Neither was Butter-faced Bob rash or indiscreet where his own interests were affected. Using a metaphor he had picked up from his customers, it was his boast that he could “keep a bright look-out, and steer small” with the best of them; and he now impressed on Captain George, with great earnestness, the necessity of secrecy and caution in getting the three fresh hands down to the quay and tumbling them up the side of the brigantine.
Had the Captain known their inclinations, he might have made his own bargain, and saved three-fourths of the expense, but his landlord took care that in such cases the principals should never come together, telling the officers they could make what terms they chose when the men found themselves fairly trapped and powerless in blue water, while he kept the latter in a state of continuous inebriety so long as they dwelt in his house, which rendered them utterly reckless of everything but liquor and tobacco.
His shining face wore the well-satisfied expression of a man who has performed a good action, while he motioned with his thumb to the adjoining tap-room.
“I’ve a cart ready in the back yard,” said he, “and a few empty casks to tumble in along with our chaps. It will only look like the fresh water going aboard, so as you may weigh with the morning tide. Will they send a boat off if you show a light?”
Captain George nodded. The boatswain whom he had left in charge, and on whom he could rely, had directions for a certain code of signals, amongst which, the waving of a lantern thrice from the end of the quay was to be answered by a boat ashore.
“We’d best get them in at once, then,” said Bob, only anxious now to be rid of his guests. “I’ll go and put the horse to, and perhaps you and me and the French gentleman, as he seems a friend of yours, can manage it between us.”
Accordingly, Bob betook himself to the back yard and the stable, while Beaudésir was summoned to assist the process of embarkation. In ten minutes all was prepared, and it was only necessary to lift the three drunken tars into the carriage provided for them.
With the two elder and heavier men there was no difficulty. They grunted, indeed, impatiently, though without opening their eyes, and seemed to sleep as soundly, while being dragged along a dusty passage and hoisted into a narrow cart amongst empty water-casks, as if they took their rest habitually under such disadvantages; but Slap-Jack’s younger constitution had not been so completely overcome, and it was necessary to soothe him by a fiction which has possessed in all times an indescribable charm for the seafaring imagination.
Bob whispered impressively in his ear that he had been sent for, thus in the dead of night, by the Admiral’s daughter, who had conceived for him a fatal and consuming passion, having seen him in his “long togs” in the street. Muttering inarticulately about “Alice,” Slap-Jack at once abandoned himself to the illusion, and dropped off to sleep again, with delightful anticipations of the romantic fate in store for him.
As the wheels rumbled over the rough streets, through the rainy gusts and the dark night, followed by Captain George and Beaudésir, the latter could not but compare the vehicle to a dead-cart, carrying away its burden through some city stricken with the plague. This pleasing fancy he communicated to his comrade, who made the following inconsequent reply—