CHAPTER XI.
LAUNCESTON.
"What time do you expect to make Launceston, Mr. Wilson?" asked Hal, of the chief officer of the Pateena during his watch.
"At mid-day, all being well, sir."
"Do you remember having a passenger named Wyckliffe, on board during your last trip across?"
"Wyckliffe, or Wyck, as they called him—rather, do I not?—the funniest thing I ever saw"—here Wilson fairly roared at the recollection of the incident. This interested the boys, and they begged Wilson to tell them the joke.
"There was a lady in it, I bet," said Hal.
"You are right; there was. It was like this. We had a pretty big passenger list, and amongst them was a Mr. Goodchild and his daughter—but perhaps you know them?"
On being assured the contrary, he continued:
"This Goodchild is a very wealthy squatter, and lives about twenty miles from Launceston. He made his money in the early days: how I don't know, but he had something to do with convicts. At any rate, he's very rich, and owns a lot of country. His only daughter, May, is a girl of twenty-one, with about as pretty a face as one can see in a day's march. Goody—as we call him behind his back—adores this girl. She is everything to him, and he lives for her; he jealously watches her and wards off every man who comes near her. He once nearly snapped my head off for bringing her a chair. She is a good girl and tries her best to please and humour him in every way, taking very little notice of anybody else. This Wyckliffe seemed to have no difficulty in making himself popular with the ladies, and began to pay special attention to Miss Goody. Old Goody noticed this, and twice carried his daughter away from him. Tea being over, old Goody had stayed below to finish one of his yarns, and did not notice his daughter had left the saloon. Coming to an interesting episode, he happened to look round, and missed his daughter. That yarn was never finished, for he rushed on deck, and sure enough found those two promenading arm in arm. He tore the girl away, and carried her below, shouting out to Wyck: 'I'll come back and deal with you directly, you infernal scoundrel. You reprobate, etc., etc.' 'A nice evening, Mr. Goodchild,' answered Wyck, as cool as possible, 'I'm sorry you are cross.' Well, old Goody kept his daughter down below, and wandered about himself in a frenzied condition. My watch was up at twelve, and we had a whiskey together before turning in. About four bells I heard a tremendous row; jumped out of my bunk, and ran up on deck, and the sight that met my eyes nearly killed me with laughter. It appeared that both Miss Goody and Wyck had made the acquaintance of an engaged couple who spent the whole voyage in spooning. They did not like to go on deck by themselves at such an early hour, and so had arranged that Wyck and Miss Goody should join them. This plan was carried out, and all four were having a jolly time when old Goody, unable to sleep, came on deck for a little fresh air, and was in the midst of them before they guessed their danger. Then the fun commenced. Wyck pushed Miss Goody on one side, and the old chap, with a war-whoop, made for him, but came seriously to grief by catching his foot in one of the hawsers; and, falling on his stomach, lay there yelling 'Murder!' Both Wyck and his daughter tried to help him up, but when he found who it was, he chased him round the deck. The noise was terrifying, and the picture the ship presented was intensely amusing. Ladies and children in their night-gear, gentlemen in pyjamas, all had rushed up in their excitement, feeling sure the ship was wrecked and, seeing Goody racing about, forgot all about their appearance, and enjoyed the fun. Suddenly an old maid appeared in her dressing-gown and, catching sight of her niece in worse than deshabille, shouted out, 'Maria, come here, you disgraceful creature. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.' That was the signal for them all to realise their position, and it was a case of 'rats to their holes.' In two minutes the deck was clear. It was the joke of the voyage, but did not end there, for when old Goody, looking very cross, accompanied his daughter to breakfast next day, he took care to seat her and himself in two vacant chairs which were occupied on either side. Goody had an excellent appetite, and did full justice to the good things provided, but he was so fully engaged that he did not notice that the young man on his daughter's right, had slipped away to another seat. Wyck came down and seeing the vacant chair, took possession of it, much to the amusement of all around. While old Goody was engaged in devouring a large helping of curry, and was in the act of raising his cup to wash down an extra large mouthful, he suddenly caught sight of Wyck talking to his daughter. His amazement, his rage and his greediness acting altogether at the same moment, brought about a calamity. He tried to swallow his food; he tried to put down his cup; he tried to swear and he tried to catch hold of Wyck all at once, and the result was disaster. The curry stuck in his throat, the coffee spilt all down his shirt-front, and in the struggle his chair gave way beneath him and he was landed on the floor with half the table on the top of him. There he lay sputtering, kicking and swearing, and the shrieks of laughter from the other passengers were almost deafening; in fact so great was the noise that the steerage passengers and crew came bolting to the cabin. Goody was borne off to his cabin, and he kept his daughter by him until we were at the wharf. We all supposed that Wyck was a lover of hers, but since then I have heard he met her here for the first time. But there goes the breakfast bell, and you had better secure your chairs," said he, abruptly, and as the captain came on deck he hustled the two from the bridge.