The Second String. Gould Nat

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ chief officer put his head in at the door of his cabin and said —

      "It's come, sir."

      "What's come?" asked Job.

      "The consignment from the office."

      "Good lord, you don't say so. What is it?"

      "Cases. Tinned stuff and bottled stuff."

      Captain Seagrave went out to inspect.

      Piled up on the deck were over a dozen cases, and his practised eye saw at a glance they were of the right sort.

      "Any message with them?"

      "None, except that they were sent with Mr. Sharp's compliments to Captain Seagrave. How did you work it?" asked Slack.

      "I gave him a pretty lively half hour. I reckon he'll not be sorry when we are at sea. I told him I had made my will, and left a written statement behind as to the state of the 'Golden Land.'"

      Sam Slack laughed heartily.

      "How did he take it?" he asked.

      "Solemnly, he didn't care for the medicine."

      "And I got a fiver out of him. Skipper, something's going to happen. Sharp's been converted."

      "Perhaps he has; but he'll be no credit to the sect he patronises. They'll have to lock up the collection boxes pretty quick."

      The chief engineer walked solemnly round the cases as he saw them on deck.

      "Where are these from?"

      "The office."

      "Is it rat poison?"

      "No, it's a present from Sharp to the skipper."

      Mac sat down; the blow was too much for him.

      "A present from the office?" he said slowly. "You're certain it's not explosives?"

      "She'll go down soon enough without any assistance of that kind," said the chief officer.

      "Does he know about it?" and he pointed towards the captain's cabin.

      "Oh, yes; he worked the oracle yesterday."

      "He actually pumped some of the milk of human kindness into Sharp's wretched body?"

      "That is so."

      "Then I'll go and shake hands with him," said Mac, and went to the cabin. He stood looking at the skipper solemnly, and Job said —

      "What is it, Mac?"

      "I want to shake hands with you, captain. I'll consider it an honour."

      The skipper held out his hand, wondering what it was all about.

      "I congratulate you," said Mac. "I did not think any man breathing could have done it."

      "Done what?" asked Job.

      "Tapped Sharp," said Mac, as he walked quietly away, and Job Seagrave roared with laughter.

      CHAPTER SEVENTH

       WEATHERING THE STORM

      The "Golden Land" started on her voyage to Fremantle with Jack Redland and Harry Marton installed on board in the most comfortable cabin in the ship.

      "I'd have given you mine with pleasure," said Job, "but although it's pleasant and airy, it's difficult to manage. You want to know it thoroughly or you come to grief. In a rough sea you stand a good chance of being washed out if the door is left open, and you might forget to shut it."

      Jack Redland said they were quite satisfied with their present quarters, and had no desire to turn the skipper or anyone else out.

      He had bid a hurried farewell to Sir Lester and Winnie, and the parting was keener than he anticipated.

      Left alone with the girl he was sorely tempted to ask her to be his wife, but he knew it would not be fair to bind her in any way. He saw by her face that she was deeply moved, and his heart beat high with hope. She might wait for him. She might be true to the unspoken love they both felt. If he made a fortune in a few years all might be well, but he knew he must hurry and leave no stone unturned if he meant to win her.

      "Take this, Jack," she said, handing him a small miniature of herself, which her father had had painted not long before. "It will remind you of me in the distant land, and I hope, make you feel you have a friend whose thoughts are with you at all times."

      "It is the greatest treasure I have," he said, and then, unable to control himself longer, he took her in his arms and kissed her. In another moment he was gone, hurrying from the house, almost afraid of what he had done; but as he turned round to wave farewell, he saw her standing there, both arms outstretched, as though she would call him back at the last moment. He knew he would never forget that picture or the kiss he had given her. Winnie was sorrowful, and yet happy. Jack had betrayed himself, and she knew he loved her.

      "Poor Jack," she murmured, "I will wait for him until he returns, no matter how many years it may be."

      She told her father, and he smiled. Jack was out of the way, and she might forget. He could afford to be generous; at the same time he sympathised with them, and had financial matters been other than they were, nothing would have pleased him better than to have the young man for his son-in-law.

      "I gave him my miniature, I hope you do not mind," she said. "I wished him to have some remembrance of me."

      "You did quite right; nothing could have pleased him more, and you can have another painted," he replied.

      So the "Golden Land" steamed on her way, parting the lovers as the ocean has parted thousands for ages past.

      Although an old boat, she acted fairly well, and was not quite so coffin-like as her skipper described her.

      They coaled at Port Said, where Jack and his friend went ashore, to find the usual cosmopolitan crowd, as dirty and unclean as ever. They were not sorry to be on board again, and when they left the Red Sea behind and steamed out into the wide ocean, the refreshing breezes invigorated and put new life into them. The sea air seemed to tell of hope and fortune, and Harry Marton especially was not at all sorry he had left London far behind.

      "We'll have a night ashore at Colombo, young men," said the skipper the day before they arrived at Ceylon. "There's plenty to see, and it will be a change for you; and it's our last port of call."

      They were nothing loath, and when the ship entered the harbour she was quickly surrounded with all manner of small boats, of various shapes and sizes, manned by noisy shouting natives, clamouring for custom.

      Job Seagrave was not long in putting things in order, and leaving the chief officer in charge, they were pulled ashore by a couple of villainous looking dark-skinned natives.

      "A nice couple of niggers to row respectable white men," said Job.

      One of the men grinned. He evidently had some idea of the nature of the remark.

      "You look uglier than ever now," said Job. "Take my advice, and keep your smile for dark nights; it's far too powerful for daylight."

      They СКАЧАТЬ