Matty, said Stephen to his wife, as he jolted his daughter into a state of wild delight on his knee, Tottie is becoming very like you. Shes got the same pretty little turned-up nose, an the same huge grey eyes with the wicked twinkle in em about the corners.
Dont talk nonsense, Stephen, but tell me about this robbery.
I know nothin about it more than Ive told ye, Matty. Eve didnt know the man, and her description of him is confusedshe was frightened, poor thing! But I promised to send some one to look after her at once, for her drunken mother isnt fit to take care of herself, let alone the sick child. Who can I send, think ee?
Mrs Lockley pursed her little mouth, knitted her brows, and gazed thoughtfully at the baby, who, taking the look as personal, made a face at her. Finally she suggested Isabella Wentworth.
And where is she to be found? asked the skipper.
At the Martins, no doubt, replied Mrs Lockley, with a meaning look. Shes been there pretty much ever since poor Fred Martin came home, looking after old granny, for Mrs Martins time is taken up wi nursing her son. They say hes pretty bad.
Then Ill go an see about it at once, said Stephen, rising, and setting Tottie down.
He found Isa quite willing to go to Eve, though Mrs Mooney had stormed at her and shut the door in her face on the occasion of her last visit.
But you mustnt try to see Fred, she added. The doctor says he must be kep quiet and see no one.
All right, returned the skipper; Ill wait till hes out o quarantine. Good day; Ill go and tell Eve that youre coming.
On his way to Mrs Mooneys hut Stephen Lockley had again to pass the Blue Boar. This time he did not give it a wide berth. There were two roads to the hut, and the shorter was that which passed the public-house. Trusting to the strength of his own resolution, he chose that road. When close to the blue monster, whose creaking sign drew so many to the verge of destruction, and plunged so many over into the gulf, he was met by Skipper Ned Bryce, a sociable, reckless sort of man, of whom he was rather fond. Bryce was skipper of the Fairy, an iron smack, which was known in the fleet as the Ironclad.
Hullo! Stephen. You here?
Ay, a week before my time, Ned. That lubber Groggy Fox ran into me, cut down my bulwarks, and carried away my bowsprit an some o my top-hamper.
Come alonghave a glass, an lets hear all about it, said Bryce, seizing his friends arm; but Lockley held back.
No, Ned, he said; Im on another tack just now.
What! not hoisted the blue ribbon, eh!
No, returned Lockley, with a laugh. Ive no need to do that.
You havent lost faith in your own power o self-denial surely?
No, nor that either, butbut
Come now, none o your buts. Come along; my mate Dick Martin is in here, an hes the best o company.
Dick Martin in there! repeated Lockley, on whom a sudden thought flashed. Is he one o your hands?
In course he is. Left the Grimsby fleet a-purpose to jine me. Rather surly he is at times, no doubt, but a good fellow at bottom, and great company. You should hear him sing. Come.
Oh, I know him well enough by hearsay, but never met him yet.
Whether it was the urgency of his friend, or a desire to meet with Dick Martin, that shook our skippers wavering resolution we cannot tell, but he went into the Blue Boar, and took a glass for good-fellowship. Being a man of strong passions and excitable nerves, this glass produced in him a desire for a second, and that for a third, until he forgot his intended visit to Eve, his promises to his wife, and his stern resolves not to submit any longer to the tyranny of drink. Still, the memory of Mrs Mooneys conduct, and of the advice of his friend Fred Martin, had the effect of restraining him to some extent, so that he was only what his comrades would have called a little screwed when they had become rather drunk.
There are many stages of drunkenness. One of them is the confidential stage. When Dick Martin had reached this stage he turned with a superhumanly solemn countenance to Bryce and winked.
Ifif you ththink, said Bryce thickly, ththat winkin suits you, youre mistaken.
Look ere, said Dick, drawing a letter from his pocket with a maudlin leer, and holding it up before his comrade, who frowned at it, and then shook his headas well he might, for, besides being very illegibly written, the letter was presented to him upside down.
After holding it before him in silence long enough to impress him with the importance of the document, Dick Martin explained that it was a letter which he had stolen from his sisters house, because it contained something to his advantage.
See here, he said, holding the letter close to his own eyes, still upside down, and evidently reading from memory: If Mr Frederick Martin will ccall at this office any day next week between 10 an 12, hhe will ear suthin to his adadvantage. Bounce and Brag, slicitors. There!
But you aint Fred Martin, said Bryce, with a look of supreme contempt, for he had arrived at the quarrelsome stage of drunkenness.
Right you are, said Martin; but Im his uncle. Same name ccause his mother mmarried her ccousin; and there aint much difference tween Dick and Fredfour letters, both of emso if I goes wi the letter, an says, Im Fred Martin, wy, theyll hand over the blunt, or the jewels, or wotiver it is, to medee see?
No, I dont see, returned Bryce so irritatingly that his comrade left the confidential stage astern, and requested to know, with an affable air, when Bryce lost his eyesight.
When I first saw you, and thought you worth your salt, shouted Bryce, as he brought his fist heavily down on the table.
Both men were passionate. They sprang up, grappled each other by the throat, and fell on the floor. In doing so they let the letter fall. It fluttered to the ground, and Lockley, quietly picking it up, put it in his pocket.
Youd better look after them, said Lockley to the landlord, as he paid his reckoning, and went out.
In a few minutes he stood in Widow Mooneys hut, and found Isa Wentworth already there.
Im glad you sent me here, said the girl, for Mrs Mooney has gone out
She stopped and looked earnestly in Lockleys face. Youve been to the Blue Boar, she said in a serious tone.
Yes, lass, I have, admitted the skipper, but without a touch of resentment. I did not mean to go, but its as well that I did, for Ive rescued a letter from Dick Martin which seems to be of some importance, an he says he stole it from his sisters house.
He handed the letter to the girl, who at once recognised it as the epistle over which she and Mrs Martin had puzzled so much, and which had finally been deciphered for them by Dick Martin.
He must have made up his mind to pretend that he is Fred, said Isa, and so get anything that was intended for him.
Youre a sharp girl, Isa; youve hit the nail fair on the head, for I heard him in his drunken swagger boast of his intention to do that very thing. Now, will you take in hand, lass, to give the letter back to Mrs Martin, and explain how you came by it?
Of course Isa agreed to do so, and Lockley, turning to Eve, said he would tell her a story before going home.
Of course Isa agreed to do so, and Lockley, turning to Eve, said he would tell her a story before going home.
The handsome young skipper was in the habit of entertaining the sick child with marvellous tales of the sea during his frequent visits, for he was exceedingly fond of her, and never failed to call during his periodical returns to land. His love was well bestowed, for poor Eve, besides being of an affectionate nature, was an extremely imaginative child, and delighted in everything marvellous or romantic. On this occasion, however, he was interrupted at the commencement of his tale by the entrance of his own ships cook, the boy Bob Lumsden, alias Lumpy.
Hullo, Lumpy, what brings you here? asked the skipper.
But the boy made no answer. He was evidently taken aback at the unexpected sight of the sick child, and the skipper had to repeat his question in a sterner tone. Even then Lumpy did not look at his commander, but, addressing the child, said
Beg parding, miss; I wouldnt have come in if Id knowed you was in bed, but
Oh, never mind, interrupted Eve, with a little smile, on seeing that he hesitated; my friends never see me except in bed. Indeed I live in bed; but you must not think Im lazy. Its only that my backs bad. Come in and sit down.
Well, boy, demanded the skipper again, were you sent here to find me?
Yes, sir, said Lumpy, with his eyes still fixed on the earnest little face of Eve. Mister Jay sent me to say he wants to speak to you about the heel o the noo bowsprit.
Tell him Ill be aboard in half an hour.
I didnt know before, said Eve, that bowsprits have heels.
At this Lumpy opened his large mouth, nearly shut his small eyes, and was on the point of giving vent to a rousing laugh, when his commander half rose and seized hold of a wooden stool. The boy shut his mouth instantly, and fled into the street, where he let go the laugh which had been thus suddenly checked.
Well, she is a rum un! he said to himself, as he rolled in a nautical fashion down to the wharf where the Lively Poll was undergoing repairs.
I think hes a funny boy, that, said Eve, as the skipper stooped to kiss her.
Yes, he is a funny dog. Good-bye, my pretty one.
Stay, said Eve solemnly, as she laid her delicate little hand on the huge brown fist of the fisherman; youve often told me stories, Stephen; I want to tell one to you to-night. You need not sit down; its a very, very short one.
But the skipper did sit down, and listened with a look of interest and expectation as the child began
There was once a great, strong, brave man, who was very kind to everybody, most of all to little children. One day he was walking near a river, when a great, fearful, ugly beast, came out of the wood, and seized the man with its terrible teeth. It was far stronger than the dear, good man, and it threw him down, and held him down, tilltill it killed him.
She stopped, and tears filled her soft eyes at the scene she had conjured up.
Do you know, she asked in a deeper tone, what sort of awful beast it was?
No; what was it?
A Blue Boar, said the child, pressing the strong hand which she detained.
Lockleys eyes fell for a moment before Eves earnest gaze, and a flush deepened the colour of his bronzed countenance. Then he sprang suddenly up and kissed Eves forehead.
Thank you, my pretty one, for your story, but it ant just correct, for the man is not quite killed yet and, please God, hell escape.
As he spoke the door of the hut received a severe blow, as if some heavy body had fallen against it. When Isa opened it, a dirty bundle of rags and humanity rolled upon the floor. It was Eves mother!
Lifting her up in his strong arms, Lockley carried her into the closet which opened off the outer room, and laid her tenderly on a mattress which lay on the floor. Then, without a word, he left the hut and went home.
It is scarcely necessary to add that he took the longer road on that occasion, and gave a very wide berth indeed to the Blue Boar.
Chapter Four
Hardships on the Sea
Fly with us now, good reader, once more out among the breeze-ruffled billows of the North Sea.
It was blowing a fine, fresh, frosty fishing breeze from the nor-west on a certain afternoon in December. The AdmiralManx Bradleywas guiding his fleet over that part of the German Ocean which is described on the deep-sea fishermans chart as the Swarte, or Black Bank. The trawls were down, and the men were taking it easyat least, as easy as was compatible with slush-covered decks, a bitter blast, and a rolling sea. If we had the power of extending and intensifying your vision, reader, so as to enable you to take the whole fleet in at one stupendous glance, and penetrate planks as if they were plate glass, we might, perhaps, convince you that in this multitude of deep-sea homes there was carried on that night a wonderful amount of vigorous action, good and badlargely, if not chiefly badunder very peculiar circumstances, and that there was room for improvement everywhere.
Strong and bulky and wiry men were gambling and drinking, and singing and swearing; story-telling and fighting, and skylarking and sleeping. The last may be classed appropriately under the head of action, if we take into account the sonorous doings of throats and noses. As if to render the round of human procedure complete, there was at least one manperhaps morepraying.
Yes, Manx Bradley, the admiral, was praying. And his prayer was remarkably brief, as well as earnest. Its request was that God would send help to the souls of the men whose home was the North Sea. For upwards of thirty years Manx and a few like-minded men had persistently put up that petition. During the last few years of that time they had mingled thanksgiving with the prayer, for a gracious answer was being given. God had put it into the heart of the present Director of the Mission to Deep-Sea Fishermen to inaugurate a system of evangelisation among the heretofore neglected thousands of men and boys who toil upon the North Sea from January to December. Mission or Gospel smacks were purchased, manned by Christian skippers and crews, and sent out to the various fleets, to fish with them during the week, and supply them with medicine for body and soul, with lending libraries of wholesome Christian literature, and with other elevating influences, not least among which was a floating church or meeting-house on Sundays.