“Wait till you are kicked yourself and then cry out,” was the answer.
Mr Henley could make no reply to this remark, but walked quietly away. He took good care, however, that while he was on dock none of his inferiors should bully anybody; and I, to the best of my power, assisted him. I soon found that I had made mortal enemies of Sills and Broom, who had never liked me. Several times I reported them to Mr Henley for striking the men and using foul language towards them. They called me a sneak and a tell-tale, and said that I was fitter for a nursery or a girls’ boarding school than to come to sea. I said that I saw nothing sneaking in preventing men from being ill-treated, and reminded them of a proverb I had met with, “That curses, like pigeons, are sure to come home to roost at night.”
“Hang your proverbs—what do you mean?” exclaimed Broom.
“That curses are sure to recoil on the heads of those who utter them,” I answered. “I earnestly hope that the dreadful ones to which you have been giving expression may not overtake you; but remember, that though he may delay, God’s arm is not shortened that he cannot strike.”
“Now you have taken to quoting Scripture, you canting hypocrite,” cried Sills. “Do you think we are afraid of any such thing happening to us? Our curses may come back for what we care.”
“Oh, it’s all humbug! Nothing you can say will make me hold my tongue,” added Broom, with a hoarse laugh.
“In mercy to yourself do not say such things,” I exclaimed, as I turned away from my two messmates.
Mr Henley had warned me, when some days before I had observed that I hoped the captain had improved, that before long he would break out as bad as ever. Such in a few days I unhappily found to be the case. Not only did he become as bad, but worse than ever, and I heard Dr Cuff tell Mr Henley that he did not think that he could possibly survive such continued hard drinking. The first mate overheard the remark, which was made probably in kindness as a warning to him. It had in one respect the effect intended. He kept himself perfectly sober, and attended carefully to the navigation of the ship; but I could not help strongly suspecting that he was seized with the ambition of becoming captain, and of having to take the ship home. Mr Henley and the doctor thought so likewise, for he at once assumed the airs of a master, and became more dictatorial and overbearing than ever.
There lay the wretched captain, unconscious, in his berth, and of course this man was virtually in command of the ship. One day, after we had been rather more than a week at sea, I had called Tommy Bigg aft, and was speaking to him, directing him to do something or other, when Mr Grimes came up close to us.
“What do you do here?—go forward to your kennel, you young—,” he exclaimed, with an oath.