At length, with a gesture of savage impatience, he folded up the paper, slipped it into his breast-pocket, and went off to the tent, from which he presently emerged again followed by two very sick-and-sorry, unwilling-looking members of his gang. The trio tumbled into one of the boats, shoved off, and headed directly for the brig. Miss Onslow was on deck with me, but as soon as I saw that the little party intended boarding the brig, I directed her attention to their condition, and requested her to retire out of sight to her cabin, which she did, very submissively, somewhat to my surprise.
The distance from the shore to the brig was but short, and in a few minutes the boat was alongside, and O’Gorman on deck, his two companions electing to spare themselves the fatigue of dragging themselves up the brig’s side, and stretching themselves out upon the thwarts instead, with their caps drawn over their faces, in which position they almost immediately fell asleep.
It was evident from O’Gorman’s embarrassed manner as he approached me that he had something to say, or some proposition to make, without exactly knowing how best to set about it. It seemed to me that he had unexpectedly found himself in some way at a serious disadvantage, but was anxious above all things to prevent my discovering his predicament. Then he was civil, which I had learned to accept as an unerring indication that he wished to inveigle me into consciously or unconsciously rendering him a service.
“The top o’ the mornin’ to ye, misther,” he began. “I hopes that you and the lady slept well last night, in this quiet, snug little harbour; havin’ the brig all to yourselves, too.”
“Ay,” retorted I; “and having to prepare our own supper last night, and our breakfast this morning. As for quiet, the place is quiet enough; it is the drunken blackguards occupying it that make all the row. Oh yes, we slept well enough, thank you—after the crowd ashore had guzzled themselves into a state of drunken insensibility.”
“Begorra, thin,” he exclaimed, in affected surprise, “did the shpalpeens keep ye awake? Whoy, Oi’d have thought you’d have heard the sorra a sound out here. But it’s not goin’ to happen again; it was just a bit of a jollification we threated ourselves to upon the strength of foindin’ the oiland all right; but there’ll be no more of it—barrin’, maybe, a bit of a spree when our work’s done here, and we’re ready to sail for home again. And, as to your breakfast, bedad Oi forgot it intoirely, but Oi’ll send the shteward off, wid ordhers that he’s to do nothin’ but just wait upon ye and the lady, and make things comfortable for ye.”
“What the mischief does he want me to do for him?” wondered I. “It must be something of especial moment, or he would never be so extraordinarily civil and obliging!”
But I merely answered:
“Thanks! It was part of our agreement, you will remember, that we were to be properly looked after, and waited upon. And, while we are upon the subject, there is another matter I should like to mention. It is exceedingly close and stuffy below, in this climate, and I should therefore like to have an awning, or something of the kind, rigged up abaft here, so that I may be able to arrange sleeping places on deck for Miss Onslow and myself while we are lying here.”
“An awning is it?” exclaimed O’Gorman, with effusion. “Begorra ye shall have that same, and welcome as the flowers of spring. Ay, and Oi’ll send ye off a topsail to throw over the spanker-boom and so make ye two illigant staterooms, one on each side the deck.”