Wild Life in the Land of the Giants: A Tale of Two Brothers. Stables Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ we reached shore safely, they would send a regiment or two of soldiers at the very least to pursue us.

      The old Thunderbolt, when she ran away, “showed a pair of clean heels,” so I heard that tug-boat fellow say, because wind and tide was hurrying her on. But it was no such easy matter to get her back; so the whole morning had fled before she was once more alongside her moorings. Then the bustle and din and the loud talking were shocking, for nearly an hour.

      Mattie – I was so glad of this – got very sleepy, so we took her into Mrs Moore’s room and placed her on the bed. She bade us both good-night prettily, but sleepily, and I was glad of this too, for the “good-nights” did for the “good-byes.” Ah! little did Mattie think we were going to leave her, but she did not feel the tear that fell on her beautiful hair as I bent over her. It was best. After this I suppose it was activity that made us feel brave. We had to look sharp, I assure you. We hurried into our cabin – ours, alas! no more – and exchanged our hats for caps, and put on our monkey jackets – our winter ones. This would not look odd, because there was quite a raw air over the water. We went and packed our one portmanteau, taking nothing lumbersome, and no books, except our little Bibles that mamma had given us.

      Then I sat down and wrote a letter, a very brief one, to Mattie. It only said, in a boy’s scrawling hand —

      “Dearest Mattie, – Please always pray for Jack and poor Jill. – Your loving and affectionate Jack.”

      I folded this up, and glided away into the child’s room and laid it on her pillow. She was sound asleep, but I kissed her brow. If I had stopped to look at her, I believe my heart would have broken in two.

      Jill was waiting with the bag, and the difficulty was now to get a boat. We had thought of getting into the dinghy and paying a man to return it. It was better we didn’t.

      I opened the port. The fresh morning air blew in and calmed me, and just at that moment, as if a good fairy had sent him, a shore boatman rounded the stern of the hulk, and was close beneath us.

      “Boatman,” I said, “can you take us on shore?”

      He looked about him a bit and nodded. Then I dropped my bag, and he caught it so neatly.

      “We’ll get in from a lower port,” I said.

      The man nodded again. Off Jill and I went down below to poor Tom Morley’s quarters. Nobody saw us, for everybody was on the upper deck forward, and making a terrible din. In three minutes more we were well away from the ship, but I made Jill lie down for fear of the shot and shell and shrapnel which I expected to be flying about our ears soon, and I myself pulled up the neck of my monkey jacket.

      The man rowed right away up the harbour, and, to my intense joy, we had soon put a wall between us and the ships of war.

      My heart had been thumping violently, and I dare say so was poor Jill’s.

      When we landed, and I was diving for my purse to pay the mail, he held up his hand deprecatingly.

      “Look here, youngsters,” he said, “I was a boy myself once. You’ve got into a little scrape, and you’re going to stop away from school till the little storm blows over. I won’t take a penny for this job, and I’ll take you both on board free and for nothing. My name’s Joe Saunders; you can ask for me.”

      Then we thanked him and shook hands with him, with the tears in our eyes – in fact I think some rolled over. Next moment we were off and away.

      We walked very fast and took the quietest streets. We met some marines, and our hearts began to beat again; but they hardly looked at us.

      When we had gone some distance we were on high ground, and paused to look back. We could see the forest of masts rising over the walls and yards, and the smoke curling up from the chimneys. And as we gazed two bells rang out almost simultaneously from all the ships, while immediately afterwards, sweet and clear in the still morning air, rose the music of the band on the flag-ship’s quarter-deck.

      It was very beautiful, but to us inexpressibly saddening.

      We hurried on now, and were soon thankful to find ourselves out in the green country, with music of another kind falling on our ears – the happy songs of the birds.

      We did not stay to listen then, however; we were in far too great a hurry to put as many miles as the day would admit of between us and the scenes of our wild piratical escapades. For we had not a doubt that, as soon as the Thunderbolt was once safely moored, the hue and cry would go out for the capture of the daring pirates who had threatened to blow one of Her Majesty’s flag-ships, with a tame admiral on board of it, out of the water.

      So we went on, and on, and on, bearing away to the north, the country becoming wilder and more desolate at every turn of the road. When it was long past midday we began to feel very hungry, and, spying smoke rising from a little roadside inn not far off, we determined to halt and refresh ourselves.

      A very quiet-looking, motherly sort of woman showed us into a neat little parlour, and making her acquainted with our desires, she went out and soon returned with a dinner fit for a king. Indeed I am sure that King Charles, when he was in hiding, did not fare half so well. Here were new potatoes, and boiled bacon and beans, and a jug of table beer, to say nothing of the white cloth and the wild flowers. What more could a king desire?

      We felt exceedingly comfortable after dinner, and much bolder. Indeed we felt so far braced up that I determined forthwith to write to Auntie Serapheema and our darling mother. We had brought with us our little writing-cases, so, with Jill looking over my shoulder, I began writing.

      Auntie’s letter did not take long. We expressed our sorrow, thanked her for all her kindness, and told her we were determined to be sailors if not captured; and that we hoped one day to return to England laden with jewels and gold, and come back and live happy ever after in Trafalgar Cottage. We sent our love to Sally and Robert, and our very dearest love to little Mattie; and we signed the letter with our names in full.

      That last was a stroke of policy, we thought.

      Next we commenced writing to papa and mamma. I wrote letter after letter and tore them all up, carefully stowing away the pieces in our bag, lest if left about they might lead to our capture.

      I hardly remember what sort of a tear-blotched, loving, and penitent epistle the last was, but perhaps it would have answered as well as a longer one. Just then a postman hove in sight. He stopped to refresh himself, and I ran out and gave him the letters. I had not even forgotten to put the correct number of stamps on poor mamma’s.

      So we had crossed the Rubicon.

      But having sent the letter to mamma, a load appeared to have fallen off my mind, all in a heap as it were.

      When we asked the landlady how much was to pay, she looked at us and said, “Sixpence each.”

      “Which way are you going?” she added.

      “North,” I answered.

      “You’ll be on a walking tour, young sirs?”

      I nodded.

      “Well, you better not walk farther the night. There isn’t another house now for seven miles. You’re on the moor. I can give you a clean, nice bed, and breakfast any time you like in the morning.”

      I consulted with Jill and we concluded to stay.

      When СКАЧАТЬ