“Let us go ashore,” interrupted Nick, “and we shall be safe to find out lots of fun for ourselves. It would be jolly fun, in itself, to be walking on hard ground again, instead of these everlasting planks. I suppose, as these islands belong to the Portuguese, and we’ve no quarrel with them, the skipper will go ashore, and allow the passengers to do so too?”
“He’ll go ashore, no doubt,” said a voice close at hand; “but he won’t let you go, I’ll answer for that.”
The boys turned quickly round, and were not particularly pleased to see the first lieutenant, Mr Grey, who had come aft, to give some orders, and had overheard the last part of their conversation. Mr Grey was no favourite of theirs. He was not downright uncivil to the boys, but he was fond of snubbing them whenever an occasion offered itself. It was generally believed also that a good deal of the captain’s harshness was due to the first lieutenant’s suggestions.
“You’d better leave the captain to answer for himself,” remarked Frank, his cheek flushing with anger. “I don’t see how you can know what he means to do.”
“Perhaps you mayn’t see it, and yet I may,” returned Mr Grey calmly.
“Why shouldn’t he let us go ashore, as he did at Madeira?” asked Warley. “Nothing went wrong there.”
“I beg your pardon,” replied the lieutenant; “things did go wrong there, and he was very much displeased.”
“Displeased,” repeated Warley, “displeased with us? What do you mean, Mr Grey?”
“I mean that you are not to go ashore,” returned the other curtly, and walking forward as he spoke.
Ernest’s cheek grew almost as crimson as Frank’s had done. The apparent insinuation that he had misconducted himself while on his parole of good behaviour, was one of the things he could least endure. Mr Lavie laid his hand on the boy’s arm.
“Hush, Ernest!” he said, checking an angry exclamation to which he was about to give vent. “Most likely Mr Grey is not serious. Anyway, if the captain does forbid your going ashore, you may be assured he has good reasons – ”
“What reasons can he have?” interposed Gilbert; “we are no more likely to get into trouble here than at Madeira, and who has a right to say we did anything wrong there?”
“The first lieutenant didn’t say so,” observed the surgeon. “I think there is some mistake. I’ll make inquiries about the matter before we enter the harbour.”
He moved away, and the boys resolved to retreat to their den, where they might hold an indignation meeting without molestation. This den, to which its occupants had given the classical name of “Dionysius’s ear,” or more briefly, “Dionysius,” was an empty space on the lower deck, about six foot square, where various stores had been stowed away. By some oversight of the men a dozen chests or so had been left ashore, and a vacant place in a corner was reserved for them. When, however, they were brought aboard, they could not conveniently be lowered, and were secured on deck. Master Nick, in the course of his restless wandering, had lighted on this void space, and it occurred to him that it would make a snug place of retreat, when he wished to be alone, as he not unfrequently did, in order to escape the consequences of some piece of mischief. When his friendship with his companions had been sufficiently cemented, he had communicated the secret to them, and Frank at once appreciated its value. Advantage had been already taken of it on one or two occasions, to evade an unwelcome summons from the skipper, or smoke a pipe at interdicted hours.
To be sure it was not a very desirable retiring room, and most persons would have considered a Russian or Neapolitan dungeon greatly preferable to it. As the reader has heard, it was about six foot square. It was lighted by a dead light in the deck above, which had fortunately been inserted just in that spot. Whatever air there was, came through the barrels, or along the ship’s sides. But it is needless to say it was at all times suffocatingly close, and nothing but a boy or a salamander could have long continued to breathe such an atmosphere. Entrance was obtained by pulling aside a small keg; the removal of which allowed just enough room for any one to work his way in, like an earthworm, on his stomach. Then the keg was drawn by the rope attached to it into its place again, and firmly secured to a staple in the ship’s side. Whatever might be its other defects, it was certainly almost impossible of detection.
Arrived here, our three heroes lay down at their leisure on some sacks with which they had garnished their domicile, and proceeded to discuss the matter in hand, lowering their voices as much as possible, as they had discovered that conversation might be heard through the barrels by any one on the other side, which fact, indeed, was the explanation of the name bestowed on their retreat. They were not at first agreed as to the steps to be adopted. Nick was for going ashore under any circumstances – the difficulty of accomplishing his purpose, and the fact of his having been forbidden to essay it, being, in his eyes, only additional incentives. Frank was not disposed to make the attempt, if his uncle really had interdicted it; but he professed himself certain that no such order had been given by anybody but the first lieutenant, and he was not, he said, going to be under his orders. Warley for once was inclined to go beyond Frank, and declared that though he would obey the captain’s order if any reasonable ground for it was assigned, he would not be debarred from what he considered his right as a passenger, by any man’s mere caprice. He added, however, that he thought it would be better to hear what Lavie had found out, before coming to any resolution.
“Well, it is time we should see the doctor, if we mean to do so,” remarked Frank, after an hour or so had passed in conversation. “We must be entering Porto Prayo by this time, or be near it at all events; and he must have had lots of time to find out everything.”
“Very good; one of us had better see Mr Lavie at once,” said Ernest. “I’ll go, if you like, and come back to ‘Dionysius’ here, as soon as I have anything to tell.”
He departed accordingly, and returned in about half an hour, looking very cool, but very much annoyed.
“Hallo, Ernest, what’s up now?” exclaimed Nick, as he caught sight of his face. “What does the doctor say?”
“I haven’t seen the doctor,” answered Warley. “One of the crew has been taken dangerously ill, and the doctor has been with him ever since he left us.”
“What have you learned, then?” asked Frank. “Are we in the harbour?”
“We’re in the harbour, and the skipper’s gone ashore. I saw his boat half-way to the beach. Captain Renton, Mr May, and Mr De Koech have gone with him. They are the only passengers who wanted to go.”
“Well, but I suppose there are some shore boats that would take passengers to and fro.”
“The captain has given orders that no shore boat is to be allowed alongside. He won’t even allow the fresh provisions, or the water, to be brought aboard by any but the ship’s boats. I saw the largest cutter with the empty water-casks in her, lying ready to go ashore presently.”
“Who told you this?” inquired Wilmore, half incredulous.
“Old Jennings, the quartermaster. He has charge of the boat. He said the captain’s resolved we shan’t leave the ship.”
“It’s an infamous shame,” said Frank. “I declare I’ve half a mind to swim ashore. It can’t be very far.”
“No,” said Nick, “but it wouldn’t be pleasant to land soaking wet, to say nothing of the chance of ground sharks. Even Lion had better not try that dodge. But I’ll tell you what – if