WHO WAS CAPTAIN OF THE JOSEPHINE?

Mr. Hamblin, as before intimated, did not sleep well on the night in question.  The burden of being called to the state department, and even to the royal palaces of Belgium, was very trying to his nerves.  When he slept, it was only to dream of the great statesman and revolutionary leader of the Low Countries, in the act of taking him by the hand or of presenting him to his majesty Leopold, “Roi de Belge.”

He prepared himself with great care, in his reflections, for the stupendous occasion.  He studied up courtly bows, and imagined just how he would look when in the act of making one of them.  He pictured to himself various graceful gestures which he intended to use, in order to impress upon the great man the dignity of his character.  He arranged the little tableau of his presentation to the king, with all the speeches, interludes, and movements.  If the king said certain things, he should say certain other things in reply; and when the interview ended, he was with becoming grace to back out of the royal presence.

Leopold, “Roi de Belge,” would probably inform him that he had, either directly or through his faithful minister, heard of the distinguished Greek savant; that he had seen or heard of the Greek Grammar he had published, the Greek Reader he had compiled, and the Anabasis he had edited and annotated.  It was more than probable that there were copies of these learned and valuable works in the Royal Library; for no library could be complete without them.  If they were there, the king would graciously inform him of the fact, as the highest compliment that could be paid to his fame as a Greek scholar.  To all this, with his left hand upon his heart, with his right extended, palm prone, at an angle of forty-five degrees with his perpendicular, his body bent in a courteous but dignified bow, he was to reply that his majesty did him too much honor.  It would be necessary to deprecate, in some degree, the distinguished consideration awarded to him, and to declare his own unworthiness of the king’s notice and favor.

Then, perhaps, the royal Leopold would present him a snuff-box, studded with pearls, diamonds, and rubies,-monarchs have a habit of presenting snuffboxes to men who do not take snuff,-in token of his princely appreciation of the learning of the distinguished American professor.  Or, perhaps, “Le Roi de Belge” would inform him that he desired to promote the study of the Greek language and literature in his kingdom, and that he was graciously pleased to appoint him Inspector of Greek, or Librarian of the Greek portion of the Royal Library, with no active duty but that of collecting his salary of twenty thousand francs-liberal princes, as rich as Leopold was reputed to be, often spent their money more foolishly than this, in rewarding distinguished men of learning.

The learned gentleman did not feel a very strong confidence that the king would thus reward his forty years’ patient study of the Greek; but if he should conclude to behave in this rather erratic but highly honorable manner, it would give him a pleasant opportunity of waiting upon Mr. Lowington in his cabin, and politely informing him that he could no longer endure the insults of the Josephines, or countenance their want of appreciation of the privilege of having such a professor of Greek as he was; and that he felt compelled to resign his present position, in order that “Le Roi de Belge” might avail himself of his valuable services.

It would be delightful to make such a call upon the principal of the academy squadron.  It would be a grand occasion for a display of dignity.  He did not feel that such a pleasant event was likely to occur; but it was not impossible.  The fame of his Grammar and other works might have come over the Atlantic while he was transplanting Greek roots in the hard heads of stupid boys.  He felt that he deserved some higher token of public appreciation than had yet been bestowed upon him.  Why should the Secretary of Foreign Affairs send an autograph letter to him, unless some especial notice was to be taken of him?

An audible voice seemed to say, “Go up higher, friend;” but, alas! that was only the snoring of Professor Stoute, in the berth above him, which his fancy had incorporated into words.  There was no voice-only the guttural sounds of his obese room-mate, who was so tired that he breathed with unwonted labor in his sleep.  There was no poetry in the snoring of his companion, and the vision was rudely dissolved by the reality.  But the invitation to go to court was in his pocket:  he could not be cheated out of that, or of his brilliant expectations.  Leopold might do the handsome thing, at least as to the snuff-box.  It was rather awkward, in view of the approaching interview, that he could not speak French; but the king had lived in London for a time, and doubtless spoke English fluently.  Of course the Minister of Foreign Affairs could speak English; but even if he did not, they could meet on the same level in Latin or Greek.

Professor Hamblin did not sleep very well; and he did not sleep any better because Mr. Stoute slept so well, and made the state-room sonorous with the richest base snoring that ever tormented a nervous man.  Indeed, the heavy sleeper made it so lively for the light sleeper that the latter was two or three times goaded to the alternative of waking the former, or abandoning the room.

In the course of the night the learned professor had polished up all his little speeches to be recited before the minister, and probably before the king; had nicely adjusted all his bows and gestures, and laid up a magazine of expedients for possible emergencies, such as the presence of the Duke of Brabant, Prince Leopold, and even of “La Reine de Belge;” but the dreamer was glad when the morning came; for the night had been very long, though he had probably slept three quarters of the time; gladder still when he heard the water splashing on the deck above him, as the watch washed down the quarter-deck, for now he could get up.  He did get up, and went out to taste the freshness of the early air.

The young seamen had finished their labor on the quarters, and were at work in the waist.  A kind of force-pump, or fire-engine, was attached to the Josephine, to save labor in washing down the decks, and to be used in case of fire below.  It was provided with a sufficient length of hose to reach all parts of the vessel, and was worked by a single brake, manned by four hands.  With this apparatus the boys were deluging the decks with water, one of them holding the pipe, and half a dozen scrubbing the planks with long-handled brushes.

A fire-engine, or indeed anything that will squirt, is a great luxury to the boys, with whom “running with the machine” is a constitutional tendency.  The novelty of the Josephine’s force-pump had not yet worn away, and it contributed in no small degree to alleviate the hard and ungentlemanly labor of washing down decks.

Mr. Hamblin was not a boy, and he had a constitutional dislike of fire-engines and all hydraulic apparatus, partly, perhaps, because the boys liked it.  The quarter-deck was still wet with the drenching it had received, and the professor did not like to dampen his feet on the one hand, or retreat to the close cabin on the other.  He did what Americans are very apt to do when situated between the two horns of a dilemma-he compromised between the difficulties by seating himself on the fife-rail between a couple of belaying-pins.  He was careful to place himself abaft the mainmast, so that the wicked engine would not spatter him.

He sat on the fife-rail and began to think of the king and the minister again; but his reflections this time were very brief, and if his fancy burned again with glowing anticipation, the flame was suddenly quenched by a stream of water directed at the foot of the mast, which spattered his lower extremities very badly.

“What are you about, you rascal?” roared the learned gentleman, springing from his perch to the deck.

But it would have been better for him to remain where he was, for the instant his feet struck the deck, the full force of the stream from the hose-pipe saluted him squarely in the face, filling his mouth with water, and well nigh overthrowing him with its violence.  This was a sad accident.  McDougal, one of the quartermasters, held the pipe.  At the moment the professor sprang from the fife-rail, the hoseman was looking behind him, his attention having been called away from his work by a remark of one of the hands at the brake.

“What do you mean, you rascal?” sputtered Mr. Hamblin, attempting to free his mouth of the dirty Scheldt water which had been forced into it.

“That’s number three,” whispered one of the brake-men to another.

“Hush up!” replied the one addressed, from the corner of his mouth.

McDougal dropped the hose, and rushed aft to the place where the unhappy savant stood.

“You impertinent puppy!” cried Mr. Hamblin, soiling his white handkerchief with the foul water upon his face.

“O, dear!  What have I done!” groaned McDougal, clasping his hands in an agony of dismay.  “I beg your pardon!  I didn’t see you, sir.  O, what have I done!” And the wretched hoseman actually threw himself on his knees upon the wet deck, and implored the forgiveness of the injured magnate of the school-room.

“You meant to do it!” exclaimed the implacable pedagogue.

“No, sir!  Indeed, I did not!  Won’t you forgive me?” pleaded McDougal, still upon his knees.

“What does all this mean?” demanded Pelham, who was officer of the deck, as he rushed to the spot from the topgallant forecastle, where he had gone to keep out of the way of the splashing waters.

“O, Mr. Pelham,” groaned the hoseman, “I am so sorry!”

“Get up!” said Pelham to the culprit, sternly, for anything like servility was very disgusting to him, and probably he had his own views in regard to Mr. Hamblin.

McDougal obeyed this imperative command, and though, ordinarily, a young man of nerve and of much self-possession, he appeared to be trembling with apprehension.  His lips quivered, his knees smote against each other, and he stood wringing his hands, apparently in the most abject terror.

“I didn’t mean to do it, Mr. Pelham,” chattered the miserable hoseman.

“Mr. Pelham, in my opinion this act was deliberately contrived and carried out,” said Mr. Hamblin, severely, though he was evidently somewhat moved by the misery of the culprit.

“I am very sorry for it, sir, whether it was done on purpose or by accident,” replied Pelham.  “Where were you, sir, when it happened?”

“I was sitting on that frame,” answered Mr. Hamblin, pointing to the place.

“On the fife-rail?”

“Yes; if that is the name of the frame.”

“Yes, sir; and he was behind the mast, and I didn’t see him,” pleaded McDougal.  “I saw some dirt on deck at the foot of the mast, and I threw the stream there.  I couldn’t see Mr. Hamblin-indeed I couldn’t, sir.”

“I would not complain of the act if that had been all, for I was simply spattered; but when I stepped down, the stream was directed full into my face.”

“I didn’t mean to do it, sir.  One of the brake-men hollered to me, and I turned to see what he wanted, and when I did so, I raised up the hose; and I suppose that’s what made the stream hit Mr. Hamblin in the face,” groaned McDougal.

“Yes, sir,” interposed the brakeman, who had designated the act as “number three.”  “I saw Mr. Hamblin, and I sung out to McDougal to turn the hose.  He turned round and asked me what I said, and before I could answer Mr. Hamblin cried out to him.”

“So far as I can see, it appears to be an accident, sir,” added Pelham; “but I will report it to the captain.”

“O, Mr. Pelham, don’t report me to the captain!” begged McDougal.  “He will send me back to the ship.  I didn’t mean to do it; it was an accident.”

“It is useless to report it to the captain,” said the professor, with a palpable sneer.

“Thank you, sir; you will forgive me, sir?” moaned the culprit.

“I am willing to forgive you if it was an accident,” replied the savant, more graciously.

“It was an accident, sir.”

“It is very singular that so many accidents happen to me,” said the professor, knitting his brow, and looking very savage, when he recalled the events of the preceding evening.  “This is the third time within half a day that an accident has occurred to me.”

Mr. Hamblin walked off, and descended to the cabin to change his clothes again.  The suit in which he had fallen overboard had been dried at the cook’s galley, and was in condition for use.  While changing his garments, he recited to Mr. Stoute the new misfortune that had overtaken him.

Pelham sharply questioned the hands who had been concerned in the outrage; but McDougal, who appeared to be the only one implicated in the deed, protested that the circumstances were just as he had stated them; nothing could be proved, for the boys all agreed in their statements.  The case was therefore dismissed, to be called up again by the captain, if he thought proper to do so.  McDougal walked forward to pick up the hose-pipe again, and as he met the brakeman who had exhibited some intelligence before, he gave him a very sly wink.

The officer of the watch was more than suspicious.  He was an old hand at mischief himself, and not easily hoodwinked by “our fellows.”  He could not help thinking that McDougal had overdone his part, for a bold young man, like him, would not behave so much like a coward under any circumstances.  Just before breakfast time the captain and first lieutenant came on deck together, and Pelham reported “number three” to them.

“It was not an accident,” exclaimed Paul, indignantly.

“I don’t think it was myself,” replied Pelham.  “But at the same time, what can you do?  You can’t prove that it was done on purpose.”

“I had a hint from Duncan that the fellows intended to haze Mr. Hamblin, and if this thing isn’t stopped in the beginning, there is no knowing where it will end,” continued Paul, decidedly.  “You will pipe to muster the first thing after breakfast, Mr. Terrill.”

The young commander was entirely satisfied in his own mind that the unpleasant incident of the morning was a part of the hazing programme, if the two on the preceding evening were not.  He had already decided to take prompt action, and put a stop to the disgraceful proceedings.

After breakfast, agreeably to the order, all hands were piped to muster.  The two professors had come on deck to ascertain the cause of this movement.  They had had a long talk together about the second drenching of the senior, and Mr. Stoute was obliged to conclude that the deed had been wilfully done.  He acknowledged as much as this, and felt, as the captain did, that prompt action was necessary; but to his surprise, Mr. Hamblin took opposite ground towards the latter part of the interview, and declared that McDougal, on his knees, had begged his pardon.  The learned gentleman appeared to be determined to keep his opinion at variance with that of his associate.

Mr. Hamblin was one of those old fogies who could not appreciate manliness in a boy.  He demanded abject servility and pusillanimous crouching on the part of an offender.  When he frowned, the boy ought to wither with fear rather than with the consciousness of guilt.  McDougal had thrown himself into a becoming attitude, in his estimation; had groaned, trembled, and cringed.  He was willing to forgive McDougal, and had intimated as much as this to him before he left the deck.

The young commander took his place on the hatch, and made quite a telling speech in regard to what he termed the disgraceful proceeding which had occurred on board.  He solemnly warned the boys that he would not tolerate anything irregular and disorderly.

“Mr. Terrill, you will pipe away the second cutters,” he continued, turning to the first lieutenant.

The crew of the boat were piped away, the cutter lowered, and they took their places in her.  The second lieutenant was detailed to take charge of her, and waited near the captain for his orders.

“Pass the word for McDougal,” added the captain, when the second cutter was ready, as he stepped down from the hatch, and stood at the foot of the mainmast.

The culprit came forward, and touched his cap to the captain.

“For your conduct this morning to Mr. Hamblin I shall send you on board of the ship,” said Paul, in firm and decided tones.

“I couldn’t help it, Captain Kendall,” pleaded McDougal; but he exhibited none of the servility which had characterized his demeanor to the professor; he knew the captain too well to resort to such an expedient.

“Perhaps you could not,” replied Paul, pointedly. “Perhaps you could not; but you were very careless.”

“I didn’t mean to do it,” added McDougal.

“I do not say that you did.  If the professor cannot walk the deck without being drenched with water, it is time those who are so careless should be sent out of the Josephine.”

“Mr. Hamblin was behind the mast, and I thought he had gone below, sir.”

“I have no time nor inclination to argue the matter.  If you think any injustice has been done to you, the principal will hear your complaint, and I shall be as willing as you are to abide by his decision.  Mr. Martyn, you will report the case as it is to Mr. Lowington.  McDougal, consider yourself under arrest, and take your place in the boat.”

The culprit wanted to say something more, but Paul ordered him into the boat with an emphasis which he did not deem it prudent to disregard.

“Captain Kendall,” said Professor Hamblin, stepping up to the young commander, “I request that you will detain that boat for a moment or two.”

“Certainly, sir, if you desire it,” replied Paul, giving the necessary order.

“May I ask for a few moments’ private conversation with you?” added the professor, as he led the way aft.

The learned gentleman seemed to be considerably excited, and conducted the captain to the taffrail.

“I protest against your action in this matter,” said he, warmly, when they were out of hearing of others.

“Indeed, sir!  I supposed you would protest if I did not take decided action.”

“I am sorry to feel obliged to say, that you do not use good judgment in this case,” continued Mr. Hamblin, solemnly.  “When that rope was thrown upon me, you took no notice of it.  I do not hear that the crew of the first cutter have been called to account for their carelessness in throwing me into the water last night; but, in this instance, where the guilty party has begged my pardon on his bended knees, and shown a degree of sorrow which it would be inhuman to disregard, you resort to the severest punishment known on board.”

“You will excuse me, Mr. Hamblin, but I think my action is fully justified by the circumstances.”

“I think not.  You are extremely severe in this case, while the more flagrant act of throwing me into the river, whether it was a wilful or a careless one, was passed over in silence.”

“It was not passed over in silence.  I examined the officer of the boat, and I found that the accident was caused by the breaking of a boat-hook in the hands of one of the bowmen.  If you will pardon me for being entirely candid with you, Mr. Hamblin, the mishap was caused by your own carelessness, rather than by that of the boat’s crew.”

“Do you mean to insult me?” demand the professor, angrily.

“Most assuredly not, sir.  If you had kept your seat in the stern-sheets of the boat, as a passenger should, until the cutter was properly secured, you could not possibly have fallen overboard when the boat-hook broke,” answered Paul, gently and firmly.

“I do not ask your judgment upon my actions, Mr. Kendall,” growled the professor.

“Excuse me, sir; but I alluded to your movement only in defence of the boat’s crew.  If the bowmen had actually intended to throw you into the water, they could not have done it if you had kept your seat.”

“It is not proper for you to criticise my action.”

Paul bowed, and made no reply.

“I protest against your action in punishing McDougal.  He apologized to my satisfaction; and, as this is an affair personal with me, I am surprised at your taking any step without consulting me.”

“It is a case which affects the discipline of the vessel; and, as such, it was proper that I should dispose of it.”

“It was a personal matter, I say,” repeated the professor, growing more wrathy when he found his mighty will opposed.

“I have such information, sir, as leads me to believe that the act of this morning was intentional.”

“That’s a want of judgment on your part, and I protest against your action.  I object to your sending McDougal to the ship, and I demand that your order be rescinded.”

“I shall send him to the ship, sir!” replied Paul, decidedly, his cheek coloring.

“Shall you!  Do you mean to insult me?”

“No, sir; I repeat that I do not mean to insult you.”

“I say that boy ought not to be sent to the ship.  Why, such a lack of judgment-”

“Mr. Hamblin, I command this vessel!” exclaimed Paul, with native dignity.

“Do you, indeed?”

“I am responsible for all I do to Mr. Lowington.  You will oblige me by not interfering with the discipline of the crew.”

“How dare you use such language to me?” snapped the professor, dancing about the deck with rage.

“Mr. Terrill, direct Mr. Martyn to pull to the ship, and execute my order as I gave it.”

“This is infamous!” stormed Mr. Hamblin.  “Am I to be snubbed by a boy, by one of my own pupils?”

“I have nothing more to say, Mr. Hamblin,” continued Paul, bowing and moving away.

“Stop, you puppy!” roared Mr. Hamblin, following him, and speaking loud enough for all the officers to hear his offensive remark.

“Come, come, Mr. Hamblin, you are disgracing yourself,” interposed Mr. Stoute.

“The puppy!” gasped Mr. Hamblin.  “He insulted me!”

“Don’t lower yourself in the eyes of your pupils by such undignified conduct.”

“Am I to be insulted by a boy?” replied Mr. Hamblin, breaking away from his associate.

“Mr. Terrill, send Mr. Cleats and Mr. Gage aft,” said Captain Kendall, hardly able to speak, so violent were his emotions.

“Mr. Kendall-”

“Captain Kendall, if you please,” interposed Paul, as the professor, boiling over with rage, rushed up to him.

“Mister Kendall, I will-”

“One word, Mr. Hamblin, before you proceed any farther,” continued Paul, struggling to be calm.

“Here, sir,” reported the adult carpenter and boatswain.

“Stand by; I may want you,” replied Captain Kendall.  “Mr. Hamblin,” he proceeded, turning to the furious professor, “if you venture to call me a puppy again, or to use any other offensive epithet, I will order the carpenter and boatswain to arrest you.  I will send you in irons on board the ship.  I beg to remind you again that I am the captain of this vessel.”

Mr. Hamblin glanced at him, and then at the stalwart forward officers, who, he knew, would obey the captain if the Josephine went down with them in the act.  If he did not feel that he had done wrong, he felt that he could do nothing more.  Professor Stoute again interposed his good offices, and Mr. Hamblin defeated-by himself rather than the captain-bolted from the group, and rushed down into the cabin.

The entire ship’s company had crowded aft to witness this exciting scene.

“Three cheers for Captain Kendall!” shouted a daring fellow.  “One!”

They were given, in spite of Paul’s cry for “silence,” and then the crew scattered.  The young commander looked very pale, and went below attended by Terrill, who had noticed his ghastly expression.  He retired to his state-room, and but for his friend’s efforts would have fainted away, so terribly had he suffered during the painful scene.