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Sail Ho! A Boy at Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 43

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_ CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

I was faint and hungry, but I could not help standing there for a few minutes in the hot sunshine, which sent a pleasant glow through my damp clothes, and watching the wonderful great wreaths of steam rolling and circling up in the bright light, which made them look as if the pearly lining of sea-shells were there in a gaseous state in preparation before sinking in solution down into the sea.

Here the wreaths looked soft and pearly and grey, there they were flushed with a lovely pink which, as the steam-cloud curled over, became scarlet and orange and gold. In places where they opened as they ascended, the gold-rayed blue sky showed through, to give fresh effects of beauty, while high up, there at times were the upper parts of the masts standing out as if they belonged to some smaller ship sailing away through a thick sea-fog of an ocean far above the level where I stood.

I was gazing wonderingly at the beautiful effects produced by the bright sunshine upon the vapour, forgetting all about our danger for the moment in spite of the steady clank of the double pump, which came in regular pulsation above the hiss and roar of the steam, when my name was suddenly pronounced behind me, and turning sharply, I saw Miss Denning standing there, looking very pale, and with a scared expression in her eyes that was painful to see.

She had evidently just come to the companion-way and caught sight of me, and now held out her hands, with a smile coming into her troubled face.

"I am so glad," she cried. "You will tell me the truth. My brother has sent me to see. Are we in great danger?"

"Oh no, I think not," I cried, as I took her hands, and felt as if I had been neglecting a sister and a sick brother to gratify my desire to watch some coloured clouds.

"You are not deceiving me?" she cried. "Tell me, is not the danger very great? Come and tell John."

She hurried me in through the saloon to where her brother was back in his own cabin, lying upon his mattress, looking terribly weak and ill. His face brightened though as he saw me, and he too held out his hands.

"Ah, Dale," he said feebly, "I wanted to see you. It is so hard to lie here without being able to help, and I sent Lena to get news. Tell us the whole truth. Don't keep anything back."

I told him all I knew, meeting his great sunken eyes frankly enough, and he seemed relieved.

"Then there is hope?" he said at last.

"Certainly, I think so," I replied. "They are mastering the fire, and it cannot burst out afresh, for the cargo not burned will be drenched with water."

"But it may have worked its way through the ship's side," he said, with a shake of his head. Then, suddenly--"Look here, I want you, if I break down altogether, and my sister here is left alone, to take my place, and be as it were her brother. We have both liked you from the first day we met. Will you promise this?"

"I will when it becomes necessary," I said quietly; "but you are going to be better."

He shook his head, and Miss Denning gazed at me wildly.

"Oh, come," I cried, "don't look at the black side of things. It was enough to make you much worse, having to go through all that trouble; but we've got rid of the mutineers, gone through an explosion and a fire, and all sorts of other trouble. You'll soon feel better when we are all straight again."

"That's what I tell him," said Miss Denning eagerly, "but he only shakes his head at me."

"And he doesn't know so well as I do."

"Had your breakfast, Dale, my lad?" cried Mr Brymer cheerily. "Good-morning, Miss Denning. Well, Mr Denning, we're winning the battle."

"Then you will save the ship?" cried Mr Denning.

"Oh yes, I think so now," said Mr Brymer quietly. "Miss Denning, it is almost an insult to ask you, but if you could find time to help us a little!"

"Yes," she said eagerly. "What can I do?"

"I would not ask you, but we are all forced to go on pumping to extinguish the fire, and to a man we are getting exhausted."

"And you want food--breakfast?"

"That's it, my dear young lady; and if you could collect a few scraps together for us--"

"It is all ready in the cabin next to the captain's."

"Hah! I might have known," cried the mate, taking Miss Denning's hand to raise it to his lips. "God bless you for all you have done for us, Miss Denning. If my little wife at home could only know everything, she would be down on her knees praying for your safety. Look here, Mr Denning, don't you be down-hearted. I can read you like a book, better than the doctor. Half your complaint is worry about your sister here."

"Well," said Mr Denning with a faint smile, "suppose I grant that it is."

"Why, then, you would be honest, that's all. Now don't you fidget about her, for there are on board this ship six men--I was going to say and a boy, but I can't, for that boy counts as a man in the spirit to do all he can, so I shall say seven good men and true--who will do everything they can to protect as sweet a young English lady as ever stepped. There isn't one of us, from grim-looking Neb Dumlow or brown Bob Hampton up to the doctor, who wouldn't cheerfully give his life to save her from harm."

"Yes, yes," cried Mr Denning, with the weak tears in his eyes, "I know."

"And I too," said Miss Denning, in a choking voice, "though I do not know what I have done to deserve it."

"You don't?" cried Mr Brymer; "then I'll tell you, my dear. There, I say it, and mean it. You have behaved like a true, sweet English lady should, ever since you have been on board. Do you think, rough sailors as we are, we haven't seen your devotion to your brother? Do you think we haven't all loved you for your genuine patient English pluck all through troubles that would have made scores of fine madams faint. Here, I'm getting into a knot, instead of getting something to eat, and going back to my work. Mr Denning, don't you fidget, sir. We'll pull you through. And you, Miss Denning, if you'll go on seeing that the poor fellows have a morsel now and then, we'll bless you a little more. Come along, Dale, we must get back."

We hurried out, but I saw Miss Denning sink down on her knees sobbing by her brother's side; and, as he put his left arm round her neck, he waved his right hand to me.

"It's no use talking, Dale, my lad," said Mr Brymer huskily, "we must save the ship--we will. Now, then, let's get a handful of food a-piece and look in on the captain before we go back."

I followed him into the right cabin, where a freshly-opened tin of beef, some biscuits, and a can of fresh water stood ready on a white cloth, and we both began to eat ravenously.

"There's an angel for you, Dale," mumbled the mate, with his mouth full. "Right kind of angel too, who can open meat-tins for hungry men, and who knows that even now it's nicer off a white cloth. I don't wonder at the doctor."

"What about the doctor?" I said curiously, as I too ate as if I had not had anything for a month.

"Never you mind. Fill your fists and come along. Eat as we go."

We each covered a biscuit with meat and laid another on the top, to form the hardest sandwiches ever made by man, and then hurried into the next cabin, where Captain Berriman was lying on a mattress.

"Ah, Brymer! At last!" he cried. "Well?"

"Yes, it's well, skipper," said Mr Brymer. "I think we shall save the ship."

Captain Berriman's lips moved, as his eyes closed for a few moments.

"Can you eat this?" said the mate, offering his sandwich.

"Oh no. Miss Denning has been attending to me, bless her!"

"Amen, and a double blessing," said Mr Brymer. "There, keep a good heart, man, and pray for another day or two's calm. We'll do everything possible. Good-bye."

"I know you will, Brymer. Go on, then. You will all do your best."

He smiled at me then, and I followed the mate, who was hurrying along to the end of the saloon.

"Let's look at Walters first."

"No. You go; I can't, my lad. If I do I shall feel as if I must throw him overboard. He might have saved us from all this. Go and see him, and don't let him starve; though I suppose Mr Frewen's feeding him now on physic."

He hurried away, as I felt that in all probability Miss Denning had been there to see to the wretched lad; and so it proved, for on the locker close to his head was a glass of fresh water, and the white handkerchief bound round his head, still moist with eau-de-cologne, was evidently one of hers.

His eyes were closed as I entered, but after a minute he opened them and looked at me fixedly.

I could not help shuddering, and thinking how horribly bad he looked, but the repelling feeling gave way to pity directly, as I thought of how sharply he was being punished for all he had done--wounded, suffering severely in body, and far worse, I was sure, in mind.

I hesitated for a few moments, hardly knowing how to approach him, for mentally I felt farther from him than ever. We had never been friends, for I knew that he had never liked me, while now, as I gazed at him, and thought of all the sufferings he had caused, I felt that we ought to be enemies indeed. And so I behaved to him like the worst enemy I ever had, and as he gazed at me fixedly I went and laid my hand upon his forehead.

"You're precious hot and feverish," I said. "You had better have the door open too."

I propped the cabin-door wide, so that the air might pass through, and then added, gruffly enough--

"Shipbuilders are awful fools to make such little round windows," but, as I said it, I felt all the time that the little iron-framed circular window that could be screwed up, air and water-tight, had been the saving of many a ship in rough seas.

"Hadn't you better drink some water?" I said next, as I saw him pass his dry tongue over his parched lips.

"Please," he said feebly; and, as I took the glass of water, passed my arm under his head to hold him up and let him drink, I said to myself--

"You cowardly, treacherous brute!--the bullet ought to have killed you, or we should have let you drown."

"Hah!" he sighed, as, after sipping a little of the water and swallowing it painfully, he began taking long deep draughts with avidity, just as if the first drops had moistened his throat and made a way for the rest.

"Have another glass?" I said abruptly.

He bowed his head, and I let him down gently; though, as I thought of Miss Denning, her brother, and the burning ship, I felt that I ought to let him down with as hard a bump as I could.

I filled the glass again, and once more lifted him and let him drink, scowling at him all the time.

"There," I thought, as I laid him back again, "that's enough. You'll soon die, and I don't want to have the credit of killing you with kindness."

He looked at me piteously, and his lips moved, but I could not grasp what he said.

"Wound hurt?" I asked.

He bowed his head.

"Sure to," I said. "It'll be ever so much worse yet."

He bowed his head again.

"Look here," I said gruffly, "why don't you speak, and not wag your head like a mandarin in a tea-shop?"

He looked at me reproachfully, and his lips moved again.

"Is the ship still burning?" he said faintly, and evidently with a great effort.

"Yes, I s'pose so," I replied. "It wasn't out when I came away. Arn't you glad?"

"Glad?" he said with a groan.

"Oh, well, it was all your doing. Feel proud, don't you?"

His eyes gazed fully in mine, and their lock said plainly, "I'm weak, helpless, and in misery. I'm full of repentance too, now. Don't, don't, pray, cast my sins in my face."

But somehow my tongue seemed to be out of my control. I wanted to take pity on him, and to do all I could to make his position more bearable, but all the time I kept on attacking him with the sharpest and most bitter reproaches.

"You ought to be proud," I said. "You can lie there and think that through your blackguards the ship has been blown up, and is now burning, and would burn to the water's edge if we couldn't stop it. The captain looks as if he were dying; you are nearly killed; you've nearly killed poor Mr Denning, who came this voyage for the benefit of his health; you have had Miss Denning insulted and exposed to no end of dangers; poor old Neb Dumlow has a shot in him; and we've been treated more like dogs than anything else; while now your beautiful friends have turned upon you, and left you to be burned in the ship they have set on fire, for aught they care. Yes; you ought to be proud of your work."

He groaned, and I felt as if I should like to bite my tongue off, as I wondered how I could have said such bitter things.

"I say, don't faint," I cried, and leaned over him, and sprinkled his face with water, for his eyelids had drooped, and a terribly ghastly look came over his face. But even as I tried to bring him to, I felt as if I were only doing so to make him hear my reproaches once more.

He opened his eyes after a few moments, and looked up at me.

"Here," I said roughly; "I'd better fetch the doctor to you."

"What for?" he cried. "He will only try and save my life, when it would be better for me to die out of the way. I want to die. How can I face people at home again? No, no, don't fetch him. It's all over. There is no hope for me now."

"Can I help you, Walters?" said Miss Denning, suddenly appearing at the door-way; and as I looked at her bright gentle face, with my wretched messmate's words still ringing in my ears, I could not help thinking that there must be hope even for such a cowardly traitor as he had proved, when she was here ready to help him and forgive all the past.

"Yes, Miss Denning, I think you can," I said very clumsily, I know. "Walters knows what a brute he has been, and of course he is horribly sorry, and bad now, and keeps on speaking about there being no hope for him, and wanting to die. I can't talk to him, because I don't seem to be able to do anything but pitch into him--I mean with words--but you can."

"Poor fellow!" she said gently; and she laid her hand upon his hot brow; "he is very feverish, and in great pain."

"Yes, of course he is," I cried hurriedly; "but that's the way. I couldn't have said that. It would do any fellow good. And I say, Miss Denning, you tell him that I didn't mean all I said," I continued. "He's done wrong, and he's sorry for it, and I'm sure I'll forgive him if you will."

She smiled at us both so gently that the stupid weak tears came in my eyes.

"That means you will," I cried hurriedly. "Then I say, you speak to him, and make him feel that talking about dying's no good. He can't show how sorry he is if he does, can he?"

"Of course not."

"Then tell him he's to get well as soon as he can, and play the man now and help us to save the ship, and you, and all of us; and I say, I really must go and help now, and--oh, Miss Denning, don't sit down there; that's my sandwich."

I caught up the partly eaten biscuit and meat, and hurried out of the cabin to make my way forward.

"What a donkey I have made of myself!" I cried, mentally. "I thought I had said stupid enough things to poor old Walters, and now I've spoken such nonsense to her that she'll always look upon me as a regular booby. Yes, that she will." _

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