Chapter III: Part 3

But Kep now began to think, to dream of home. What a long, long time had elapsed, reckoning by events, since he sailed away from the white cliffs of England. What would his brave, proud father be doing at this moment, and dear Madge and her playmate Bounder; Madge would be missing her letters, she would be praying for him too, every night. Wonder if ever she went up alone to his turret chamber, high above the waving elms. Wonder if Bob, the great white owl, ever came more now to look in of a night, or if he had forgotten Kep entirely. Wonder how long it would take a sea gull to fly to England. If _he_ had wings he wondered if--if----

"Koo--ee--ee!"

He started to his feet. He had fallen asleep in that grey old arm-chair.

"Koo-ee!"

"Coming, Adolph; coming, comrade, coming?"

That dinner was very good to eat.

But now they gat them back to the ship, and it took all the afternoon to lengthen the guys, by splicing on additional pieces, for the work had to be very strong to stand the strain.

The boat was lowered and launched next day, and it really was new life for them to paddle around the coast in her.

The boat was anchored in a little cove every night now, and in her they slept. It was a capital arrangement, and they had no more bother with the snakes.

But on nights when the sea was rough--which was not very often, because when it blew, it did so in dead earnest, and soon had done with it--they hauled her well up on the sand, and slept peacefully as usual.

They went to the hill-top almost every day--but no, no, no, they never saw a sail, and they began to think they would live and die on Great Snake Island.

But as far as the boat was concerned, they grew bolder and bolder.

They stepped a little mast and a brief jib-boom, and set sail therein, and when the wind was favourable went quite a long way out. At last they determined to visit the far off and greater island. So one day, when the wind was favourable, they loaded up with everything needful, hoisted their canvas and started.

They had taken their rifles and plenty of ammunition with them, but Kep prayed that they might not have to use them.

This prayer was heard. But they found no savages on the islands, which they reached at last, nor was there any other land visible all the wide horizon around.

So they slept in their boat as usual, and next day set out to explore, and to climb the hills.

Everything most unsatisfactory. No beauty nor romance anywhere, except that of the sea itself.

So they determined to return next morning. But the wind had died down to a perfect calm, which held for three days, the stars at night blazing with a brilliancy such as Kep had never witnessed before in all his long life, of "fourteen years, and begun again."

On the third day of their imprisonment on this new island the sun shone with greater fierceness than ever, and Kep, who was a most daring swimmer and diver, stripped and dashed head first from a rock, down, down fathoms and fathoms into a blue-green pool beneath.

For just three minutes this boy had trained himself to hold his breath beneath the water. At the bottom he clutched at and held on to something, and for seconds remained motionless.

But what had he clutched at? Why, it was a piece of shell-encrusted iron--a ring-bolt. He stood on the deck of a sunken ship, and one, too, of olden build, and olden times.

All thought of returning to Great Snake Island was for the time abandoned, and about once an hour, until quite exhausted, Kep dived down, and each time returned to the surface with something strange and stranger to tell. She had sea-worn guns on board. She looked like an old Spanish galleon, or a pirate, or a specie ship.

This last guess proved to be right; for the wreckage about the decks proved that the seamen, whoever they may have been, had tried to save heavy boxes, and from the side of one of these, a piece of gold had fallen, only a small bar, but this the boy took up with him.

He was tremendously excited. "Oh Adolph!" he cried, "we have discovered a treasure ship."

"_You_ have, Kep, not I."

"But we shall be rich, Adolph. Rich beyond compare. In that blue-green pool millions may be awaiting us. Are you not glad?"

"We'll get back to our Island of Snakes, Kep, and when the ship that must come some day, arrives, they will tell us the latitude and longitude, which at present we can't even guess. Then, some day, perhaps--we may return and raise the gold. But there is many a slip, Kep, twixt the cup and the lip."

Kep wouldn't hear of slips and lips; he was very young and very buoyant. Yet he had grit in him. "Look here, Adolph," he said, "I'm a man of determination. If ever we leave these regions alive, depend upon it we shall return. This is as certain as sunrise. So there!"

Well, the boy really said what he thought, and meant all he said.

A fair wind at last, rather much of it, but life had suddenly become more joyful and hopeful, and they had no fear, when they hoisted their jib and little mainsail, that they would get safely across.

But, alas! the wind changed almost suddenly, and they had to tack. This was slow work, and dangerous too, for they shipped much water, and had they not baled and kept on baling, their boat would have been swamped.

Darkness came on. They had nothing now to guide them, for they had not thought of bringing a compass.

They had the electric lantern, a strong one, and this they flashed from time to time across the awful sea, the waves of which looked doubly dreadful in the darkness.

It must have been some time past midnight, when suddenly Kep clutched at his comrade's arm.

"Adolph, Adolph! O God! what is that?"

It was a light. No, but lights, steadily advancing towards them.

They shouted now, yelled and shrieked, and flashed their light.

Was it seen? Were they heard? Yes, yes, even as God Himself hears prayer.

In less than ten minutes they were on board a strange Australian-bound ship, and telling their marvellous adventures to passengers and crew. But, it is needless to say, that one portion of their adventures they kept silent about, the discovery of the sunken treasure.

And more of sunken gold, I do believe, lies in the sea, or hidden on islands, than we are aware of.

In dim green depths rot ingot laden ships,
While gold doubloons, that from the drowned hand fell,
Lie nestled to the ocean-flowers' bell
With love's gemmed rings once kissed by now dead lips.

And round some wrought-gold cup, the sea-grass whips,
And hides lost pearls, near pearls still in their shell,
Where sea-weed forests fill each ocean dell,
And seek dim sunlight with their countless tips.

But adventures so terrible were not altogether credited by the skipper of the _Wampiri_, nor by his few passengers either. Else the probability is, that the former would have gone some distance out of his way to salvage a portion of the _Macbeth's_ cargo.

He was on a passage, and bad weather had blown him considerably out of his way. It would have been folly, therefore, to have delayed.

This ship was outward bound, and had rounded the Horn, and was under all sail for Adelaide and Sidney.

Sidney, why, the very name of the place made Kep's heart jump for joy. The _Breezy_ might be there!

Both Adolph and Kep lived forward with the men, and were very snugly bunked indeed. They had come to like each other very much, and Kep felt a little sad when he thought that in the ordinary course of things they might soon be parted. In one thing they swore to each other to be true. Namely, that neither should divulge the secret of the ingot-laden ship unless the other consented. Something grand might come of this secret, but it must, for the present, be theirs and theirs only.

Once more, even in the _Wampiri_, Kep's flute found him friends. The ship was a clipper of an almost obsolete type, and really belonged to one old man. She was good enough to have had engines put into her, but her owner, who had been at sea himself in his younger days, would not hear of his beautiful white-winged ship being turned into a blessed smoke-jack, and she never would be.

Suffice it to say, she got there all the same, and so Kep and his comrade were at last safely landed at Sidney.

And this beautiful and busy city, with its beautiful and busy great harbour, crowded with the ships of all nations, its streets thronged with well dressed people, its spacious public buildings, and its street cars, what a change all was from life on the lonesome ocean, and the death-life of those inhospitable and barren islands.

How Kep, in his boyish gratitude, thanked God for all He had done for them.

Sidney, but no _Breezy_.

And yet, somewhere in or about these seas, or on the shore of Eastern Africa, or the coral coast of New Guinea itself, something told Kep that the _Breezy_ was. He had never forgotten the kind smiling face of the young lieutenant, who had taken him down to the wardroom; no, nor the reception that had been accorded him by the crew forward. He still harboured the impression that his fate would be to get appointed to the _Breezy_ in some capacity or another.

But now he remembered that he must seek for employment of some kind. He had some money left, but this he shared with Adolph. He could not see his comrade badly off, and they meant to try hard to get berths in the same ship again.

It would have been easy for Adolph to book as steward's assistant, or even as steward in some homeward bound ship, but no one seemed to need Kep's peculiar talents.

His appointment to the _Macbeth_ appeared to him, now, to have been but a fluke. Heigho! would he ever make such a fluke again.

Adolph got a position at last, as waiter in a good hotel, and Keppel Drummond, the son of a lord of an English manor, a place--as what? Why, as a boy to clean the knives and run messages at a neighbouring restaurant.

What a downfall! But really, such downfalls, if in cases such as Kep's they can be called so, are by no means uncommon in Australia. And, after all, honest work is no disgrace.

So he kept up his heart, and was happy, and even hopeful--wasn't the _Breezy_ coming some day. He had written to Madge during the voyage in the _Wampiri_, a mail-bag from which went home by a passing steamer. He had told her all his joys, but never a word about the horrors of the _Macbeth_. He would not shock her.

He was expecting a letter almost every day, and the time seemed long indeed. But then anything might have happened to prevent the delivery of his own letter to her. The address he had given was simply Poste Restante, Sidney. He went there every day for weeks, and noticing his woe-begone expressive face, a kindly clerk at last took pity on him, and promised in the event of a letter coming, to forward it at once to his lodgings.

But wonders will never cease, and one day, while hurrying to send off a telegram, who should Kep see coming, swinging along the street on the opposite pavement, but Jack Stormalong himself.

What a happy meeting! Kep begged a whole day off, namely, that evening and next forenoon, and he got it too.

"I knew we'd meet, my little friend. By the way, is your name still Bowser. And you haven't repented yet, and become a prodigal son."

"Well, I can't easily be a prodigal son, Jack, on ten shillings a week, and a tip once in a blue moon. But how is Katie and her mother?"

"Splendidiferous sonny, simply splendidiferous. Going to get married at the end of my time."

"Why, I thought _I_ was going to marry Katie, and that you would marry the mother!"

Jack laughed so heartily that people looked at him and laughed too.

"You precockshious boy! But hold on a few years, my youngkie, and we'll raise and rear another Katie specially for you."

"But how came you here, Jack?"

"Well, you know, I couldn't well walk, and I like this station, so I volunteered like for the _Newt_, and yonder's the _Newt_, two guns, square and trig, and a regular one to jump the seas. And I'm one of the gunners, and good pay too. You've just got to wait a bit, and something will turn. Oh yes, sonny, something is sure to turn up. I say, though--I--I--that is, I am overflowing with useless money, lad, can I give you some?"

"Oh, thanks, a thousand times, Jack, but no, it ain't pride, Jack, it ain't pride. But I've sworn to work up the rigging of life without a helping hand, and I mean to do it. Why, Jack, since I saw you last, I've learned another language--the Arabic," he added.

"Why, you be a freak, sonny, and Jack Stormalong is proud to know you. And you've still the little black flute, and its ribbon blue. Strike me lucky, lad, if I don't think you have a bit of a sweetheart in Old England."

Kep was merry to-day, madly merry.

"Look here, Jack, I've never done such a thing before, but just for a lark, I'll try the passers-by with a bit of Wagner, and see the effect. You stand by, will you? Don't laugh, but I've charmed snakes before to-day."

Kep was in beautiful form. He stood a yard or two off the pavement, it was a rather quiet street, and began.

Then goodness me, readers, how the music and melodies of the great composer did bubble and gush, and ripple and rush, from out the little black flute! He had a well-dressed crowd of listeners around him in a brace of shakes.

He finished off with a low, sweet, mournful air, that thrilled the listeners. Then, with downcast eyes and face a little red, he appeared to be putting back the flute in order to walk away.

"Here," cried a gentlemen in the crowd, "none of that. Over-modesty never pays, boy."

Off came his straw hat. He tossed a big silver bit into it, Jack threw in a shilling, and in less than a minute at least, five shillings found its way into the boy's pocket from out that hat.

But Kep's face was like a burning coal now. He bowed and thanked all hands, and Jack was following Kep, when the same gentleman tapped him on the shoulder.

"You seem to know the lad?"

"Yes, and his story too."

"Give me his address, there's a good sailor man."

Jack did so, and neither he nor Kep thought any more about it.

"By the way," said the latter, as if it did not matter much whether he received an answer or not, "ever hear anything about the _Breezy_?"

"Why," cried Jack, "the _Breezy_ has been on this station for months, or here and hereabouts. She is going to do big licks," he added, "when the time comes, the _Breezy_ is."

Well, they spent some jolly hours together, and as long as the _Newt_ was in the harbour, they managed to see each other every evening.

But one day, soon after the street adventure, a gentleman called and asked to see Kep. He was the same who had collected the coin for the boy that day on which he had played on the street.

Very straight and business-like was this Mr. Howe, and concluded the interview in a few minutes.

"Wanted to know if you can manage to come to my house at seven, and play a bit to my wife and me."

Kep told him he would be very pleased indeed to do so.

"Here is my card then."

And this is what came of it. Kep was engaged at one of the best music halls in the city, to play solos, and not only this, but to tell in his own simple language, the terribly tragic story of the ship _Macbeth_, at a salary of three pounds a week.

Few believed the terrible tale. People seldom will believe what is true; but flowing so winningly and well from the lips of the handsome dark-eyed sailor boy, it was a bait.

Kep cleaned no more knives nor boots.

But his music hall career came to a conclusion almost as suddenly as it had commenced. Anyhow, his old pal, Jack Stormalong, had brought him good luck, and things looked brighter now, for he had a letter from his sister, and the _Breezy_ came in.

*CHAPTER VIII*

*A BREEZY SHIP, A BREEZY CAPTAIN, AND A BREEZY CREW*

A sailor is quite within his rights in boasting about his ship. So is an author. Well I modestly advance that I have some little claim to be called sailor and author both. You must forgive me, then, if I do brag a little about my ship--the _Breezy_, and presently I will tell you how she came to be known by that name. Even a landsman would naturally conclude that a craft with such a name must be an airy and brisk little bit of steel. A naval officer might possibly think twice before coming to any such conclusion, for I myself have known tubs of things with pretty high-sounding "tallies," built let us say for coast defence, that went snorting and snoring round our shores, with the water gurgling up their "nostrils," as a boy once called the hawse-holes, and out of which no commander ever yet succeeded in knocking eight knots an hour.

But on the other hand our British Navy ships are generally well-named. The small craft have wicked wee names, and many are called after insects and birds. In my own earlier days in the service there was a _Wasp_, and she was a wasp too, and made it hot many and many a time for gentlemen Arab slave dhows.

Well, there is a _Hornet_ to-day, a 240-ton torpedo destroyer. And a twin-screw gunboat yclept the _Kite_. A bigger one is the _Landrail_, and of course there is a _Locust_ and a _Lively_ and a _Lizard_. You get to something higher when you find the _Orion_, higher and heavier is the _Hawke_. But such names as the _Implacable_ 15,000 tons, the _Irresistible_, the _Majestic_, or _Bulwark_ thrill you to the marrow if it be a soul you have at all and not a gizzard.

I love that name _Bulwark_. It is grand. It is ringing, and brings to your memory the most splendid sea poem that has ever been written,

Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep.
Her march is o'er the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep.

Well, Britannia has one _Bulwark_, and woe betide the first enemy's ship she talks to in anger.

But about the _Breezy_. You won't find her in the present Navy List because you are supposed to be reading a story of 1907. Yet, for all that, I have to use the past sense.

Well, Jack the ordinary seaman, or Able seaman, I mean--doesn't like a long name. So when this war-vessel was nearly all ready to slip off into the water a name had to be sought for her, and somebody suggested _Briareus_.

"Sounds well," said the Admiral, father of the little tottie who was going to baptize her, touch a button and let her go free.

"Sounds well," he said, "but what was _Briareus_?"

"Oh," was the answer, "he was a terrible Greek giant of bygone times, who wandered over the mountains and by the sad sea shore and was possessed of one hundred arms, and fifty heads."

"My word," said the Admiral, "he must have been a bruiser!"

"Well, Admiral, if he had fifty heads the probability is that he had nearly a hundred eyes, though a few of them had no doubt got knocked out, but for all that he must have been able to see well. And this ship is built for special surveying service, do you understand, sir.

"Capital! _Briareus_? A hundred eyes. First rate!"

There was only one hitch, and, not for the life of her could little Marie remember the word, though she lay awake half the night saying it over and over to herself.

She thought she had it at last, yet when the time came and just at the last moment, as one of the smartest sailors was holding her up in his arms to enable her to push the button, she forgot it again.

"Oh, what is it dear sailor," she whispered.

And Jack whispered too. "Call her the _Breezy_, my love, and be blowed to her."

And to the astonishment of everyone near by, Marie lisped out these very words: "The _Breezy_ and _be blowed to her_."

* * * * *

Now when the _Breezy_ left Plymouth Sound she was starting on her very first cruise--newly commissioned.

She had new guns, six of them; none very large but all fearful spitfires. She was steel--steel all over, but this same steel whether in masts, or tops, or decks, or plates, was a new invention, and to all intents and purposes impenetrable. There was no wood about her that was inflammable, and the officers' cabins were lined with a species of newly invented papier-mache, which by itself could resist rifle bullets. But above all, the marines or bluejackets who might be wanted to fight in exposed positions had light shields and breast-plates of this same marvellous material.

The _Breezy_ was going surveying, but she had moreover special diving machines, of which more anon.

I have always looked upon a ship as a living, sensitive thing, and it seems right to call her "she," especially if she is sprightly and beautiful and obeys her helm well (I was very nearly saying "obeys her husband").

I am sure of one thing; that when on that bright and sunny morning the _Breezy_ went clipping through the water and heading for the waves, she knew she was the cynosure of all eyes and every opera glass on the Hoe. She was as proud as a girl with a pink silk petticoat, as a sailor observed.

* * * * *

They were all young in the _Breezy's_ wardroom, and the Commander himself, who, as befitted his rank lived in solitary grandeur in his quarters farther aft, was considerably under thirty.

To a great extent the grey-beards, as they were somewhat irreverently called, were cleared out of the Service as far as smaller ships on foreign stations were concerned. That is they had been placed on the retired list.

It was found that old men, though possessed of more experience, more grey matter on the brain, were hardly active enough in their lower extremities. They had the courage right enough, but they were somewhat deficient in dash and go.

In the wardroom there lived and moved and ate their beef, two lieutenants, a marine officer usually called our "soldier," the engineer lieutenant, the assistant pay-master in charge, and last, but certainly not least, for he stood six feet one inch in his home made hose--the Surgeon.

When I tell you that the Captain--a Commander he really was in rank--was one of the jolliest round-faced and boyish-looking officers in the service, you will understand how pleasant it was to sail with him.

But his name was, or rather had been, Brazier before he took over the _Breezy_.

"Don't much like that name," said Jack Jewell, a sturdy built A.B. "Do you, Tom?"

Tom Davis said, "No, I don't either."

"Let's boil him down, Tom."

"Boil away, Jack."

So Captain Brazier was allowed to simmer a while in the brains of Jack Jewell, and lo! he came to the top of the pot as Captain Breezy. The name worked gradually aft. The boatswain got hold of it, the gunners also, then the officers and skipper himself.

The Captain didn't mind it a bit.

Captain Breezy of H.M.S. _Breezy_ sounded smart. From bowsprit, then, to binnacle the _Breezy_ really was a smart ship.

Surgeon McTavish, M.D., of the great Northern University of Aberdeen, had been the very last officer to join the ship. He came soon after Kep had left on the day of his visit.

Everyone had been wondering what manner of man the surgeon would turn out to be, and small innocent bets were made on the subject.

Mr. Sneyd, the assistant-paymaster, who was small himself, and wore a little nut-cracker of a face that would have done for a door-knocker, betted he was a short chap and red-haired, and couldn't speak intelligible English.

The marine officer said he was blue-faced and bulbous-nosed.

The engineer lieutenant thought that he could not know much, coming from so heathenish a country as Scotland.

"I don't bet," said Bertram Wynn, the first lieutenant, "but let me tell you, gentlemen, that proportionately more clever and scientific men come from the Scottish Universities than from any three English ones put together."

Well, at all events it was evident that his would-be messmates did not expect a very great deal out of the doctor. He would be disappointing.

His traps came on board hours before he himself did.

Little Mr. Sneyd came down below with very big eyes in his head.

"By gum!" he cried. "I've seen the doctor's traps and I've lost my little bet. Run in to his cabin, Sodjer, and see them."

The marine officer, who was still very young and therefore obedient, disappeared.

"Well, Sodjer?"

"I'm puzzled. Guess I'll lose my bet. Here are some of his things that I saw his servant putting away.

"Item:--Two Highland broadswords.

"Item:--A full kilt Highland dress, including dirks and sporrans, brogues and a bonnet and crest, and skean dhu mounted in cairngorm. (The kilt is presumedly a clan McTavish tartan one.)

"Item:--A set of great Highland bagpipes."

"Oh, Lord!" cried Guilford the second lieutenant, putting his fingers mechanically to his ears, "go on, Sodjer."

"Item:--A pair of dumb-bells, the fellows you've got to put up you know--80 lbs. each. And," added Sodjer, "my bet's lost, for no man with a bulbous nose could put up things like that."

"Heave round, Sodjer. Anything more?"

"Item:--About fifty volumes of scientific books including the British Encyclopaedia."

"My bet's lost!" This from the engineer while the first lieutenant smiled.

"Item:--A ram's head snuff box. Twisted horns, tips mounted with silver and cairngorm.

"Item:--A big Bible. It is very likely--

"'The big ha' Bible ance his father's pride.'"

Well, when the surgeon himself did appear, he certainly commanded respect. He was handsome as well as well-built. Indeed among the others he appeared a perfect Hercules as he undoubtedly was an athlete.

Englishmen cannot help admiring an athlete no matter what his nation may be. Then his uniform fitted him well. He appeared to have been melted and poured into it, while little Sneyd's seemed to have been put on with the aid of a hay fork.

The surgeon's smile was a winning one, and there was a quintessence of kindliness lying half asleep in his dark-blue eyes that was very pleasant to behold.

He saluted the first lieutenant most respectfully, and the two men shook hands.

"Glad you've come at last, Surgeon McTavish We shall be friends. You are, I hear, a man of scientific attainments, and I dabble in science myself a little."

In the mess that evening Sneyd had said--

"Look here McTavish, I owe you an apology. I thought no good thing could come out of Nazareth--I mean Aberdeen, but now I cave in."

"Well spoken! Bravo, Sneyd," cried the others. Indeed there was a murmur of approbation all round the table. Sneyd was manly and truly English despite his queer little face.

But McTavish stood up. There was moisture in his eyes. But he stretched out across the table an arm half a fathom long and shook little Sneyd by the hand.

Sneyd suppressed a cry of pain, and there came moisture into his eyes next, though its origin was not quite the same.

The _Breezy_ was to be something more than a mere surveying ship and that is the reason why her officers were one and all chosen from the best young fellows in the Service.

For Britain even now was--well apparently drifting gradually into war, and though the Admiralty believed it would be averted, a good deal of what might be called naval police work would devolve upon the _Breezy_. She had to be watchful and her duty would not consist entirely in sounding and chart-making.

The surgeon's cabin was not very large, but his books were, and of scientific instruments he possessed not a few. However there was the dispensary at his disposal and Lieut. Wynn also offered him space for books in his own cabin. So McTavish was soon very happy and quite settled down.

It was a merry mess, although very little wine was consumed except when guests came off, as they did at Madeira, St. Helena, Ascension and the Cape.

The middies' mess was just as jolly, and had five right hearty young lads in it, ready at any time to do anything for anybody or for their country.

In this year of 1907 pass exams for the Service were stricter than ever. There was a splendid staff of men at headquarters, and they would only have the _creme de la creme_.

Well, although nobody except the captain and first lieutenant were supposed to know what the _Breezy's_ special instructions were, her duties were soon an open secret.

German ships of war were careering about and along both the west and east coasts of Africa. They wanted looking after. Then marvellous to say the Sultan of Zanzibar had somehow become very wealthy--diamond mines--and had built himself a really smart navy. But his ships were sentinels to the British Government for all that. It was deemed good and wise for Britain to have a scout fleet like this within jumping distance of India and the Red Sea.

The Admiralty had learned experience since 1904 and were making use of it.

They were, as every great nation should be, on the outlook for future eventualities. So, long before they reached the Cape everyone on board the _Breezy_ had quite settled down into his place, and all the officers felt at home. Moreover they all knew each other thoroughly by this time, and knew each other's points of character also, whether hard or soft.

It is a good thing on board a ship during a long commission for officers to be like brothers. They are together in sunshine and in storm, in peace and in danger. Moreover, they ought to respect even each other's foibles.

With so kind a captain and one so interested in the welfare of those under his command the _Breezy_ promised from the very first to be a little community afloat, all willing to please and be pleased, and to adhere strictly in discipline and etiquette to the rules and regulations of the King's Navy.

As they were all young they naturally wanted to, and were determined to, see everything there was to be seen at every port.

They were treated well wherever they went, and if they stayed but a week at a place there was some social function or another every day, and sometimes twice. Dances and dinners, picnics, cricket-matches, or football-matches, fishing parties, shooting parties, or anything the Breezies, as they came to be called, were always in it.

Sometimes, too, they gave a dinner and a dance on board, and this was a real merry evening for all concerned.

Sailors, let me tell you reader, are far more hearty and as a rule better liked at ball or party than soldiers.

Sailors come and sailors go, but soldiers keep on for ever. The poor you have always with you. It is hardly fair of me to speak so perhaps, and I hope to be forgiven.

Well, the _Breezy_ steamed up the East Coast of Africa and began work in earnest. They visited the Sultan and the Sultan's fleet and were very much struck with all they saw, and had a deal of as good fun as they could ever hope to enjoy.

About Madagascar and the Mauritius they did much surveying work, and after several months they were ordered to Australia.

By this time the Surgeon and Lieutenant Wynn had become almost indispensable to each other. Both were scientists. Indeed the lieutenant was studying hard for his D.Sc. (Doctor of Science), and there is no doubt that he would attain it.

In this year of 1907 and 8 the Admiralty at home had found the utility of always putting a round peg into a round hole, and not into a square one. The days of promotion by seniority alone were gone by and every officer knew that his own merits would score more than influence with big wigs at home. Good officers can only be had through a process of evolution. You cannot make them to order.

And it was just the same with the men forward. A smart boy who honoured discipline was certain of soon having stripes upon his sleeve that brought him respect, even when he went on a spell of leave back to the humble country village where his mother and father lived, and that necessity of life to a handsome young sailor--his little girl.

Talk of the Navy changing. The ships may change and do change, and will keep on changing about every ten years, but Jack himself--Oh never.

He is still the handy man, and still the British heart of oak. "No laggard in love, no dastard in war," is your bold Jack Tar.

*CHAPTER IX*

*THROUGH THE HAWSE HOLE*

To the Temple of Varieties in the city of Sidney went one evening the young and rather girlish-faced marine officer, Surgeon McTavish, and Lieutenant Guilford all from the _Breezy_, in order to hear a good song. Only in mufti were they of course, but Mac's mufti was the Highland dress and a grand appearance it gave this bold and scientific Scot.

Indeed Mac's servant was a Scot, Sandie Reid was his name, and whenever the doctor told him to lay out his mufti it was the kilt and sporran he got ready.

"I meant English mufti," said the doctor to him one evening.

"You'll hae that or damn the thing else?" replied Sandie with the determination of a Scottish servant who loved his master. "You're no' goin to give Sandie Reid a red face by seein' his master's bonnie Hielan legs rammed into leathern drain-pipes. If ye do, ye'll hae to seek an English servant."

The first day that the surgeon put on the Highland garb to go on shore in was at St. Helena. The officers going on shore were waiting on the quarterdeck for the boat and talking and laughing, when little Sneyd the A.P. with the door-knocker countenance came up from below.

Now Sneyd was sometimes in a nasty temper and when he was so he was apt to be a little offensive.

He had got out of his bunk that day at the wrong side perhaps, but when he saw McTavish arrayed in the tartan of his clan, he pretended to be startled, stepped back a pace or two and looked at him up and down.

"Is this the twentieth century?" he cried, "and do you mean to say that the captain will allow one of his officers to go on shore dressed in that uncivilized semi-savage costume?"

Then suddenly pretending to be heroic, "Oh, I forgot the romance of Walter Scott," he said.

"Ne'er in battle-field beats heart more brave,
Than that which beats beneath the Scottish kilt."

McTavish laughed. But Sneyd sneered. His shot hadn't hit the bull's eye.

"I suppose," he said, "like most Scots that join our Service, you're the only gentleman in your family, Mr. McTavish." This was mean, for the doctor's family were really only honest crofter folk.

"That's hitting beneath the belt," cried the engineer.

"Apologise, Sneyd."

And the others shouted for an apology.

"I refuse," said Sneyd.

"The reason being," said McTavish quietly, "that there wasn't even one gentleman in Sneyd's family."

"Bravo, McTavish. Bravo!"

But McTavish wasn't quite done with little Sneyd.

"What's your weight, Sneyd?"

"Well, doctor," replied the A.P., conscious now that he had gone too far, "just nine stone."

"Pooh! that's nothing. I can put up 200 lbs." And before Sneyd knew what was up, the surgeon had seized him by the collar of his upper garments and stood erect holding the little man straight over the sea.

"For God's sake let me down. Lower me. Lower me. I apologise!"

"Do you see the blue shark that has been following our ship for days?"' cried McTavish.

"I see the blue devil. Do lower me, for mercy's sake."

Next moment the doctor stood him on the deck.

He did apologise now, and all was forgiven.

"Lower me," he had shouted while suspended over the sea, and everyone admitted that on the whole he had been lowered considerably. Yet Sneyd when not in the pet was really one of the best little men in the ship.

But about this night on shore? Well, in due course Kep came on the stage, most takingly dressed in the uniform of a middy of the Merchant Service.

He seemed to see no one, and probably he didn't; but he told his story--that tragedy of the sea which now was improved by appropriate scenery--the lantern.

His performance received round after round of applause, and when he returned with his piccolo, and said laughing, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to play you the very Sonata from Wagner, with which I used to charm the snakes," the cheering was renewed. He was recalled three times.

The last time he played a sweetly melancholy melody from Faust, and when he had finished and during the appreciation lull, he drew his sleeve across his eyes as if to wipe away a tear.

"I've got a little gal in England, ladies, and that's how."

Then he bowed himself prettily off the stage.

"But I say, McTavish," cried young Guilford, "you're positively looking a bit pale."

"I'm taken aback," said the doctor. "I've met that boy, if boy he be, before. At Nice I think. But it is but a fancied resemblance I can now see to a charming Italian girl I knew for an all too brief period of my existence."

"Well, I happen to know the lad," said Guilford. "That is the boy Bowser. He came on board the day before we sailed, and he did make all hands laugh I assure you, and you should have seen our fellows dancing. We'll stroll round to the green room and see him." And so they did.

They knocked. "May we come in for one minute?" said Guilford.

"You do us honour. British Naval Officers are welcome everywhere," answered Mr. Howe.

Then Kep came blushing up, and Guilford shook him squarely by the hand. This is young Charlie Bowser, Dr. McTavish. He is down in the play bills as Gerald Montmorency.

"I say, Charlie, can you come off to-morrow evening? I'll send a boat."

"It must be at nine then, sir, after I get done here."

Charlie _alias_ Kep, or Gerald Montmorency, did come off, and great things happened. He didn't get home till twelve, but that really didn't matter.

He made an impression again, for he was not only a freak with the piccolo, but the piano also, and he was a marvel from a linguistic point of view.

Just before he left he had another interview with Lieutenant Guilford.

"I've spoken to our Captain," he said, "and if you are still of the same mind I can get you a berth. Can you play in our little band?

"I can lead, but would rather not join the Service, sir, to be rated as a bandsman. But," he added quickly, "it is the dream of my life to be in this same beautiful ship. Oh, I shed tears, sir, when you sailed past and left me on the Hoe. Yet I leave myself entirely in your hands." He was smiling merrily as he added, "I can clean knives and boots, sir."

"Your name isn't Bowser."

"It must remain so."

"You ran away from home."

"Yes, sir, but I won't run back, till I've seen the world and done something. My mind is made up."

"You are fifteen?"

"Nigh on it."

"You are of good birth. I believe you, your manners are quite a model. Will you tell us your real name?"

"I promise to do so, I will do so _sine dubio, sed sine die_.[1] When you left, sir," he continued, "I just stuck a pin in a page of Bradshaw's Guide, and it struck the West Indies. And thither I went. So you see. I came into the merchant service _ad aperturam libri_."

[1] Without a doubt, but without appointing a day.

"Through the hawse-hole. Eh?"

"That is it, sir. And here I am as willing as ever to make myself useful."

"But you are leaving a good thing. What do they pay you at the Variety Hall?"

"Oh, three pounds a week. But I get tips from gentlemen and lots of kisses from sweet ladies. Then I share some of my money with Adolph."

"And who may Adolph be?"

"Oh, he is head waiter at the C---- Hotel. He was steward of the _Macbeth_, and my comrade through all that terrible time on Great Snake Island."

"Then the mutiny and all that is really true, Charlie?"

"Yes sir, though the _plebs_ hardly believe it, and I do love Adolph very much. An Austrian he is, sir, but we talk in French."

"Well, we have a berth open for your comrade, Charlie, and we'd like, but it is a matter of business.--We couldn't give you L3 a week, and there are no sweet ladies on board to shower kisses on you."

"Oh, sir," said Kep laughing, "I can easily go on shore for the kisses."

"We are going back to Africa again to make the slave-dealers hum, and there we need an interpreter, but he must understand Spanish and Portuguese as well as Arabic."

"Hurrah! Pardon me, Lieutenant Guilford, but I couldn't really help saying 'Hurrah!' I'm as good as rated--interpreter to H.M.S. _Breezy_."

"Good-night, boy. Come in the first dog watch to-morrow evening, and you shall hear our conclusion."

"Good-night, sir."

Kep went away in the dinghy.

It was a lovely starry night, with, high above, the southern cross, and the moon's rays shimmering on the water.

Kep, who was a good diplomatist, took out his piccolo, and quavering over the waters came now the unearthly music of that proud old song which touches the spine of every true British sailor or soldier, namely,

"_Good-night. All's well._"

"By George!" said Guilford to McTavish, "he is a broth of a boy."

"Yes, and we must have him. He is bound to be the sauciest boy in the Service."

Kep was rated all right--interpreter. And he so pleased the gun-room officers that he was invited to become an honorary member of their mess.

And Kep was happy now, more especially as Adolph was chosen to supersede the Captain's steward, who had died in the Mozambique channel.

One day very soon after, brown-faced Gunner Stormalong sought audience of the Commander of the _Newt_.

"If you'll excuse me, sir, I want to speak a moment."

"Certainly."

"Well, sir, the _Newt_ I hear is ordered home, but the _Breezy_ will be out for some years longer, and I'd like to be in her to serve out my time, and Gunner Myers would take my place, if so be, sir, that you'd let us exchange."

"Readily, Jack, readily, and if he is only half as good a man as you, he will do for us."

"Thank you, sir, and God bless you, sir."

And Jack bowed and retired, and next day he was a gunner on the _Breezy_.

That's how things turn out in the Service.

*CHAPTER X*

*THE BROADSWORD-MEN OF THE "BREEZY"--KEP CUTS OFF A LEG*

Young Kep Drummond's work on board the _Breezy_ was no sinecure from the very beginning. Not that any one forced him to do things, but he was good-hearted, and had all a well-bred boy's willingness to work and help as well.

From the very first he had taken to the doctor, probably from that law in nature which causes large bodies to attract smaller. This merely in a physical sense, but it is true from the mental side also. Dr. McTavish had a large and lofty mind. One of his chief studies was astronomy, or rather a study of the heavens and the illimitable star-depths. Like all students of science, he liked to be listened to by his juniors. Well, he had a good listener and an ardent admirer in Kep.

The _Breezy_ was sent on a special mission back to the Cape of Good Hope, whence they would receive further instructions from the Admiral of that station, and whose house was at Symon's Bay, but his home really on the rolling deep on board the huge flagship _Greater Britain_. She was one of a class then being built--30,000 tons, 30 guns, 30 knots an hour. She had a specially constructed bottom, and feared no danger from bursting torpedoes, for the Admiral of the ship and the others of its family could, when in action, so protect the ship that they would explode harmlessly in the water before they could touch her bilge.

The biggest of our present-day ships would look like pigmies beside a monster of the deep like this. The _Union_ was needed in these waters, because the Germans and French had possessions in Africa. And in fact these two countries, although not our open foes, were jealous of our power at sea, and the vast amount of territory occupied. In some of their would-fain-be comic papers the Germans cartooned Britain as the young cuckoo who, as it grows, hustles all its other little comrades to whom the nest in reality belongs, out of it to die. Britain with America really meant not only to occupy the whole of Africa, and civilize it, but the whole world was in time to become an English-speaking world; then all wars would cease. It was a big scheme, but then, like everything else, civilization is, as far as this earth is concerned, infinite. It is a seed that once sown grows and expands with marvellous rapidity, especially when aided by the fostering power of true Christianity.

Well, in their way across the six thousand miles of lonesome water which stretches from Australia to the Cape, although the _Breezy_ encountered many a storm, there were many and many beautiful nights, when the sky was clear, and the stars so near apparently, that the main truck appeared to be moving amongst them.

It was on such nights as these that Kep loved, figuratively, to sit at the feet of the sailor surgeon, and hear him tell the story of the star-depths, those greater universes that exist so far from ours, that even trying to imagine the distance has before now sent even a scientist mad.

But Kep assisted the doctor in the dispensary also, and this was quite as necessary on board the _Breezy_ as a study of the star-depths. And Kep was ever handy with water, sponges, bandages and thread whenever an operation was being performed.

There is no harm in a boy having a good opinion of his abilities, so long as he does know a few things well.

One day the doctor, who was really and truly swinging himself hand over hand towards a main-top battery, when he sprained his ankle. He was so strong and so healthy that he felt he could almost fly, and this was the result.

Next morning early Kep entered his cabin on tiptoe with a bowl of nice ship's cocoa, which the bold surgeon, who had been awake nearly all night with pain, gratefully drank.

"You are a good lad, Charlie."

"Yes, I know that. I suppose I can't help being so. I suppose freaks are mostly always good-hearted. But, sir," he added coolly, "you won't turn out to-day. You may keep your mind perfectly easy. I will see the sick."

The doctor laughed aloud at the conceit of the lad.

An hour afterwards, with an improvised crutch under his arm and his bathing drawers on, McTavish was forward on the upper deck, with a man playing the sea-hose on him and his poor swollen ankle. There were forward also the middies, and one or two of the ward-room officers, all enjoying the same healthy fun. When stripped this marvellous athlete, who three years ago, when only twenty years of age and still a student, had wrestled with and overthrown a champion, was greatly admired. And though on that day the ankle was considerably swollen he put up his 80 lb. dumb-bells just as usual.

He put Kep himself under training, and the boy began to grow from the first fortnight thereof, though he was not tall.

His father, however, had taught him swordmanship, and at this work he could beat every gun-room officer.

There was one man forward, namely Jack Stormalong, Kep's friend, the gunner, who was almost as tall and well-developed as the sailor-surgeon, who saw him stripped once, and felt his muscles.

"What arms and chest and legs for broadsword exercise _a la Scottice_," said the doctor.

"Be they, sir?"

"By St. Andrew, they are, Stormalong. You're good with the cutlass, I hear."

"Fair."

"Well, I think I've found a hero worthy of my steel, and with the permission of the first lieutenant, I shall put you under special training, and teach you the broadsword. I've got two of those old Highlanders, splendid bits of steel, so we shall see."

Well, Jack just set his mind to it, and soon mastered the art, and became nearly as proficient as his master. Whenever it was possible the doctor and Jack had broadsword play after the wash-deck bath, and before dressing. McTavish never towelled down, and wouldn't let Jack do so.

"It isn't Scotch style," he said, to the middies who were there in full bathing costume--drawers. "You can't have too much salt on your skin, boys."

Even older officers would crowd forward to see the play at early morning. They had, as usual, small bets on, and ridiculous ones, such as "a postage stamp that has only been used once," or "a hair of the dog that bit you," etc.

The man who was severely pressed lowered sword, and the bout was over. But often Highland targes--two at the surgeon's directions were made by the armourer--were used, and long, strong sword-sticks instead of the claymores. There was good fun with these, and they were not so dangerous. Besides, umpiring was more easy, because if one man was marked on the skin above an important group of muscles, or received the point, he was declared _hors de combat_.

But soon not only the gun-room officers, but the engineers became enamoured of the play, and in time as many as ten couples might be seen fighting like Red Indians on the deck at one time.

Finally, by the time they reached the Cape, a corps was formed of the best athletes, men with timber on hip and calf, and these were called the Broadsword men of the _Breezy_.

But there was an engineer from Cumberland, a splendid fellow, and another of the same build belonging to Glasgow, who were both desperate wrestlers, though this was unknown to any save themselves. Well, one day there was a kind of gala performance took place on the _Breezy_, to be followed by music and dancing in the evening, and the two engineers resolved to vary the performance. They told the doctor, and he sanctioned it. It would be a bit of extra fun anyhow.

It was, moreover, the captain's birthday, and the ship was beautifully dressed with gay bunting below and aloft. The party was very select, and many soldiers were there, and beautiful women, chiefly to see the Broadsword-men of the _Breezy_, and to listen to Kep's piping of his favourite _Faust_ and _Wagner_.

The deck was so seated that everyone had a good view, while the crew clustered everywhere. There were fifteen couples entered the arena with targe and broadsword stick. And the performance was a never-to-be-forgotten one.