The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval LieutenantCupples, George
General
The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval Lieutenant
Cupples, George
Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction
"As for Tom Westwood, he had plainly gone with the boats, clerical
though he was, which didn't go to set my mind greatly at rest, knowing
him to be one of your slap-dash fellows when roused; and, either way, it
couldn't do much good to a man hailing for a parson to be particularly
active on boat-service. But you may easily conceive what a pitch one's
anxiety for the upshot rose to, at every whisper and hush of the woods,
and every glimmer of the water far astern, where the upper reach could
just be seen brimming pale out of the shadow, against a thick fringe of
misty cane-clumps, topped with tall palms and cocoas--their stems
wavering in the thin haze, and their dark crowns seemingly floating off
above it like heads coming away from the bodies, as the heavy blue
land-fog began to gather like smoke away behind.
"The flow of tide having of course set the Indiaman's stern up-stream,
the ladies on the poop could be seen clustered across the taffrail, with
the careful married gentleman in the middle of them, more dignified than
ordinary, as they one and all strained their eyes into the dusk before
them; when one of the men came down the poop-stairs behind me, and, on
turning, I saw to my surprise that it was Jacobs, he being still more
astonished to see me on deck. I soon found, to my great relief too,
that, what with the anchor-watch and some lads, there were still seven
or eight of the crew aboard, whom I advised him to get on deck and make
them keep a bright look-out--more especially as he was one of the
boatswain's mates, and had charge of the watch at the moment; for, to
tell the truth, seriously speaking, I had more real fear, all along, of
some attack from the negroes and Don José, than of the French craft they
_would_ fancy a pirate, whatever might be her reason for stowing away
Rollock and his companions--although I told Jacobs I had no doubt now
but it _was_ actually she. 'Ay, ay, sir,' said Jacobs in a low voice,
giving his trousers an uneasy hitch up, 'not a doubt on it, Mr Collins.
Black Harry and his mates clapped eyes on her this forenoon, when they
went up for water--so they said, anyway!' 'What, Bob?' said I,
starting--'was it _that_ scoundrel? Did they not see her then?' 'Well,
sir,' replied Jacobs, 'as I gather, 'twas rather one of her boats they
fell ath'art of. You'll mind Harry was in the cutter that time you
boarded the brig at sea, Mr Collins, a week or two 'gone--so, you see,
he knowed one or two o' the crew at once; and in course, sir, comin'
across one another hereaway, they'd make shift to have a talk, but none
on 'em ever guessed about our passengers bein' aboard of her, till----'
'Did the fellow himself think they were pirates, then?' asked I, more
anxiously than before--a shivering dread of I didn't know what beginning
to creep on me, as I turned suddenly round to eye the river glooming
away up from the starlight, through into the blue heaps of hazy forest.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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