Chapter Thirteen.
Ralli explains himself; so does Lance.
On entering the assembly-room, our friends found that it was not only, as they had seen from the outside, well lighted, but that a very successful attempt had been made to decorate it by the draping of flags all round the walls, and the arrangement of an elaborate and well-designed flag-trophy on the wall at the back of the elevated platform, or stage, as it may be called. The long table, with its accompaniment of chairs, had been pushed back against the wall, and the pianoforte stood in the centre of the platform. The room was quite full, and the men appeared, for the most part, disposed to behave quietly and decorously. There were only some half a dozen young fellows who seemed at all inclined to be noisy or boisterous, and they occupied seats in the centre of the room. Johnson occupied a chair on one side of the platform, and Ralli balanced him on the opposite side. Johnson appeared rather surprised to see four of the Galatea party put in an appearance instead of one only; but he made no remark, merely waving them to accommodate themselves with chairs from those placed against the wall.
“I am rather better than my word, you see,” observed Lance to him as the four friends stepped upon the platform.
“I promised to do what I could in the way of furnishing your people with a little entertainment to-night, and I have brought three volunteers with me, which will enable us to infuse into the proceedings a little more variety than I could hope to impart to them alone.”
“So much the better, colonel,” returned Johnson. “It’s real kind of you, I call it; and if the lads don’t appreciate it, they ought to; that’s all I can say. I’ve told ’em what you’re going to do for ’em and all that; so, as soon as you’re ready, I guess you can fire away.”
Lance turned and opened the piano, looking quietly over the audience as he did so. His eye fell upon the half-dozen who seemed disposed to interrupt the proceedings, and stepping forward to the edge of the platform, he waved his hand for silence and said—
“Your captain informs me that he has already explained to you the reason for his invitation to you to be present here this evening. To-day has been a somewhat notable day in the annals of the settlement. You have this morning laid the keel of a new ship, and commenced an undertaking which will tax your utmost skill, energy, and resource to carry through to a successful issue; and Captain Johnson has thought it an event of sufficient importance to be specially marked. Hence he has made it a holiday for all hands; and, finding that I possessed some little skill as a musician, he invited me to help in the celebration of the day by closing it with a musical performance. This I willingly consented to do, in the belief that it might afford you a little pleasure and recreation; and I may as well take advantage of the present opportunity to tell you all that my friends and myself will always be found ready to do everything in our power to promote your comfort and welfare. But I must remind you that we are here to-night for your pleasure rather than our own. We will do our best to amuse you, and I hope that you in your turn will individually do what you can to maintain quiet and order. We may not perhaps succeed in pleasing you all; if such should be the case, let those who are dissatisfied rise and quietly leave, and not disturb others, or interfere with their enjoyment by giving noisy expression to their dissatisfaction, I notice one or two who seem inclined to be a little unruly, but I hope they have sense enough to see that such conduct on their part would be in the worst possible taste, and that they will think better of it.”
Loud exclamations of approval greeted this speech, mingled with shouts of “If they don’t behave themselves we’ll turn ’em out, guv’nor,” and such like. There was a good deal of noise and confusion for about five minutes, during which Lance calmly seated himself and waited patiently for silence; and, when this was at length restored, he went to the piano and sang to his own accompaniment Dibdin’s “Tom Bowline.” Lance possessed a full deep rich bass voice of exceptionally fine quality; and as the words of the song pealed through the room, a breathless silence was maintained by his strange audience,—the silence of surprise and delight. Many of the men knew the song; had sung it or heard it sung hundreds of times on a ship’s forecastle during the dog-watch; but not one of them had probably ever heard it sung before by a man of refined feeling, capable of expressing the full sentiment of the words, and it now came upon them almost like a revelation. Sailors as a class are proverbially fond of music, but very few of them ever have—or, perhaps it would be more true to say, give themselves—the opportunity to hear anything of better quality than the trash sung in music-halls; and most, if not all, of Lance’s audience now therefore experienced for the first time the refining power of really good music. Their enthusiastic applause at the conclusion of the song was perfectly deafening. Captain Staunton then stepped forward and sang in true seamanlike style “The Bay of Biscay,” the chorus of which was given with great unction and enjoyment by the whole audience.
Rex Fortescue followed with “The Death of Nelson;” and then Bob gave in excellent style a laughable recitation, which convulsed his audience, even to the tickling of the sullen Ralli into a grim smile. Then Lance sang again; and so the entertainment proceeded for a couple of hours, to the unbounded gratification of all hands, when the pirates dispersed in a perfectly quiet and orderly manner, after giving, at Johnson’s call, three cheers for their entertainers.