On the present occasion Norris’s services were, however, accepted, and all in the berth who could get leave agreed to go. Some of the Tudor’s midshipmen who were on board the frigate offered to bring on the things if they were not ready.
“No! no! thank ye,” answered Higson, cocking his eye, “I’ve a notion that clean linen would be plentiful aboard the corvette, and by the time it reached us it would be ready again for the laundress.”
He, however, accepted their offer to accompany the expedition. As the wind was light and off shore they got leave to take the jolly-boat, being able easily to land in her. Under the guidance of Higson they made their way up the hill to Senhora Lobo’s abode. A stream ran near it, on the banks of which half-a-dozen women were kneeling battering away, fine as well as coarse articles of clothing on some rough granite slabs, occasionally rubbing them as a change, with might and main on the hard stones, singing at the same time as they rubbed, or stopping occasionally to laugh and chatter. Among them was discovered Senhora Lobo or Mother Lobo, as Higson designated her, battering away harder than anybody at one of his shirts, as an example to her handmaidens. She rose from her knees, twisting tightly the dripping garment, not to lose time, as she recognised the young gentlemen, when Norris for a wonder made her comprehend more by signs than words, that as the ship was about to sail they must have their clothes immediately.
“Amañaä? to-morrow?” asked Senhora Lobo.
“No, no, ‘esta noite,’ to-night,” answered Norris vehemently.
The washerwoman consulted with her attendants. Piles of wet linen lay on the ground, but a quantity had not yet seen the water. After a considerable amount of jabbering and talking, it was agreed that the task could be accomplished. The sun was hot, and the gentlemen must not be very particular about the ironing. While one half of the damsels set to work again in the stream, the rest, headed by the mistress, began to hang up the washed articles, a young girl being despatched apparently for further assistance. This looked like being in earnest, and the dame assured Norris that the things should be ready by ten o’clock. How to spend the intermediate time was the question, and a ramble into the country was agreed on. Had they been wise they would have secured some mules or donkeys to convey the clothes to the beach. They had, however, undertaken to carry the bags themselves, and were resolved heroically to persevere. They set off on their ramble, Tom and Gerald, and the other youngsters, skylarking as usual. They expected to fall in with some venda, or wine-shop, where they could obtain the refreshment they should require before returning, and Dick Needham was sent back with an order for the boat to come for them at the appointed hour. After rambling to a considerable distance, they began to feel hungry, but in vain they searched for a venda. Fortunately at this juncture they fell in with an Englishman on horseback, to whom they made their wants known.
“Come along with me,” he answered; “I will show you a place where you can get some food.”
Turning to the right, he led them through a gateway, along a walk bordered by orange-trees, myrtles, geraniums, ever-blossoming rose-trees, and numberless other plants and flowers, up to a bungalow-style of building, from the verandah of which a fine view could be enjoyed over the bay, with the town in the distance, and the hills on either side.
“This looks like a regular first-class boarding-house; we shall have to pay handsomely,” whispered Tom to Gerald; “but never mind, we shall enjoy ourselves, and I am terribly sharp-set!”
“Make yourselves at home, gentlemen,” said their guide; “supper will soon be on the table.”