The Lifeboat | Page 8

you had, sir?" said the waiter, turning to Bluenose.
The man said this with a sneer, for he knew that the captain had taken nothing since he entered the house, and was aware, moreover, that he was a water-drinker.
"I've had nothin'," replied the Captain, "nor don't want any, thank 'ee."
"Oh! beg pardon, sir," the waiter bowed and retired impressively.
"The house couldn't keep goin' long with some customers," stammered a rough-looking, half-tipsy fellow who had overheard these remarks.
"Might do something for the good of the house," said another, who was equally drunk.
"Who bade you put in your oar?" cried the first speaker fiercely, for he had reached that condition of intoxication which is well known as the fighting stage. The other man was quite ready to humour him, so, almost before one could understand what had been said, a savage blow was given and returned, oaths and curses followed, and in two seconds one of the combatants had his opponent by the throat, threw him on his back, with his neck over the fender and his head thrust into the ashes.
Instantly the room was a scene of wild confusion, as some of the friends of both men endeavoured to separate them, while others roared in drunken glee to "let 'em have fair play, and fight it out."
The result of this quarrel might have been serious had not Bax thrust the yelling crowd aside, and, exerting to the utmost the extraordinary muscular power with which he had been endowed, tore the combatants asunder by main force, and hurled them violently to opposite sides of the room.
"Shame on you; lads," said he, "can you not drink your grog without quarrelling about nothing?"
The towering size and the indignant look of Bax, as he said this, were sufficient to quell the disturbance, although some of the more irascible spirits could not refrain from grumbling about interference, and the Yankee roundly asserted that "before he'd go into a public, and sit down and smoke his pipe without doin' somethin' for the good o' the 'ouse, he'd like to see himself chawed up pretty slick, he would."
"Waiter a-hoy!" shouted Captain Bluenose sternly, on hearing this.
"Yes-sir."
"Bring me a tumbler o' gin and a pot o' cold water."
"Tum'ler--o'--gin--sir--an'--a--por--o'--col' wa'r, sir? Yes--sir."
The waiter stopped suddenly and turned back.
"Mixed, sir?"
"No, not mixed, sir," replied Bluenose, with a look and tone of withering sarcasm; "contrairywise, wery much separated."
When the gin and water were placed on the table, the Captain quietly took up the former and cast it, glass and all, under the grate, after which he raised the pot of water to his lips, and, looking round on the company with a bland smile, said:--
"There, I've took somethin' for the good of the house, and now, lads, I'll drink to your better health and happiness in my favourite tipple, the wich I heartily recommend to you."
Bluenose drained the pot, flung a half-crown on the table, and swaggered out of the house with his hands deep in the pockets of his rough pea-jacket.
The fact was that the worthy Captain felt aggrieved, and his spirit was somewhat ruffled at the idea of being expected to drink in a house where he had oftentimes, for years past, regaled himself with, and expended his money upon, bread and cheese and ginger-beer!
CHAPTER THREE.
IN WHICH THE INTRODUCTION OF IMPORTANT PERSONAGES IS CONTINUED, IN RATHER EXCITING CIRCUMSTANCES.
"Where away's the boat, lad?" said Captain Bluenose to Bax, on recovering his equanimity.
"Close at hand; mind the fluke of that anchor. The owner of this spot should be put in limbo for settin' man-traps. Have a care of your shins, Guy; it's difficult navigation here on a dark night."
"All right, Bax," replied Guy; "I'll keep close in your wake, so if you capsize we shall at least have the comfort of foundering together."
The place through which the three friends were groping their way was that low locality of mud and old stores, which forms the border region between land and water, and in which dwelt those rats which have been described as being frolicsome and numerous.
"Hold hard!" roared Bluenose, as he tripped over the shank of an anchor, "why don't you set up a lighthouse, or a beacon o' some sort on these here shoals?"
"Starboard, old boy, starboard hard, steady!" cried Bax.
With seaman-like promptitude the Captain obeyed, and thus escaped tumbling off the end of the wharf at which they had arrived.
"Nancy, a-hoy!" cried Bax in a subdued shout.
A juvenile "Ay, ay, sir!" instantly came back in reply from the dark obscurity that overhung the river. The sound of oars followed.
"Smart little fellow that nephew of yours; he'll do you credit some day," said Bax, turning towards Bluenose, who, although close at his side, was scarcely visible, so dark was the night.
The Captain's rejoinder was cut short by the boy in question sending