The Pirates in the Deep Green Sea (19 page)

Graceful as ever, she extended one of her several
arms, and taking Timothy by the hand swept majestically out of the cave. The Crab looked at her reproachfully and said, ‘I don't know what your mother would have thought, Miss Dildery, if she had lived to see this day. Your mother—'

‘My mother,' interrupted Miss Dildery coldly, ‘would have known her duty as I know mine. Be so good as to direct me to your sleeping-shell.'

She knew the way as well as the Crab himself, but she insisted that he should accompany them. She held Timothy firmly by the hand, and listened attentively while he explained his plan. They reached the shell without being seen, and while Timothy went to the back door, Miss Dildery—who could assume almost any shape she liked—flattened herself beneath it and crept towards the front entrance. Timothy let himself in, very carefully, and waited in the darker part until he saw the light grow dim in the outer half. Then he moved slowly forward, ready to rush in and seize Hew as soon as the shell grew black. But Hew now stood on the far side of the pirates, and the blackness came so quickly, and was so impenetrable, that Timothy himself was lost in it; and though he shouted to Hew, Hew did not answer.

Then, in the inky darkness, he felt a boy's slim arm, and when the boy screamed he clapped a hand over his mouth and whispered, ‘Be quiet, it's me! It's Timothy. Come this way, and come quickly.'

The boy resisted a little, but Timothy pulled him into the narrow part of the shell, and out of it by
the back door where Miss Dildery and the Crab were waiting to guide him through the shadows. Not until they were several yards from the shell, and safely among the tall weed, did he discover that it was Dingy the Cabin Boy whom he had rescued.

Timothy and Miss Dildery were very depressed by the failure of their plan, and Dingy stood snivelling between them. The Crab said he had known all the time that no good would come of their scheme, and told Miss Dildery that it was time she went home. Slowly they returned to Coral Villa, taking Dingy with them because they did not know what else to do with him. Now, with all the pirates awake and alarmed, there was no hope at all for any further attempt to rescue Hew.

Timothy thanked Miss Dildery as warmly as he could for her help, and she said sadly that she had done her best and was sorry indeed for their ill fortune. She hoped they would meet again, she said. ‘I feel our cause is not yet lost,' she added. ‘I feel it
here!
'—And she pointed with one of her long arms to what was presumably her heart.—‘You must not despair, for I am sure that you and your brother will be reunited, and I even dare to hope that somewhere, and some day, I shall see Cullifer again.'

She blushed more deeply than ever, but at that moment her eight nephews and nieces rushed out to greet her, followed by the old Cod in her cap and apron, who had been trying without any
success to put them to bed. So Timothy said goodnight, rather hurriedly, and persuaded the Crab to show him the way to the two Powder Monkeys' hiding-place. He took Dingy, because there was nowhere he could leave him.

They had a long way to go and Timothy was very tired, the Crab very sulky, and Dingy very tearful before they reached the dark uncomfortable cave, in a narrow ravine, where the Powder Monkeys and the two basking sharks lay all together in hiding. William Button and Henry String were overjoyed to see Timothy, and he was thankful to find them again. Even the sharks, who recognised him at once, said ‘Moo-oo' in a very friendly way. The Crab fell fast asleep, without wasting any time, and Dingy crept into a corner and went to sleep too. But Timothy and the Powder Monkeys had a great deal to talk about. They had also plenty to eat, for William Button had robbed a sleeping-shell that morning, and Timothy, who was hungry, ate a hearty meal of shrimp paste and lobster paste and whale's milk.

He told the Powder Monkeys all he had learnt about the pirates' plans, and about his brother's capture, and his failure to rescue him. William Button and Henry String were by this time much more serious than they had been at the start of their voyage from Popinsay, for the disappearance of Timothy and Hew had frightened them badly and they bitterly regretted having dared them to ride the porpoises. They agreed that there was
now more need than ever to hurry southward to Davy Jones's summer court, since Inky Poops was about to attack him; but they sympathised, too, with Timothy's reluctance to leave Hew in the hands of Dan Scumbril, who was preparing to voyage to the north.

‘Your brother ain't going with Scumbril,' said a whimpering voice behind them, and looking round they saw the miserable face of Dingy the Cabin Boy. Dingy in his sleep had smelt shrimp paste, and being as hungry as Timothy he had wakened and come to see if he could beg some food. ‘Give me a bite to eat and I'll tell you something interesting,' he said.

‘If you know anything,' said William Button fiercely, ‘you tell it now, or I'll give you punch-pudding!'

‘No,' said Timothy. ‘Let him have something to eat.'

Very unwillingly William Button obeyed him, and Dingy with his mouth full said, ‘'E knows better than you, Bill Button! ‘E knows what pays in life, and that's kindness. If I'd ever been treated kindly—'

‘You'd still be the same snivelling, sneaking little twister that you are now,' said Henry String.

‘I ain't talking to you,' said Dingy. ‘I'm talking to him, see? And give me another lump of shrimp or I won't talk to any of you.'

‘Let him have it,' said Timothy.

‘Thank you, mister. And maybe you'll give
me something better when I've told you what I know about your brother?'

‘What do you know?'

‘He ain't going with Scumbril, he's going with Inky Poops. They were playing at cards for him, see? And Inky won because Inky knows how to deal, and Dan Scumbril don't.'

‘If that's true,' said William Button, ‘—and if it isn't true I'll beat your ears off!—it means your brother will be there when Inky attacks Davy Jones's court. So perhaps we'll have a chance to take him prisoner.'

‘If he's going the same way as we are, we might be able to rescue him before the battle,' said Timothy. ‘How fast will Inky Poops travel?'

‘A big fleet like his is always pretty slow,' said William.

‘We could make double their speed, going on our own,' said Henry String.

‘So we could afford to keep watch on them for a few hours at any rate,' said Timothy, ‘and then, if there doesn't seem to be any chance of saving Hew, we'll put on speed and still be in time to warn Davy Jones.'

‘It's risky,' said William Button.

‘I think the risk is justified,' said Timothy in his most serious manner.

‘Then we ought to get some sleep,' said Henry String, ‘for Inky Poops may be making an early start.'

‘Eight bells in the morning watch, that's when
he's moving,' said Dingy. ‘'E never gets up earlier than that.—And wot about a reward for all the news I've given you, mister?'

‘What do you want?' asked Timothy.

‘A nice drop of rum,' said Dingy, swallowing the last of the shrimp paste and licking his thin lips.

‘We haven't got any.'

‘Ask ‘im,' said Dingy, pointing to William Button. And William confessed that he had taken a bottle when he robbed the sleeping-shell, just in case it might be useful for bribing or cajoling a wandering pirate, if they should happen to meet one.

‘But rum's against orders, isn't it?' asked Timothy.

‘Orders!' said Dingy contemptuously. ‘Wot'ave we got to do with orders? There ain't no one ‘ere to see wot we do.'

Timothy was still doubtful, but William Button took him aside and whispered, ‘Give him a good dose of it, and it'll make him sleep. Otherwise, you see, we'll have to tie him or keep a watch on him to make sure he doesn't slip off and give information about us. A good dose of rum will save us a lot of trouble.'

‘All right,' said Timothy, ‘but don't give him enough to kill him.'

‘Trust me,' said William, and went for the bottle he had hidden. He gave Dingy a good measure in a drinking-shell, and Dingy, with a
hiccup and a wink and a wave of his hand, went off to sleep beside the basking sharks.

Henry String asked Timothy: ‘What are we going to do with him to-morrow?'

‘I've thought of that,' said Timothy. ‘Miss Dildery — the octopus, you know — told me that she used to have a butler, and though she had to get rid of him because of his bad habits, she misses him dreadfully. The only maid she has now is an old Cod who wears a cap and apron, so I can't imagine what her butler was like. But she wants another, and I think we might give her Dingy. It will please her, and it will be promotion for him — from Cabin Boy to Butler is a tremendous step.'

William Button and Henry String began to laugh, and the more they thought of Dingy's new occupation, the louder they laughed. They laughed so noisily that they woke the basking sharks, who complained like cows in summer when the milkmaid is late in coming. They woke Dingy too, and to celebrate his promotion they gave him a little more rum. Then they and Timothy went to their beds, and laughed more quietly till they fell asleep.

‘We forgot all about the Crab!' said Timothy.

‘I wouldn't worry about him,' said William Button, yawning and stretching himself. ‘He'll sleep for forty-eight hours maybe, and then wake up and forget everything that's happened.'

They had risen in good time, and saddling their sharks, had taken Dingy to Coral Villa. Miss Dildery, though flustered by the arrival of visitors so very early in the morning, before she had powdered her beak, had been delighted to acquire a new butler. Dingy himself had not been much pleased by his promotion, but they paid no attention to him, and after a little polite conversation with Miss Dildery set off again with all possible speed. They showed proper caution, however, as they approached the outposts of the pirate armies.

There was no sign of movement yet in their lines, and Henry String took up a position high over Inky Poops's camp to keep watch, while William Button and Timothy rose above him to the surface to see what sort of a day it was. The sea was calm again, and lay like a great blue
meadow stretching to a bright horizon, and the tall clear sky above them promised fair weather. They sat in the whale-bone howdah, and splashed their feet in the water, as comfortably as if they were sitting on a ledge of rock on the Hen of Popinsay—and suddenly they remembered the Crab, whom they had left fast asleep in the dark cave where they had spent the night. But they forgot him again almost as soon as they had remembered him; for they had more important matters to occupy their thoughts.

Their intention was to swim southward on the flank of Inky Poops's fleet, and observe the manner in which it was ruled. If discipline was loose and the fleet moved in a scattered untidy fashion, they hoped there would be a chance to make a bold foray into the midst of it and snatch Hew from Inky Poops's howdah; in which, they thought, he was sure to be travelling. They had no great hope of success, and they could form no definite plan; but Timothy was very anxious to make one more effort to rescue his brother before the pirates joined battle with Davy Jones's loyal sailors.

The blue sea was all untenanted, there was no ship within its wide circumference, and for some time, while their shark had a morning nap, they kicked their feet in the clear water and tried to imagine the sort of opportunity they wanted, and the tactics they might use to save Hew from the enemy. Then, about half a mile away, the surface of the sea grew darker and was ruffled as though a
breeze had suddenly sprung up. But there was no sign of wind elsewhere, and Timothy was puzzled by the patch of broken water until William Button told him there was a shoal of herring there.

‘It must be a very big shoal,' said Timothy.

‘Nothing like as big as sometimes they are,' said William. ‘That one's no more than eighty yards across, by the look of it. I've seen ‘em three or four times as broad.'

‘How deep is the shoal?'

‘I couldn't tell you that. I've never gone into the middle of one, and I don't think I'd like to, somehow.'

‘It might be a good idea,' said Timothy, remembering that Gunner Boles's Shell had told him that herring were among the friendly creatures he could expect to meet. ‘It might be a very good idea,' he repeated. ‘But can they speak, or do they just make noises like a shark?'

‘They speak all right,' said William, ‘but not like you or me. They don't ever speak one at a time, and I don't think they can. But you'll hear a shoal of them chattering away like a lot of old women, though they're all saying the same thing, which isn't like a lot of old women after all. Let's go a bit nearer, if you want to hear them. They often have a sort of sing-song at this time of the morning, and the songs they sing are just what you'd expect from a lot of herring. Barmy, if you ask me.'

They woke the shark, and very slowly, so as not
to alarm the herring, approached the Shoal, and presently they heard a soft and pleasant little tune that seemed to blow across the water like a summer breeze.

‘We'll go down a fathom or two,' said William Button, ‘and then you'll hear it clearer, and hear the words too.'

So they sank below the surface, and this is what they heard:

‘Swift and soft and silent—
shoo!

Shimmering, shivering—
whew, whew, whew!

The Silver Shoal like a silver shade

Shows you a silvery sly charade—

What's the sense and significance

Of our slithery, slippery, silver dance?

We seek a few

Sweet shrimps—
hoo, hoo!

For our supper, our supper, oh, what shall we do

If the shrimps have set sail for the South of Spain