Peter Simple. Фредерик Марриет
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“But, O’Brien—” said I.
“Whist—hold your tongue—you’ve not heard the end of it. Well, I had been buried about an hour—but not very deep it appears, for they were in too great a hurry—when a fisherman and his daughter came along the beach, on their way to the boat; and the daughter, God bless her! did me the favour to tread on my nose. It was clear that she had never trod upon an Irishman’s nose before, for it surprised her, and she looked down to see what was there, and not seeing anything, she tried it again with her foot, and then she scraped off the sand, and discovered my pretty face. I was quite warm and still breathing, for the sand had stopped the blood, and prevented my bleeding to death. The fisherman pulled me out and took me on his back to the house where the captain and officers were still dancing. When he brought me in, there was a great cry from the ladies, not because I was murdered, for they are used to it in those countries, but because I was naked, which they considered a much more serious affair. I was put to bed, and a boat despatched on board for our doctor; and in a few hours I was able to speak, and tell them how it happened. But I was too ill to move when the ship sailed, which she was obliged to do in a day or two afterwards, so the captain made out my discharge, and left me there. The family were French, and I remained with them for six months before I could obtain a passage home, during which I learnt their language, and a very fair allowance of Spanish to boot. When I arrived in England, I found that the prizes had been sold, and that the money was ready for distribution. I produced my certificate, and received 167 pounds for my share. So it’s come at last, thought I.
“I had never had such a handful of money in my life. I thought of my mother, and of the cows, and the pig, and the furniture, all gone; and of my brothers and sisters wanting praties, and I made a vow that I’d send every farthing of it to them, after which Father McGrath would no longer think of not giving me absolution. So I sent them every doit, only reserving for myself the pay which I had received, amounting to about 30 pounds: and I never felt more happy in my life than when it was safe in the post-office, and fairly out of my hands. I wrote a bit of a letter to my father at the time, which was to this purpose:—
“ ‘Honoured Father—Since our last pleasant meeting, at which you threw the stool at my head, missing the pigeon and hitting the crow, I have been dead and buried, but am now quite well, thank God, and want no absolution from Father McGrath, bad luck to him. And what’s more to the point, I have just received a batch of prize-money, the first I have handled since I have served His Majesty, and every farthing of which I now send to you, that you may get back your old cows, and the pig, and all the rest of the articles seized to pay for my fitting-out; I’m a true O’Brien, tell my mother, and don’t mane to turn Protestant, but uphold the religion of my country; although the devil may take Father McGrath and his holy water to boot. I sha’n’t come and see you, as perhaps you may have another stool ready for my head, and may take better aim next time. So no more at present from your affectionate son,
“ ‘Terence O’Brien.’
“About three weeks afterwards I received a letter from my father, telling me that I was a real O’Brien, and that if any one dared hint to the contrary, he would break every bone in his body: that they had received the money, and thanked me for a real gentleman as I was; that I should have the best stool in the house next time I came, not for my head, but for my tail; that Father McGrath sent me his blessing, and had given me absolution for all I had done, or should do for the next ten years to come; that my mother had cried with joy at my dutiful behaviour: and that all my brothers and sisters (bating Tim, who had died the day after I left them) wished me good luck, and plenty more prize-money to send home to them.
“This was all very pleasant; and I had nothing left on my mind but to get another ship; so I went to the port-admiral, and told him how it was that I left my last; and he said, that being dead and buried was quite sufficient reason for any one leaving his ship, and that he would procure me another, now that I had come to life again. I was sent on board of the guardship, where I remained about ten days, and then was sent round to join this frigate—and so my story’s ended; and there’s eight bells striking—so the watch is ended too.”
Chapter Fourteen.
The first lieutenant has more patients—Mr. Chucks the boatswain lets me into the secret of his gentility.
Before I proceed with my narrative, I wish to explain to the reader that my history was not written in after-life, when I had obtained a greater knowledge of the world. When I first went to sea, I promised my mother that I would keep a journal of what passed, with my reflections upon it. To this promise I rigidly adhered, and since I have been my own master, these journals have remained in my possession. In writing, therefore, the early part of my adventures, everything is stated as it was impressed on my mind at the time.
We had now been cruising for six weeks, and I found that my profession was much more agreeable than I had anticipated. My desire to please was taken for the deed; and, although I occasionally made a blunder, yet the captain and first lieutenant seemed to think that I was attentive to my duty to the best of my ability, and only smiled at my mistakes.
The first lieutenant was one of the most amusing men I ever knew, yet he never relaxed from the discipline of the service, or took the least liberty with either his superiors or inferiors. His humour was principally shown in his various modes of punishment; and, however severe the punishment was to the party, the manner of inflicting it was invariably a source of amusement to the remainder of the ship’s company. I often thought, that although no individual liked being punished, yet, that all the ship’s company were quite pleased when a punishment took place. He was very particular about his decks; they were always as white as snow, and nothing displeased him so much as their being soiled. It was for that reason that he had such an objection to the use of tobacco. There were spitting-pans placed in different parts of the decks for the use of the men, that they might not dirty the planks with the tobacco juice. Sometimes a man in a hurry forgot to use these pans; but as the mess to which the stain might be opposite had their grog stopped if the party were not found out, they took good care not only to keep a look-out, but to inform against the offender. Now the punishment for the offence was as follows—the man’s hands were tied behind his back, and a large tin spitting-box fixed to his chest by a strap over