Crown and Anchor - Part 15
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Part 15

"No doubt of that. He's a rare chap amongst the ladies, is our friend Jellaby!" said Commander Nesbitt laughing at Mr Bitpin's imitation of Joe's favourite expression. "We must see now, though, about shortening in without any further delay, for time's getting on."

"Very good, sir," replied the lieutenant, dropping his unwonted jocularity and relapsing into his matter-of-fact official manner. "I'd better go on the fo'c's'le and join Mr Morgan, the mate of the watch, who's already there."

"Thank you, Mr Bitpin," briefly said the commander by way of dismissal; and then, bending over the p.o.o.p-rail, he called out, "Bosun's mate!

Pipe all hands to shorten cable!"

"Ay, ay, sir," answered the petty officer addressed, putting his whistle to his mouth and blowing a shrill, ear-piercing call that echoed through the ship and was taken up by his brother mates below on the main and lower decks, whose voices could be heard, in every key, gruffly shouting out fore and aft, until the sound gradually died away in the distant recesses of the hold, "All hands, shorten cable!"

Immediately, as if touched by an enchanter's wand, the quiet that had reigned on board since the decks had been washed down disappeared, and all was bustle and apparent confusion; although, it need hardly be said, order was paramount everywhere.

Such, indeed, is always on board a man-of-war, where each man knows his place and takes care to be in it as quickly as he can; especially when "all hands" are called as in the present instance.

In this case, as now, all the crew turn out and come on deck to their stations, whether it be their watch below or not.

Up, therefore, tumbled the men of the starboard watch, who had only been relieved from duty an hour before, at the same time I was first roused out by the obliging d.i.c.k Andrews.

After the men, but a little more leisurely, came the other officers not already on deck.

Amongst these were, the Honourable Digby Lanyard, our swell first lieutenant, eyegla.s.s in eye as usual, and dressed as neatly as if going to divisions, although he had only such very short notice for his toilet; Joe Jellaby, the proper officer of my watch, whose place Mr Bitpin had taken for the nonce, rubbing his eyes and only half awake from his dreams of "that chawming gurl" at the admiral's ball; Charley Gilham, our third lieutenant, a manly, blue-eyed sailor and fond of his profession, but no bookworm and bad at head-work; Mr Cheffinch, or "Gunnery Jack" as he was styled; the three other mates; and, all the middies and cadets, including Larkyns.

The latter was wroth at his ante-prandial snooze being so suddenly cut short; while Andrews, who followed in his rear, was savage at meeting his late antagonist so soon again, his friendly feelings towards whom were not increased by the foot of Larkyns giving him a "lift" up the hatchway as the pair scrambled on deck together, the cadet, unfortunately for himself, being a trifle ahead of the midshipman.

The first lieutenant, or "gla.s.s-eye" as the men called him, went out at once on the forecastle, where a number of the hands, under the superintendence of Mr Hawser, the boatswain, were already engaged rigging the fish davit and overhauling the anchor gear, with Mr Bitpin and Morgan looking on to see that everything was done properly.

"Charley" Gilham, and "Gunnery Jack," stopped down on the main deck to look after the capstan, which was soon surrounded by a squad of "jollies" under the command of one of the marine officers, Lieutenant Wagstaff, a fellow as tall as a maypole and with a headpiece of very similar material!

Mr Jellaby, however, not knowing where his deputy, Mr Bitpin, might be, came up on the quarter-deck; but he had no sooner appeared there than the commander despatched him to another station.

"Please go down at once to the lower deck, Mr Jellaby," said he, on catching sight of him. "I want you to attend to the working of the cables. See how smart you can be with those new hands we have from the foretop!"

"Very good, sir," replied "Joe," all on the alert in an instant. "I will go down directly."

Away he accordingly went; whereupon, I, having nothing special to do, and seeing everyone else appointed to some station or other, was just scuttling down the hatchway after him when the Commander called me back.

"Stop here, Mr Vernon," he cried. "I want you to act as my messenger again. Try if you can be as useful as the one they have to bring in the cable with. I suppose you know what sort of 'messenger' that is, eh?"

"Oh, yes, sir," I replied glibly enough. "It is a species of endless chain, pa.s.sing round the base of the capstan amidships, and through a stationary block called a 'controller' on the forepart of the lower deck, to which the cable is attached by nippers as it comes through the hawse-hole inboard; and, as the capstan is hove round, the messenger drags the cable up, the nippers being released and taken forward again to get a fresh grip, while the slack of the cable pa.s.ses down the deck pipes into the cable lockers below, sir."

"Very well answered, youngster," said Commander Nesbitt, approvingly, when I had reeled off this long yarn. "But, I think, it's about time for Mr Jellaby to give us the signal for heaving round now."

He liked things done smartly, did the commander, for he knew how they should be done; and, being prompt and ready in his own actions, judged others by himself.

Barely five minutes had elapsed since "all hands" had been piped, and in that interval the cable had to be unbitted and the "slip" stopping it to the deck knocked off by the blacksmith.

In addition to this, the messenger had to be brought up to the unbitted end and the nippers gripped on before those working the capstan on the main deck above could commence heaving round in order to "bring in the shekels, like unto the Israelites of old and the Hebrews of the present day," as Master Larkyns explained to me later; and yet, the commander grew impatient at the delay, in spite of all this having to be done in such a short s.p.a.ce of time.

But, at last, the signal was given.

"Heave round!" snouted Mr Jellaby from the extreme fore-end of the lower deck, where he had been bustling up the topmen and seeing to the messenger being properly attached to the cable.

"Heave round," also cried Sylvester, one of the midshipmen with him.

"Heave round," repeated the boatswain's mate further aft; while his fellow mates stationed along the hatchways above pa.s.sed on the cry, till it reached the commander on the p.o.o.p, who in his full-toned voice now transformed what was merely a signal that all was ready into an order.

This gave the required impetus to the working party on the main deck, who were waiting for this order, really to "Heave round!"

At once, the drummer and bugler, in attendance on the eager marines and after-guard, struck up with fife and drum the festive strains of "Judy Calaghan," which Corporal Macan said "did his sowl good to hear, faith!"

Then, the bars having been previously shipped by Mr Cleete, the carpenter and his crew, round tramped the "jollies," round went the capstan; and, with it, the messenger, the endless chain of which, revolving slowly, hauled the cable foot by foot inboard, the "lengths"

dropping down the deck pipes out of the way as the slack was released from the messenger, and the nippers pa.s.sed forwards again; and so on, over and over again!

I had ample opportunity for noticing this, the commander sending me on another errand down to the scene of operations almost as soon as the drumming and fifing began. This was much to my delight; for I enjoyed the strains of the jolly air played as much as Corporal Macan, as well as the steady tramp of the marines and after-guard round the capstan, the men stamping on the deck in time to the music, as if they would smash through the planking.

"Go and tell Mr Jellaby," said he, "to shorten in to two shackles."

"Ay, ay, sir."

With which response to Commander Nesbitt's order, I sprang down the after-hatchway on to the main deck, proceeding thence below to where old "Joe" and his topmen were working.

Of course I gave the lieutenant the mandate with which I had been charged; but I remaining, boylike, to watch what was going on, the commander not having told me to return immediately, though I ought to have done so.

The capstan, however, was spun round so merrily by the marines while the nippers, in the hands of the active seamen, pa.s.sed so freely; that, ere I knew how far the task had progressed, so as to be able to report to the commander the state of things, Mr Jellaby suddenly sang out "Belay!"

Instantly, the word being pa.s.sed by the boatswain's mates as before, so that the order reached the lieutenant in charge of the working party at the capstan above almost as soon as Mr Jellaby sang out from the lower deck forward, the music stopped suddenly, as if the drummer and fifer had both been shot on the spot.

With it, too, ceased the monotonous tramp, tramp, tramp of the men above our heads, which sounded through the thickness of the deck like a band of Ethiopian minstrels dancing a flap dance and marching "round the mulberry bush" afterwards, to "show their muscle," as is the wont of these negro "entertainers," so-called!

"You may go up now to the commander," said Mr Jellaby to me, as a polite hint to be off, "and tell him that the second shackle's just inside our hawse."

"Very good, sir," I replied, moving away as the blacksmith went to put the slip on the cable to secure it from running out until we were ready to weigh anchor later on. "I'll tell him at once, sir."

"All right," said Commander Nesbitt, when I reached the p.o.o.p and repeated Mr Jellaby's message, the import of which he already knew from the stoppage of all movement below, and the report of the boatswain from the forecastle that the anchor was "a short stay apeak"; when, advancing to the rail, he called out in a louder key, "Bosun's mate, pipe the hands to breakfast!"

CHAPTER TWELVE.

BELOW IN THE GUNROOM.

"Well!" exclaimed little Tommy Mills, a little later, when he and I, with young Morgan, the mate and Ned Anstruther, on being relieved by the starboard watch, all went down to the gunroom and sat down to have our breakfast, "I call this a beastly shame."

"Hullo," said Popplethorne, one of the other middies, looking up from the plate on which he was busily engaged; while several other fellows, similarly employed ceased operations likewise, staring at Tommy in astonishment. "What's up?"

"Nothing's up, but everything seems down," replied my little chum in an aggrieved tone. "I don't see a crumb left for a poor, hungry chap; no bloaters, no marmalade, no nothing. When I was in the _Ill.u.s.trious_, if they did grind a fellow a bit, one always had something decent to eat, at all events!"

"First come, first served," mumbled Phil Plumper, the senior mate of our watch, who had his mouth full and was tucking in some species of "burgoo," or porridge with much gusto. He was an awfully fat fellow and looked just like a boiled lobster bursting out of its sh.e.l.l, for the b.u.t.tons of his jacket were continually carrying away at odd moments.

"If you don't look out for yourself on board ship you'll find n.o.body 'll look after you; and, you'll come off _minus_!"

"That'll never be your case," retorted Tommy, with a sn.i.g.g.e.r. "Judging by appearances, I should say your condition represents a _plus_ quant.i.ty!"