Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen Bess — John Shaqi
Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen BessCollingwood, Harry
General
Two Gallant Sons of Devon: A Tale of the Days of Queen Bess
Collingwood, Harry
Adventure and adventurers -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
He awoke, as from a delightful dream, when, the meal being finished,
Marshall arose from his chair and invited his guests to accompany him
out on deck. It was quite dark when they emerged from the cabin; so
dark indeed that for a moment, their eyes being still dazzled by the
bright light of the cabin lamp, they groped their way like blind men,
and were fain to stand still, clinging to whatsoever their hands
happened to find. Then, their sight coming to them again, they followed
Marshall up the poop ladder, and stood, staring out upon a night of
blusterous wind and faintly phosphorescent, foam-capped sea; of flying
clouds amid which the stars twinkled mistily and vanished, to re-appear
presently with the tall spars and swelling canvas of the ship swaying
dizzily and black among them; a night full of unaccustomed sounds of
creaking and groaning timbers, of the splashing and roaring of water
under the ship's bows, along her bends, and about her rudder; of strange
sighings and moanings aloft; and of the low murmur of men's voices as
the watch clustered under the shelter of the towering forecastle,
discussing, mayhap, like their superiors aft, the prospects of the
voyage.
The Captain peered about him on either side of the ship, anon stooping
to send his glances forward into the darkness beyond the heaving bows;
then he hailed the lookouts upon the forecastle, demanding in sharp,
imperative tones whether there were sail of any kind in sight. The
answer was in the negative.
"Well, my masters," said he, turning to Stukely and Chichester, "you see
how it is; there is nothing in sight; and every mile that we travel
lessens your chance of our falling in with anything into which we can
transfer you. If this good breeze holds--as I trust in God that it
will--we shall be off Falmouth shortly after midnight, but much too far
out to render it at all likely that we shall sight any of its fishing
craft; and, once to the westward of Falmouth, your last chance of
getting ashore will be gone. Now, what say ye? Will ye, without more
ado, up and join us? I talked the matter over with my partners while
you were changing your duds before supper, and I can find room in the
ship for both of you. We have no surgeon with us, so that berth will
fit you finely, Mr Stukely; while, as for you, my young son of Anak,"
turning to Chichester, "a lad of your thews and sinews can always earn
his keep aboard ship. But I can offer ye something better than the
berth of ship's boy; we have but one carpenter among us, and I will
gladly take you on with the rating of carpenter's mate, if that will
suit ye. Iss, fegs, that I will! Now, what say ye? Shall us call it a
bargain, and have done wi' it?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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