“I can’t spare you; I haven’t finished the exercise yet,” replied Mr. Hamblin, sourly. “This is a plan to break up the lesson in Greek, because some of the young gentlemen don’t like to study it.”
“I beg your pardon, sir; but the officer of the deck sends me word that the squall is upon us. You can hear the thunder and see the lightning,” added Paul.
“I am not afraid of thunder and lightning,” growled the professor. “My classes are not to be broken up on any frivolous pretences. Mr. Lowington assured me I had full powers over all during study hours; and I tell you to be seated, and go on with your recitation.”
“But the vessel is in danger, sir,” protested Paul.
“I’m not afraid, and you need not be. Take your seat, sir, or I will report you to the principal.”
Paul’s face flushed. No officer or professor had before ever threatened to report him to Mr. Lowington. Mr. Hamblin was as ignorant as a baby upon nautical matters, and while the Josephine rolled easily on the waves, and the sails flapped idly against the masts, he could imagine no peril.
“I am sorry to disobey your order, sir; but in this instance I must,” said Paul, firmly, though his voice trembled with emotion.
“Very well, sir,” replied the professor, angrily, “I shall report you to the principal, and if I have any influence with him, you will be removed from your present position.”
Paul did not wait to hear any more, but hastened on deck. His quick eye discovered the peril of the moment. The squall was indeed upon them. At the peak of the Young America hung the signal which had been hoisted; but it was not necessary to look in the book for its meaning.
“Mr. Terrill, call all hands—quick!” said Captain Kendall, in sharp tones.
“All hands on deck, ahoy!” roared the boatswain’s mate, as he piped his shrill whistle at the main hatch.
The students flew from their seats at the mess table, deserting the two professors without an apology. With only two exceptions, the officers and crew of the Josephine were all old sailors. Most of them had been on board the ship for two years, and a sudden squall was no new thing to them. They leaped into their stations, and when the orders were given they knew exactly what to do.
“Stand by sheets and halyards!” shouted the first lieutenant. “Man the jib, and flying jib halyards, and downhauls!”
“All ready forward, sir,” reported the second lieutenant, whose place was on the forecastle.
“Man the topgallant clewlines and buntlines!” continued Terrill.
“All ready, sir!”
“Ease off the sheets! Settle away the halyards! Clew up! Lay aloft, and furl topgallant-sail!”
The topgallant men sprang up the rigging like so many cats, for all hands had been thoroughly waked up by the impending peril.
“Let go the flying jib halyard! Haul down! Lay out and stow the flying jib!”
“Man the topsail clewlines and buntlines!”
“All ready, sir,” replied the second lieutenant.
“Let go the topsail sheets! Clew up! Settle away the halyards! Haul taut the braces!”
All this was done in half the time it takes to read it; and the light sails of the Josephine were furled. The main gaff-topsail was taken in, and then the schooner had only her jib, foresail, and mainsail. It was not necessary to take these in until the peril became more imminent; but Paul ordered the foresail to be lowered, and reefed, for the vessel was supposed to lie to best under this sail. The Young America had furled everything except her topsails, jib, and spanker.
Professor Hamblin had not yet recovered from his astonishment, and he was as indignant as a learned Greek scholar could be. Professor Stoute and himself were the only persons left in the steerage; but while the former laughed, the latter stormed.
“I have been insulted, Mr. Stoute,” said the learned gentleman. “That boy has disobeyed me, as though I were a person of no consequence.”
“Why, he was perfectly respectful to you,” laughed the good-natured professor. “You must remember that he is the captain of the ship, and that everything depends upon him.”
“He left the class contrary to my orders; and not satisfied with that, he calls all the rest of the students on deck,” added Mr. Hamblin, wrathfully. “I had not finished the Greek lesson.”
“But there’s a squall coming up,” pleaded Mr. Stoute.
“What if there was a squall coming up. The principal assured me there were hands enough on deck to work the vessel under all ordinary circumstances.”
“But you don’t understand the matter, Mr. Hamblin,” continued the jolly professor.
“Do you mean to insult me too, Mr. Stoute?” demanded the irate fountain-head of Greek literature.
“Certainly not; I beg your pardon, Mr. Hamblin,” replied Mr. Stoute, laughing more heartily than before. “I do not profess to comprehend these nautical affairs; but I presume it was necessary to call all hands, or the captain would not have done so.”
“It was not necessary. I am willing to take the responsibility of that assertion myself, and I shall report this disrespect and disobedience of the captain to Mr. Lowington. If he chooses to sustain the delinquent in such gross misconduct, I will leave the vessel at the first port we enter.”
“Mr. Lowington will certainly do justice to both of you.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Stoute; he must do justice to me. I have been a schoolmaster and a professor in college all my lifetime, and I do not wish to have any one speak of settling a case between me and one of my pupils. There is only one side to such a question,” replied Mr. Hamblin, whose dignity was terribly damaged by the incident of the afternoon.
“Well, Mr. Hamblin, I wish to be respectful; but I also mean to be candid. I feel compelled to say that I believe you are all wrong.”
“All wrong, sir!”
“Yes, sir; all wrong. Look at the question for one moment.”
“I don’t wish to look at it. Between teacher and pupil there can be no issues of any kind. It is my place to command, my scholar’s to obey, in the school-room.”
“Now, really, Mr. Hamblin,” continued the laughing professor, rubbing his hands, as though he enjoyed the controversy, “while I agree with you on the general principle, I must differ from you in its application to this particular case. Your pupil is the commander of the vessel. Our very lives depend upon his prudence and skill. It was necessary to take in sail.”
“Very well. Wasn’t half the crew on deck for that purpose?” interposed Mr. Hamblin.
“But who shall determine whether it is necessary or not to take in sail?”
“The officer who has the care of the vessel for the time being, of course. Then there are Mr. Cleats, and Mr. Gage, and the servants to help them reduce the sails, if needed. There is not the least necessity for disturbing the classes.”
“But no one except the captain can give the order to take in a single sail in the daytime. This vessel is under naval discipline, you are aware; but I think you cannot have read the rules. Here they are,” added Mr. Stoute, taking the printed regulations of the ship from his pocket. “Officer of the Deck. He is not to make or take in sail in the daytime, except in a squall, without directions from the captain; but in the night he may take in sail, acquainting the captain with his reasons, which he must enter on the log.”
“Well, this is a squall—isn’t it?” growled Mr. Hamblin.
“Perhaps it will be; but it seems to me quite