat was clear of the wharf, and on her way to Gottenburg. He flattered himself that he had managed the affair very well indeed, for he was not above the vanities of the flesh.

It was midnight when the Kronprindsesse arrived at her destination.

Peaks had kept one eye on Clyde all the time, and brought him in safety to his journey's end. Late as was the hour, the first person he saw at the landing was Mr. Blaine, the chief steward of the ship.

"I'm glad to see you, Blaine," shouted the boatswain when he identified his shipmate, and grasped his hand. "Shiver my timbers if I'm not rejoiced to see a man that speaks plain English! Where's the ship?"

"She sailed for Copenhagen this evening."

"No; you don't say so!"

"It's a fact. The students went up the ca.n.a.l as far as the falls, and returned about dark. The squadron got under way at once. I suppose you have the cutter's crew with you, Peaks?"

"No; arn't they on board yet?"

"I haven't seen them."

"But they came down on an English steamer that left Christiania last night."

"An English steamer came in this forenoon, but we haven't seen the cutter's crew."

"That's strange. I shouldn't wonder if those fellows were cutting up a little."

"But we lost two students yesterday, Scott and Laybold. I suppose they ran away."

"There's a screw loose somewhere. These boys have too much money,"

added Peaks. "But what are you going to do, and what am I to do?"

"I was left here to look out for Scott and Laybold, and meet you when you came. Now, it seems that about a dozen of the rascals are missing."

"I have the Briton here."

"If I were you, Peaks, I should go right on to Copenhagen in this steamer, and you can report the facts to the princ.i.p.al."

The boatswain decided to do this, while the head steward remained to search for the absentees; and in due time Peaks delivered his prisoner on board of the ship in the harbor of Copenhagen.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE MEETING OF THE ABSENTEES.

Scott and Laybold, after imbibing a single gla.s.s of "finkel" each, which proved to be more than they could carry, retreated into a narrow lane, to escape the observation of a party of officers who were on their way to the landing. Neither of them had any inclination for intoxicating drinks, and had taken the stuff without knowing what it was. But they were conscious that everything was not right with them.

They found it quite impossible to walk in a straight line, and even the problem of standing up was not demonstrated to the entire satisfaction of either of them. Talking was not without its difficulties, for their tongues seemed to be double their ordinary thickness, and their lips and other organs of speech were not as manageable as usual. For a time the effects of the potent liquor increased upon them, and as they had taken it in a hungry condition, they realized its full power.

They staggered up the lane, conscious that they were making a ridiculous figure, though the solemn Swedes hardly smiled as they observed the effects of the national beverage. They dreaded an encounter with any of the officers, or others connected with the squadron; but in this unfrequented lane they were not likely to meet any of their shipmates. As there is more power in four legs than in two, however weak in detail they may be, the tipsy students locked arms, and leaned on each other, one attempting to counteract the obliquities of the other. They wandered along without knowing whither they were going, till they came to a small public house, which had a bench in front of it for the accommodation of the topers who frequented the bar-room. By mutual consent, and without argument, the unfortunate couple aimed for this seat as soon as they saw it, for it promised a grateful respite from the perils of locomotion. The "finkel" was now doing its utmost upon them. Their heads were dizzy, and everything was wofully uncertain; still they knew what they were about, and had sense enough left to dread the consequences of their indiscretion. After they had seated themselves, they glanced at each other, as if to ascertain the condition one of the other.

"Lay--bold," said Scott.

"Well, old fellow," replied the other, with a desperate attempt to stiffen his muscles.

"We're zrunk," added Scott, trying to laugh.

"I know that."

"We're very zrunk."

"I'm not zbad zyou."

"I don't zknow."

The conversation extended no further then, for speech required an effort they were incapable of making. Scott gaped violently, and seemed to be sick; but his contortions ended in his falling asleep, with his head tipped back against the wall. Laybold, more nice in the disposition of his helpless body, stretched himself on the bench, and was soon lost to all consciousness of the outer world. The publican who kept the house came out and looked at the juvenile tipplers.

Doubtless he had seen too many drunken sailors to misapprehend their condition. He understood the matter perfectly, and being a thrifty Swede, he was disposed to turn their condition to his own emolument.

He had sundry vacant chambers in his hotel, whose revenues swelled the sum total of his annual profits, and it hurt his feelings to have them remain unoccupied. Besides, the air was chilly, and the young strangers might take cold, and contract a severe illness by such exposure. But whether he was a publican or a Samaritan in his intentions, he decided to remove the strangers to the rooms beneath his hospitable roof. Summoning the porter to his aid, they jointly bore Laybold to his apartment, and laid him on the bed, which, in spite of the low character of the house, was a model of Swedish neatness. When Scott's turn came, he offered some resistance to the good intentions of the publican; but his head was too thoroughly muddled for successful opposition. Between the effects of sleep and "finkel" he could not obtain a very clear idea of what was going on.

He was placed on another bed in the room with his shipmate. They were both comfortably disposed on their clean couches, the pillows nicely adjusted beneath their heads, and their bodies covered with blankets.

The two students were very tired as well as very tipsy, and their slumbers were deep and heavy. It was after nine o'clock, though it was still light in the chamber, and the young tars usually retired, when not on watch, before this seemly hour. "Finkel" and fatigue did the rest, and they slept, without rocking, till long after the early sun broke into the windows of their apartment. We have seen the effect of "finkel" upon one unaccustomed to the use of liquor, and upon boys of fifteen or sixteen it could not but be entirely overpowering. It is a dangerous fluid, and is taken by the Swedes at all times, being the first thing at meals, and especially at the inevitable "snack" that precedes a regular dinner. There is, doubtless, good ground for the fear which has been expressed that the people of Sweden are in danger of becoming "a nation of drunkards."

Scott was the first to open his eyes and come to his senses. He raised himself in the bed, shook off the blanket, and then jumped out upon the floor. He did not comprehend the situation, and was unable, in his own words, to "figure up how he happened to be in that room."