Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (1706 page)

The captain mechanically let go of the carpenter’s collar; the mild despair of the man melted him in spite of himself.

“Why did you come to sea? Why didn’t you wait ashore till it was all over?” asked the captain, as sternly as he could.

“It’s no use waiting, sir,” remarked Simon. “In our line of life, as soon as it’s over it begins again. There’s no end to it that I can see,” said the miserable carpenter, after a moment’s meek consideration — ”except the grave.”

“Who’s talking about the grave?” cried Mr. Jolly, coming up at that moment. “It’s births we’ve got to do with on board this vessel — not burials. Captain Gillop, this woman, Mrs. Heavysides, can’t be left in your crowded steerage in her present condition. She must be moved off into one of the empty berths — and the sooner the better, I can tell you!”

The captain began to look savage again. A steerage passenger in one of his “state-rooms” was a nautical anomaly subversive of all discipline. He eyed the carpenter once more, as if he was mentally measuring him for a set of irons.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” Simon remarked, politely — ”very sorry that any inadvertence of mine or Mrs. Heavysides — ”

“Take your long carcass and your long tongue forward!” thundered the captain. “When talking will mend matters, I’ll send for you again. Give your own orders, Jolly,” he went on, resignedly, as Simon staggered off. “Turn the ship into a nursery as soon as you like!”

Five minutes later — so expeditious was Mr. Jolly — Mrs. Heavysides appeared horizontally on deck, shrouded in blankets and supported by three men. When this interesting procession passed the captain, he shrank aside from it with as vivid an appearance of horror as if a wild bull was being carried by him instead of a British matron.

The sleeping-berths below opened on either side out of the main cabin. On the left-hand side (looking toward the ship’s bowsprit) was Mrs. Smallchild. On the right-hand side, opposite to her, the doctor established Mrs. Heavysides. A partition of canvas was next run up, entirely across the main cabin. The smaller of the two temporary rooms thus made lay nearest the stairs leading on deck, and was left free to the public. The larger was kept sacred to the doctor and his mysteries. When an old clothes-basket, emptied, cleaned, and comfortably lined with blankets (to serve for a makeshift cradle), had been in due course of time carried into the inner cabin, and had been placed midway between the two sleeping-berths, so as to be easily producible when wanted, the outward and visible preparations of Mr. Jolly were complete; the male passengers had all taken refuge on deck; and the doctor and the stewardess were left in undisturbed possession of the lower regions.

While it was still early in the afternoon the weather changed for the better. For once in a way, the wind came from a fair quarter, and the
Adventure
bowled along pleasantly before it almost on an even keel. Captain Gillop mixed with the little group of male passengers on the quarter-deck, restored to his sweetest temper; and set them his customary example, after dinner, of smoking a cigar.

“If this fine weather lasts, gentlemen,” he said, “we shall make out very well with our meals up here, and we shall have our two small extra cabin passengers christened on dry land in a week’s time, if their mothers approve of it. How do you feel in your mind, sir, about your good lady?”

Mr. Smallchild (to whom the inquiry was addressed) had his points of external personal resemblance to Simon Heavysides. He was neither so tall nor so lean, certainly — but he, too, had a Roman nose, and light hair, and watery blue eyes. With careful reference to his peculiar habits at sea, he had been placed conveniently close to the bulwark, and had been raised on a heap of old sails and cushions, so that he could easily get his head over the ship’s side when occasion required. The food and drink which assisted in “restoring his tissue,” when he was not asleep and not “squaring accounts with the sea,” lay close to his hand. It was then a little after three o’clock; and the snore with which Mr. Smallchild answered the captain’s inquiry showed that he had got round again, with the regularity of clock-work, to the period of the day when he recruited himself with sleep.

“What an insensible blockhead that man is!” said Mr. Sims, the middle-aged passenger, looking across the deck contemptuously at Mr. Smallchild.

“If the sea had the same effect on you that it has on him,” retorted the invalid passenger, Mr. Purling, “you would just be as insensible yourself.”

Mr. Purling (who was a man of sentiment) disagreed with Mr. Sims (who was a man of business) on every conceivable subject, all through the voyage. Before, however, they could continue the dispute about Mr. Smallchild, the doctor surprised them by appearing from the cabin.

“Any news from below, Jolly?” asked the captain, anxiously.

“None whatever,” answered the doctor. “I’ve come to idle the afternoon away up here, along with the rest of you.”

As events turned out, Mr. Jolly idled away an hour and a half exactly. At the end of that time Mrs. Drabble, the stewardess, appeared with a face of mystery, and whispered, nervously, to the doctor,

“Please to step below directly, sir.”

“Which of them is it?” asked Mr. Jolly.

“
Both
of them,” answered Mrs. Drabble, emphatically.

The doctor looked grave; the stewardess looked frightened. The two immediately disappeared together.

“I suppose, gentlemen,” said Captain Gillop, addressing Mr. Purling, Mr. Sims, and the first mate, who had just joined the party — ”I suppose it’s only fit and proper, in the turn things have taken, to shake up Mr. Smallchild? And I don’t doubt but what we ought to have the other husband handy, as a sort of polite attention under the circumstances. Pass the word forward there, for Simon Heavysides. Mr. Smallchild, sir! rouse up! Here’s your good lady — Hang me, gentlemen, if I know exactly how to put it to him.”

“Yes. Thank you,” said Mr. Smallchild, opening his eyes drowsily. “Biscuit and cold bacon, as usual — when I’m ready. I’m not ready yet. Thank you. Good-afternoon.” Mr. Smallchild closed his eyes again, and became, in the doctor’s phrase, “totally comatose.”

Before Captain Gillop could hit on any new plan for rousing this imperturbable passenger, Simon Heavysides once more approached the quarter-deck.

“I spoke a little sharp to you, just now, my man,” said the captain, “being worried in my mind by what’s going on on board this vessel. But I’ll make it up to you, never fear. Here’s your wife in what they call an interesting situation. It’s only right you should be within easy hail of her. I look upon you, Heavysides, as a steerage passenger in difficulties; and I freely give you leave to stop here along with us till it’s all over.”

“You are very good, sir,” said Simon, “and I am indeed thankful to you and to these gentlemen. But please to remember, I have seven children already in the steerage — and there’s nobody left to mind ‘em but me. My wife has got over it uncommonly well, sir, on seven previous occasions — and I don’t doubt but what she’ll conduct herself in a similar manner on the eighth. It will be a satisfaction to her mind, Captain Gillop and gentlemen, if she knows I’m out of the way, and minding the children. For which reason, I respectfully take my leave.” With those words Simon made his bow, and returned to his family.

“Well, gentlemen, these two husbands take it easy enough, at any rate!” said the captain. “One of them is used to it, to be sure; and the other is — ”

Here a banging of cabin doors below, and a hurrying of footsteps, startled the speaker and his audience into momentary silence and attention.

“Ease her with the helm, Williamson!” said Captain Gillop, addressing the man who was steering the vessel. “In my opinion, gentlemen, the less the ship pitches the better, in the turn things are taking now.”

The afternoon wore on into evening, and evening into night.

Mr. Smallchild performed the daily ceremonies of his nautical existence as punctually as usual. He was aroused to a sense of Mrs. Smallchild’s situation when he took his biscuit and bacon; lost the sense again when the time came round for “squaring his accounts;” recovered it in the interval which ensued before he went to sleep; lost it again, as a matter of course, when his eyes closed once more — and so on through the evening and early night. Simon Heavysides received messages occasionally (through the captain’s care), telling him to keep his mind easy; returned messages mentioning that his mind was easy, and that the children were pretty quiet, but never approached the deck in his own person. Mr. Jolly now and then showed himself; said “All right — no news;” took a little light refreshment, and disappeared again as cheerful as ever. The fair breeze still held; the captain’s temper remained unruffled; the man at the helm eased the vessel, from time to time, with the most anxious consideration. Ten o’clock came; the moon rose and shone superbly; the nightly grog made its appearance on the quarter-deck; the captain gave the passengers the benefit of his company; and still nothing happened. Twenty minutes more of suspense slowly succeeded each other — and then, at last, Mr. Jolly was seen suddenly to ascend the cabin stairs.

To the amazement of the little group on the quarter-deck, the doctor held Mrs. Drabble, the stewardess, fast by the arm, and, without taking the slightest notice of the captain or the passengers, placed her on the nearest seat he could find. As he did this his face became visible in the moonlight, and displayed to the startled spectators an expression of blank consternation.

“Compose yourself, Mrs. Drabble,” said the doctor, in tones of unmistakable alarm. “Keep quiet, and let the air blow over you. Collect yourself, ma’am — for Heaven’s sake, collect yourself!”

Mrs. Drabble made no answer. She beat her hands vacantly on her knees, and stared straight before her, like a woman panic-stricken.

“What’s wrong?” asked the captain, setting down his glass of grog in dismay. “Anything amiss with those two unfortunate women?”

“Nothing,” said the doctor. “Both doing admirably well.”

“Anything queer with their babies?” continued the captain. “Are there more than you bargained for, Jolly? Twins, for instance?”

“No! no!” replied Mr. Jolly, impatiently. “A baby apiece — both boys — both in first-rate condition. Judge for yourselves,” added the doctor, as the two new cabin passengers tried their lungs below for the first time, and found that they answered their purpose in the most satisfactory manner.

“What the devil’s amiss, then, with you and Mrs. Drabble?” persisted the captain, beginning to lose his temper again.

“Mrs. Drabble and I are two innocent people, and we have got into the most dreadful scrape that ever you heard of!” was Mr. Jolly’s startling answer.

The captain, followed by Mr. Purling and Mr. Sims, approached the doctor with looks of horror. Even the man at the wheel stretched himself over it as far as he could to hear what was coming next. The only uninterested person present was Mr. Smallchild. His time had come round for going to sleep again, and he was snoring peacefully, with his biscuit and bacon close beside him.

“Let’s hear the worst of it at once, Jolly,” said the captain, a little impatiently.

The doctor paid no heed to his request. His whole attention was absorbed by Mrs. Drabble. “Are you better now, ma’am?” he asked, anxiously.

“No better in my mind,” answered Mrs. Drabble, beginning to beat her knees again. “Worse, if anything.”

“Listen to me,” said Mr. Jolly, coaxingly. “I’ll put the whole case over again to you, in a few plain questions. You’ll find it all come back to your memory, if you only follow me attentively, and if you take time to think and collect yourself before you attempt to answer.”

Mrs. Drabble bowed her head in speechless submission — and listened. Everybody else on the quarter-deck listened, except the impenetrable Mr. Smallchild.

“Now, ma’am!” said the doctor. “Our troubles began in Mrs. Heavysides’s cabin, which is situated on the starboard side of the ship?”

“They did, sir,” replied Mrs. Drabble.

“Good! We went backward and forward, an infinite number of times, between Mrs. Heavysides (starboard) and Mrs. Smallchild (larboard) — but we found that Mrs. Heavysides, having got the start, kept it — and when I called out, ‘Mrs. Drabble! here’s a chopping boy for you; come and take him!’ — I called out starboard, didn’t I?”