Chapter Three.
After I had taken Macquoid’s nauseous draught, I went and lay down on my chest. I chose that spot because, from the uncomfortable position in which I was obliged to place myself, I was not likely to go to sleep, and because I was there better able to hear when the boats’ crews were called away. I could not help now and then giving way to a groan, which the sickness and pain of the physic produced.
“Who’s that?” I heard old Perigal inquire, as he was passing to the berth.
“Oh, it’s only that little sneak Merry,” Spellman answered. “He thinks that he may be ordered off in the boat, and is shamming sick to escape, as if such a hop-o’-my-thumb as he is could be of any use.”
“That is not like him. I consider him a very plucky little fellow,” remarked Perigal.
“Thank you, old boy,” I said mentally. “And you, Miss Susan, I’ll be even with you some day for your obliging remarks.”
I cannot say, however, that I felt any enmity towards Spellman on that account. I had not respect enough for him. I would rather, however, have parted with more kindly feelings towards all my messmates on so dangerous an expedition. I could not help thinking over the matter while lying so long silent by myself, but my resolution to accomplish my design was not shaken. My messmates went into the berth, and just then I heard the boats piped away. I ran quickly upon deck, and, while the men were buckling on their cutlasses, I slipped into the pinnace, and stowed myself, as before, into so small a space that even the boatswain, who looked into the boat, did not perceive me. I knew that he looked for me, because I heard his gruff voice say, “All right; he’s not there. He’s thought better of it.” At about half-past nine the final order to shove off was given, and away we went. I got fewer kicks this time, for I took good care to keep my legs out of the way. The men, also, I suspect, guessed that I was there. I knew that I was perfectly safe with them.
The flotilla consisted of fifteen boats, containing nearly three hundred officers and men, not counting myself. After we had got, as I supposed, about a couple of miles from the ship, and I knew that I could not be sent back, I ventured to crawl out and look over the gunnel. The inky sea around us was dotted with boats, all the party keeping pretty close together. The night was so dark that I could see little more than their outlines, as they crept rapidly along, like many-footed monsters, over the deep. I did not fancy that Mr Johnson knew I was there, but his sharp eyes made me out through the gloom.
“Mr Merry, step aft, if you please, sir,” he bawled out suddenly.
Stepping over the oars, I went and sat myself down by him, but said nothing.