Читать книгу Dutch the Diver; Or, A Man's Mistake - George Manville Fenn - Страница 8

“But I am not polite, my dear,” said Mr Parkley. “This is Señor Manuel Lorry, a gentleman from Havana. Señor, Mrs Pugh, the wife of my future partner, and almost my daughter.”

The Cuban bowed low as the young Englishwoman rose and looked anxiously at him, her eyes falling directly, and she blushed vividly, as though her fair young cheeks were scorched beneath his ardent gaze.

A pang shot through the breast of Dutch Pugh; but the eyes were raised again to his with so naïve and innocent a look that the pain was assuaged, and he crossed to her side.

“Well, Señor,” said Mr Parkley, “I am to see that you are not imposed upon, so you are in my charge.”

“I know so much of the straightforward honesty of the English, sir, that I am glad to be in your hands.”

“That’s complimentary,” said Mr Parkley.

“It is true, sir,” said the Cuban, bowing.

“Very well, then,” said Mr Parkley, “we’ll begin by trusting one another fully. Well, Rasp, what is it now?”

“Here’s Sam Oakum just come from Barrport.”

“Well, have they got out all the copper?”

“Not a bit of it, for the men won’t go down.”

“Why?”

“Say the engine don’t supply enough air, and the receiver’s bust. Won’t go down, hany one on ’em.”

“Nonsense!”

“John Tolly’s dead or thereabouts.”

“Dead?”

“So Sam says.”

“Tut, tut, tut!” ejaculated Mr Parkley. “Always something wrong. Pugh, you’ll have to go down directly, and set an example, or I must. Tolly always comes up dead when he don’t like a job.”

“No, no, no!” exclaimed Mrs Pugh, leaping off to catch her husband by the arm. “He must never go down again. Promise me you will not go,” she cried, turning her ashy face up to his.

“But she is beautiful indeed!” muttered the Cuban.

“My darling,” whispered Dutch, “be a woman. There is no danger.”

“No danger!” she wailed. “Dutch, I’ve dreamed night after night of some terrible trouble, and it is this. You must not—must not go.”

“My darling,” he whispered. And, bending over her, he said a few words in her ear, which made her set her teeth firmly and try to smile, as she stood up clasping his hand.

“I will try,” she whispered—“try so hard.”

“I’m ready, Mr Parkley,” said the young man, hoarsely.

“That’s right, Pugh. Go and set matters square. I’ll see your wife safe back home.”

“I leave her to you,” said Dutch, in a low voice. “Good-bye, my darling, get back home. I’ll join you soon,” he whispered, and hurried out of the office.

But as he turned for a moment, it was to see the Cuban’s eyes fixed upon the trembling girl; while the goblinlike figures against the wall seemed to be nodding and gibbering at him, as if laughing at the troubles that assailed his breast.

“Off down to Barrport, Mr Pug?” said Rasp, as he stood in the outer office.

“Yes, instantly. Come, Oakum,” he said, to a rough-looking sailor, who stood hat in hand.

“Sharp’s the word, Mr Pug,” said Rasp; “but I say,” he continued, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder, “that foreign chap, I don’t like the looks o’ he.”

“I tell you what it is, sir,” said the rough-looking sailor, as he walked by Dutch Pugh’s side down to the station. “If I weer much along o’ that Rasp, it would soon come to a row.”

“Why, man?”

“’Cause he’s such a overbearing sort of a chap. He’s one of them kind as always thinks he’s skipper, and every one else is afore the mast. If he’d come aboard the ship and hailed me, I should ha’ ast him to sit down on the deck and handed him the bacco; but when I comes in he sits and stares at one orty like, and goes on taking his bacco, in a savage sorter way, up his nose, and never so much as says, ‘Have a pinch, mate,’ or the like.”

“You don’t know him, my man,” said Dutch, quietly.

“And don’t want to,” growled the old sailor. “I should just like to have him aboard our vessel for a month. I’d show him how to count ten, I know.”

“Well, there are more unlikely things,” said Dutch. “Perhaps he may sail with you.”

“What, are we going off, sir?” said the sailor, facing round.

“I don’t know yet,” said Dutch, “but it is possible.”

“I’m glad on it,” said the sailor, giving his canvas trousers a slap. “I’m tired o’ hanging about the coast as we do. All this diving work’s very well, but I want to get out in the blue again.”

“Tell me all about the upset over the work,” said Dutch. “Is Tolly bad?”

“Not he, sir,” chuckled the sailor. “I’d ha’ cured him with a rope’s-end in about two twos. Didn’t want to go down, and when the skipper turned rusty, and said as how he must, his mates takes sides with him, and say as Mr Parkley wants to send ’em to their death, and then the real sore place comes out—they wants a rise in the pay. ‘Well, then,’ says the skipper, ‘I’ll send for Mr Parkley;’ and then Tolly says in his blustering way, ‘Ah,’ he says, ‘I ain’t afraid to go down, and if I loses my life it’s all the governor’s fault.’ So down he goes, and dreckly after he begins pulling his siggle rope, and they pulls him up, unscrews him, and lays him on the deck, and gives him cold grog.”

“But was he senseless?”

“He wasn’t so senseless that he couldn’t lap the grog, sir, no end; and if he warn’t playing at sham Abraham, my name ain’t Sam Oakum.”

Barrport was soon reached, and, boarding a small lugger, Dutch and his companion were put aboard a handsomely-rigged schooner, lying about four miles along the coast, at anchor, by the two masts of a vessel seen above the water. And here it was evident that arrangements had been made for diving, for a ladder was lashed to the side of the vessel, evidently leading down to the deck of the sunken ship, while four men in diving suits lounged against the bulwarks, their round helmets, so greatly out of proportion to their heads, standing on a kind of rack, while the heavy leaden breast and back pieces they wore lay on the planks.

“Ah, Pugh,” said a weather-beaten, middle-aged man, greeting Dutch as he reached the deck; “glad you’ve come. When I’ve a mutiny amongst my own men I know what to do; but with these fellows I’m about done, especially as they say the machinery is defective.”

“Of course, Captain Studwick,” said Dutch aloud, “men cannot be asked to risk their lives. Here, Tolly, what is it?”

The diver spoken to, a fat-faced, pig-eyed fellow, with an artful leer upon his countenance, sidled up.

“The pump don’t work as it should, Mr Pugh,” he said. “Near pretty nigh gone—warn’t I, mates?”

The others nodded.

“Is the work below very hard?” said Dutch, quietly.

“Well, no, sir, I don’t know as it’s much harder nor usual; but the copper’s heavy to move, and the way into the hold is littler nor usual; ain’t it, mates?”

“Take off your suit,” said Dutch, after glancing at the men at the air-pump, and seeing that they were those he could trust.

“It won’t fit you, sir,” said the man, surlily.

“I’m the best judge of that,” said Dutch; “take it off instantly.”

The man glanced at his companions, but seeing no help forthcoming from them, he began sulkily to take off the copper gorget and the india-rubber garments, with the heavy leaden-soled boots, which, with the help of the old sailor, Dutch slipped on with the ease of one accustomed to handle such articles; then fitting on the leaden weights—the chest and back piece—he took up the helmet, saw that the tube from the back was properly adjusted and connected with the air-pump, which he examined, and then turned to Captain Studwick—

“You’ll see that no one touches the tube, Mr Studwick,” he said, in a low tone. “One of those fellows might feel disposed to tamper with it.”

The captain nodded, and Dutch then lifted on the helmet, the rim of which fitted exactly to the gorget, had the screws tightened, and then, with the old sailor and the captain himself seeing that the tube and signalling cords were all right, the pump began to work, and Dutch walked heavily to the side, took hold of the rungs of the ladder, and began to descend.

In a few moments his head had disappeared, and his blurred figure could be made out going down into the darkness, while a constant stream of exhausted air which escaped from the helmet-valve kept rising in great bubbles. The pump clanked as its pistons worked up and down, and the sailors and divers—the former eagerly and the latter in a sulky fashion—approached the side and looked over.

Captain Studwick himself held the signal-line, and answered the calls made upon him for more or less air by communicating with the men at the pump; and so the minutes passed, during which time, by the necessity for lengthening out the tube and cord, it was evident that Dutch was going over the submerged vessel in different directions. All had gone so well that the captain had relaxed somewhat in his watchfulness, when he was brought back to attention by a violent jerking of the cord.

“More air!” he shouted—“quick!” just as there was a yell, a scuffle, and the man Tolly struggled into the middle of the deck, wrestling hard with a black sailor, who backed away from him, and then, running forward like a ram, struck his adversary in the chest and sent him rolling over into the scuppers.

By this time the signalling had ceased, and Dutch was evidently moving about at his ease.

“What was that?” said Captain Studwick, sternly, as the man Tolly got up and made savagely at the black, but was restrained by the strong arm of the old sailor, Oakum.

Tolly and the black both spoke excitedly together, and not a word was to be understood.

“Here you, Mr Tolly, what is it?” cried the captain. “Hold your tongue, ’Pollo.”

“I bash him head, sah. I—”

“Hold your tongue, sir,” said the captain. “What was it?”

“I happened to look round, sir, and found this stupid nigger standing on the tube, and when I dragged him off he struck me.”

“Who you call nigger, you ugly, white, fat-head tief?” shouted the black, savagely. “I bash your ugly head.”

“Silence!” cried the captain.

“It great big lie, sah,” cried the black. “I turn roun’ and see dat ugly tief set him hoof on de tubum, and top all de wind out of Mass’ Dutch Pugh, and I scruff him.”

“You infamous—”

“Silence!” roared the captain. “Stand back, both of you. Oakum, see that no one goes near the tube. Haul in gently there; he’s coming up.”

This was the case, for in another minute the great round top of the helmet was seen to emerge from the water; its wearer mounted the side, and was soon relieved of his casque, displaying the flushed face of Dutch, who looked sharply round.

“Some one must have stepped on the tube,” he said. “Who was it?”

“It lies between these two,” said Captain Studwick, pointing to the pair of adversaries.

“It was the nigger, sir,” said Tolly.

“No, sah, ’sure you, sah. I too much sense, sah, to put um foot on de tubum. It was dis fellow, sah,” said the black, with dignity.

“I presume it was an accident,” said Dutch, quietly. Then, turning to the divers—“I have been down, as you see, my men. The apparatus is in perfect working order, the water clear, the light good, and the copper easy to get at. Begin work directly. If anything goes wrong, it is the fault of your management.”

“But ain’t this black fellow to be punished?” began the man Tolly.

“Mr John Tolly, you are foreman of these divers,” said Dutch quietly, “and answerable to Mr Parkley for their conduct. If one of the sailors deserves punishment, that is Captain Studwick’s affair.”

For a moment there was dead silence, then ’Pollo spoke.

“I not a sailor, sah; I de ship cook. You mind I not put de cork in de tubum, Mass’ Tolly, next time you go down.”

“There! do you hear him?” cried Tolly. “Who’s going down to be threatened like that?”

“Yah, yah, yah!” laughed the black. “Him great coward, sah. He not worf notice.”

Then he turned and walked forward, while Tolly resumed his suit, vacated for him by Dutch, their helmets were put on by two of the men, and diving commenced, Dutch remaining on board till it was time to cease, and having the satisfaction of seeing a goodly portion of the copper hauled on the deck of the schooner, the divers fastening ropes round the ingots, which were drawn up by the sailors.

“That was a malicious trick, of course,” said Dutch to the captain while Tolly was below.

“I’m afraid it was,” said the captain, “to try and make out that the machinery was out of order.”

“Yes, I expected it,” said Dutch; “and that’s why I spoke to you. They did not mean to do me a mischief, of course—only to frighten me. I don’t suspect the black, though.”

“What, ’Pollo!” said the captain. “Good heavens, no! He’s as staunch as steel. A thoroughly trustworthy man.”

“I must wink at it, I suppose,” said Dutch, “for it is not easy to supply vacancies in our little staff, and the men know it. They are hard fellows to manage.”

“And yet you manage them well,” said the captain, smiling. “You ought to have been a skipper.”

“Think so?” said Dutch; “but look, who is this coming on board?”

“Poor John!” said the captain, with a sigh. “Poor boy, he’s in a sad way.”

“But he’s very young, Mr Studwick, and with the fine weather he may amend.”

“He’s beginning to be out of hope, Pugh, and so is poor Bessy. The doctor says he must have a sea voyage into some warmer climate—not that he promises health, but prolonged life.”

“Indeed!” said Dutch, starting, as he thought of the Cuban’s proposal, and the probability of Captain Studwick having charge of the vessel if the trip was made, but not feeling at liberty to say much; and, the boat from the shore touching the side, he held his peace.

A minute later a fine, handsome, but rather masculine girl—whose clear eyes sparkled as they lit on Dutch Pugh, and then were turned sharply away—stepped on deck, holding out her hand directly after to assist an invalid to pass the gangway, which he did, panting slightly, and then pausing to cough.

He was evidently enough the girl’s brother, for with his delicate looks and hectic flush he looked strangely effeminate, and in height and stature the pair were wonderfully alike.

“I don’t think it was wise of you to come out, John,” said the captain, kindly; “it’s a cold, thick day.”

“It’s so dull at home,” said the young man, “and I must have change. There, I’m well wrapped up, father; and Bessy takes no end of care of me.”

He gave the girl a tender and affectionate look as he spoke; and she smiled most pleasantly.

“Ah, Mr Pugh, I’m glad to see you. Have you been down?”

“Yes, just for a little while,” said Dutch, shaking hands with him, and then holding out his hand to the sister, who half shrank from him with an angry, flushed face; but his frank, pleasant look overcame her, and she held out her hand to him.

“You have not been to see us yet, Miss Studwick,” he said, frankly. “Hester quite expects you to call, and I hope you will be friends.”

“I will try to be, Mr Pugh,” said the girl, huskily. “I’ll call—soon.”

“That’s right,” he said, smiling. “Come, too, John. We shall be very glad to see you.”

The young man started, and looked at him searchingly with his unnaturally bright eyes.

“No,” he said, sadly. “I’m too much of an invalid now. That is, at present,” he said, catching his father’s eye, and speaking hastily. “I shall be better in a month or two. I’m stronger now—much stronger; am I not, Bessy? Give me your arm, dear. I want to see the divers.”

The couple walked forward to where the air-pump was standing, and the eyes of the captain and Dutch Pugh met, when the former shook his head sadly, and turned away.

There was something very pathetic in the aspect of the young man, in whom it was plain enough to see that one by one most fatal diseases had made such inroads as to preclude all hope of recovery; and saddened at heart, for more than one reason, above all feeling that his presence was not welcome, Dutch superintended his men till, feeling that it would be absolutely necessary that some one would have to be on deck every day till the copper was all recovered, he made up his mind that it would fall to his lot, except at such times as Mr Parkley would relieve guard.