Shifting Winds: A Tough Yarn by R. M. Ballantyne (best free ebook reader txt) đ
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
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âExplain what I mean, coolinary sunbeam!â said Dan; âisnât it explaininâ that I am as plain as the nose on yer face, (anâ a purty wan it is), though I havenât got the powers of a lawyer, nor yit a praist? Didnât a drippinâ wet sailor come to our door at the dead oâ night anâ ring the bell as bowld as brass, anâ when Mrs Niven, whose intellect was niver much beyond that of a poplypusââ
âWhatâs a poplypus?â interrupted cook.
âWell now,â remonstrated Dan, âI ainât âxactly a walkinâ dictionary; but I bâlieve itâs a baist oâ the say what hainât got nothinâ but a body anâ a stummik, indeed Iâm not sure but that itâs all stummik together, with just legs enough to move about with, or may be a fin or two, anâ a hole to let in the wittles; quite in your line, by the way, Miss Bounder.â
âImperance!â ejaculated cook.
âNo offence,â said Dan; âbut âto resoom the thread oâ the narrative,â as the story books say, Mrs Niven she opened the door, and the drippinâ wet sailor he puts a little wet spalpeen in her arms, anâ goes right off without so much as by your lave, anâ thatâs all we know about it. Anâ Grumpy he goes raginâ about the house sayinâ heâll have nothinâ to do wiâ the poor little thingâwhoâs not so little naither, beinâ a ten-year-old if sheâs an hour, anâ a purty sweet face to bootâanâ that heâll send her to the workusâ or prisân, or anywhere; but in his house sheâs not to stop another day. Well, not havinâ the management oâ the whole of this worldâs affairs, (fortânately, else a scrubbily managed world it would be), Grumpy finds out that when he wants to send little Emmie, (as she calls herself), off, sheâs knocked down by a raginâ fever, anâ the doctor he says itâs as much as her life is worth to move her. So Grumpy has to grin and bear it, and thereâs little Emmie lyinâ at this minit in our best bed, (where Mrs Niven put her the moment she was took bad), a-tossinâ her purty arms in the air, anâ makinâ her yellow hair fly over the pillows, and kickinâ off the close like a young angel in a passion, and callinâ on her mama in a voice that would make a stone immage weep, all the while that Miss Penelope is snivellinâ on one side oâ the bed, anâ Mrs Niven is snortinâ on the other.â
âPoor dear,â said Susan in a low voice, devoting herself with intensified zeal to the tea-pot, while sympathetic tears moistened her eyes.
I interrupted the conversation at this point by entering the kitchen with my note to my friend Stuart. I had to pass through the kitchen to my back garden when I wished to leave my house by the back garden gate. I had coughed and made as much noise as possible in approaching the cookâs domains, but they had been so much engrossed with each other that they did not hear me. Dan sprang hastily off the table, and suddenly assumed a deeply respectful air.
âDan,â said I, âtake this note to Mr Stuart as quickly as possible, and bring me an answer without delay. I am going to see Haco Barepoles atââ
âOh, sir!â exclaimed Susan with a start, and looking at me interrogatively.
âOh, I forgot, Susan; your father has just arrived from Aberdeen, and is at this moment in the Sailorsâ Home. You may run down to see him, my girl, if you choose.â
âThank you, sir,â said Susan, with a glow of pleasure on her good-looking face, as she pushed the tea-pot from her, and dropt the cloth, in her haste to get away to see her sire.
âStay, Susan,â said I; âyou need not hurry back. In fact, you may spend the day with your father, if you choose; and tell him that I will be down to see him in a few minutes. But I shall probably be there before you. You may take Mr Stuartâs answer to the Home,â I added, turning to Dan; âI shall be there when you return with it.â
âYes, sir,â said Dan in a tone so energetic as to cause me to look at him. I observed that he was winking towards the kitchen door. Casting my eyes thither I saw that Susanâs face was much flushed as he disappeared into the passage. I also noted that the cookâs face was fiery red, and that she stirred a large pot, over which she bent, with unnecessary violenceâviciously, as it were.
Pondering on these things I crossed my garden and proceeded towards the Home, which stood on a conspicuous eminence near the docks, at the east end of the town.
The Sailorsâ Home in Wreckumoft was a neat, substantial, unpretending edifice, which had been built by a number of charitable people, in order to provide a comfortable residence, with board at moderate terms, for the numerous seamen who frequented our port. It also served as a place of temporary refuge to the unfortunate crews of the numerous wrecks which occurred annually on our shores.
Here I found Haco Barepoles, the skipper of a coal sloop, seated on the side of his bed in one of the little berths of the Home, busily engaged in stuffing tobacco into the bowl of a great German pipe with the point of his little finger. Susan, who had outstripped me, was seated beside him with her head on his shoulder.
âOh, father!â I heard Susan say, as I walked along the passage between the rows of sleeping berths that lined each side of the principal dormitory of our Home; âI shall lose you some day, I fear. How was it that you came so near beinâ wrecked?â
Before the skipper could reply I stood in the doorway of his berth.
âGood-day, Haco,â said I; âglad to see you safe back once more.â
âThankee, Capân Bingleyâsame to you, sir,â said Haco, rising hastily from the bed and seizing my hand, which he shook warmly, and, I must add, painfully; for the skipper was a hearty, impulsive fellow, apt to forget his strength of body in the strength of his feelings, and given to grasp his male friends with a gripe that would, I verily believe, have drawn a roar from Hercules.
âIâve come back to the old bunk, you see,â he continued, while I sat down on a chest which served for a chair. âI likes the Home better anâ better every time I comes to it, and Iâve brought all my crew with me; for you see, sir, the âCoffinâsâ aâmost fallinâ to pieces, and will have to go into dock for a riglar overhaul.â
âThe Coffin?â said Susan, interrogatively.
âYes, lass; itâs only a nickname the old tub got in the north, where they call the colliers coal-coffins, âcause itâs ten to one youâll go to the bottom in âem every time ye go to sea.â
âAre they all so bad as to deserve the name?â inquired Susan.
âNo, not âxactly all of âem; but thereâs a good lot as are not half so fit for sea as a washinâ tub. You see, they ainât worth repairinâ, and owners sometimes just take their chance oâ makinâ a safe run by keepinâ the pumps goinâ the whole time.â
I informed Haco that I had called for the purpose of telling him that I had applied to Mr Stuart, who owned his little coal sloop, to give a few wrecked Russians a passage to London, in order that they might be handed over to the care of their consul; but that I would have to find a passage for them in some other vessel, as the âCoffinâ was so unseaworthy.
âDonât be in too great a hurry, sir,â said Haco, with a peculiar smile and twinkle in his eye; âIâm inclined to think that Mr Stuart will send her back to London to be repaired thereââ
âWhat!â exclaimed Susan, with a flush of indignation, âanâ risk your life, father?â
âAs to that, lass, my life has got to be risked anyhow, and it ainât much worth, to say the truth; so you neednât trouble yourself on that pint.â
âItâs worth a great deal to me,â said Susan, drawing herself closer to the side of her rugged parent.
I could not help smiling as I looked at this curious specimen of a British seaman shaking his head gravely and speaking so disparagingly of himself, when I knew, and every one in the town knew, that he was one of the kindest and most useful of men. He was a very giant in size, with a breadth of shoulder that would have made him quite ridiculous had it not been counterbalanced by an altitude of six feet four. He had a huge head of red hair, and a huge heart full of tenderness. His only fault was utter recklessness in regard to his own life and limbsâa fault which not unfrequently caused him to place the lives and limbs of others in jeopardy, though he never could be brought to perceive that fact.
âWhatever your life may be worth, my friend,â said I, âit is to be hoped that Mr Stuart will not risk it by sending you to sea in the âCoffinâ till it is thoroughly overhauled.â
âCome in!â shouted the skipper, in answer to a rap at the door.
The invitation to enter was not accepted, but the rap was repeated.
âGo, Susan,â said I, âsee who it is.â
Susan obeyedâwith unusual alacrity, as I fancied, but did not return with equal quickness. We heard her whispering with some one; then there was a sound as if of a suppressed scream, followed by something that was marvellously like a slap applied to a cheek with an open hand. Next moment Susan re-appeared with a letter and a very flushed face.
âA letter, sir,â said Susan, dropping her eyes.
âWho brought it?â I inquired.
âMr Horsey, sir.â Susan stammered the name, and looked confused. âHe waits an answer, sir.â
Haco Barepoles had been eyeing his daughter gravely the while. He now sprang up with the wild energy that was his peculiar characteristic, and flinging the door wide-open with a crash that shook the whole framework of the berth, stood face to face with Dan Horsey.
Intense gravity marked the features of the groom, who stood, hat in hand, tapping the side of his top-boot with a silver-mounted riding-whip. He met Hacoâs steady frown with a calm and equally steady gaze of his clear grey eyes; and then, relaxing into a smile, nodded familiarly, and inquired if the weather was fine up there, bekaise, judginâ from his, (Hacoâs), face he would be inclined to think it must be raither cowld!
Haco smiled grimly: âYe was to wait an answer, was ye?â
âIf I may venture to make so bowld as to say so in the presence of your highness, I was.â
âThen wait,â said Haco, smiling a little less grimly.
âThank ye, sir, for yer kind permission,â said Dan in a tone and with an air of assumed meekness.
The skipper returned to the bed, which creaked as if taxed to its utmost, when he sat down on it, and drew Susan close to his side.
âThis is from Mr Stuart, Haco,â said I, running my eye hastily over the note; âhe consents to my sending the men in your vessel, but after what you have told meââ
âDonât mind wot I told ye, Captain Bingley. Iâll see Mr Stuart to-day, anâll call on you in the afternoon. The âCoffinâ ainât quite so bad as she looks. Have âee any answer to send back?â
âNo,â said I, turning to Dan, who still stood at the door tapping his right boot with a jaunty air; âtell your master, with my compliments, that I will see him about this matter in the evening.â
âAnd harkâee, lad,â cried Haco, again springing up and confronting the groom, âdâye see this young âooman?â (pointing to Susan.)
âSure I do,â replied Dan, with a smile and
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