Читать книгу In the Van; or, The Builders - John Price-Brown - Страница 21

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'Eave-oh-haw, 'eave-oh-hoh! 'Eave-oh-haw, yoh-hee! Sally come out to the wishing gate, To the wishing gate with me. 'Eave-oh-hie, 'eave-oh-haw! 'Eave-oh-hie, yoh-hoh! For after another day 'as run, Oh Sally I've got to go.

So sang the jolly tars, as with mighty swing and steady rhythm they pulled the halyards and set their sails.

"Did yo' see the leddy, Alf?"

"Bet yo' six-punce, I did."

"Ar'n't she a daisy?"

"Ef she ar'n't, I'd like to know where you'd find on'."

"It's just jolly to have the real thing aboard—none of your tuppenny' a'penny pieces but a geno-wine leddy, thro' and thro'."

"Did you see how she was watchin' and smilin' while we was fixin' the tackle by the big mast."

"Yes, we all seed it. She's got the hearts of the chaps already, even if she be a married 'oman."

'Eave-oh-haw, 'eave-oh-hoh! 'Eave-oh-haw, yoh-hie! Sally's gone back to the washing tub And on ocean brine am I.

"Do you know, Ned, I've been on the North King ever sin' she was launched at Glasgow, seventeen year ago, and this is the first time a leddy has ever sailed aboard of 'er."

"If they're all like this 'un, I hope it won't be the last time, uther."

But, 'eave-oh-haw, and 'eave-oh-hoh! Yes, 'eave-oh-haw, yoh-hoo! For whenever her lad comes home again, His Sally will all'us be true.

And so the sailors echoed her praises, while they sang their songs and adjusted the rigging of the ship, even before they were three days out at sea.

Yes, Helen was on the North King, and her beauty and strong gentleness had captured the hearts of everyone, soldiers and marines as well. Already she was the acknowledged queen—queen of a mighty ship—for the North King had a splendid record. Never had she been defeated in battle, and her history dated back beyond the time when she was one of the vanguard in Nelson's memorable victory on the Nile.

Now, she had a double mission; first, to carry the two companies of the 100th Regiment to Halifax, together with their stores for a long overland journey; and then to turn southwards along the coast line, to join the British squadron in the siege of American cities.

Like many of the British war vessels of that date, however, she was built in an antiquated style. While steady in movement and easily manned, she was a slow sailer; very different from the clipper-built, light-running American warships which had distressingly harassed the British during several of their more recent engagements. This fact alone made a sea-fight probable before Halifax could be reached, for the American liners were ever on the look-out for incoming vessels.

The English motto, "Keep your musket polished and your powder dry," seemed to actuate every man on board; and an extra look-out was stationed on the top-gallant mast to keep perpetual vigil.

Helen had never been on a man-of-war before; but she was a good sailor, and although the passage was stormy, she enjoyed being on deck, clothed in garments that resisted the penetration even of the December winds. Her comfort, too, had been well provided for; and Captain Osborne, the ship-master, out of courtesy to the bride, surrendered his little cabin to herself and her husband.

Harold, on the plea of discipline, protested, but the captain insisted, and gratefully they accepted the situation. The presence of a lady on his ship softened the heart of the old bachelor, and having no rule to guide him, he concluded to be a law unto himself.

While the rough weather did not affect Helen, it did materially affect the women of the steerage. The compartment assigned to them and their husbands was beneath the forecastle, at the extreme prow of the boat; and owing to its forward position, the rocking during a rough sea was extreme.

In the middle of the third day of the most prolonged storm of the voyage, the tempest was at its highest. The ship with frightful lurches pitched fore and aft—simply a plaything tossed at the caprice of the untamed sea. Rain for the time was over, but the wind whistled wildly through the rigging, stretching to their utmost the few sails that were set.

Harold had many duties to perform that morning, and was late in returning to his cabin. Three hours earlier he had parted with his wife, and the storm not having reached its highest point, she had gone on deck. Now, to his surprise, she was not to be found. First he scanned the upper and lower decks, next the large saloon, and finally their own stateroom; but all without avail.

He was seriously alarmed. It was the first time during the twenty days of their voyage that he had missed her. Where could she be? With the tremendous tip of the vessel, and the swash of the sea, could she have been swept overboard? Was it possible that the angry waves had stolen her from him? and unconsciously he wrung his hands in a sharp twinge of agony.

Rushing up the gangway again to the upper deck, he met Captain Osborne of the ship and his own Colonel coming down.

"You look alarmed, Harold!" cried Sir George. "Ammunition all right?"

"Yes, sir," he stammered, "but I am looking for my wife. She went on deck at nine bells, and I've not seen her since."

"Oh, she's safe somewhere," was the reassuring answer. "You could not lose a woman on the North King."

"You might lose one off, though, in a storm like this," said the captain, chaffing the young benedict. "I've known more than one woman to drop overboard—and men by the dozen."

"Stuff!" exclaimed Sir George, who saw that Harold was taking it seriously.

"Fact," returned the officer. "We just lighted ship after each battle was over." He laughed merrily, but Harold was off toward the soldier's quarters. A new idea had seized him; perhaps she had gone to visit the other women. Only the evening before, she had remarked that they had not been on deck since the storm began. And he knew that some of them were ill.

"Is Mrs. Manning here?" he asked of a seaman, as he rushed down the stairway to their cabin.

"Yes, sir; Ahh think so," was the answer. "Corporal Jenkins' wife is pretty low, and one of the wimmin fetched her. Theer she is at end o' t' cabin under t' fo'castle."

Harold hurried on. Owing to the storm the hatchways had been fastened down for days. The portholes were closed and the air of the densely peopled compartment was impure. Still a couple of men at the far end were again singing: