CHAPTER III.

"I SEE IT ALL," HE SAID. "I SEE IT ALL."

"Be good, be honest, serve a friend, Are maxims well enough; Who swabs his brows at other's woe That tar's for me your sort; His vessel right ahead shall go To find a joyful port."--DIBDIN.

No yacht ever sailed more closely to the wind than did the _Fairy_. She needed all her powers to-night however to beat to windward, and indeed there must have been times, while the squalls were at their worst, when she was hardly holding her own.

Old Ashley, with his bronzed and wrinkled face, was the very image of an ancient mariner. His wet oilskin and sou'-wester glittered yellow in the moonlight, his wet face glimmered red, his eyes positively shone at times, despite the fact that they were almost hidden by his bunchy eyebrows. Many and many a gale of wind the old man had stared into, his eyes seemed formed indeed to face the tempest and the spray from dashing waves.

As he lay there snugly curled up in his oilskins, the boy, young though he was--but little over ten--could not help admiring the old man's coolness and courage, nor the way he steered.

His sons, and Davies too, sat grimly staring ahead and watching the sea, but ready to spring to sheet or tackle at the first word of command.

They had been out nearly an hour and a half, and in that time had hardly made two miles of southing. Hardly anyone had spoken all this time, certainly there had been no attempt at conversation, but now just as the moon escaped from behind a great grey snowy-edged cloud, Davies half rose, and pointing ahead and to windward shouted:

"I was see her! I was see the boat! Look you quick, Mr. Ashley!"

Luckily the wind had gone down between the squalls, when they drove near the boat, a voice from which came loudly calling for assistance. It was answered by Ashley himself.

The sloop's boat had her mast carried away; she was swamped, and, loaded as she was, would soon have gone down.

Ashley passed her with a cheering word or two, put his yawl prettily round, lowered his mainsail, and driving down under his jibs ashiver, and little after sail, laid the boat aboard in the neatest way imaginable.

With some further skilful management everybody was got on board, with the exception of two left to bale, and the boat was taken in tow.

It was a lieutenant of the Royal Navy who came on board with his men and prisoners--five only had been saved off the brig--about a third of her crew. The officer was in undress uniform, but armed with sword and pistols, and he was proceeding to thank old Ashley, when that ancient mariner gruffly told him to "flop down out o' the way, else how could he steer."

The lieutenant said no more. But presently the yawl drew in near the shore, for she had been positively flying before the wind.

"Stand by," roared Ashley, "to lower away."

So quickly did the _Fairy_ come round, that the proud lieutenant found himself down to leeward with his sword between his feet, and his cap in the sea. Next minute the yawl was in harbour.

"'Scuse me," said Ashley, "if I talked a bit rough. We aren't much used to king's officers here away. What, lost your cap? Here, take mine."

The ancient mariner pulled his own sou'-wester off as he spoke and clapped it unceremoniously on the lieutenant's head, almost extinguishing him. But the officer laughed right merrily, again thanked Ashley, and then gave orders to his men to form a guard round the prisoners, who had already begun to cast sheep's eyes towards the cliffs, as if they'd like to be off.

"Come, sir," said old Ashley, "follow me up the steps, and all your merry men. What's your name, captain?"

"Merryweather, at your service, my good fellow."

They had just entered the lower and outer cave, a large room with a rough deal table and wooden benches, but well lighted with whale-oil lamps. Old Ashley turned to his guest, and laughingly edged the brim of the sou'-wester off his brow, exposing the whole features of a sun-bronzed but pleasant face, slightly disfigured, or, let us say, rendered all the more interesting, by a white scar there over brow and cheek.

"Did you say Merryweather? Well, 'scuse me, but durn me if ye look the least little bit like a merry-weather sailor. Got that cut across your figure-head by fallin' on a foot-stool in church, eh?"

And Ashley laughed at his own joke till the cave rang again.

Meanwhile the sailors and their prisoners crowded in _sans ceremonie_.

"Sit down there, lads," said Ashley; "you'll all have bite and sup before long. Captain Merryweather, this way, sir, please."

Up another staircase, through a short passage and into another cave, far better furnished and more brilliantly lighted than the last. Here, May though the month was, a fire of peats and wood burned on a low hearth, and Ashley pointed to a chair near it and bade his guest sit down.

A table stood near, and presently Mrs. Davies bustled in and laid the supper, the captain rising and bowing to her most gallantly. A huge dish of potatoes boiled in their skins, and a great joint of beef, the steam from which went curling to the cave's roof.

Ashley went to the door, and shouted down to the under cave. "Below there, sons! see that those poor fellows have plenty o' bread and fish and beer. Tom Brundell, what are you doin' down there? Come up here, quick."

Tom entered shyly, and threw down his hat.

"There, captain," cried Ashley, "that's the chap you have to thank for savin' your life."

Tom turned as red as a beet at first, but in five minutes he was perfectly at ease, and thought this officer was by far and away the most pleasant gentleman he had ever met in his life.

But it really was love at first sight with both of them, and Merryweather was soon laughing right heartily at Tom's description of the poplar tree rigged like a ship's mast, and the crow's-nest and cross-trees and all the rest of it.

"And whose idea was it, my boy?"

"Poor Uncle Bob's, sir. At least, he isn't my uncle, sir, but he brought me home with father from Jamaica, where I was born. Father was drowned, you know, sir--at least not quite drowned, because he lived some time after--and Uncle Bob's brother Dan, my daddy, you know, reared me. He and old mother, who isn't mother exactly----"

"Stop, stop, boy! Why I am getting mixed, or you are getting mixed, or---- Oh, I know how it is! Mr. Ashley, that rum of yours, that you say has never paid duty, has gone to my noddle. Now, Tom, my brave lad, will you begin again?"

Ashley laughed right pleasantly now.

"Why," he said, "that little birkie has a story to tell, or there's a story to tell about him. It's too long though; besides, here is Mrs. Davies and my old woman waiting."

"I beg a thousand pardons," said Merryweather, jumping up and drawing a chair towards the table. "What a pleasant home you have, Mrs. Ashley!"

"Handy enough at times," said the old lady.

Mrs. Davies trod on her toes under the table.

"Mother means," said old Ashley, "that it is a good habitation in fine weather; but when the sea takes charge o' the downstairs, and sobs and sighs against the door here, why it ain't quite so cheery. Now heave round with the beef. The 'taties grew over your head on the cliff-top, and, as I said afore, the rum never paid duty. Fine thing to tell a king's officer. Ha! ha!"

"Now Tom, birkie, fill the captain's glass."

But though this story dates back to the old drinking days, Merryweather was a very abstemious officer. He was very much pleased, however, with his strange surroundings, and after supper sat long in the easy chair, smoking and listening to stories of the time when this had really been a smuggler's cave.

"But now," said Merryweather at last, "I must go to my boat and try to snatch a few hours' sleep. The little _Porcupine_ may be back to-morrow, and then----"

"Back to-morrow, eh?" said old Ashley, laughing. "No, sir, not if she means crackin' on after the Dorothy yawl."

"Yes, and my mate'll have her too," said the lieutenant.

"Oh, sir!" said Tom, blushing at his own boldness, "do come home with me. Father and mother have a nice little spare room, and----"

"Why, Tom, you said your father was drowned? But come, my lad, I'll go with you, if it isn't too far."

"Only about a mile, sir, and I'll be up and down to the crow's nest all the morning, and will see the _Porcupine_ ten miles away."

"I'll go, lad."

In another minute the ancient mariner had conducted his guest by a private staircase to the breezy cliff-top. Merryweather shook hands, and off went Tom and he together.

When they reached home, Meg came joyfully barking to meet them, and there was the wagon in the yard, and Tom could hear the mare stumping her lame foot in the stable; so he knew that daddy had come.

There was a light in Uncle Bob's window, and it occurred to the boy that he might as well take Lieutenant Merryweather in here first. So he began to sing, which was the invariable signal to Uncle Bob that announced his arrival.

Tom opened the door a little way and peeped in. "May I come in, Uncle Bob, and bring--a friend?"

"Come in, you young rascal. Wager two-pence you've got one o' the crew o' the d----l in disguise with you."

So in walked Tom.

And in marched the officer.

But certainly the boy was not prepared for what followed. Uncle Bob had turned his eyes towards the door, but they positively seemed to grow as large and round as saucers when they alighted on the sun-browned features of Lieutenant Merryweather. Nor did the latter appear one whit less surprised than Uncle Bob. But he recovered himself sooner.

"What!" he cried, "can it be possible? My old shipmate, Bob Brundell, that sailed with me for years in the old _Turtle_, and was in my own watch? Wonders will never cease. Why I heard you were drowned ever so long ago. Wonders never do cease; but tip us your nipper, for auld lang syne."

Then Uncle Bob's face fell, and tears sprung to his eyes, aye, and trickled over his face.

"Ah! sir," he said mournfully, "poor Bob is on his beam ends, and couldn't move a toe if the ship was on fire."

"Oh, this is inexpressibly sad," said Merryweather. patting his old shipmate's cheek. "But there is hope, isn't there? Ah! here comes your elder brother. I knew him at once from you, Bob. How d' ye do, sir? Glad to make the acquaintance of my old friend's brother. How glad I am to see you both!"

"Tom," cried Uncle Bob, "bring my pipe and light it for me. Sit you down, mate. Well, you were mate you know in the dear old days, though now you're lieutenant. Sit down, brother Dan. Thank you, Tom. I do believe the young rascal'll soon learn to smoke just with lighting my pipe. What's the time, youngster?"

"Just gone one bell in the middle watch," said Tom seriously, after consulting an old silver turnip that he pulled with an air of manliness out of his fob.

"Going to be a sailor, my boy?" said the lieutenant, putting his hand on Tom's head.

Uncle Bob answered for him.

"Why, old shipmate," he said, "he's almost a sailor already. And he was born in the service."

"Oh, by the way," cried Merryweather, "I must hear the lad's story. It's mixed up with yours I know, Bob. One bell in the middle watch is no time at all, so heave round with your yarn."

"I'll heave round," said Bob; "but brother Dan's mixed up in it too, so he'll have to put a hand to the wheel as well. Light your pipe, Dan. Ah! if you only knew what a dear old brother Dan is to me, Mr. Merryweather----."

"Hush, hush," cried Dan.

But Merryweather stretched out his white, soft hand, and squeezed the rough, red fist that Dan put in it. "I can see it all," he said. "I can see it all. Now, Bob, it is you to begin the story."