The Greatest Sea Adventure Novels: 30+ Maritime Novels, Pirate Tales & Seafaring Stories. R. M. Ballantyne

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      “Persecutors, Glynn!” exclaimed Martha; “to whom do you refer?”

      “To the police of this good city.”

      “Police!” echoed the captain, regarding his young friend seriously, while the doctor and the first mate and Tim Rokens listened in some surprise.

      “Why, the fact is,” said Glynn, “that I have just escaped from the hands of the police, and if it had not been that I was obliged to make a very wide détour, in order to reach this house without being observed, I should have been here long ago.”

      “Boy, boy, your hasty disposition will bring you into serious trouble one of these days,” said the captain, shaking his head. “What mischief have you been about?”

      “Ay, there you go—it’s my usual fate,” cried Glynn, laughing. “If I chance to get into a scrape, you never think of inquiring whether it was my fault or my misfortune. This time, however, it was my misfortune, and if Miss Dunning will oblige me with a cup of tea, I’ll explain how it happened.

      “Little more than two hours ago I left the ship to come here to tea, as I had promised to do. Nikel Sling, the long-legged cook you engaged this morning, went ashore with me. As we walked up the street together, I observed a big porter passing along with a heavy deal plank on his shoulder. The street was somewhat narrow and crowded at that part, and Sling had turned to look in at a shop-window just as the big fellow came up. The man shouted to my shipmate to get out o’ the way, but the noise in the street prevented him from hearing. Before I could turn to touch the cook’s arm, the fellow uttered an oath and ran the end of the plank against his head. Poor Sling was down in an instant. Before I well knew what I was about, I hit the porter between the eyes and down he went with a clatter, and the plank above him. In a moment three policemen had me by the collar. I tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen. As I was being hurried away to the lock-up, it flashed across me that I should not only lose my tea and your pleasant society this evening, but be prevented from sailing to-morrow, so I gave a sudden twist, tripped up the man on my left, overturned the one on my right, and bolted.”

      “They ran well, the rascals, and shouted like maniacs, but I got the start of ’em, dived down one street, up another, into a by-lane, over a back-garden wall, in at the back-door of a house and out at the front, took a round of two or three miles, and came in here from the west; and whatever other objections there may be to the whole proceeding, I cannot say that it has spoiled my appetite.”

      “And so, sir,” said Captain Dunning, “you call this your ‘misfortune?’”

      “Surely, captain,” said Glynn, putting down his cup and looking up in some surprise—“surely, you cannot blame me for punishing the rascal who behaved so brutally, without the slightest provocation, to my shipmate!”

      “Hear, hear!” cried Rokens involuntarily.

      “I do blame you, lad,” replied the captain seriously. “In the first place, you had no right to take the law into your own hands. In the second place, your knocking down the man did no good whatever to your shipmate; and in the third place, you’ve got yourself and me and the ship into a very unsatisfactory scrape.”

      Rokens’ face, which had hitherto expressed approval of Glynn’s conduct, began to elongate as the captain went on in this strain; and the youth’s recklessness of manner altogether disappeared as inquired, “How so, captain? I have escaped, as you see; and poor Sling, of course, was not to blame, so he’ll be all safe aboard, and well, I hope, by this time.”

      “There you’re mistaken, boy. They will have secured Sling and made him tell the name of his ship, and also the name of his pugnacious comrade.”

      “And do you think he’d be so mean as to tell?” asked Glynn indignantly.

      “You forget that the first act in this nice little melodrama was the knocking down of Sling, so that he could not know what happened after, and the police would not be so soft as to tell him why they wanted such information until after they had got it.”

      Poor Glynn looked aghast, and Rokens was overwhelmed.

      “It seems to me, I’d better go and see about this,” said Millons, rising and buttoning his coat with the air of a man who had business to transact and meant to transact it.

      “Right, Millons,” answered the captain. “I’m sorry to break up our evening so soon, but we must get this man aboard by hook or crook as speedily as possible. You had better go too, doctor. Rokens and I will take care of this young scamp, who must be made a nigger of in order to be got on board, for his face, once seen by these sharp limbs of justice, is not likely soon to be forgotten.”

      Glynn Proctor was indeed a youth whose personal appearance was calculated to make a lasting impression on most people. He was about eighteen years of age, but a strong, well-developed muscular frame, a firm mouth, a large chin, and an eagle eye, gave him the appearance of being much older. He was above the middle height, but not tall, and the great breadth of his shoulders and depth of his chest made him appear shorter than he really was. His hair was of that beautiful hue called nut-brown, and curled close round his well-shaped head. He was a model of strength and activity.

      Glynn Proctor had many faults. He was hasty and reckless. He was unsteady, too, and preferred a roving idle life to a busy one; but he had redeeming qualities. He was bold and generous. Above all, he was unselfish, and therefore speedily became a favourite with all who knew him. Glynn’s history is briefly told. He was an Englishman. His father and mother had died when he was a child, and left him in charge of an uncle, who emigrated to America shortly after his brother’s death. The uncle was a good man, after a fashion, but he was austere and unlovable. Glynn didn’t like him; so when he attained the age of thirteen, he quietly told him that he meant to bid him good-bye, and go seek his fortune in the world. The uncle as quietly told Glynn that he was quite right, and the sooner he went the better. So Glynn went, and never saw his uncle again, for the old man died while he was abroad.

      Glynn travelled far and encountered many vicissitudes of fortune in his early wanderings; but he was never long without occupation, because men liked his looks, and took him on trial without much persuasion. To say truth, Glynn never took the trouble to persuade them. When his services were declined, he was wont to turn on his heel and walk away without a word of reply; and not unfrequently he was called back and employed. He could turn his hand to almost anything, but when he tired of it, he threw it up and sought other work elsewhere.

      In the course of his peregrinations, he came to reside in the city in which our story finds him. Here he had become a compositor in the office of a daily newspaper, and, happening to be introduced to the Misses Dunning, soon became a favourite with them, and a constant visitor at their house. Thus he became acquainted with their brother. Becoming disgusted with the constant work and late hours of the printing-office, he resolved to join Captain Dunning’s ship, and take a voyage to southern seas as an ordinary seaman. Glynn and little Alice Dunning were great friends, and it was a matter of extreme delight to both of them that they were to sail together on this their first voyage.

      Having been made a nigger of—that is, having had his face and hands blackened in order to avoid detection—Glynn sallied forth with the captain and Rokens to return to their ship, the Red Eric, which lay in the harbour, not ten minutes’ walk from the house.

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