Paul Gerrard, the Cabin Boy

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Paul agreed, though they were not sorry when daylight came and warned them to look out for a resting-place. They saw a forest some way from the high road, and, going into it, before long discovered numerous piles of wood prepared for burning.

“They are not likely to be removed for some time,” observed O’Grady; “if they do, they will begin on the outer ones, and we shall have time to decamp. Let’s make ourselves some nests inside; see, there is plenty of dry grass, and we shall sleep as comfortable as on beds of down.”

By removing some of the logs the work was easily accomplished, and no one outside would have observed what they had done. They crept in, and were very soon fast asleep. They awoke perfectly rested, and prepared to resume their journey; but on looking out they found that it was not much past noon, and that they had the greater part of the day to wait. This they did not at all like. O’Grady was for pushing on in spite of their first resolutions; Paul wished to remain patiently till the evening. No one had come to remove the wood, so that they were not likely to be disturbed. As they were hungry they ate some dinner, emptying their bottle of wine, and then tried to go to sleep again—not a difficult task for midshipmen.

Paul, after some time, was awoke by hearing some one singing. He touched O’Grady’s arm. They listened. The words were English, and they both had an idea that they knew the voice. The singer appeared to be near, and employed in removing the logs of wood. Paul slowly lifted up his head. A shout and an expression indicative of astonishment escaped from the singer, who stood, like one transfixed, gazing at Paul. The shout made O’Grady lift up his head, and they had ample time to contemplate the strange figure before them. His dress was of the most extraordinary patchwork, though blue and white predominated. On his head, instead of a hat, he wore a wisp of straw, secured by a handkerchief; his feet were also protected by wisps of straw, and round his waist he wore a belt with an axe stuck in it. Altogether, he did not look like a man possessed with much of this world’s wealth. The midshipmen looked at him, and he looked at the midshipmen, for a minute or more without speaking.

“It is—no it isn’t—yes it is!” exclaimed the man at length. “Why, young gentlemen, is it really you? you looks so transmogrified, I for one shouldn’t have known you!”

“What, Reuben Cole, is it really you? I may ask,” cried Paul, springing out of his lair, and shaking him by the hand, followed by O’Grady. “This is a fortunate meeting.”

“Why, that’s as it may turn out; but how did you come to look like that?”

Paul told him, and then put the same question to him.

“Why, do ye see, when I got away from our Jennydams, I found a hole in the hillside close under where I jumped off the road. Thinks I to myself, if I tumbles in here, they’ll all go pelting away down the hill through the wood, leaving me snug; and so they did. I heard them halloing, and cursing, and swearing at one another, and I all the time felt just like an old fox in his cover till they’d gone away on their road wondering where I’d gone. I then started up and ran down the hill just in time to see a cart driven by a man in white. I shouted, but he didn’t hear me, and so I hoped it would be all right for you, at all events. Then I went back to my hole, and thinks I to myself, if I goes wandering about in this guise I’ll sure to be taken: so I remembers that I’d got in my pocket the housewife my old mother gave me, and which the rascally privateer’s-men hadn’t stolen; so out I takes it and sets to work to make up my clothes in a new fashion. I couldn’t make myself into a mounseer—little or big—by no manner of means, so I just transmogrified my clothes as you see them, that I mightn’t be like a runaway prisoner. It took me two days before I was fit to be seen—pretty smart work; and that’s how the servant the old gentleman sent out missed me. At last I set out for the sea; but I was very hungry, and I can’t say if I’d fallen in with a hen-roost what I’d have done. I got some nuts and fruit though, enough to keep body and soul together. Three days I wandered on, when I found myself in this very wood. I was getting wickedly hungry, and I was thinking I must go out and beg, when I sees a cart and a man coming along, so I up and axes him quite civilly if he’d a bit of a dinner left for a poor fellow. I was taken all aback with astonishment when he speaks to me in English, and tells me that he’d been some months in a prison across the Channel, and knows our lingo, and that he was treated so kindly that he’d sworn he’d never bear arms against us again, if he could help it. With that he gives me some bread and cheese and wine, and when his day’s work was over he takes me to his house, at the borders of the forest, near a village. As I wouldn’t eat the bread of idleness, I offered to help him, and as I can handle an axe with most men, I have been working away ever since as a wood-cutter. Now I know that if you’ll come with me to his cottage, he’ll gladly give you lodging and food as long as you like to stay, and then, of course, I must pack up and be off with you.”

The midshipmen told Reuben how glad they were to find him, though they agreed that by his travelling on with them their difficulties would be somewhat increased, as they were puzzled to know what character he could assume. He was so thoroughly the English sailor that even his very walk would betray him.