Young Tom Bowling Part 24

"Stand by, the watch forrud!" he sang out, in a voice of thunder, putting his hands to his mouth so as to form a speaking-trumpet, as he leant against the p.o.o.p rail, and pitching his key so high that his order triumphed over the noise of both wind and sea. "Man the jib halliards!

Hoist away!"

In the meantime the engine-room bell had been rung and rapid directions given to go astern full speed, our screw being down and steam got up long since, as I have already mentioned, so as to be prepared for a similar emergency.

"Hard up with the helm!" now shouted the commodore, who seemed to have taken the management of the ship for the moment entirely in his own hands; and then, looking forwards, he roared again to us on the forecastle, "Haul taut your jib sheet!"

The sail served its turn, with the backing of the screw, to make the corvette's head pay off as we wore ship; but the strength of the nor'- east gale was such, that hardly had we made the sheet fast, ere the jib blew clean away from its lacing, with the sound of a gun going off, while a big wave came over our weather side at the same time, and nearly washed every man-jack off the forecastle, beside flooding the waist, the sea rushing down in a torrent below through the after-hatchway which had not been battened down as yet.

It was a ticklish operation wearing with such a wind and sea on, and might have been attended with even worse peril than happened; for, if caught in the trough of some wave, broadside on, we might have capsized, instead of merely taking a hundred tons of water or so on board, which we could have very well dispensed with.

However, it was our only chance of getting out of the way of the approaching vessel--at least so our old commodore deemed, and he ought to have been, and was too, the best judge.

And the ship!

None of us for a second or two thought of looking for her, the men all rushing to their stations, and the port watch having been called on deck, as well as us chaps belonging to the starboard division, who were already there, in case of our broaching-to and our masts going by the board--which everybody believed, I think, barring the commodore, would have occurred.

Now, therefore, on our succeeding in paying off so handsomely without any serious mishap, the _Active_ scudding and running before the wind like a racehorse under her bare poles, so to speak, the sc.r.a.ps of storm staysails we carried being not worth taking into account, the eyes of every one were turned at once to windward to see what had become of the stranger vessel.

She had completely disappeared!

Whether she had luffed up too suddenly on seeing the danger of a collision between us, or had gone down all standing as she careered onward, no one will ever know; for, though lookouts were sent aloft and the horizon scanned in every direction, not a single trace of her was to be seen anywhere in sight, albeit the billowy surface of the tempest- tossed sea was so white with foam that any dark object would at once have been distinguished on its tumid bosom.

Not a trace was to be seen of the fine ship, which a moment ago was riding the waters like a thing of life, even if impelled to run before the fury of the gale--either astern of us, or ahead; or on our starboard beam, as she should have been by rights if matters had turned out differently; nor yet to port.

No, not a trace of her anywhere!

All of us seemed, really, to feel as if we had lost somebody or something; and when, presently, the watch was piped down, we all went below with saddened hearts.

"Oi wondther now," said Mick, when we were having our supper at our messing-place aft on the lower deck a little later on, "if thet theer vissil wor a raal ship, Tom, or a banshee?"

A man at the mess-table next ours heard his remark and burst out laughing.

"I've heard tell o' the Flying Dutchman being seen in stormy weather when going round the Cape," he said, speaking across the table in our direction; "but I can't say as how I ever heard before of a banshee adrift on the wide Atlantic Ocean!"

"Bedad, Oi say no rayson agin it," replied Mick, standing up for the superst.i.tions of his country like a man. "Faith, a banshee can go ony whare he loikes."

"Ay?" said the other interrogatively. "What is a banshee, my lad?"

"Begorrah," answered Mick, crossing himself, "thet's more'n ony one knows, may the saints presairve us fur mintionin' on 'em! They'll be sperrits, Oi thinks, if Oi don't misremimber, ez can take ony shape they plaizes!"

"Oh, spirits?" exclaimed the other man chaffingly, thinking he was going to pull Mick's leg a bit. "What sort o' spirits, my lad--is it rum, or gin, or whisky, now, you mean?"

Mick did not reflect a bit, but came out pat with his answer.

"Faith!" said he drily, setting the table in a roar as he winked from one to the other of the mess opposite, though this wink of his was hardly necessary, the habits and character of his questioner being very well known throughout the ship, "it's a rum tasthe ye'd foind thim sperrits, Oi'm afther thinkin', Misther Sharp! Bedad, yer gin wud be ez hot ez ginger; an' it's preshus little toime ye'd hev fur tournin' down the whisky, ez ye did, faith, the t'other day, whin ye wor brought up 'fore Noomber One on the quarther-deck, sure, fur goin' to shlape on the watch! Begorrah, if ye don't look out sharp, Misther Sharp, ye'll hev the divvle whiskin' ye off wid his tail, sure, fur thet same whisky ye're talkin' of!"

"Well, well, my joker," said Sharp good-humouredly, joining in the laugh of the rest of the chaps, though it was against himself; "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings about that Irish banshee of yours!"

This turned the merriment of the mess towards Mick again; but he came up to the scratch as 'smilingly' as he did in his fight with the mulatto at Barbados.

"Bedad," said he unflinchingly, "the banshees, sure, the saints presairve the good people from harmin' us! Can take virry good care ov thimselves; but, faith, if ye'd ivver sane wun, ye'd spake more rispictfully ov thim, sure!"

"Tell us," inquired Joblins, the 'green hand,' you may recollect, who went on deck to fetch his second lot of grog with a spud-net and who, though he had been made a bit sharper since then by the chaff and jokes of his messmates, was still not by any means bright, "did yer ever see one o' them ghostesses?"

"Hev Oi ivver sane wun?" repeated Mick, in a tone of intense scorn.

"Begorrah, Oi hev sane hoondreds!"

"Lor'!" exclaimed the simpleton, evidently impressed by this bold a.s.sertion of my chum, "tell us, mate, wot they's like."

This was enough for Mick.

"Ye won't be froightened, sure," he began, in a very solemn tone, the more to impress the anxious listener, "if Oi'm afther tillin' ye the whole thruth, now?"

"Frightened! No," replied Joblins defiantly, but looking nervous all the same. "I ain't so soon frightened as that, Mick!"

"All roight, me joker," said Mick. "Oi ownly thort ez how Oi'd not take ye onywheres, ye know; but, faith, ez Oi say ye're so brave a chap, Oi'll now carry on an' till ye all about a raal banshee Oi saw t'other noight."

Joblins moved uneasily on his seat.

"What!" he cried. "Yer doan't mean aboard this yere ship?"

"Ay, faith," said Mick coolly; "it wor aboord this virry ship, begorrah!"

"Lor'!" stammered out 'greeny,' whose face we could see was quite pale from the light of the ship's lantern near, it having got dark now on the lower deck through the closing in of the evening early, we being still in tropical lat.i.tudes. "I thort them things only came on land."

"That's where you're wrong, Joblins," put in Harris, his old tormentor, backing up Mick most effectively in his attempt at taking a rise out of the yokel. "Spirits aboard ship is pertic'lerly partial to water, as every one knows!"

Pa.s.sing by this ironical allusion of Harris to the current belief of all hands anent the watering of the men's grog by the steward, which was received with much favour by those standing round, Mick went on as gravely as a judge.

"Yis, sor, it wor aboord this viry ship thet Oi sayd me last spirrit, sure," said he. "Lit me say--it moost hev bin a wake, ay, or mebbe t'wor longer agone than thet. Oi wor a-coomin' oop the forepake afther dark, jist ez it mebbe now. Ye knows the forepake, Joblins?"

"Ye-e-es," stuttered out 'greeny,' his jaw dropping with fright, and his mouth open as big as a teacup. "I--I--I knows the forepeak, mate."

"Will, thin," continued Mick, "ez Oi came out on d.i.c.k oop the fore- hatchway, be the powers, I says, sure, a tirrible big black thing roight foreninst me, wid its long arrums stritched oot on ayther soide; an'

whin Oi looked oop fur to say if the onairthly craychur hed ony hid on him--"

"Lor'!" cried Joblins, interrupting him at this thrilling point, all agog with excitement; "what did you see, mate?"

"Faith," replied my chum, with a grin, "the poor craychur hed no hid at all, at all, sure! Begorrah, all he hed, sure, wor a spud-net, same as ye t.i.tched yer sicond 'lowance ov grog t'other day wid, Misther Joblins; an' this wor stuck atop ov wun ov the min's oilskins thet he'd hoong oot fur to dhry in the fore rigging. Thet wor the spirrit I sayd."

The roar of the boatswain's mate calling 'all hands' to make sail, at this juncture drowned the general laugh that went round the mess at poor Joblins' expense; and, exchanging the warm atmosphere of the lower deck for the boisterous weather above, we were soon engaged in the more arduous task of pulling ropes than other people's legs!

We had run some distance scudding before the gale; and, as the navigating officer thought that we were now pretty well beyond the risk of experiencing any further ill effects from the stormy nor'-easter, the commodore made up his mind to utilise it and proceed on our voyage home.

So setting our topsails double-reefed again and bracing round the yards on a bowline, we shaped a course for the Azores or Western Islands; and getting into calmer lat.i.tudes ere morning, were able to make all plain sail again.

On the second day after this we had an awful thunderstorm, in which the lightning flashed from all points of the compa.s.s, and heaven's artillery pealed as if the sky was bursting asunder.