The Lively Poll: A Tale of the North Sea by R. M. Ballantyne (best book clubs .TXT) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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âYes,â shouted a strong voice from a dark corner of the hold. âThank God!â murmured another voice from a different quarter, for there were men in that vesselâs hold who were longing for the salvation of other as well as their own souls.
No notice was taken of the interrupters. The preacher only paused for an instant as if to emphasise the wordsâ âJesus Christ is able to save to the uttermost all who come to God through Him.â
We will not dwell on this subject further than to say that the prayer which followed the sermon was fervent and short, for that student evidently did not think that he should be âheard for his much speaking!â The prayer which was thereafter offered by the Admiral of the fleet was still shorter, very much to the point, and replete with nautical phrases, but an uncalled-for petition which followed that was briefest of all. It came in low but distinct tones from a dark corner of the hold, and had a powerful effect on the audience; perhaps, also, on the Hearer of prayer. It was merelyâ âGod have mercy on me.â
Whatever influence might have resulted from the preaching and the prayer on that occasion, there could be no doubt whatever as to the singing. It was tremendous! The well-known powers of Wesleyan throats would have been lost in it. Saint Paulâs Cathedral organ could not have drowned it. Many of the men had learned at least the tunes of the more popular of Sankeyâs hymns, first from the Admiral and a few like-minded men, then from each other. Now every man was furnished with an orange-coloured booklet. Some could read; some could not. It mattered little. Their hearts had been stirred by that young student, or rather by the studentâs God. Their voices, trained to battle with the tempest, formed a safety-valve to their feelings. âThe Lifeboatâ was, appropriately, the first hymn chosen. Manx Bradley led with a voice like a trumpet, for joy intensified his powers. Fred Martin broke forth with tremendous energy. It was catching. Even Groggy Fox was overcome. With eyes shut, mouth wide open, and book upside down, he absolutely howled his determination to âleave the poor old stranded wreck, and pull for the shore.â
But skipper Fox was not the only man whose spirit was touched on that occasion. Many of the boats clung to the mission vessel till the day was nearly past, for their crews were loath to part. New joys, new hopes, new sensations had been aroused. Before leaving, Dick Martin took John Binning aside, and in a low but firm voice saidââyouâre right, sir. A grievous sin does lie heavy on me. I robbed Mrs Mooney, a poor widdy, of her little bag oâ savinâsâtwenty pounds it was.â
The latter part of this confession was accidentally overheard by Bob Lumsden. He longed to hear more, but Bob had been taught somehow that eavesdropping is a mean and dishonourable thing. With manly determination, therefore, he left the spot, but immediately sought and found his little friend Pat Stiver, intent on relieving his feelings.
âWhat dâee think, Pat?â he exclaimed, in a low whisper, but with indignation in his eye and tone.
âI ainât thinkinâ at all,â said Pat.
âWould you believe it, Pat?â continued Bob, âIâve just heerd that scounârel Dick Martin say that it was him as stole the money from Mrs Mooneyâfrom the mother of our Eve!â
âYou donât say so!â exclaimed Pat, making his eyes remarkably wide and round.
âYes, I does, anâ Iâve long suspected him. Whether he was boastinâ or not I canât tell, anâ it do seem strange that he should boast of it to the young parsonâleastwise, unless it was done to spite him. But now mark me, Pat Stiver, Iâll bring that old sinner to his marrow-bones before long, and make him disgorge too, if he hainât spent it all. I give you leave to make an Irish stew oâ my carcase if I donât. Ay, ay, sir!â
The concluding words of Bob Lumsdenâs speech were in reply to an order from Skipper Lockley to haul the boat alongside. In a few minutes more the mission ship was forsaken by her strange Sabbath congregation, and left with all the fleet around her floating quietly on the tranquil sea.
There wasâprobably still isâa coffee-tavern in Gorleston where, in a cleanly, cheerful room, a retired fisherman and his wife, of temperance principles, supplied people with those hot liquids which are said to cheer without inebriating.
Here, by appointment, two friends met to discuss matters of grave importance. One was Bob Lumsden, the other his friend and admirer Pat Stiver. Having asked for and obtained two large cups of coffee and two slices of buttered bread for some ridiculously small sum of money, they retired to the most distant corner of the room, and, turning their backs on the counter, began their discussion in low tones.
Being early in the day, the room had no occupants but themselves and the fishermanâs wife, who busied herself in cleaning and arranging plates, cups, and saucers, etcetera, for expected visitors.
âPat,â said Bob, sipping his coffee with an appreciative air, âIâve turned a total abstainer.â
âWâich means?â inquired Pat.
âThat I donât drink nothinâ at all,â replied Bob.
âBut youâre a-drinkinâ now!â said Pat.
âYou know what I mean, you small willain; I drink nothinâ with spirits in it.â
âWell, I donât see what you gains by that, Bob, for I heerd Fred Martin say you was natârally âfull oâ spirit,â so abstaininâ âll make no difference.â
âPat,â said Bob sternly, âif you donât clap a stopper on your tongue, Iâll wollop you.â
Pat became grave at once. âWell, dâee know, Bob,â he said, with an earnest look, âI do bâlieve you are right. Youâve always seemed to me as if you had a sort oâ dissipated look, anâ would go to the bad right off if you gave way to drink. Yes, youâre right, anâ to prove my regard for you Iâll become a total abstainer tooâbut, nevertheless, I canât leave off drinkinâ.â
âCanât leave off drinkinâ!â echoed Bob.
Pat shook his head. âNoâcanât. âTaint possible.â
âWhy, wot do you mean?â
âWell, Bob, I mean that as Iâve never yet begun to drink, it ainât possible for me to leave it off, dâee see, though I was to try ever so hard. Howsever, Iâll become an abstainer all the same, just to keep company along wiâ you.â
Bob Lumsden gave a short laugh, and then, resuming his earnest air, saidâ
âPat, Iâve found out that Dick Martin, the scounârel, has bin to Mrs Mooneyâs hut again, anâ now Iâm sartin sure it was him as stole the âoomanâs moneyânot because I heerd him say so to Mr Binning, but because Eve told me she saw him flatteninâ his ugly nose against her window-pane last night, anâ recognised him at once for the thief. Moreover, he opened the door anâ looked into the room, but seeinâ that he had given Eve a terrible fright, he drew back smartly anâ went away.â
âThe willain!â exclaimed Pat Stiver, snapping his teeth as if he wanted to bite, and doubling up his little fists. It was evident that Bobâs news had taken away all his tendency to jest.
âNow itâs plain to me,â continued Bob, âthat the willain means more mischief. Pârâaps he thinks the old âoomanâs got more blunt hid away in her chest, or in the cupboard. Anyhow, heâs likely to frighten poor Eve out of her wits, so itâs my business to stop his little game. The question is, how is it to be done. Dâee think it would be of any use to commoonicate wiâ the police?â
The shaking of Pat Stiverâs head was a most emphatic answer.
âNo,â said he, âwotiver you do, have nothinâ to do wiâ the pâleece. Theyâre a low-minded, pig-headed set, wiâ their âmove onâs,â anâ their ânow then, little unâs;â anâ their grabbinâs of your collars, without no regard to wâether theyâre clean or not, anâ theirââ
âLet alone the police, Pat,â interrupted his friend, âbut letâs have your adwice about what should be done.â
After a momentâs consideration, the small boy advised that Mrs Mooneyâs hut should be watched.
âIn course,â he said, âDick Martin ainât such a fool as to go anâ steal doorinâ the daytime, so we donât need to begin till near dark. You are big anâ strong enough now, Bob, to go at a man like Dick anâ floor him wi a thumpinâ stick.â
âScarcely,â returned Bob, with a gratified yet dubious shake of his head. âIâm game to try, but it wonât do to risk gettinâ the worst of it in a thing oâ this sort.â
âWell, but if Iâm there with another thumpinâ stick to back you up,â said Pat, âyouâll have no difficulty wotsumdever. Anâ then, if we should need help, ainât the âBlue Boarâ handy, anâ thereâs always a lot oâ hands there ready for a spree at short notice? Now, my adwice is that we go right off anâ buy two thumpinâ sticksâyaller ones, wiâ big heads like Jack the Giant Killerâget âem for sixpence apiece. A heavy expense, no doubt, but worth goinâ in for, for the sake of Eve Mooney. And when, in the words oâ the old song, the shades of eveninâ is closinâ oâer us, weâll surround the house of Eve, and âwait till the brute rolls by!ââ
âYouâre far too poetical, Pat, for a practical man, said his friend. Howsomediver, I think, on the whole, your adwice is not bad, so well try it on. But wot are we to do till the shades of eveninâ comes on?â
âAmoose ourselves,â answered Pat promptly.
âHâm! might do worse,â returned his friend. âI sâpose you know Iâve got to be at Widow Martinâs to take tea wiâ Fred anâ his bride on their return from their weddinâ trip. I wonder if I might take you with me, Pat. Youâre small, anâ I suppose you donât eat much.â
âOh, donât I, though?â exclaimed Pat.
âWell, no matter. It would be very jolly. Weâd have a good blow-out, you know; sit there comfortably together till it began to git dark, and then start off toâtoââ
âGo in anâ win,â suggested the little one.
Having thus discussed their plans and finished their coffee, the two chivalrous lads went off to Yarmouth and purchased two of the most formidable cudgels they could find, of the true Jack-the-Giant-Killer type, with which they retired to the Denes to âamooseâ themselves.
Evening found them hungry and hearty at the tea-table of Mrs Martinâand really, for the table of a fishermanâs widow, it was spread with a very sumptuous repast; for it was a great day in the history of the Martin family. No fewer than three Mrs Martins were seated round it. There was old Granny Martin, who consented to quit her attic window on that occasion and take the head of the table, though she
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