The Powder Monkey | Page 4

of the gang made a dash at the little fellow to separate them; but at the first touch the boy uttered a wild cry and clung tightly to his protector, who made a desperate effort to defend him, shouting the while for the landlady to come and take the little fellow.
But it was all in vain: Jack and his young companion were torn apart, hurried down the stairs and out on to the Strand, and a few minutes later the boy was set at liberty, to spring to Jack's side, panting with excitement as he clung to him tightly; but it was with the water rippling and pattering against the bows of the boat which was being rowed rapidly out of the harbour towards the bay. Not long after, as the coxswain's boat-hook caught a ring, the boat glided against the towering side of a great line of battleship, and the two prisoners were hurried up on deck, and Jack Jeens in spite of all protestations was made one of the crew of HMS Victory, and his little companion, the youngest boy on board, without a chance of setting foot ashore again.
For at sunrise the sails were shaken out, and the great man-of-war with its tiers of guns was soon after leading the way down Channel in search of England's enemies, followed by the British Fleet, while the news that the fleet was commanded by Admiral Nelson seemed to Jack Jeens and the little fellow with whom he had become so strangely associated only so many empty words.
CHAPTER THREE.
Jack Jeens sat upon the bottom of an upturned bucket with his elbows resting upon his knees, gazing down at his young companion of the previous night's adventure, who was half sitting, half lying, upon the lower deck of the great ship, close to the open port-hole, through which the morning light shone upon his face as he went on eating a biscuit, through the edge of which his keen pearly-white teeth passed like those of a mouse.
It was light enough close to the boy, but all inward was very gloomy, and every here and there a lanthorn was burning dimly, although it was morning.
There was plenty of noise and bustle going on about the deck where the lanthorns burned, and the trampling of feet, and shouts that sounded like orders came now and then; but the principal sound just there by the port-hole through which the light came was the crunch, crunch, crunch of the biscuit.
At last Jack Jeens spoke.
"It caps me," he said. "Seems wonderful. Here you are, just aboard ship for the first time, and 'stead o' being badly and sick, eating away like a reg'lar biscuit nibbler."
"I was so hungry," said the little fellow, with a bright smile.
"Eat away, then," said Jack; "but I say, arn't you frightened?"
"Not now," said the boy. "I was when those sailors came and woke me up."
"Course you would be," said Jack. "Why, it scared me. But arn't you frightened now?"
The boy shook his head and took another bite at the hard biscuit.
"Why arn't you frightened?" said Jack, after a good long stare at the biscuit-nibbler, as he called his companion.
"Because you're here," said the boy.
"Yes, I'm here, o' course," said Jack, staring hard as if puzzled. "I'm a-sitting close to yer; but that don't make no difference because I'm a pressed man."
"You'll take care of me and see that no one hurts me," said the boy, confidently.
"Oh, o' course," said Jack, scratching his head. "That is, while I'm here, but what's going to become of you when I'm gone?"
"Gone?" said the boy, sharply, as he left off eating. "You're not going away to leave me, are you?"
"Well, no," said Jack, grimly. "It's you who are going away to leave me."
"That I sha'n't," cried the boy, quickly. "I'll never go away from you. I like you."
"That's right," said Jack Jeens, grinning with satisfaction; "and of course I like you too, youngster. But they'll be setting you ashore soon, so that you can go back to your folk."
The boy shook his head.
"What do you mean by that?" said the sailor, sharply. "Lookye here, you never told me what your name was, nor where you come from."
The little fellow frowned and looked pained.
"Got a name, haven't you?" said the sailor.
"Yes, of course," cried the boy. "Phil."
"Phil, eh?" said the sailor. "Phil what?"
"Leigh," was the reply.
"Phil Leigh, eh? Hard a-lee. Well, where do you live?"
"At Greyton," said the boy, slowly and sadly. "No, I used to live there, till--till--till--"
"Yes, I know," said Jack, quickly, as he grasped the meaning of the boy's working face. "But why don't you live there now?"
"Because uncle came," said the boy, with a shudder, "and then I--I--You won't take me back, will you?"
"Dunno yet," said Jack, sternly. "Boys arn't got no