CHAPTER XVII.

STRIKING WHILE THE IRON IS HOT.

Burgundy is bad stuff for anybody, and especially bad for boys. Clinch found it necessary to keep at a respectful distance from the seamen of his quarter-watch, for he was conscious of being quite unsteady on his feet; of being shaky to a degree that could not be accounted for by the motion of the steamer. But he knew what he was about all the time; and, when he attended to the heaving of the log, he kept up a constant shouting to the hands at the line, to stimulate their interest in their work, and thus prevent them from observing him. But the very thickness of his tones as he spoke was enough to betray him, if there had been any one present who was accustomed to this phase of intoxication.

Alexander had found it more difficult to keep awake after he had loaded himself with Burgundy than it was before. If he kept his seat, he was sure to fall asleep; and several times he “lost himself.” He knew that the captain had a habit of prowling about the deck at all hours of the night, as well as of the day; and for this reason he felt obliged to keep on his feet during the remainder of his watch, for it would have ruined him to have the commander find him asleep at his post. He did not consider the Burgundy experiment a success.

Gregory slept like a log in his state-room till eight o’clock, when all hands were called. He got out of his berth with an aching head, and was as cross as a spoiled child. He went to breakfast; but the strong wine had destroyed his appetite so that he could not taste food, and he only drank a cup of coffee. When the meal was finished, Capt. Fairfield, who had prepared the forward part of the cabin for a schoolroom, summoned the starboard watch to attend to their recitations. The lessons had been assigned the day before; and the port-watch, composed of the officers and seamen from the Tritonia, had faithfully studied them. Richards had done so while on duty in the engine-room, for he had not work enough to keep him employed half of the time. He was so accustomed to watching the gauge and the motion of the machinery, that he could do it mechanically, as one writes with a pen without thinking that he is writing. The chief engineer had also studied his lessons when he ought to have been asleep.

Gregory heard the summons to the recitation. He had not studied his lessons, and the call was an unpleasant one to him. The after-effect of the heavy drams of Burgundy he had taken was not only to make him cross, like a wilful child, but as ugly as a hungry wild beast. He looked at the Josephines of the starboard watch, as they passed into the cabin; and they appeared to him like lambs going to the slaughter. Not that they all, or even many of them, objected to the recitations; but he judged them by himself, and interpreted their feelings by his own. He was utterly opposed to the quarter-watch arrangement, which seemed to be connected with the study scheme, inasmuch as it afforded every student his needed recreation without interfering with his lessons in ordinary weather. He wanted the four hours’ leisure when his watch was off duty.

Before the students had all seated themselves at the tables arranged for study purposes, Clinch came to the main door of the cabin, at which Gregory was standing. They had been cronies since they came into the Josephine, and each understood the other perfectly. Like many others, they had both been sent to the academy squadron after being expelled from other literary institutions. They would have passed for bad boys before; but the novel discipline of the nautical school had at least produced a temporary reform. They had not been made over in their minds and hearts, as many had; but they had been transformed into obedient sailors and diligent scholars. This was not enough; but it was better than nothing. Gregory was fourth lieutenant, and Clinch third master, of the Josephine; and no doubt they had fairly won these positions by their attention and zeal.

“Bob Clinch,” called Gregory, as the third officer was passing into the cabin.

“What do you want, Dave?” demanded Clinch.

“I want to see you.”

“What for?”

“Come out here, and I will tell you.”

Gregory led the way to the port side of the deck, and hauled his friend into a corner where he could speak to him without interruption. But suddenly he seemed to change his mind, and conducted him to the mess-room, which was not occupied at this time. Taking from its hiding-place in the bottom of a locker one of the bottles of Burgundy, he filled a couple of glasses from it; and the cronies tossed them off quite as a matter of course, as though it were a part of the regular routine of the vessel. Neither of them spoke a word, for each understood the other without any speeches.

“I object to the present order of things on board,” said Gregory, when he had restored the bottle to its hiding-place, and rinsed the glasses so that no telltale odor should betray him. “I am not going in to the recitations.”

“Then there will be a row,” added Clinch lightly, as though it were of no particular consequence if there should be a tempest on board.

“I don’t care if there is: in fact, I should rather like a little excitement,” added Gregory. “I don’t feel at home on board of this craft. I have been snubbed half a dozen times by O’Hara since I came into the steamer.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“I am not going into the cabin to the recitations, in the first place.”

“But you will have to fight that out with Capt. Fairfield, and not with O’Hara,” suggested Clinch. “He is the schoolmaster of the ship.”

“I don’t care whom I fight it out with. I feel that I have been a good boy about as long as it will pay. It looks to me just as though we had come to the end of our service in the Josephine.”

“But we shall return to her.”

“I have my doubts about that. When we get to England, if we go there, this vessel will be seized, attached, taken possession of, or something or other of that sort, and we shall all be afloat at loose ends; and how shall we get back to the squadron among the Isles of the Sea? The Prince is not going to wait for us, and we have lost the Madeiras, which I wanted to see more than all the rest of the islands.”

“I heard our vice-principal say that passengers are entitled to salvage if they save a vessel after she has been abandoned, or if they help take her into port after she has been partially disabled; and I suppose Mr. Frisbone will attend to the business, so far as the steamer is concerned.”

“No matter for that: if we get to England, we shall have no vessel to chase the squadron in; and I don’t believe we shall ever find it. I think the cruise of the fleet is ended, as I said.”

“What is the use of beating about the bush all day, Dave? if you have any thing to say, why don’t you say it. What do you mean to do?” demanded Clinch, a little impatiently.

“Are you going in to the recitations, Bob?” asked Gregory, as though this would settle the whole matter.

“No, not if you don’t: I shall follow your lead.”

“That’s all I want to know,” replied Gregory, opening the door of the mess-room, and passing out on the main deck.

“But that isn’t all I want to know,” added Clinch, following him. “If there is going to be a row, I want to know my way into it, and my way out of it.”

“I don’t know that there will be any row,” answered Gregory.

“If you refuse to attend recitations there will be, without any doubt.”

“Capt. Fairfield wishes to see Mr. Gregory and Mr. Clinch in the cabin,” said one of the quartermasters of the starboard watch, touching his cap to the conspirators at this moment.

“Tell Mr. Fairfield, that, with entire respect for him, we have decided not to attend recitations to-day,” replied Gregory promptly.

Stokes was the quartermaster who had delivered the message; and he started back with astonishment at the reply of the first officer.

“Shall I say that to him?” he asked, thinking that perhaps Gregory was joking.

“Say that to him,” added Gregory decidedly.

By this time the fumes of the wine were well up into his head, and he had a courage not his own; and Clinch was affected in the same way.

“Very well, Mr. Gregory,” replied Stokes; but he did not seem inclined to deliver the message.

“Why don’t you go back to the cabin with the answer I gave you?” demanded the first officer; but his manner was strange to the quartermaster,--rather silly and simpering.

“If the officers of the ship do not attend recitations, I don’t know why the seamen should,” added Stokes, encouraged to make the remark by the light tone of his superior.

“They can do as they please,” answered Gregory, with a snuff and a chuckle. “But go and deliver the message to the instructor.”

“I should like to ask if the rest of the starboard watch may decide not to attend recitations,” continued Stokes, who was very anxious to learn something more in regard to the position of the officers before him.

“Come into the mess-room, Stokes,” said Gregory, leading the way. “The rest of the watch can do just as they please.”

The young tippler--he was nineteen--took the bottle from the locker, and, knowing the quartermaster very well, he gave him a glass of the wine. Possibly he thought the dose would stimulate his ideas, and enable him to reach the conclusion to which his superiors had arrived. Stokes was willing enough to imbibe, and he drank off the contents of the glass.

“I should like to know what’s up,” said the messenger from the cabin.

“In a word, then, we don’t like the way things are managed on board. The captain has disregarded his instructions; and that absolves us all from obeying his orders,” replied Gregory, as he drank another dram.

“Is that the idea?” asked Stokes.

“That’s just it. The captain has divided us into quarter-watches, and it is by his royal mandate that we are to study our lessons and recite them.”

“The captain’s? If that is so, how does Capt. Fairfield happen to be on board?” inquired Stokes, who could not help seeing the flaw in the first officers argument.

“I suppose he was sent on board to look after us a little.”

“But all hands were required to take their books and exercise-papers with them.”

“That was so that any might study who were inclined. I am not inclined.”

“No more am I,” added Stokes, laughing, as the Burgundy began to operate in his upper story.

“As a matter of duty, I don’t know as we ought to let this thing go any farther; for, as the case stands now, O’Hara is actually running away with the vessel,” continued Gregory, whose speech was beginning to be a little thick. “When a lot of fellows ran away with the Tritonia, and were going on an independent cruise in her, the ones that took possession of her and brought her back were treated like lords by the faculty, and praised up to the skies for what they had done.”

“Come in, Lawring!” called Clinch, as he saw the other quartermaster of the starboard watch at the door of the mess-room.

“Capt. Fairfield sent me to see what had become of Stokes,” said Lawring, as he came into the mess-room.

“Well, you see, don’t you?” leered Gregory, whose head was buzzing as though it contained a circular saw in motion. “Here, Lawring, you are a good fellow.”

The first officer took the second bottle of Burgundy from the locker (for the first was empty by this time), and filled the glass on the table. Clinch looked out of the window on the deck to warn his companion of the approach of any one who might interfere with their pastime. But no one disturbed them.

“Drink this, Lawring,” said Gregory, when he had filled the glass.

“What is it?” inquired the quartermaster, as he looked from one to another in the apartment, wondering what could be going on.

“It’s the best wine on board of the Ville d’Angers, and as good as you can find anywhere,” replied Gregory in maudlin tones. “Take it, Lawring: it will do you good.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gregory: I never drink wine,” answered the quartermaster, as he looked over the three former occupants of the mess-room; and he was fully satisfied that all of them had been partaking of the wine.

If the first officer of the steamer was not tipsy, he had never seen a person in that condition.

“If you never drank any wine, it is time for you to begin,” chuckled Gregory.

“Thank you, Mr. Gregory: I don’t wish for any,” returned Lawring decidedly.

“I tell you to drink it; and I am the first officer of this craft.”

“Excuse me: I signed the pledge before I left home; and I intend never to drink any thing as long as I live.”

“But I am your superior officer!” persisted Gregory, in broken speech. “You must obey me!”

The tippler began to be angry, and stormed at the quartermaster in his incoherent speech.

“I will not drink wine in obedience to any body’s orders,” replied Lawring firmly.

“You won’t! then I’ll make you drink it!”

“Dry up, Dave!” interposed Clinch.

“What reply shall I take to Capt. Fairfield, Stokes?” asked Lawring, as he opened the door behind him.

“Tell Capt. Fairfield, that, with entire respect for him, we have decided not to attend any recitations,” answered Stokes, sending the reply which Gregory had given him.

“Don’t let him go till I bust in his head!” exclaimed the first officer, staggering towards the door to intercept the departing quartermaster.

“No, no; don’t get up a fight here,” said Clinch, taking his crony by the collar, and detaining him.

Lawring did not wait for any thing more; but hastened back to the cabin, where the rest of the watch were engaged in their recitations.

“Stokes says, that, with entire respect for you, Capt. Fairfield, he has decided not to attend any recitations,” said Lawring, reporting to the instructor.

“Indeed! and did you see Gregory and Clinch?” inquired the astonished teacher.

“They were all in the mess-room forward, sir.”

“What does this mean? did they assign any reason for their conduct?”

“No, sir; but I think that all three of them have been drinking wine; and Mr. Gregory is intoxicated,” added the quartermaster.

“Intoxicated!” exclaimed Capt. Fairfield. “I think you must be mistaken, Lawring.”

“No, sir, I am not. They had a bottle of red wine, and Mr. Gregory asked me to drink a glass of it.”

Capt. Fairfield was bewildered at this intelligence. Three of the students who ought to be at their studies were drinking wine in the mess-room. Certainly this was all wrong. The students were not allowed to drink wine, to say nothing of refusing to attend to the lessons. But the instructor was a prudent man; and he paused to consider his own powers in the premises. He had been sent on board to instruct the ship’s company; and he concluded that his authority was the same as that of any other professor in the absence of the principal or a vice-principal. He had the entire control of the students during study hours, unless they were ordered to do ship’s duty by the captain. He could not interfere with the navigation of the vessel; but he could compel the attendance of the pupils at the proper hours in the cabin.

Leaving the cabin, he went on the poop-deck, where O’Hara was, and stated the case to him. The young captain was very much disconcerted by the intelligence that some of the students were insubordinate, but especially so that the first and third officers were in a state of intoxication and rebellion. It was clear enough that the tipplers had found a way to get into the wine-room in the hold. Mr. Frisbone had taken the key to this room; and it was a mystery how the students had got into it.

O’Hara told Capt. Fairfield that he had full powers to compel the attendance of the members of the starboard watch in the cabin, and advised him to call upon the boatswain and carpenter if he needed any assistance. While the instructor went to attend to this duty, O’Hara called for the stewards, and visited the hold with them. They knew nothing about the wine or the wine-room. The door was locked, and all appeared to be right about it. But, while they were investigating the matter, the captain saw Alfonzo come out of the fire-room, and creep under the engine to the door leading into the after-hold. He went below again, and the fireman unlocked the door of the wine-room. When he had gone in, the captain crept up to the door, and took out the key. Calling the two stewards, they drove Alfonzo out, and locked the door.

“Keep this key,” said O’Hara to the man who acted as chief steward, “and search the ship all over. If you find any wine or liquors, lock them up.”

It so happened that the firemen had exhausted the supply they had in the fire-room, and had sent Alfonzo for another stock. He had found the key in the fire-room. The stewards found that which Gregory had concealed in the locker, and it was secured. No wine was to be had except in the wine-room. As a further precaution, the captain ordered the carpenter to transfer two heavy bars of iron from another door to this one. As each bar was secured by a large lock, it was not likely the room would be broken into.

Capt. Fairfield went to the mess-room after he left the captain. The students there were respectful to him at first; but, when he spoke of enforcing his authority, Gregory was impudent; and the others, whose heads were full of wine, followed his example.

But the instructor was a rigid disciplinarian; and, calling in Shakings, they dragged the first and third officers and the quartermaster into the cabin. But they were all too much intoxicated to study or recite; and Capt. Fairfield locked them into a couple of spare state-rooms.

By noon they had all slept off the effects of the wine. O’Hara had been thinking all the morning about the case of discipline on hand, and confidently expected trouble as soon as the time came to change the watch. He had made up his mind what to do; but his action must be governed by the circumstances. Only three of the students from the Josephine had thus far been insubordinate; but all the rest might join them. But he apprehended no difficulty, for the officers and seamen from the Tritonia were enough to handle the steamer.

Gregory had been let out of the state-room, completely sobered, at half-past eleven, so that he could dine with his watch in season to take the deck at noon. He was even more cross and ugly than he had been in the morning.

“All the starboard watch on deck!” shouted the acting boatswain, piping the call.

Gregory did not move from the seat he had taken at the cabin-door. O’Hara trembled as he saw that the first officer was intent upon making trouble.

“The deck is yours, Mr. Gregory,” said Raymond, tendering to him the trumpet, in the usual form.

“I don’t want it,” growled the first officer. “I shall not do duty any more.”

Raymond reported the answer to the captain.

“Call all hands!” said O’Hara promptly.

The call was immediately piped. As on board the vessels of the squadron, every officer and seaman had his station, and was required to repair to it instantly, whether the call came by day or night.

Every one went to his station except the three who had refused to attend the recitations. Possibly the conspirators could have induced others of their shipmates in the Josephine to join them; but they had had no time to work the case up.

[Illustration: MR. SHAKINGS TAKES CHARGE OF THE FIRST OFFICER. Page 249.]

“Here, Winchell!” shouted Gregory to one of his own watch. “Don’t go! We are going to stand out. O’Hara is running away with the steamer, and we need not obey orders.”

“Mr. Shakings, you will take charge of the first officer,” said the young captain. “Lock him into his state-room, and keep him there.”

Clinch followed the lead of his crony, and Mr. Rimmer was directed to serve him in the same way. Both of them were disposed to show fight; but the stout boatswain and carpenter made quick work with them. Stokes concluded, at this particular moment, not to “stand out,” and went to his station at the wheel.

No doubt Gregory was astonished to find himself and his conspiracy so easily overcome. He was a prisoner by himself, and likely to remain so for a considerable time.

As soon as the mutineers were disposed of, O’Hara called the ship’s company together. He did not allude to the event which had just transpired, except to state the fact that there were two vacancies in the officers’ cabin; and it was necessary that they should be immediately filled, for two quarter-watches were without officers. After consulting with Speers and Raymond, both of whom insisted that the vacant places should be filled without promoting either of them, the captain appointed Lawring first officer in place of Gregory, and Taylor in place of Clinch; both of them from the Josephine.

The firemen made a new demand for wine; but they obtained none, and they did not deem it prudent to “strike” again. In five days more the Ville d’Angers arrived at Portsmouth, with the Castle William in tow.