By the third day nobody took any notice of him, and his presence on board was almost forgotten, until Bob, going down to the forecastle, created a stir by asking somewhat excitedly what had become of him.
Hes on deck, I spose, said the cook, who was having a pipe.
Hes not, said Bob, solemnly.
Hes not gone overboard, I spose? said Bill, starting up.
Touched by this morbid suggestion they went up on deck and looked round; Private Bliss was nowhere to be seen, and Ted, who was steering, Had heard no splash. He seemed to have disappeared by magic, and the cook, after a hurried search, ventured aft, and, descending to the cabin, mentioned his fears to the skipper.
Nonsense! said that gentleman, sharply, Ill lay Ill find him.
He came on deck and looked round, followed at a respectful distance by the crew, but there was no sign of Mr. Bliss.
Then an idea, a horrid idea, occurred to the cook. The colour left his cheeks and he gazed helplessly at the skipper.
What is it? bawled the latter.
The cook, incapable of speech, raised a trembling hand and pointed to the galley. The skipper started, and, rushing to the door, drew it hastily back.
Mr. Bliss had apparently finished, though he still toyed languidly with his knife and fork as though loath to put them down. A half-emptied saucepan of potatoes stood on the floor by his side, and a bone, with a small fragment of meat adhering, was between his legs on a saucepan lid which served as a dish.
Rather underdone, cook, he said, severely, as he met that worthys horror-stricken gaze.
Is that the cabins or the mens hes eaten? vociferated the skipper.
Cabins, replied Mr. Bliss, before the cook could speak; it looked the best. Now, has anybody got a nice see-gar?
He drew back the door the other side of the galley as he spoke, and went out that way. A move was made towards him, but he backed, and picking up a handspike swung it round his head.
Let him be, said the skipper in a choking voice, let him be. Hell have to answer for stealing my dinner when I get im ashore. Cook, take the mens dinner down into the cabin. Ill talk to you by and by.
He walked aft and disappeared below, while Private Bliss, still fondling the handspike, listened unmoved to a lengthy vituperation which Bill called a plain and honest opinion of his behaviour.
Its the last dinner youll ave for some time, he concluded, spitefully; itll be skilly for you when you get ashore.
Mr. Bliss smiled, and, fidgeting with his tongue, asked him for the loan of his toothpick.
You wont be using it yourself, he urged. Now you go below all of you and start on the biscuits, theres good men. Its no use standing there saying a lot o bad words what I left off when I was four years old.
He filled his pipe with some tobacco he had thoughtfully borrowed from the cook before dinner, and dropping into a negligent attitude on the deck, smoked placidly with his eyes half-closed. The brig was fairly steady and the air hot and slumberous, and with an easy assurance that nobody would hit him while in that position, he allowed his head to fall on his chest and dropped off into a light sleep.
It became evident to him the following afternoon that they were nearing Bystermouth. The skipper contented himself with eyeing him with an air of malicious satisfaction, but the crew gratified themselves by painting the horrors of his position in strong colors. Private Bliss affected indifference, but listened eagerly to all they had to say, with the air of a general considering his enemys plans.
It was a source of disappointment to the crew that they did not arrive until after nightfall, and the tide was already too low for them to enter the harbour. They anchored outside, and Private Bliss, despite his position, felt glad as he smelt the land again, and saw the twinkling lights and houses ashore. He could even hear the clatter of a belated vehicle driving along the seafront. Lights on the summits of the heights in the background, indicated, so Bill said, the position of the fort.