CHAPTER XX. EMEUTE AMONG THE STEWARDS.
SEVERAL days had passed ere we again introduce the reader to the cell of the imprisoned stewards. The captain of the Janson had been assured by Mr. Grimshaw that every thing was comfortable at the jail, and Manuel would be well cared for. Confiding in this, the activity of the consul to bring the matter before the proper authorities-and the manner in which his own time was engrossed with his business-left him no opportunity to visit Manuel at the jail. Tommy and one of the sailors had carried him his hammock, and a few things from the ship's stores; and with this exception, they had but little to eat for several days. Copeland had but a few days more to remain, and, together with those who were with him, had exhausted their means, in providing from day to day, during their imprisonment. The poor woman who did their washing, a generous-hearted mulatto, had brought them many things, for which she asked no compensation. Her name was Jane Bee, and when the rules of the jail made every man his own washerwoman, she frequently washed for those who had nothing to pay her. But her means were small, and she worked hard for a small pittance, and had nothing to bring them for several days. They were forced to take the allowance of bread, but could not muster resolution to eat the sickly meat.
Those who had suffered from it before, took it as a natural consequence, looking to the time of their release, as if it was to bring a happy change in their lives. But Manuel felt that it was an unprecedented outrage upon his feelings, and was determined to remonstrate against it. He knocked loudly at the door, and some of the prisoners hearing it, reported to the jailer, who sent Daley to answer it. As soon as the door was opened, he rushed past, and succeeded in gaining the iron door that opened into the vestibule, where he could converse with the Jailer, through the grating, before Daley could stop him.
The jailer seeing him at the grating, anticipated his complaint. “Well, Pereira,—what's the matter up-stairs?” said he.
“For God's sake, jailer, what am I put in here for-to starve? We cannot eat the meat you send us, and we have had little else than bread and water for three days. Do give us something to eat, and charge it to consul, or Captain, an' I'll pay it from my wages when I get out, if I ever do,” said he.
“My dear fellow!” said the jailer, “no one knows your case better than I do; but I am poor, and the restrictions which I am under allow me no privileges. You had all better take your meat in the morning-if you won't take soup-and try to cook it, or get Jane to do it for you. I will give you some coffee and bread from my own table, to-night, and you better say as little about it as possible, for if Grimshaw hears it, he may lock you up.”
“Do, I shall be very thankful, for we are really suffering from hunger, in our cell, and I pay you when I get money from Captain,” said Manuel, manifesting his thankfulness at the jailer's kindness.
“I will send it up in a few minutes, but you needn't trouble yourself about pay-I wouldn't accept it!” said the jailer; and as good as his word, he sent them up a nice bowl of coffee for each, and some bread, butter, and cheese. They partook of the humble fare, with many thanks to the donor. Having despatched it, they seated themselves upon the floor, around the faint glimmer of a tin lamp, while Copeland read the twentieth and twenty-first chapters of the Acts of the Apostles. Copeland was a pious negro, and his behaviour during his imprisonment enlisted the respect of every one in jail. Singular as the taste may seem, he had his corner in the cell decorated with little framed prints. Among them we noticed one of the crucifixion, and another of the Madonna. After reading the chapters, they retired to their hard beds. About nine o'clock the next morning, Daley came to the door with a piece of neck meat, so tainted and bloody that its smell and looks more than satisfied the stomach.
“Here it is, boys,” said he; “yer four pound, but ye's better take soup, cos ye'll niver cook that bone, anyhow.”