Wild Adventures round the Pole. Stables Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ the feelings of the others. Is not this true friendship?

      But as to what is called “chaff,” they had all learned long ago to be proof against that – I’m not sure they did not even like it; Rory did, I know; he said so one day; and on Allan asking him his reason, “My reason is it?” says Rory; “sure enough, boys, chaffing metres with laughing; where you find the chaff you find the laugh, and laughing is better to a man than cod-liver oil. And that’s my reason!”

      And Rory’s romantic sayings and doings were oftentimes the subject of a considerable deal of chaff and fun; so, too, was what the young Irishman was pleased to call Ralph’s English “stolidity” and Allan’s Scottish fire and intensity of patriotism; but never did the blood of one of our boys get hot, never did their lips tighten in anger or their cheeks pale with vexation.

      Just on one occasion – which I now record lest I forget it – was boy Rory, as he was still affectionately called, very nearly losing his temper under a rattling fire of chaff from Allan and Ralph, who were in extra good spirits. It happened months after they had sailed in the Arrandoon. All at once that day Rory grew suddenly quiet, and the smile that still remained on his face was only round the lips, and didn’t ripple round the eyes. It was a sad kind of a smile; then he jumped up and ran away from the table.

      “We’ve offended him,” said Allan, looking quite serious.

      “I hope not,” said Ralph, growing serious in turn.

      “I’ll go and look him up;” this from Allan.

      “No, that you won’t!” put in McBain.

      “Leave boy Rory alone; he’ll come to presently.”

      Meanwhile, ridiculous as it may seem, Rory had sped away forward to the dispensary, where he found the doctor. “Doctor, dear,” cried Rory, “give me a blue pill at once – a couple of them, if you like, for sure it isn’t well I am!”

      “Oh!” said the surgeon, “liver a bit out of order, eh?”

      “Liver!” cried Rory; “I know by the nasty temper that’s on me that there isn’t a bit of liver left in me worth mentioning! There now, give me the pills.”

      The doctor laughed, but Rory had his bolus; then he came aft again, smiling, confessing to his comrades what a ninny he had very nearly been making of himself. Just like Rory!

      The bearing of our young heroes towards Captain McBain was invariably respectful and affectionate; they both loved and admired him, and, indeed, he was worthy of all their esteem. In wealth there is power, but in wisdom worth, and Ralph, Rory, and Allan felt this truth if they never expressed it. McBain had really raised himself to the position he now held; he was a living proof that —

      “Whate’er a man dares he can do.”

      I will not deny, however that McBain possessed a little genius to begin with; but here is old Ap, once but a poor boat-builder, with never a spark of genius in him, superintending the construction of a noble ship. In him we have an example of industry and perseverance pure and simple.

      The Arrandoon made speedy progress on the stocks, and the anxious day was near at hand when she would leave her native timbers, and slide gracefully and auspiciously it was to be hoped, into the smooth waters of the Clyde.

      That day came at last, and with it came thousands to view the launch. With it came Mrs McGregor and Allan’s sister; and the latter was to break the tiny phial of wine and name the ship!

      On the platform beneath, and closely adjoining the bows of the Arrandoon, were numerous gentlemen and ladies; conspicuous among the former was Rory. He was full of earnest and pleasant excitement. Conspicuous among the latter was Helen Edith. She certainly never looked more lovely than she did now. The ceremony she was about to engage in, in which, indeed, she was chief actress, was just a trifle too much for her delicate nerves, and as she stood, bouquet in hand, with a slight flush on her cheek and a sparkle in her eye, with head slightly bent, she looked like a bride at the altar. Rory stood near her; perhaps his vicinity comforted her, as did his remarks, to which, however, he met with but little response.

      I am beginning to think that Rory loved this sweet child; if he did it was a love that was purely Platonic, and it needed be none the less sincere for all that. As for Helen Edith – but hark! A gun rings out from the deck of the Arrandoon causing every window in the vicinity to rattle again, and the steeples to nod. The gallant ship moves off down the slip slowly – slowly – slowly, yes, slowly but steadily, swerving neither to starboard nor larboard, quicker now faster still. Will she float? Our heroes’ hearts stand still. McBain is pale and breathes not. She slows, she almost stops, now she is over the hitch and on again, on – on – and on – and into the water. Hurrah! You should have heard that cheer, and Rory shakes hands with Helen Edith, and compliments her, and positively there are tears in the foolish boy’s eyes. There was a deal of hand-shaking, I can assure you, after the launch, and a deal of joy expressed, and if the truth be told, more than one prayer breathed for the future safety of the Arrandoon and her gallant crew. There was lunch after launch in the saloon of the new yacht, at which Allan’s mother presided with the same quiet dignity she was wont to maintain at the castle that gave the ship its name.

      McBain made a speech, and a good one, too, after Ralph had spoken a few words. Poor Ralph! speaking was certainly not his strong point. But there was no hesitancy about McBain, and no nervousness either, and during its delivery he stood bolt upright in his place, as straight as an arrow, and his words were manly and straightforward. Allan felt proud of his foster-father. But Rory came next. For once in his life he hadn’t the slightest intention of making anybody laugh. But because he tried not to, he did; and when Irish bull after Irish bull came rattling out, “Och!” thinks Rory to himself, “seriousness isn’t my forte after all;” then he simply gave himself rein, and expressed himself so comically that there was not a dry eye in the room, for tears come with laughing as well as weeping.

      There was a deal to be done to the Arrandoon– in her, on her, and around her – after she was launched, before she was ready; but it would serve no good purpose and only waste time to describe her completion, for we long to be “steam up” and away to sea en route for the starry north.

      She was a gallant sight, the Arrandoon, as she stood away out to sea, past the rocky shores of Bute, bound south on her trial trip by the measured mile. Fifteen hundred tons burden was she, with tall and tapering masts: lower, main, topgallant, and royal; not one higher; no star-gazers, sky-scrapers, or moon-rakers; she wouldn’t have to rake much for the wind in the stormy seas they were going to. Then there was the funnel, such a funnel as a man with an eye in his head likes to see, not a mere pipe of a thing, but a great wide armful of a funnel, with the tiniest bit of rake on it; so too had the masts, though the Arrandoon did not look half so saucy as the Snowbird. The Arrandoon had more solidity about her, and more soberness and staidness, as became her – a ship about to be pitted against dangers unknown.

      Her figure-head was the bust of a fair and beautiful girl.

      That day, on her trial trip, the ladies were on board; and Rory made this remark to Helen Edith:

      “The fair image on our bows, Helen, will soon be gazing wistfully north.”

      “Ah! you seem to long for that,” said Helen, “but,” she added archly, “mamma and I look forward to the time when she will be gazing just as wistfully south again.”

      Rory laughed, and the conversation assumed a livelier tone.

      Steamers, I always think, are very similar in one way to colts, СКАЧАТЬ