The Perils of Certain English Prisoners — John Shaqi
The Perils of Certain English PrisonersDickens, Charles
General
The Perils of Certain English Prisoners
Dickens, Charles
English fiction -- 19th century
A quick sort of council was held, and Captain Maryon soon resolved that
we must all fall to work to get the cargo out, and that when that was
done, the guns and heavy matters must be got out, and that the sloop must
be hauled ashore, and careened, and the leak stopped. We were all
mustered (the Pirate-Chace party volunteering), and told off into
parties, with so many hours of spell and so many hours of relief, and we
all went at it with a will. Christian George King was entered one of the
party in which I worked, at his own request, and he went at it with as
good a will as any of the rest. He went at it with so much heartiness,
to say the truth, that he rose in my good opinion almost as fast as the
water rose in the ship. Which was fast enough, and faster.
Mr. Commissioner Pordage kept in a red-and-black japanned box, like a
family lump-sugar box, some document or other, which some Sambo chief or
other had got drunk and spilt some ink over (as well as I could
understand the matter), and by that means had given up lawful possession
of the Island. Through having hold of this box, Mr. Pordage got his
title of Commissioner. He was styled Consul too, and spoke of himself as
"Government."
He was a stiff-jointed, high-nosed old gentleman, without an ounce of fat
on him, of a very angry temper and a very yellow complexion. Mrs.
Commissioner Pordage, making allowance for difference of sex, was much
the same. Mr. Kitten, a small, youngish, bald, botanical and
mineralogical gentleman, also connected with the mine--but everybody
there was that, more or less--was sometimes called by Mr. Commissioner
Pordage, his Vice-commissioner, and sometimes his Deputy-consul. Or
sometimes he spoke of Mr. Kitten, merely as being "under Government."
The beach was beginning to be a lively scene with the preparations for
careening the sloop, and with cargo, and spars, and rigging, and water-
casks, dotted about it, and with temporary quarters for the men rising up
there out of such sails and odds and ends as could be best set on one
side to make them, when Mr. Commissioner Pordage comes down in a high
fluster, and asks for Captain Maryon. The Captain, ill as he was, was
slung in his hammock betwixt two trees, that he might direct; and he
raised his head, and answered for himself.
"Captain Maryon," cries Mr. Commissioner Pordage, "this is not official.
This is not regular."
"Sir," says the Captain, "it hath been arranged with the clerk and
supercargo, that you should be communicated with, and requested to render
any little assistance that may lie in your power. I am quite certain
that hath been duly done."
"Captain Maryon," replied Mr. Commissioner Pordage, "there hath been no
written correspondence. No documents have passed, no memoranda have been
made, no minutes have been made, no entries and counter-entries appear in
the official muniments. This is indecent. I call upon you, sir, to
desist, until all is regular, or Government will take this up."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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