THE ROUND-HOUSE
One night, about eleven o'clock, a man of Mr. Riach's watch (which was on
deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go a whisper about
the forecastle that "Shuan had done for him at last." There was no need of a
name; we all knew who was meant; but we had scarce time to get the idea rightly
in our heads, far less to speak of it, when the scuttle was again flung open,
and Captain Hoseason came down the ladder. He looked sharply round the bunks in
the tossing light of the lantern; and then, walking straight up to me, he
addressed me, to my surprise, in tones of kindness.
"My man," said he, "we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and Ransome
are to change berths. Run away aft with ye."
Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome in
their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the sea, and
the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy's face. It was as white
as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. The blood in me ran cold,
and I drew in my breath as if I had been struck.
"Run away aft; run away aft with ye!" cried Hoseason.
And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor
moved), and ran up the ladder on deck.
The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting swell. She
was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the arched foot of the
foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. This, at such an hour of
the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too ignorant to draw the true
conclusion -- that we were going north-about round Scotland, and were now on the
high sea between the Orkney and Shetland Islands, having avoided the dangerous
currents of the Pentland Firth. For my part, who had been so long shut in the
dark and knew nothing of head-winds, I thought we might be half-way or more
across the Atlantic. And indeed (beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness
of the sunset light) I gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks,
running between the seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going overboard
by one of the hands on deck, who had been always kind to me.
The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and
serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of the
brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, and two
berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, turn and turn
about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, so as to stow away the
officers' belongings and a part of the ship's stores; there was a second
store-room underneath, which you entered by a hatchway in the middle of the
deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and drink and the whole of the powder
were collected in this place; and all the firearms, except the two pieces of
brass ordnance, were set in a rack in the aftermost wall of the round-house. The
most of the cutlasses were in another place.
A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof, gave
it light by, day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. It was burning
when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. Shuan sitting at the table,
with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin in front of him. He was a tall man,
strongly made and very black; and he stared before him on the table like one
stupid.
He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain followed
and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. I stood in great
fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but something told me I need not be
afraid of him just then; and I whispered in his ear: "How is he?" He shook his
head like one that does not know and does not wish to think, and his face was
very stern.
Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the boy
was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest of us; so that
we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. Shuan, and Mr. Shuan (on
his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon the table.
All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr. Riach
started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise than violence,
crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of this work altogether,
and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. And as he spoke (the weather
sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the bottle into the sea.
Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he meant
murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that night, had not the
captain stepped in between him and his victim.
"Sit down!" roars the captain. "Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye've done?
Ye've murdered the boy!"
Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his hand to
his brow.
"Well," he said, "he brought me a dirty pannikin!"
At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other for a
second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked up to his chief
officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his bunk, and bade him lie
down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad child. The murderer cried a
little, but he took off his sea-boots and obeyed.
"Ah!" cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, "ye should have interfered long
syne. It's too late now."
"Mr. Riach," said the captain, "this night's work must never be kennt in
Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that's what the story is; and I would give
five pounds out of my pocket it was true!" He turned to the table. "What made ye
throw the good bottle away?" he added. "There was nae sense in that, sir. Here,
David, draw me another. They're in the bottom locker;" and he tossed me a key.
"Ye'll need a glass yourself, sir," he added to Riach. "Yon was an ugly thing to
see."
So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the murderer,
who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself upon his elbow
and looked at them and at me.
That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next day
I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals, which the
captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer who was off duty;
all the day through I would be running with a dram to one or other of my three
masters; and at night I slept on a blanket thrown on the deck boards at the
aftermost end of the round-house, and right in the draught of the two doors. It
was a hard and a cold bed; nor was I suffered to sleep without interruption; for
some one would be always coming in from deck to get a dram, and when a fresh
watch was to be set, two and sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl
together. How they kept their health, I know not, any more than how I kept my
own.
And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay; the
meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a week, when
there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being firm on my
sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both Mr. Riach and the
captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy they were making up
lee-way with their consciences, and that they would scarce have been so good
with me if they had not been worse with Ransome.
As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had certainly
troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper wits. He never grew
used to my being there, stared at me continually (sometimes, I could have
thought, with terror), and more than once drew back from my hand when I was
serving him. I was pretty sure from the first that he had no clear mind of what
he had done, and on my second day in the round-house I had the proof of it. We
were alone, and he had been staring at me a long time, when all at once, up he
got, as pale as death, and came close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no
cause to be afraid of him.
"You were not here before?" he asked.
"No, sir," said I."
"There was another boy?" he asked again; and when I had answered him, "Ah!"
says he, "I thought that," and went and sat down, without another word, except
to call for brandy.
You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still sorry for
him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether or no he had a
family, I have now forgotten; I hope not.
Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as you are
to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; even their
pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share of; and had I liked
I might have been drunk from morning to night, like Mr. Shuan. I had company,
too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, who had been to the college, spoke
to me like a friend when he was not sulking, and told me many curious things,
and some that were informing; and even the captain, though he kept me at the
stick's end the most part of the time, would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell
me of the fine countries he had visited.
The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on me and
Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another trouble of my own.
Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I looked down upon, and one of
whom, at least, should have hung upon a gallows; that was for the present; and
as for the future, I could only see myself slaving alongside of negroes in the
tobacco fields. Mr. Riach, perhaps from caution, would never suffer me to say
another word about my story; the captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me
like a dog and would not hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart
sank lower and lower, till I was even glad of the work which kept me from
thinking.
|