Absalom glanced from Adam's small, earnest face to Smy's pensive visage, then at Joel Bym's goggling eyes—and chuckled, then laughed, clashing his fetters as in an ecstasy.
"Smy," said he, at last. "Oh, Smy, hast said it, man, hast said it, or I'm a salted codfish!"
"Eh, Lom—I? Now what a plague said I?"
"A sucking Solomon, a prattling sage, a young Daniel, for so he is, or damme! Though one of internal disquiet by his looks,—how now, Adam, is 't thy head or stomach ails thee?"
"Both!" answered Adam, faintly. "Pray get me to my cabin."
So thither he stumbled, supported by Joel's brawny arm; and there, somewhat revived by the cleanly, buffeting wind, he suffered Antonia to bathe and re-bandage his aching head, and thereafter sank to heavy slumber.
CHAPTER IX
TELLS HOW THE "LONDON MERCHANT" BECAME "THE ADVENTURESS"
He awoke early next morning to new vigour, with such unwonted hunger that, making all haste to wash and get into his only other shift of garments, forth he went to seek breakfast.
But reaching the open deck he paused to shade dazzled eyes against the level beams of a sun that, new risen in fiery splendour, made a sparkling glory of the sea through which this stately vessel rode with a smooth and gracious pride.
Coming to the lee bulwark he leaned there, all else forgotten, to gaze down at radiant ocean and up at spreading sails and the multitude of ropes and cordage, marvelling now at God's vast and awful handiwork, and now at the ingenuity of Man whose brain could thus conceive and hands construct this floating miracle of wood and canvas. And in this moment Adam knew he was henceforth to love the sea, the dreadful beauty of it, and the brave ships that dared its might.
Now as he stood thus rapt in a sort of ecstasy, he was startled by a shrill, agonized scream, with a heavy fall and crash of breaking crockery, and speeding instantly towards these sounds, beheld a small urchin who lay sobbing bitterly amid a litter of splintered plates and dishes.
"Why how now?" said Adam, stooping above this small person. "Art hurt, my child?"
The boy raised a blood-smeared face, blinked away blinding tears and stared up at his questioner, then, gulping his sobs, answered manfully as possible:
"Sir, I bean't a child, ho no, sir! I be Capn's cabin boy ay, sir, and I be powder boy to number four gun starbard battery. And I only cried a bit 'cause when he kicked me I falls and cuts me,—though I don't mind blood—much! So I ain't a child, sir, if you please."
"No no," smiled Adam, raising the little fellow to his legs, "I crave pardon, my man, pray what's your name?"
"Charles, sir, but they calls me Smidge aboard ship, and I likes Smidge better nor Charles, so call me Smidge, sir, if y' please. But have you been in a war, sir,—your figure-head all lapped in a clout, so?"
"Somethin' o' the like, Smidge. Now tell me who kicked you so hard."
"Only the Cap'n, sir, him being a bit angry-like this morning."
"You show something young for the sea, Master Smidge, and don't speak like a ship's boy, I think."
"But I tries to, sir, only my ... my mother learned me to speak soft and read and write ... but when she died I ... I run away to sea, being so very lonesome-like."
At this moment a bell tinkled nearby and a harsh voice shouted, whereupon little Smidge caught up his fallen tray in shaking hands.
"Boy!" shouted the voice again.
"There be the Cap'n, sir, I must go."
"To be kicked again, Smidge?"
"I hopes not, sir, yet go I must."
"No!" said Adam, taking the tray. "I will. Bide you here." Then guided by the Captain's shouts he came to a certain door, opened it and stepped into a very spacious, handsomely furnished cabin where, at well laden table, sat Captain Elihu Sharp with James Dodd the Master and another officer. Clapping the tray beneath his arm, Adam saluted them with a bow, saying:
"Gentlemen, a very good morning to ye."
The two officers stared, Captain Sharp scowled.
"Now who the devil may you be?" he demanded.
"Adam Penfeather, sir, entirely at your service."
"So? Then serve me by sheering off. Begone, d'ye hear? Ay, and send me that cursed, snivelling little brat, and lively."
"Not I, sir!" answered Adam, approaching the table and laying the tray there. "You have kicked him so hard that I came in his stead."
"Hey—you? Now what the devil d'ye mean?"
"That you shall not vent your splenetic, foul humours on such poor, small child, sir. So now, if you must kick someone, pray kick me and you shall bleed for it."
Captain Sharp seemed to stiffen in his chair and opened his eyes as if shocked and amazed beyond speech; he gazed at Adam's puny form from spindle shanks to bandaged head, he blinked, gulped and finally spoke.
"Bleed?" he repeated disbelievingly, his ferocity tempered by breathless astonishment. "Bleed was it? Did dare ... blast your eyes ... ha, bleed me, will ye?"
"Sir, 'tis you shall decide," answered Adam, whereat the two officers looked from his lean, pale face to their passion-shaken captain, glanced at each other and averted their faces.
"Why, you ... you ..." gasped Captain Sharp, "you little, cursed, pitiful whelp, will ye dare to threaten me ... and on my own ship?"
"Nay," sighed Adam, "I venture warning. Kick me and bleed, invite me to breakfast and I shall be glad to join ye."
Uttering foul invective, Captain Sharp made to rise; taking knife from the table Adam tried its edge on his thumb, staring into his would-be assailant's glaring, blood-shot eyes the while. Suddenly, his quick ear caught a stealthy sound behind him, he swayed nimbly aside and a tall, barefooted mulatto, missing him by inches, crashed sprawling across the table, scattering plates and dishes, and all was confusion. Adam was backing towards the door when he was checked and staggered by an unseen fist, then smitten to his face; but as he lay thus helpless to be kicked and cuffed, glimpsed a pair of stout legs that skipped in familiar bouncing manner, heard an arrogant, full-throated bellow:
"Sblood and death—what's here? Ods wounds, what's doing? Hold off or I'll mischief ye! You trample friend o' mine! What a plague——?"
"Here's murder, Sir Benjamin!" cried the Captain. "'Tis mutinous rogue drew knife on me."
"Tush and ten thousand curses!" roared Sir Benjamin, his bouncing legs becoming passionate. "I tell ye this gentleman you outrage is friend o' mine."
"And, sir, I tell you 'tis murderous villain would ha' knifed me!"
"Od's my life, Captain, will ye dare me? Ha, Penfeather, you hear him?" cried Sir Benjamin. "What says't thou, Adam?"
"Sir," answered Adam, getting to unsteady legs, "you behold here the knife, but——"
"How?" cried Sir Benjamin, recoiling in dismay. "You took knife to the Captain?"
"Ay, I did,—but to mine own defence."
"Nay," cried the Captain, "'twas with most fell and bloody intent o' murder ... we be all witnesses thereto! And how then?"
Sir Benjamin sighed dismally, shook head dejectedly, his very legs (these so eloquent members) appeared to languish.
"Ha!" cried Captain Sharp. "Sir Benjamin, I perceive you are acquaint with the old rule and law o' the sea—to wit: Whoso draweth knife aboardship with murderous intent, shall lose his right hand! 'Tis good and ancient custom and shall be duly observed. Master Dodd, at the next bell, let sound trumpet with beat o' drum to muster all hands aft to see justice done and infliction o' punishment. Meantime the young, murdering villain shall be seized to the main, and the knife slung about his neck and set two armed men for guard. See to it, Mr. Sprot,—away with him!"