Children -- Fiction; Pirates -- Fiction; Sea stories
But the deaf and exulting mate had plenty of his story still to run:
how Audain now turned trader, and took a cargo of corn to San Domingo,
and settled there: how he challenged two black generals to a duel, and
shot them both, and Christophe threatened to hang him if they died.
But the parson (having little faith in Domingan doctors) escaped by
night in an open boat and went to St. Eustatius. There he found many
religions but no ministers; so he recommenced clergyman of every kind:
in the morning he celebrated a mass for the Catholics, then a Lutheran
service in Dutch, then Church of England matins: in the evening he sang
hymns and preached hell-fire to the Methodists. Meanwhile his wife, who
had more tranquil tastes, lived at Bristol: so he now married a Dutch
widow, resourcefully conducting the ceremony himself.
‘But I _don’t_ understand!’ said Emily despairingly: ‘Was he a real
clergyman?’
‘Of course he wasn’t,’ said Margaret.
‘But he couldn’t have married himself _himself_ if he wasn’t,’ argued
Edward. ‘Could he?’
The mate heaved a sigh.
‘But the English Church aren’t like that nowadays,’ he said. ‘They’re
all against us.’
‘I should think not, indeed!’ pronounced Rachel slowly, in a deep
indignant voice. ‘He was a very wicked man!’
‘He was a most respectable person,’ replied the mate severely, ‘and a
_wonderful_ pathetic preacher!--You may take it they were chagrined at
Roseau, when they heard St. Eustatius had got him!’
Captain Jonsen had lashed the wheel, and came up, his face piteous with
distress.
‘Otto! Mein Schatz...!’ he began, laying his great bear’s-arm round the
mate’s neck. Without more ado they went below together, and a sailor
came aft unbidden and took the wheel.
* * * * *
Ten minutes later the mate reappeared on deck for a moment, and sought
out the children.
‘What’s the captain been saying to you?’ he asked. ‘Flashed out at you
about something, did he?’
He took their complex, uncomfortable silence for assent.
‘Don’t you take too much notice of what he says,’ he went on. ‘He
flashes out like that sometimes; but a minute after he could eat
himself, fair eat himself!’
The children stared at him in astonishment: what on earth was he trying
to say?
But he seemed to think he had explained his mission fully: turned, and
once more went below.
* * * * *
For hours a merry but rather tedious hubble-bubble, suggesting liquor,
was heard ascending from the cabin skylight. As evening drew on, the
breeze having dropped away almost to a calm, the steersman reported
that both Jonsen and Otto were now fast asleep, their heads on each
other’s shoulders across the cabin table. As he had long forgotten what
the course was, but had been simply steering by the wind, and there was
now no wind to steer by, he (the steersman) concluded the wheel could
get on very well without him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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