Jolly. "It's another cabin passenger."
The captain looked round at the empty sea, with the land thousands of miles away, and with not a ship in sight--turned sharply on the experienced surgeon--eyed him hard--changed color suddenly--and asked what he meant.
"I mean there's a fifth cabin passenger coming on board," persisted Mr. Jolly, grinning from ear to ear--"introduced by Mrs. Smallchild--likely to join us, I should say, toward evening--size, nothing to speak of--sex, not known at present--manners and customs, probably squally."
"Do you really mean it?" asked the captain, backing away, and turning paler and paler.
"Yes, I do," answered Mr. Jolly, nodding hard at him.
"Then I'll tell you what," cried Captain Gillop, suddenly flying into a violent passion, "I won't have it! the infernal weather has worried me out of my life and soul already--and I won't have it! Put it off, Jolly--tell her there isn't room enough for that sort of thing on board my vessel. What does she mean by taking us all in in this way? Shameful! Shameful!"
"No! no!" remonstrated Mr. Jolly. "Don't look at it in that light. It's her first child, poor thing. How should she know? Give her a little more experience, and I dare say--"
"Where's her husband?" broke in the captain, with a threatening look. "I'll speak my mind to her husband, at any rate."
Mr. Jolly consulted his watch before he answered.
"Half-past eleven," he said. "Let me consider a little. It's Mr. Smallchild's regular time just now for squaring accounts with the sea. He'll have done in a quarter of an hour. In five minutes more he'll be fast asleep. At one o'clock he'll eat a hearty lunch, and go to sleep again. At half-past two he'll square accounts as before--and so on till night. You'll make nothing out of Mr. Smallchild, captain. Extraordinary man--wastes tissue, and repairs it again perpetually, in the most astonishing manner. If we are another month at sea, I believe we shall bring him into port totally comatose.--Halloo! What do you want?"
The steward's mate had approached the quarter-deck while the doctor was speaking. Was it a curious coincidence? This man also was grinning from ear to ear, exactly like Mr. Jolly.
"You're wanted in the steerage, sir," said the steward's mate to the doctor. "A woman taken bad, name of Heavysides."
"Nonsense!" cried Mr. Jolly "Ha, ha, ha! You don't mean--eh?"
"That's it, sir, sure enough," said the steward's mate, in the most positive manner.
Captain Gillop looked all around him in silent desperation; lost his sea-legs for the first time these twenty years; staggered back till he was brought up all standing by the side of his own vessel; dashed his fist on the bulwark, and found language to express himself in, at the same moment.
"This ship is bewitched," said the captain, wildly. "Stop!" he called out, recovering himself a little as the doctor bustled away to the steerage. "Stop! If it's true, Jolly, send her husband here aft to me. Damme, I'll have it out with one of the husbands!" said the captain, shaking his fist viciously at the empty air.
Ten minutes passed; and then there came staggering toward the captain, tottering this way and that with the rolling of the becalmed vessel, a long, lean, melancholy, light-haired man, with a Roman nose, a watery blue eye, and a complexion profusely spotted with large brown freckles. This was Simon Heavysides, the intelligent carpenter, with the wife and the family of seven small children on board.
"Oh! you're the man, are you?" said the captain.
The ship lurched heavily; and Simon Heavysides staggered away with a run to the opposite side of the deck, as if he preferred going straight overboard into the sea to answering the captain's question.
"You're the man--are you?" repeated the captain, following him, seizing him by the collar, and pinning him up fiercely against the bulwark. "It's your wife--is it? You infernal rascal! what do you mean by turning my ship into a lying-in hospital? You have committed an act of mutiny; or, if it isn't mutiny, it's next door to it. I've put a man in irons for less! I've more than half a mind to put you in irons! Hold up, you slippery lubber! What do you mean by bringing passengers I don't bargain for on board my vessel? What have you got to say for yourself, before I clap the irons on you?"
"Nothing, sir," answered Simon Heavysides, accepting the captain's strong language without a word of protest. "As for the punishment you mentioned just now, sir," continued Simon, "I wish to say--having seven children more than I know how to provide for, and an eighth coming to make things worse--I respectfully wish to say, sir, that my mind is in irons already; and I don't know as it will make much difference if you put my body in irons along with it."
The captain mechanically let go of the carpenter's collar; the mild despair of the man melted him in spite of himself.
"Why did you come to sea? Why didn't you wait ashore till it was all over?" asked the captain, as sternly as he could.
"It's no use waiting, sir," remarked Simon. "In our line of life, as soon as it's over it begins again. There's no end to it that I can see," said the miserable carpenter, after a moment's meek consideration--"except the grave."
"Who's talking about the grave?" cried Mr. Jolly, coming up at that moment. "It's births we've got to do with on board this vessel--not burials. Captain Gillop, this woman, Mrs. Heavysides, can't be left in your crowded steerage in her present condition. She must be moved off into one of the empty berths--and the sooner the better, I can tell you!"
The captain began to look savage again. A steerage passenger in one of his "state-rooms" was a nautical anomaly subversive of all discipline. He eyed the carpenter once more, as if he was mentally measuring him for a set of irons.
"I'm very sorry, sir," Simon remarked, politely--"very sorry that any inadvertence of mine or Mrs. Heavysides--"
"Take your long carcass and your long tongue forward!" thundered the captain. "When talking will mend matters, I'll send for you again.