Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea > This page
Syd Belton: The Boy who would not go to Sea, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 29 |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. The sea was terrific when Sydney took his first look-out next morning, after a good restful sleep, and he felt terribly low-spirited, for he was experienced enough to see that Mr Dallas was in a very low and dangerous state. He was feverish, and lay wild-eyed and strange, evidently recognising no one, but talking in a low, muttering way. "It's too much to be on my shoulders," Syd said to himself, despondently, as he took off his hat, and stood letting the cool morning air fan his forehead. "Mr Dallas wanting a surgeon, Terry setting me at defiance, the men half mutinous, and the whole charge of everything on my shoulders." One of his remarks was hardly fair, for the men greeted him with a smile and a cheery aspect every time he went near them, and after their breakfast worked most energetically to make the improvements suggested overnight, so that about sundown Strake smiled in his grim way, and touched his hat. "There, sir," he said; "the captain may come back and land now if he likes. I shouldn't be ashamed to show him round." "No, Strake; everything is beautifully neat." "Yes, sir; decks cleared for action. We're ready for anybody now." "Have you looked in on the lieutenant lately?" "Half-hour ago, sir. Mr Roylance was with him, watching closely." "Well, don't you think he looks very bad?" "Yes, sir; purty well. Bad as one's officer could look to be alive." "And you talk of it in that cool way." "Well, sir, how am I to talk? He's no worse than lots more I've seen." "But do you think he's dying?" "Nay: not he, sir. Lots of life in him yet. And look here, sir, what do you say to that?" "A bit of biscuit?" "Yes, sir; that's it. Monkey, sir, or a bear?" "I don't understand you, Strake." "Picked it up, sir, just where we tried to catch him last night. I'm going to lie wait for that gentleman, and give him a pill." "Oh, never mind about that, Strake; there's so much else to think about. I've been in twice to Mr Dallas, and he doesn't know me." "Dessay not, sir. Lost a deal of blood, you see. He's all right, I'm sure. Why, I've seen lots o' men worse than he, ever so much; legs off, both on 'em, an' an arm took off fust by a shot and then afterwards by the doctors, and they've come round." "But, Strake--" "Now, look here, dear lad," whispered the boatswain, speaking earnestly. "I wouldn't say what I do if I didn't think it. Mr Dallas is going to be purty bad, I dessay, for a month, but he'll come round." "But I feel, Strake, as if I have done wrong by him." "Nat'rally, dear lad; but I feel that you haven't." "If I could only think that." "Oh, well then, I'll soon make you. Let me ask you a question, sir. S'pose you hadn't touched Mr Dallas?" "Well?" "Nobody else would, of course. We didn't know how." "I suppose not." "Very well then, dear lad, what would have happened?" "I'm afraid--he would have died." "And how soon, sir?" "He would have bled to death. I can't say how soon. Before night." "Exactly, sir. Well, then, you came and set to work in a way as made every Jack here feel as if he'd do anything for you, sir; and it's to-morrow now, and the lufftenant arn't dead." "No, Strake; not yet." "Nor arn't going to be; what more do you want? Come, rouse up, my lad, and hold your head higher. Don't be skeered. Let go at us; call us swabs and lubbers, anything you can lay your tongue to; the men 'll like it from you. And as to Mr Terry, as has gone up where I planted the flagstaff this morning, don't you fret about him. He daren't hardly say his soul's his own." "You've planted the flagstaff?" "Yes, sir; right on the top, fastened it down between some rocks, and got guys out to other rocks. I didn't hyste the colours, for this wind would tear the bunting all to rags." Sydney took a few steps to one side. "Can't see it from here, sir, or you'd see Mr Terry too, getting hisself such a blowing as never was. He's a-looking out for the frigate, him too as studies navigation with the master. He ought to know better." "What do you mean?" "As we shan't see the _Sirius_ for a week to come, if we do then." "Then I must go on as if we were to stay some time," thought Syd; and that day was spent in adding to the comfort of their quarters and the security of the magazine, in case rain should follow the gale of wind. Another stormy day followed, and toward night, after spending some time by the lieutenant's bedside, Sydney was relieved by Roylance, Terry having made no offer to aid, and when asked by Roylance, having replied that he was under arrest, and exonerated from such duties. "What's the weather going to be, bo'sun?" said Syd, meeting that officer on the upper platform. "Don't see no prospect o' change, sir." "Because as soon as we possibly can, I want the rock properly gone over by a strong party, so that we can make sure that there is no other landing-place. We may run down that bear of yours." "Yes, sir. He was here again last night." "Did you see it?" "No, sir; or I should have spoke." "No, no; unless the beast proves dangerous, I will not have it shot." "But the beggar carried off a whole lot o' biscuit last night, sir, and a lump o' cold junk." "Well, that must be stopped at any rate. What do you say to half a dozen men being told off to lie in wait for the brute to-night?" "No, sir; it's what do you?" "I say yes," said Syd, and the boatswain brightened up. "With pistols, of course, sir?" "No, certainly not," replied Syd, decidedly. "If we have firing in the dark there may be some accident. Select five men. There will be yourself, Mr Roylance, and I shall be there too. Eight of us ought to hold him if he comes." "And come he will, sir. You'll go over the island to-morrow?" "Yes." "But you didn't say you'd have another thing found." "What?" "Water, sir. If the _Sirius_ is going to leave us here, water must be had." That was a serious matter. With the gale blowing there was nothing to mind as to the sun, but Syd felt that the heat would be felt terribly as soon as the wind sank, and with no slight feeling of uneasiness he went to his rough quarters, looked into the hospital, where the lieutenant lay muttering in his delirium, and beckoned Roylance to come and join in the meal. "Takes one's appetite away to see that poor fellow lying there," said Roylance, summoning one of the men to take his place. "But we must eat to work," said Syd, firmly. "Here's Terry, I'll ask him to come and victual. I hate seeing him keeping aloof. Mr Terry, coffee is served. Will you join us?" Terry started a little, and his face relaxed into a smile. "Yes," he said quietly, "I am very hungry." The ice was broken, and the three young fellows sat down to their rough meal, one which was, however, thoroughly enjoyed--Terry seeming quite to have forgotten the trouble that had caused the estrangement. But Roylance had not, and that night he said to Syd-- "Don't trust him." "Trust whom?" "Terry. I may be wrong, but if ever a fellow's eyes looked one thing and meant another, his did this evening." "Fancy. He's beaten, and he has given in, and so, I dare say, we shall be fairly good friends for the future." "Perhaps so," said Roylance, dryly; "but I say, don't trust him all the same. Keep on your guard." "Can't. Impossible; and I couldn't go on suspecting every one I saw." "No, not every one--this one." "Never mind that. Don't suppose I shall have any cause to distrust him." "I hope you will not," said Roylance, prophetically. "Come along." "Where? It will be impossible to stand out of shelter." "We are not going to. Ah, here is Strake. Now then, have you got your men ready?" "Ay, ay, sir; but won't you alter your mind about the pistols?" "Certainly not. Use your fists, and take the creature, whatever it is, alive." "Ay, ay, sir," said Strake; and leading the way down to the lower gun, the men were posted among the rocks, and in the midst of the utter darkness, with the dull roar of wind and sea coming in a deep murmur, the watch was commenced. _ |
||