Where was Will? Was he not keeping a look-out? Had I arrived sooner than he expected? Nay, was he on board? And, as I thus thought, my heart sinking like lead in my breast with a sudden weight and passion of despair, the dear fellow stepped into the gangway and looked down.
He looked down, but he did not know me. I cried out: ‘Will, oh, Will! There you are! There you are!’
He stared again, but answered no further than by beckoning, whilst he bent his neck inward to glance forward and aft along the decks. A soldier, but without a musket, showed at the side at this instant, and looked over into the boat, whistling. ‘Come up!’ said Will. I sprang on to the grating and ascended the steps.
‘How are you, old fellow?’ exclaimed my cousin, grasping me by the hand, and shaking it warmly, admirably acting the part of one who receives a welcome visitor. ‘This is how we barricade the convicts, do you see? How are all at home? On my word, this is kind of you! My quarters are forward! Come along and smoke a pipe, and then I’ll show you the ship!’
The soldier lounged across the deck and leaned against the barricade, looking at the great hulk, whose topmost tier of grated ports, and whose dingy height of bulwarks and rude, hut-shaped structures forward seemed to tower to half the height of the convict ship’s lower masts. I darted a swift glance round, and observed two figures on the poop, both young fellows. Some soldiers stood forward near the convicts’ galley. A small group of men—lumpers or riggers—at the main hatch within the barricade inclosure were smoking and talking. I had no eyes for anything but the people who were visible. A heavy silence hung upon the hulk, and, saving the voices of the group at the hatchway, all was still on board the Childe Harold, so that you plainly heard the hissing of the strong wind in the rigging, and the quick, fretful splashing of water rippling swift betwixt the two ships.
‘Your visit is exactly timed,’ said Will. ‘The captain’s ashore; the chief mate’s below; the second mate’s indisposed in his cabin, and the third mate’s in the hold. Come!’
He motioned with his hands, as though he showed me the ship. A woman stepped out of one of the galleys with a bucket of hot water, and passed us. She was a pretty young woman, and she glanced at me with a faint smile as she went by.
‘That’s a soldier’s wife,’ said Will, speaking fast but softly, and pointing as though he still showed me the ship. ‘There are several on board, and a number of kids. You’ve well timed your arrival. What marvellous courage you have, and how confoundedly well you look! There never was a smarter sailor—to the eye. Where have you been? Your skin’s brown. Been abroad? Surely not. You haven’t had time. The ship’s almost empty, you see. The crew’ll join at Gravesend, as I told you they would. We have a few runners on board from Deptford, and twenty soldiers in charge of a captain and subaltern—Lord, how I hate soldiers! The convicts embark this afternoon or to-morrow morning. There are only three apprentices, including me, this voyage; two are aft there on the poop. It don’t matter if you are seen. They’ll think you went ashore by way of the hulk. But I must get you below before the chief mate comes on deck. I’m supposed to be keeping a look-out at the gangway, and I mustn’t be missed.’
All this he hurriedly said as we walked forward to his quarters, which, as you may remember, were in a wing of the forecastle on the port or left-hand side. He slid the door open in its grooves and we entered. A couple of hammocks swung under the ceiling; three sea chests were secured along the bulkhead; a little flap table hung opposite those chests, and the rest of the cabin’s equipment consisted of shelves containing tin dishes, pannikins, knives and forks, and such things.
‘I should like to give you a kiss, Marian,’ said he, ‘but it would seem unnatural in that dress.’