“Won’t you give it up and come on shore with us?” asked Dick, thinking that I must be leading a very hard life.
“No, thank you,” I answered. “Matters are improving. I got a thrashing the first day and have never had one since. It has been blowing pretty hard till now, but we shall have fine weather in time, and I shall like the life very well. It is better to begin with the rough and to end with the smooth than the other way.”
“Rightly said, Jack,” observed my father, well pleased to see me so contented.
I sent many loving messages to my mother and sisters, not forgetting Mary and Captain Bland, and after he had had a short conversation with Medley and another with the captain he returned on shore. I felt somewhat sad while I watched him and Dick as they pulled away, and had I then been asked to go with them I should have said yes; however, the feeling soon wore off and I went on with my ordinary duties as if home and all I held dear were not almost in sight.
Again we were under weigh, but it came on to blow as hard as ever from the old quarter. Still we kept at it, beating down channel with the seas breaking over our bows. I was just going along the deck with some of the cabin dinner when, the ship diving into a heavier sea than usual, I found myself washed clean over the windlass, a piece of boiled beef flying in one direction, a dumpling in another, and potatoes and turnips scattered on every side. I rushed here and there to save as many as I could, and, helped by the cook and Medley, I collected the greater portion, but the captain looked very blue when I placed the food all cold and sodden on the table. It spoke well for him that he did not blow me up; but he knew that it was not from my fault that his dinner was spoilt, and I dare say that the same thing had occurred to him when he was a youngster.
I had just returned on deck, where the first mate, shouting “Helm’s alee!” was in the act of putting the ship about, when, as I was going forward, I saw Medley with two other men, one of whom was John Major, an ordinary seaman, standing a short distance from me. Suddenly I heard a dull thud as if a heavy blow had been struck, followed by a piercing shriek. The clew of the mainsail was lashing about wildly in the gale. I saw a body lifted from the deck and carried over the bulwarks. It was but a momentary glimpse. I could scarcely have told whether or not it was a human being I had seen till I looked towards where the three persons had been standing. One was gone. The mate instantly hove the ship up into the wind, a grating and some spars were thrown overboard, and the captain, rushing on deck, ordered a boat to be lowered. Notwithstanding the dangerously heavy sea running, a willing crew, with the second mate, jumped into her. Not seeing Medley I ran to the side, fearing that he was the victim. I saw the grating and spars, but could nowhere perceive a man’s head amid the foaming billows. I expected every moment as I watched the boat tumbling and tossing about that she would be swamped. The captain and first mate were looking anxiously towards the place where the poor fellow must have fallen, but their countenances showed that they did not see him.
“He’s lost, I fear,” said a voice near me. I turned and saw Medley by my side. I was greatly relieved.
“Who has gone?” I asked.
“John Major,” he answered. “He was speaking to me at the moment.”
“Very awful,” I remarked, “so suddenly to be called out of the world.”