“Very extraordinary,” commented I, stifling a prodigious yawn. “And now, Mr Carter, with your kind permission I will go below and lie down, for I feel pretty well tired out.”
“Ay, that I’ll be bound you do,” agreed Carter. “This way, Mr Grenvile, and look out for the coamin’—it’s a bit extra high.”
And, so saying, he led the way into a very handsome saloon under the ship’s full poop.
The craft was not a regular Indiaman—that is to say, she was not one of the Honourable East India Company’s ships,—but, for all that, she was a very handsome and comfortable vessel, and her cuddy was most luxuriously fitted up with crimson velvet sofas, capacious revolving armchairs screwed to the deck alongside the tables, a very fine piano, with a quantity of loose music on the top of it, some very handsome pictures in heavy gold frames screwed to the ship’s side between the ports, a magnificent hanging lamp suspended from the centre of the skylight, with a number of smaller lamps, hung in gimbals, over the pictures, a handsome fireplace, with a wide tiled hearth, now filled with pots of plants, a capacious sideboard against the fore bulkhead, a handsome carpet on the deck, and, in fact, everything that could be thought of, within reason, to render a long sea voyage comfortable and pleasant. The saloon occupied the full width of the ship, the sleeping cabins being below.
With pardonable pride Carter turned up the flame of the swinging lamp—which was the only lamp burning at that hour of the night—to give me a glimpse of all this magnificence.
I quite expected that, having, as it were, done the honours of the ship, Carter would now turn down the lamp and leave me to myself; but he still lingered in an uncertain sort of way, as though he would like to say something, but did not quite know how to begin; so at length, to relieve his embarrassment, I said:
“What is it, Mr Carter? I feel sure you want to tell me something.”
“Well,” said he, “it’s a fact that I have got something on my mind that I’d like to get off it; and yet I dare say you’ll think there’s nothing in it when I tells you. The fact is, our present skipper’s a very curious sort of chap, as I expect you’ll find out for yourself afore many hours has gone over your head. Now, I want you to understand, Mr—er—Grenvile, that I’m not sayin’ this because he and I don’t happen to get on very well together—which is a fact; I’m not jealous of him, or of his position, because I couldn’t fill it if ’twas offered to me—I’m not a good enough navigator for that,—but I think it’s only right I should tell you that, as like as not, he’ll not only blow me up sky-high for pickin’ you and your men up, when he finds out that you’re aboard, but, maybe—well, I dunno whether he’ll go quite so far as that, but he may refuse to let you stay aboard, and order you to take to your boats again. Now, if he should—I don’t say he will, mind you, but if he should do any such thing, take my advice, and don’t go. I don’t know how he may be to-morrow. If he kept sober after he turned in he’ll be all right, I don’t doubt; but if he took a bottle to bed with him—as he’s lately got into the habit of doin’—the chances are that he’ll turn out as savage as a bear with a sore head; and then everybody, fore and aft—passengers and all—will have to stand by and look out for squalls!”
“Thanks, Mr Carter, very much, for mentioning this,” I said. “You gave me a pretty broad hint as to what I might expect, out there on deck, just now, and you may rest assured that I shall not forget it. And you may also rest assured that, should he so far forget what is due to humanity as to order me to leave the ship, I will flatly decline to go.”
“Of course, sir, of course you will, and quite right too,” commented Carter. “But I’m glad to hear ye say so, all the same. It’ll be a great comfort to me—and to the passengers too—to feel that we’ve got a naval officer aboard, if things should happen to go at all crooked. And now, Mr Grenvile, havin’ said my say, I’ll wish ye good-night, and hope you’ll be able to get a good sound sleep between this and morning.”