"Arrah, sure now, Misther Gray-ham, arn't ye sorry ye iver came to say, at all at all?"

I should like to have pitched something at him, although I knew what he would say the moment he opened his mouth, with that comical grin of his and the cunning wink of his left eye.

"No," I cried as courageously as I was able under the circ.u.mstances, "I'm not sorry, I tell you, in spite of all that has happened, and when I get better I'll pay you out for making fun of me when I'm ill!"

"Begorra don't say that now, me darlint," said he, grinning more than ever. "Arrah, though, me bhoy, ye look as if ye'd been toorned insoide out, loike them injy-rubber divils childer has to play wid. 'Dade an'

I'd loike to say ye sprooce an' hearty ag'in; but ownly kape aisy an'

ye'll be all roight in toime. D'ye fale hoongry yit?"

"Hungry!" I screamed, ill again at the very thought of eating. "Go away, do, and leave me alone--o-oh!"

And then I was worse than ever, and seemed afterwards to have no heart, or head, or stomach left, or legs, or arms, or anything.

The boatswain did not forget me though, in spite of his fun at my expense; and he must have spoken to Ching w.a.n.g again about me, for the Chinaman came to the cabin after giving the men their breakfast at eight bells, bringing me a pannikin of hot coffee, his panacea for every woe.

"Hi, lilly pijjin, drinkee dis chop chop," said he, holding the pannikin to my mouth. "Makee tummy tummy number one piecee!"

I could not swallow much of the liquid; but the drop or two that I took did me good; for, after Ching w.a.n.g had gone away I fell asleep, not waking till the afternoon, when, the ship being steadier, I managed to scramble out of my bunk and made a late appearance on deck, feeling decidedly weak but considerably better than in the morning.

"Hullo, found your sea-legs already?" cried Mr Mackay on my crawling up the p.o.o.p ladder. "I didn't expect to see you out for another day at least."

"I don't feel all right yet, sir," said I, and I'm sure my pale face must have shown this without any explanation; "but, I didn't like to give way to being ill, thinking it best to fight against it."

"Quite right, my boy," he replied. "I've never been sea-sick myself, not even the first time I went afloat; but, I've seen a good many suffering from the complaint, and I have noticed that the more they humoured it, the worse they became. You're getting used to the motion of the ship by this time--eh?"

"Yes, sir," said I, holding on tightly, however, to the bulwarks as I spoke, the Silver Queen just then giving a lurch to starboard that nearly pitched me overboard. "I'll soon be able to stand up like you, sir."

"Well, at all events, you've got plenty of pluck, Graham; and that's the sort of material for making a good sailor. You were asking me last night about the course of the ship, if your sickness hasn't put our talk out of your head. How far do you think we've run?"

"A good way, I suppose, sir," I answered, "with that gale of wind."

"Yes, pretty so so," he said. "When the cap'en took the sun at noon to- day we were in lat.i.tude 48 degrees 17 minutes north and longitude just 8 degrees 20 west, or about two hundred miles off Ushant, which we're to the southward of; so, we've run a goodish bit from our point of departure."

"Oh, I remember all about that, sir," I cried, getting interested, as he unfolded the chart which was lying on top of the cabin skylight and showed me the vessel's position. "And we've come so far already?"

"Yes, all that," replied he laughing as he moved his finger on the chart, pointing to another spot at least a couple of inches away from the first pencil-mark; "and we ought to fetch about here, my boy, at noon to-morrow--that is, if this wind holds good and no accident happens to us, please G.o.d."

The ship at this time was going a good ten knots, he further told me, carrying her topgallants and courses again; for, although the sea was rough and covered with long rolling waves, that curled over their ridges into valleys of foam like half-melted snow, and it was blowing pretty well half a gale now from the north-west, to which point the wind had hauled round, it was keeping steady in that quarter, for the barometer remained high, and the Silver Queen, heading south-west by south, was bending well over so that her lee-side was flush almost with the swelling water. She was racing along easily, and presented a perfect picture, with the sun bringing out her white clouds of canvas in stronger contrast against the clear blue sky overhead and tumbling ocean around, and making the gla.s.s of the skylight and bits of bra.s.s-work about on the deck gleam with a golden radiance as it slowly sank below the horizon, a great globe of fire like a molten ma.s.s of metal on our weather bow, the vessel keeping always on the same starboard tack, for she wore round as the wind shifted.

Oh, yes, we were going; and so, evidently, Captain Gillespie thought when he came up the companion presently and took his place alongside Mr Mackay on the p.o.o.p.

"This is splendid!" said he, rubbing his hands as usual and addressing the first mate, while I crept away further aft, holding on to the bulwarks to preserve my footing, the deck being inclined at such a sharp angle from the ship heeling over with the wind. "I don't know when the old barquey ever went so free."

"Nor I, sir," replied the other with equal enthusiasm; "she's fairly outdoing herself. We never had such a voyage before, I think, sir."

"No," said the captain. "A good start, a fairish wind and plenty of it, a decent crew as far as I can judge as yet, and every prospect of a good voyage. What more can a man wish for?"

"Nothing, sir."

"And I forgot, Mackay, while speaking of our luck, for you know I like to be particular, and when I say a thing I mean a thing--no stowaways on board!"

"True, sir," responded the first mate with a laugh, knowing the captain's great abhorrence of these uninvited and unwelcome pa.s.sengers.

"I think it's the first voyage we've never been troubled with one."

"Aye, aye, they're getting afraid of me, Mackay, that's the reason,"

said Captain Gillespie chuckling at this. "They've heard tell of the way I treat all such swindling rascals, and know that when I say a thing I mean a thing!"

His satisfaction, however, was short-lived; for, just then, several confused cries and a general commotion was heard forward.

"Hullo!" cried the captain, staggering up to the p.o.o.p rail and looking towards the bows, "what's the row there?"

"Bedad, sorr," shouted back the boatswain, yelling out the words as loudly as he could, like Captain Gillespie, and putting his hands to his mouth to prevent the wind carrying them away seaward, "there's a did man in the forepake!"

CHAPTER NINE.

OUR STOWAWAY TUMBLES INTO LUCK.

"A man in the forepeak--eh?" yelled out Captain Gillespie, all his complacency gone in a moment, his voice sounding so loudly that it deadened the moaning of the wind through the shrouds and the creaking of the ship's timbers, whose groans mingled with the heavy thud of the waves against her bows as she breasted them, and the angry splash of the baffled billows as they fell back into the bubbling, hissing cauldron of broken water through which the n.o.ble vessel plunged and rolled, spurning it beneath her keel in her majesty and might. "A man in the forepeak, and dead, is he, bosun? I'll bet I'll soon quicken him into life again with a rope's-end!"

He muttered these last words as he hastily scrambled down the p.o.o.p ladder and along the weather side of the main-deck towards the forecastle, making his way forward with an activity which might have shamed a younger man.

Mr Mackay at once tumbled after him, and I followed too, as quickly as I could get along and the motion of the ship would allow me, being buffeted backwards and forwards like a shuttlec.o.c.k between the bulwarks and deck-house in my progress onwards, as well as drenched by the spray, which came hurtling inboards over the main-chains from windward as it was borne along by the breeze, wetting everything amidships and soaking the main-sail as if buckets of water were continually poured over it, although the air was quite dry and the sun still shining full upon its swelling surface.

"Begorra, he's as did as a door-nail, sorr," I heard Tim Rooney saying on my getting up at last to the others, who were grouped with a number of the crew round the small hatchway under the forecastle leading down to the forehold below, the cover of which had been slipped off leaving the dark cavity open. "I ownly filt him jist move once, whin I kicked him wid me fut unknowns to me, as I wor sayin' about stowin' the cable."

"Dead men don't move," replied the captain sharply, the hands round grinning at the boatswain's Irish bull. "Some of you idlers there, go down and fetch this stowaway up and let us see what he's made of."

The boatswain, spurred by Captain Gillespie's rejoinder, was the first to dive down again into the dark receptacle, where he had previously been searching to find room for stowing the cable, the anchor having been hoisted inboard and the chain unshackled on the ship now getting to sea; and, Tim was quickly followed below by a couple of the other hands, as many as could comfortably squeeze into the narrow s.p.a.ce at their command.

"On deck, there!" presently called out Tim Rooney from beneath, his voice sounding hollow and far off.

"Some av ye bind owver the coamin' av the hatch an' hilp us to raise the poor divil!"

A dozen eager hands were immediately stretched downwards; and, the next instant, between them all they lifted out of the forepeak the limp body of a ragged youth, who seemed to be either already dead or dying, not a movement being discernible in the inert, motionless figure as it was laid down carefully by the men on the deck, looking like a corpse.

Captain Gillespie, however, was not deceived by these appearances.

"Sluice some water over his face," cried he, after leaning down and putting his hand on his chest; "he's only swooned away or shamming, for he's breathing all right. Look, his shirt is moving up and down now."

"I think he must be pretty far gone with starvation," observed Mr Mackay, bending over the unconscious lad, too, and scrutinising his pinched features and bony frame. "He could only have stowed himself down there when we were loading in the docks, and it is now over three days since we cleared out and started down the river."

"Humph!" growled Captain Gillespie, "the confounded skulker has only brought it on himself, and sarve him right, too."

"Shame!" groaned one of the men, a murmur of reproach running round amongst the rest, in sympathy with this expression of opinion against such an inhuman speech, making the captain look up and c.o.c.k his ears and sniff with his long nose, trying to find out who had dared to call him to account. But, of course, he was unable to do so; and, after glaring at those near as if he could have "eaten them without salt," as the saying goes, he bent his eyes down again on Mr Mackay and the boatswain. These were trying to resuscitate the unfortunate stowaway in a somewhat more humane way than the captain had suggested; for, while the mate opened his collar and shirt and lifted his head on his knee, Tim Rooney sprinkled his face smartly with water from the bucket that had been dipped over the side and filled.

At first, Tim's efforts were unsuccessful, causing Captain Gillespie to snort with impatience at his delicate mode of treatment; but, the third or fourth dash of the cold water at last restored the poor fellow to consciousness, his eyelids quivering and then opening, while he drew a deep long breath like a sigh.