Mr. Midshipman Easy by Frederick Marryat (reading tree .TXT) 📖

In which our hero and Gascoigne ought to be ashamed of themselves, and did feel what might be called midshipmite compunction.

THE AURORA continued three weeks at Palermo, during which the most active search had been made for the remainder of the galley-slaves, and some few had been captured, but still Don Silvio, a considerable number, were at large; and it was said that they had retired to the fastnesses in the mountains. Our hero was constantly on shore at Don Rebiera’s house, and, after what had passed, he was now looked upon as soon to become a member of the family. The difference of religion was overlooked by Don Rebiera and the relations-by all but the confessor, Father Thomaso, who now began to agitate and fulminate into the ears of the Donna Rebiera all the pains and penalties attending heretical connection, such as excommunication and utter damnation. The effects of his remonstrances were soon visible, and Jack found that there was constraint on the part of the old lady, tears on the part of Agnes, and all father confessors heartily wished at the devil ten times a day, on the part of Don Philip and his brother. At last he wormed the truth out of Agnes, who told her tale, and wept bitterly.

“Ned, I don’t much like the appearance of things,” observed Jack; “I must get rid of that Father Thomaso.”

“You’ll find that rather difficult,” observed Gascoigne; “besides, if you were rid of him you would have his place filled up with another.’

“He has frightened that poor old woman into the dismals, and she has the pains of purgatory on her already. I shall go and talk to Mesty.”

“How can Mesty help you?”

“I don’t know, but you can’t; so, for want of better advice, I’ll try the Ashantee.”

Our hero went to Mesty, and laid the difficult affair open to him.

“I see,” said Mesty, showing his filed teeth, “you want him skull.”

“No, I don’t, Mesty; but I want him out of the way.”

“How that possible, Massy Easy?-ship sail day after tomorrow.

Now ‘pose I ab time, I soon manage all dat. Stop a little.”

“Confound it! but there’s no stopping,” replied Jack.

“Suppose, Massy Easy, you get leave go on shore-not come off again.”

“That will be deserting, Mesty.”

“By holy poker, I ab it-you go on shore and break your leg.”

“Break my leg!-break my leave, you mean?”

“No, Massy Easy-you break your leg-den captain leave you shore, and leave me to take care of you.”

“But why should I break my leg, and how am I to break my leg?”

“Only pretend break leg, Massa Easy. Go talk Massa Don Philip, he manage all dat.-Suppose man break his leg in seven pieces, it is not possible to take him board.”

“Seven pieces, Mesty! that’s rather too many. However, I’ll think of this.”

Jack then went back and consulted Gascoigne, who approved of Mesty’s advice, and thought the scheme feasible.

“If we could only pretend that we were thrown out of a caricola, you break your leg, a compound fracture of course-I break my arm-both left on shore at sick quarters, with Mesty to take care of us.”

“Capital, indeed,” replied Jack; “I really would not mind it if it really took place; at all events we’ll overturn the caricola.”

“But shall we get leave the last day?”

“Yes, it’s two days since I have been on shore, for I have not liked to go to Don Rebiera’s since what Agnes told me. Besides, my clothes are all on shore, and that will be an excuse for a few hours.”

Our two midshipmen applied for leave the next morning to be off in the afternoon. The first lieutenant gave them permission. They hastened to the hotel, sent for Don Philip, and made him a party to their plan. He readily promised his assistance, for he had resolved that our hero should marry his sister, and was fearful of the effect of his absence, coupled with Friar Thomaso’s influence over his mother. He went to the surgeon of his regiment, who immediately entered into the scheme.

Our two midshipmen got into a caricola, rattled up and down the streets, and perceiving Captain Wilson at his window, flogged the horse into a gallop; when abreast of the barracks Jack ran the wheel against a bank, and threw himself and Gascoigne out. Midshipmen are never hurt by these accidents, but fortunately for the success of the enterprise their faces were cut and bruised. Don Philip was standing by: he called the men to pick up our two scamps, carried them into the barracks, and sent for the surgeons, who undressed them, put Jack’s left leg into a multitude of splints, and did the same to Gascoigne’s arm. They were then put to bed, their contused faces, with the blood, left ‘in statu quo,” while Don Philip sent an orderly, as from the commandant, to Captain Wilson, to acquaint him that two of his officers had been thrown out of a caricola, and were lying dangerously hurt at the barracks.

“Good heavens, it must be Mr Easy and Mr Gascoigne!” said Captain Wilson, when the intelligence was communicated; I saw them galloping down the street like two madmen just now. Coxswain, take the gig on board and then tell the surgeon to come on shore immediately, and bring him up to me at the barracks.”

Captain Wilson then put on his hat, buckled on his sword, and hastened to ascertain the extent of the injury. Don Philip kept out of the way, but the captain was ushered into the room by one of the officers, where he found, in two beds, our two midshipmen stretched out, the surgeon of the forces and the regimental surgeon in consultation between them, while attendants were standing by each bed with restoratives. The medical gentlemen saluted Captain Wilson, and looked very grave, talked about fractures, contusions, injuries, in the most interminable manner-hoped that Mr Easy would recover-but had doubts. The other gentleman might do well with care; that is, so far as his arm was concerned, but there appeared to be a concussion of the brain. Captain Wilson looked at the cut and blood-smeared faces of the two young men, and waited with anxiety the arrival of his own surgeon, who came at last, puffing with the haste he had made, and received the report of the brothers of the faculty.

The leg of Mr Easy fractured in two places-had been set-bone protruding-impossible to move him. Gascoigne, arm, compound fracture-contusion of the brain not certain. Now that all this would have been discovered to be false if the surgeon had been able to examine, is true; but how could he not credit the surgeon of the forces and the regimental surgeon, and how could he put the young men to fresh tortures by removing splints and unsetting limbs? Politeness, if nothing else, prevented his so doing, for it would have been as much as to say that either he did not credit their report, or that he doubted their skill. He looked at our hero and his companion, who kept their eyes closed, and breathed heavily with their mouths open, put on a grave face, as well as his brothers in the art, and reported to Captain Wilson.

“But when can they be moved, Mr Daly?” inquired the latter; “I cannot wait; we must sail tomorrow, or the next day at the farthest.”

The surgeon, as in duty bound, put the question to the others, who replied that there would be great risk in moving before the fever, which might be expected the next day, and which might last ten days; but that Captain Wilson had better not think of removing them, as they should have every care and attention where they were, and could rejoin the ship at Malta. Mr Daly, the surgeon, agreed that this would be the most prudent step, and Captain Wilson then gave his consent.

That being settled, he walked up to the bed of Gascoigne, and spoke to him; but Gascoigne knew that he was to have a concussion of the brain, and he made no reply, nor gave any signs of knowing that Captain Wilson was near him. He then went to our hero, who, at