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Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 16 |
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_ CHAPTER SIXTEEN. "Why, what was up, sir?" whispered Barney, whose timely appearance put an end to the discussion. "Wasn't going to be a fight, weer it?" "I suppose so, Barney," said Syd, rather dolefully. "Then it'll have to be yet, lad; but it's a bit early." "Yes, Barney." "They didn't lose no time in 'tackling on yer." "No, Barney." "Well, lad, it's part of a reefer's eddication, so you'll have to go through with it. You're a toughish chickin as can whack my Pan; and he knows how to fight, as lots o' the big lads knows at home." "I don't want to fight," said Sydney, bitterly. "No, my lad, but you've got to now. Well, that there's a big un, and he'll lick you safe; but you give him a tough job to do it, and then all t'others 'll let you alone." "Well, Syd, lad; seen your new messmates?" cried a cheery voice. "Yes, uncle, I've seen them." "That's right, boy. I'm going ashore now. I'm proud of your ship, Syd, proud of the crew, and proud of you, my lad. Keep your head up, and may I live to see you posted. No, that's too much, but I must see you wear your first swab." "Am I to go ashore with uncle, father?" said Sydney. "Hush, my boy, once for all," said Captain Belton. "You are a junior officer now; I am your captain. We must keep our home life for home. No, Mr Belton, you will not go ashore again. You have joined your ship, and your chest will be brought on board by the boatswain." "Is Barney going to be a boatswain, sir?" cried Sydney, in his eagerness. Captain Belton gave him a look which said plainly enough, "Remember that I am your captain, sir!" And feeling abashed, the boy looked in another direction, to see that Barney was winking and screwing up his face in the most wonderful way to convey certain information of the fact that in his inexperience Sydney had not read in his uniform. "There, good-bye, Syd," said the old admiral, after a few minutes' more conversation with the captain, during which time the boat's crew had been piped away, and Terry had hurried on deck to take charge once more. Then there was a warm grasp of the hand as the old man leaned toward him, his words seeming the more impressive after what had just occurred. "God bless you, my lad!" he whispered. "You'll get some hard knocks; perhaps it'll come to a fight among your messmates, but if it does, don't have your comb cut. Recollect you're a Belton, and never strike your colours. Always be a gentleman, Syd, and never let any young blackguard with a dirty mind lead you into doing anything you couldn't own to openly. There, that's all, my boy. Drop the father, and never go to him with tales; he has to treat you middies all alike. There! Oh, one word; don't bounce and show off among your messmates, because your father's the captain, and you've got an old hulk at home who is an admiral; but whenever you want a few guineas to enjoy yourself, Uncle Tom's your banker, you dog. There! Be off!" Syd tried hard, but his eyes would get a little dim as the bluff old gentleman touched his hat to the officers, and went over the side, while the captain put his hands behind him and walked thoughtfully aft, to have a long consultation with the first lieutenant, after which he too went ashore without seeing his son again, and Sydney prepared for his first night on board. There was so much that was novel that the new middy had no time to feel dull, and he spent his time on deck, watching the return of the boat, saw it swung up to its davits again, and then, after noting the marines relieve guard, and the sentries at their posts, he was going forward, when he encountered the officer who had before spoken to him. "Got your traps on board yet, Mr Belton?" "Not yet, sir. My chest is coming to-night." "That's right. You'll be in a different fig then to-morrow, and I'll have a talk to you. Better pick up what you can from your messmates, but don't quarrel, and don't believe everything they tell you." He nodded not unkindly to the boy, and went off, while Barney, who had been watching his opportunity, came up and touched his hat. "Your chest's come aboard, sir, and I've had it put below. Better keep it locked, my lad, for you'll find my young gents pretty handy with their games." "Thank you, Barney." "Say Strake, sir, please now, or bo'sun." "Very well, Strake. Where is Pan?" "Right, sir. Forrard along with the other boys. Getting his roasting over. What yer think o' the first luff?" "I haven't seen him yet, Bar--Strake." "Oh, come now, sir; speak the truth whatever you do, and don't try those games on me. Why, I sin yer talking to him." "That?" said Sydney, smiling, as one who knows better smiles at the ignorant. "Why, Strake, that was the purser." "Poof!" ejaculated the boatswain, with a smothered laugh. "Who told you that, sir?" "That midshipman who brought us off in the boat." "A flam, sir, a flam. He was making game of you. That's the first luff." "What a shame!" thought Syd, and then he fell a thinking about the orders he gave him--not to quarrel with his messmates. "And I'm sure to quarrel as soon as I go down. No, I will not. He may say what he likes." "You speak, sir?" said the bo'sun. "No, Strake, I was thinking." "Here, you're wanted below, I think," said one of the warrant officers, coming up and speaking to the ex-gardener. "Who wants me?" "That's your boy, isn't it, that you brought aboard?" "Ay, it is." "Well, I think he has got into a bit of a row with some of the young monkeys below. Go and stop it at once." "That's Pan-y-mar gone and showed his teeth, Master Syd," whispered the bo'sun, and he trotted forward, while feeling now that he ought to go and see about his chest, and at the same time wishing that he could go forward and see what was wrong about Pan--but fearing to make some breach of discipline--Sydney once more went below. _ |
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