Читать книгу Midshipman Raxworthy - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 5

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“Fall in, liberty men!”

The hoarse order, followed by the shrill trill of the bo’sun’s mate’s pipes brought the hands of the watch detailed for leave tumbling up pell-mell through the hatchways. At the double they ran aft to form up in two ranks upon the quarter-deck, where they stood shivering in the chilly on-shore wind in spite of great-coats, jerseys, and mufflers.

“Liberty men—‘shun!”

The ranks stiffened, each man staring fixedly into space while the inspecting officer, accompanied by a midshipman and the master-at-arms, passed slowly up and down, keenly on the look-out for any glaring departure from regulations in the men’s “rig”.

“Carry on!”

The ranks broke, each man, holding his suitcase and making sure that his liberty ticket and travelling warrant were still in his possession, making for one of two pinnaces lying alongside.

In a few moments both boats were filled to their utmost capacity, while the duty steam-boat, with Midshipman Raxworthy in charge, backed and then went slowly ahead preparatory to taking the two liberty boats in tow.

The Owner had left the ship on the previous day, and in consequence the commander was virtually captain of the Kirkham. The Bloke evidently meant to give Raxworthy more than his fair share of duty, if the commander’s night-order book was any criterion. And the commander was pacing the starboard side of the quarter-deck, apparently oblivious to the biting wind and stinging sleet, with the evident intention of seeing how smartly the midshipman got away with his tow.

It was by no means a simple manœuvre. There was quite a nasty sea running, and since the light cruiser was lying head on to both wind and tide there was little lee to be obtained from her lofty hull. The steam-boat had not only to sheer off from the ship’s side, but she had to get the two heavily laden pinnaces clear. Too much way might result in the towing hawsers parting; too little and the steam-boat would probably foul the slack hawser with her propeller—and then all the fat would be in the fire, even if the liberty men didn’t find themselves in the ditch!

But Raxworthy’s luck was in this time. The steam-boat gathered way, taking it green as her bows plunged into the short, steep seas. Then, once she and her double tow were well clear of the ship, the midshipman put his helm down and described a sixteen-point turn. Not until wind and sea were astern and the two pinnaces rolling sluggishly in her wake did Kenneth heave a sigh of relief.

“The Bloke can’t have me on that, anyway!” he soliloquized.

Just as the steam-boat was entering the inner harbour the motor-picket-boat—the reason for Midshipman Raxworthy’s present duty—came pelting seaward with a whaler in tow. In the stern sheets of the latter sat a petty officer coxswain, almost hidden by a mass of evergreens and holly.

As the whaler drew abeam the coxswain stood up and saluted the midshipman; then as the two pinnaces in tow glided past, the liberty men greeted the cargo of evergreens with ironical cheers. It mattered not to them that those evergreens were going to be used to decorate Kirkham’s mess-decks. They would not be there, but would be enjoying their Christmas leave ashore.

The midshipman gave a quick glance astern at the rapidly receding motor-picket-boat and her tow. How he loathed that motor-picket-boat, the cause of his present disappointment. She had let him down through no fault of his own, and in consequence he was fated to spend the “festive season”—which promised to be anything but that as far as he was concerned—in a half-empty ship. Most of the officers were already on leave; practically all his messmates of the gun-room would be “going on the beach” that afternoon. On Christmas Day he would have the doubtful pleasure of accompanying the commander and the few officers who remained on a semi-ceremonial tour of the evergreen-decorated mess-deck. That was all the Christmas spirit he was likely to enter upon. The odds were that even the Christmas mail would be late—trust the Mautby branch line for that!—and that there would be neither presents nor letters to cheer him up.

Without mishap the two pinnaces ranged up alongside the jetty and disgorged their human cargo. There were no water police in Mautby to harry the liberty men and for some reason the customs boatmen were absent.

“No bloomin’ water-rats about this time, Joe,” Kenneth overheard the coxswain of one of the liberty boats remark to his “opposite number”. “What’s the lay? Have they got the Christmas feeling?”

“Not they,” replied the other, “I heard as a Frenchie’s trying to run a cargo up-along and the water-rats are off to nab him—if they can.”

“Well, s’long as they don’t get us on that lay, I hopes the Frenchie’ll kipper their bloomin’ Christmas,” rejoined the first speaker, who, having been caught by the Customs while in possession of a couple of plugs of smuggled tobacco, had no love for the members of His Majesty’s Preventive Service.

“Well, mine’s kippered any old way,” thought Midshipman Raxworthy. “But, by Jove! it would be a bit of excitement if there’s anything in the yarn, and I’m sent away to capture a French smuggler!”