Jo's Boys (Little Women 3)

Demi’s eyes sparkled as Josie held up a paper cocked hat, but as he knew what was probably in it, he took the wind out of Josie’s sails, and filled her with blank astonishment by saying carelessly:

“That’s nothing; it’s only to say whether she will go to the concert with us tomorrow night. You can read it if you like.”

With the natural perversity of her sex Josie ceased to be curious the moment she was told to read it, and meekly handed it over; but she watched Demi as he calmly read the two lines it contained and then threw it into the fire.

“Why, Jack, I thought you’d treasure every scrap the ‘sweetest maid’ touched. Don’t you care for her?”

“Very much; we all do; but ‘mooning and spooning’, as you elegantly express it, is not in my line. My dear little girl, your plays make you romantic, and because Alice and I act lovers sometimes you take it into your silly head that we are really so. Don’t waste time hunting mares’ nests, but attend to your own affairs and leave me to mine. I forgive you, but don’t do it again; it’s bad taste, and tragedy queens don’t romp.”

The last cut finished Josie; she humbly begged pardon and went off to bed, while Demi soon followed, feeling that he had not only settled himself but his too inquisitive little sister also. But if he had seen her face as she listened to the soft wailing of his flute he would not have been so sure, for she looked as cunning as a magpie as she said, with a scornful sniff: “Pooh, you can’t deceive me; I know Dick is serenading Sophy Wackles.”

CHAPTER 11

EMIL’S THANKSGIVING

THE BRENDA was scudding along with all sail set to catch the rising wind, and everyone on board was rejoicing, for the long voyage was drawing towards an end.

“Four weeks more, Mrs Hardy, and we’ll give you a cup of tea such as you never had before,” said second mate Hoffmann, as he paused beside two ladies sitting in a sheltered corner of the deck.

“I shall be glad to get it, and still gladder to put my feet on solid ground,” answered the elder lady, smiling; for our friend Emil was a favourite, as well he might be, since he devoted himself to the captain’s wife and daughter, who were the only passengers on board.

“So shall I, even if I have to wear a pair of shoes like Chinese junks. I’ve tramped up and down the deck so much, I shall be barefooted if we don’t arrive soon,” laughed Mary, the daughter, showing two shabby little boots as she glanced up at the companion of these tramps, remembering gratefully how pleasant he had made them.

“Don’t think there are any small enough in China,” answered Emil, with a sailor’s ready gallantry, privately resolving to hunt up the handsomest shoes he could find the moment he landed.

“I don’t know what you would have done for exercise, dear, if Mr Hoffmann had not made you walk every day. This lazy life is bad for young people, though it suits an old body like me well enough in calm weather. Is this likely to be a gale, think ye?” added Mrs Hardy, with an anxious glance at the west, where the sun was setting redly.

“Only a capful of wind, ma’am, just enough to send us along lively,” answered Emil, with a comprehensive glance aloft and alow.

“Please sing, Mr Hoffmann, it’s so pleasant to have music at this time. We shall miss it very much when we get ashore,” said Mary, in a persuasive tone which would have won melody from a shark, if such a thing were possible.

Emil had often blessed his one accomplishment during these months, for it cheered the long days, and made the twilight hour his happiest time, wind and weather permitting. So now he gladly tuned his pipe, and leaning on the taffrail near the girl, watched the brown locks blowing in the wind as he sang her favourite song:

“Give me freshening breeze, my boys,

A white and swelling sail,

A ship that cuts the dashing waves,

And weathers every gale.

What life is like a sailor’s life,

So free, so bold, so brave?

His home the ocean’s wide expanse,

A coral bed his grave.”

Just as the last notes of the clear, strong voice died away, Mrs Hardy suddenly exclaimed: “What’s that?”

Emil’s quick eye saw at once the little puff of smoke coming up a hatchway where no smoke should be, and his heart seemed to stand still for an instant as the dread word “Fire!” flashed through his mind. Then he was quite steady, and strolled away saying quietly:

“Smoking not allowed there, I’ll go and stop it.” But the instant he was out of sight his face changed, and he leaped down the hatchway, thinking, with a queer smile on his lips: “If we are afire, shouldn’t wonder if I did make a coral bed my grave!”

He was gone a few minutes, and when he came up, half stifled with smoke, he was as white as a very brown man could be, but calm and cool as he went to report to the captain.

“Fire in the hold, sir.”

“Don’t frighten the women,” was Captain Hardy’s first order; then both bestirred themselves to discover how strong the treacherous enemy was, and to rout it if possible.

The Brenda’s cargo was a very combustible one, and in spite of the streams of water poured into the hold it was soon evident that the ship was doomed. Smoke began to ooze up between the planks everywhere, and the rising gale soon fanned the smouldering fire to flames that began to break out here and there, telling the dreadful truth too plainly for anyone to hide. Mrs Hardy and Mary bore the shock bravely when told to be ready to quit the ship at a minute’s notice; the boats were hastily prepared, and the men worked with a will to batten down every loophole whence the fire might escape. Soon the poor Brenda was a floating furnace, and the order to “Take to the boats!” came for all. The women first, of course, and it was fortunate that, being a merchantman, there were no more passengers on board, so there was no panic, and one after the other the boats pushed off. That in which the women were lingered

near, for the brave captain would be the last to leave his ship.

Emil stayed by him till ordered away, and reluctantly obeyed; but it was well for him he went, for just as he had regained the boat, rocking far below, half hidden by a cloud of smoke, a mast, undermined by the fire now raging in the bowels of the ship, fell with a crash, knocking Captain Hardy overboard. The boat soon reached him as he floated out from the wreck, and Emil sprung into the sea to rescue him, for he was wounded and senseless. This accident made it necessary for the young man to take command, and he at once ordered the men to pull for their lives, as an explosion might occur at any moment.

The other boats were out of danger and all lingered to watch the splendid yet awesome spectacle of the burning ship alone on the wide sea, reddening the night and casting a lurid glare upon the water, where floated the frail boats filled with pale faces, all turned for a last look at the fated Brenda, slowly settling to her watery grave. No one saw the end, however, for the gale soon swept the watchers far away and separated them, some never to meet again till the sea gives up its dead.

The boat whose fortunes we must follow was alone when dawn came up, showing these survivors all the dangers of their situation. Food and water had been put in, and such provision for comfort and safety as time allowed; but it was evident that with a badly wounded man, two women, and seven sailors, their supply would not last long, and help was sorely needed. Their only hope was in meeting a ship, although the gale, which had raged all night, had blown them out of their course. To this hope all clung, and wiled away the weary hours, watching the horizon and cheering one another with prophecies of speedy rescue.

Second mate Hoffmann was very brave and helpful, though his unexpected responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders; for the captain’s state seemed desperate, the poor wife’s grief wrung his heart, and the blind confidence of the young girl in his power to save them made him feel that no sign of doubt or fear must lessen it. The men did their part readily now, but Emil knew that if starvation and despair made brutes of them, his task might be a terrible one. So he clutched his courage with both hands, kept up a manly front, and spoke so cheerily of their good chances, that all instinctively turned to him for guidance and support.