Part 44

“Take us back!” wailed the damsels, ignoring the sarcasm; “take us back, captain.”

“No, I can’t go back,” said the skipper. “You see what comes o’ disobedience, my gells. Lively there on that mains’l, d’ye hear?”

“We won’t do it again,” cried the girls, as the schooner came to the mouth of the harbour and they smelt the dark sea beyond. “Take us back.”

“It can’t be done,” said the skipper cheerfully.

“It’s agin the lor, sir,” said Ephraim Biddle solemnly.

“What! Taking my own ship out?” said the skipper in affected surprise. “How was I to know they were there? I’m not going back; ’tain’t likely. As they’ve made their beds, so they must lay on ’em.”

“They ain’t got no beds,” said George Scott hastily. “It ain’t fair to punish the gals for us, sir.”

“Hold your tongue,” said the skipper sharply.

“It’s agin the lor, sir,” said Biddle again. “If so be they’re passengers, this ship ain’t licensed to carry passengers. If so be as they’re took out agin their will, it’s abduction—I see the other day a chap had seven years for abducting one gal, three sevens—three sevens is—three sevens is—well, it’s more years than you’d like to be in prison, sir.”

“Bosh,” said the skipper, “they’re stowaways, an’ I shall put ’em ashore at the first port we touch at—Plymouth.”

A heartrending series of screams from the stowaways rounded his sentence, screams which gave way to sustained sobbing, as the schooner, catching the wind, began to move through the water.

“You’d better get below, my gals,” said Biddle, who was the eldest member of the crew, consolingly.

“Why don’t you make him take us back?” said Jenny Evans, the biggest of the three girls, indignantly.

“’Cos we can’t, my dear,” said Biddle reluctantly; “it’s agin the lor. You don’t want to see us put into prison, do you?”

“I don’t mind,” said Miss Evans tearfully, “so long as we get back. George, take us back.”

“I can’t,” said Scott sullenly.

“Well, you can look for somebody else, then,” said Miss Evans with temper. “You won’t marry me. How much would you get if you did make the skipper put back?”

“Very likely six months,” said Biddle solemnly.

“Six months would soon pass away,” said Miss Evans briskly, as she wiped her eye.

“It would be a rest,” said Miss Williams coaxingly.

The men not seeing things in quite the same light, they announced their intention of having nothing more to do with them, and crowding together in the bows beneath two or three blankets, condoled tearfully with each other on their misfortunes. For some time the men stood by offering clumsy consolations, but, tired at last of repeated rebuffs and insults, went below and turned in, leaving the satisfied skipper at the wheel.

The night was clear and the wind light. As the effects of his libations wore off the skipper had some misgivings as to the wisdom of his action, but it was too late to return, and he resolved to carry on.

Looking at all the circumstances of the case, he thought it best to keep the wheel in his own hands for a time, and the dawn came in the early hours and found him still at his post.

Objects began to stand out clearly in the growing light, and three dispirited girls put their heads out from their blankets and sniffed disdainfully at the sharp morning air. Then after an animated discussion they arose, and casting their blankets aside, walked up to the skipper and eyed him thoughtfully.

“As easy as easy,” said Jenny Evans confidently, as she drew herself up to her full height, and looked down at the indignant man.

“Why, he isn’t any bigger than a boy,” said Miss Williams savagely.

“Pity we didn’t think of it before,” said Miss Davies. “I s’pose the crew won’t help him?”

“Not they,” said Miss Evans scornfully. “If they do, we’ll serve them the same.”