doing nothing. Mr. Hargreaves has considered himself a much finer individual than our young friend Mr. Jones, and he has not been over pleasant. Oh yes, it is useless to deny that. I have seen it. We have all seen, and we have wondered how long our studious friend would put up with such treatment. Now he has brought the thing to a head he shall have fair play. Remember, we are Englishmen, and fair play is everything."
The group swung round to find that a passenger of some forty years of age, a gentleman known to be of some importance, and therefore to be duly respected, had suddenly come amongst them. The threatening looks of a few of Hargreaves' partisans at once vanished.
"Fair play, you understand," said the newcomer. "I will not interfere, but I am sure there are some here who will take Mr. Jones's part."
He was right there, for not all aboard the ship were of Hargreaves' way of thinking. There were some of the young men going out to the army or as clerks who secretly or openly admired Owen because of the efforts he was making; and now that they had heard him so candidly acknowledge his former position, and the fact that he had come from a poorhouse, they admired him the more, and came forward to support him at once.
"I'll hold your coat, Jones," said one of them, a young man of nineteen. "By Jove! it was pluckily done. I have often thought it was a shame to treat you so badly, and I think you have shown pluck. Give me your things and I'll look after you."
"Then I am ready," said Owen promptly. "Thank you, Simpson, I shall be glad if you will act as second. Now, Mr. Hargreaves, I am ready to give you satisfaction for the blow I have dealt you."
"And I shall take it to the full," was the surly answer. "If we had been in India I would have called you out with a pistol, I can tell you; but here we shall have to fight it out with fists."
"Either would please me," answered Owen calmly, knowing well that his practice already with pistols under the tuition of the sergeant would act in his favour. Still, he had a horror of bloodshed, and far preferred to have matters as they were. But in those days an insult or an injury meant inevitably a duel.
"Then we will go to the lower deck," said Simpson, leading the way.
The group made their way down the companions to the lower deck, where they found that a number of sailors had already collected. A couple of midshipmen, of the East India service, were also there, and in one corner Owen caught sight of his Mahratta friend.
"I'll bet yer a pound of bacca on the little 'un," growled one of the sailors, as he leaned against a bulkhead. "He'll fight as he works, and blest if he ain't a glutton for work. See 'im a learnin' the lingo from this darkie here, when he might be takin' it easy on deck."
"Done with yer," was the answer. "It'll be a toss up. This is a-goin' ter be a fight."
Evidently others were of the same opinion, for the news had already spread through the ship, and while those in authority purposely kept out of the way, others, whose official duties could not interfere, found their way to the lower deck to watch the encounter. For Hargreaves had given umbrage all round. His high-handedness, his want of respect for men older than himself, and his treatment of Owen Jones, had won him many enemies. They came, therefore, hoping to see him worsted, but fearing the reverse.
"I'll give you a chance to take back what you have said and apologise for the blow," said Hargreaves, as, divested of his coat and neckerchief, and with sleeves rolled to the elbow, he entered the circle formed between the supporting bulkheads.
Owen hardly deigned to reply. After his long practice with the sergeant he felt the greatest confidence in himself, and was not afraid of the superior weight or height of his antagonist. But there was more reason than that why he should fight. He was never a quarrelsome fellow, and this trouble had been forced upon him. If he were to back out now the tale of his having been a pauper would hang to him all his life, and Hargreaves and his friends would have occasion for many a sneer. No, it was essentially a time for blows. As his opponent spoke Owen walked calmly into the centre of the square and rolled his sleeves to a nicety. Then he put up his fists in a manner which showed that it was not for the first time, and faced his antagonist.
"It is your quarrel," he said quietly, "and I am the one who has suffered. We will fight, if you please."
"Bravo, bravo, young 'un!" shouted one of the sailors in the background.
"Then look to yourself," cried Hargreaves, as he swung his fists. "I'll show you whether a youngster from the poorhouse can do as he likes aboard ship."
He came at our hero warily, for there was something about the latter's attitude which spoke of good training in the art of self-defence. Then, as Owen did nothing more than keep him at a distance, he mistook his caution for fear and temerity. He rushed in with big swinging blows, only to retire with stars flashing before his eyes, and a severely cut lip. After that he lost his temper, and for a time Owen had his hands very full. Twice he was caught by a rush and knocked to the ground. But he was on his feet in a moment, facing Hargreaves. When four rounds had been fought the latter was almost exhausted, while his younger and more active antagonist was comparatively fresh.
"You have him now," said Simpson, as Owen sat at his corner waiting for the call of time. "Go in and win this time. Give him a good beating, and you will never need to fear trouble from any one again."
Our hero followed the instructions to the letter. Hitherto he had allowed his opponent to prance round him, and had only struck when he was sure of being able to reach his antagonist. But now he closed with him, and for a minute beat him round and round the circle, getting in beneath his guard and finally sending him with a crash amidst the audience.
"Time!" shouted Simpson. "Dandy, is your man beaten? Does he give in?"
There was a sulky nod from the other side, and then a roar of cheering which could be heard on the upper deck. Owen rose from his seat, wiped his face with a towel, and went across to his enemy.
"We have had a fair fight and I have won," he said in friendly tones. "You did not understand me before, and perhaps I did not like you. Let this settle our differences, and be friends."
There was another shout at that, while Hargreaves lifted his head and smiled. At heart he was a very good fellow, and he was man enough to own that he was beaten.
"I behaved badly, Jones," he said, "and you have beaten me handsomely for my treatment of you. I apologise for what I have done, and I will gladly be friends."
They shook hands, and then went off to their cabins to clean themselves and remove all traces of the combat. And that evening Owen once more took up his Hindustani, as if nothing out of the way had occurred. But he had made his place in the ship and amongst his comrades, and the tale of his prowess and of his pluck was bound to reach India and there act in his favour. More than that, an inkling of his history, of the mystery hanging about his birth, of his friend, the powerful director of the Company, leaked out, and the discussion which followed raised him vastly in the estimation of all on board. They found it a fine thing to follow his example, and that week quite a number set themselves to make the most of their opportunities and to learn the language. However, they had very little time before them, for within a few days the even tenor of the voyage was rudely upset, and the passengers and crew found themselves face to face with a difficulty and danger which none had foreseen.
CHAPTER IV
A Hunting Expedition
"Great guns!" shouted Simpson in Owen's ear, as they clung to the rail on the poop of the huge East Indiaman, and faced the gale. "And how suddenly it came on!"
"We are lucky to have an experienced captain," shouted back our
