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<h2> CHAPTER VIII </h2>
<h3> THE ROUND-HOUSE </h3>
<p>One night, about eleven o'clock, a man of Mr. Riach's watch (which was on
deck) came below for his jacket; and instantly there began to go a whisper
about the forecastle that "Shuan had done for him at last." There was no
need of a name; we all knew who was meant; but we had scarce time to get
the idea rightly in our heads, far less to speak of it, when the scuttle
was again flung open, and Captain Hoseason came down the ladder. He looked
sharply round the bunks in the tossing light of the lantern; and then,
walking straight up to me, he addressed me, to my surprise, in tones of
kindness.</p>
<p>"My man," said he, "we want ye to serve in the round-house. You and
Ransome are to change berths. Run away aft with ye."</p>
<p>Even as he spoke, two seamen appeared in the scuttle, carrying Ransome in
their arms; and the ship at that moment giving a great sheer into the sea,
and the lantern swinging, the light fell direct on the boy's face. It was
as white as wax, and had a look upon it like a dreadful smile. The blood
in me ran cold, and I drew in my breath as if I had been struck.</p>
<p>"Run away aft; run away aft with ye!" cried Hoseason.</p>
<p>And at that I brushed by the sailors and the boy (who neither spoke nor
moved), and ran up the ladder on deck.</p>
<p>The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting swell.
She was on the starboard tack, and on the left hand, under the arched foot
of the foresail, I could see the sunset still quite bright. This, at such
an hour of the night, surprised me greatly; but I was too ignorant to draw
the true conclusion—that we were going north-about round Scotland,
and were now on the high sea between the Orkney and Shetland Islands,
having avoided the dangerous currents of the Pentland Firth. For my part,
who had been so long shut in the dark and knew nothing of head-winds, I
thought we might be half-way or more across the Atlantic. And indeed
(beyond that I wondered a little at the lateness of the sunset light) I
gave no heed to it, and pushed on across the decks, running between the
seas, catching at ropes, and only saved from going overboard by one of the
hands on deck, who had been always kind to me.</p>
<p>The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and
serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of
the brig, was of good dimensions. Inside were a fixed table and bench, and
two berths, one for the captain and the other for the two mates, turn and
turn about. It was all fitted with lockers from top to bottom, so as to
stow away the officers' belongings and a part of the ship's stores; there
was a second store-room underneath, which you entered by a hatchway in the
middle of the deck; indeed, all the best of the meat and drink and the
whole of the powder were collected in this place; and all the firearms,
except the two pieces of brass ordnance, were set in a rack in the
aftermost wall of the round-house. The most of the cutlasses were in
another place.</p>
<p>A small window with a shutter on each side, and a skylight in the roof,
gave it light by day; and after dark there was a lamp always burning. It
was burning when I entered, not brightly, but enough to show Mr. Shuan
sitting at the table, with the brandy bottle and a tin pannikin in front
of him. He was a tall man, strongly made and very black; and he stared
before him on the table like one stupid.</p>
<p>He took no notice of my coming in; nor did he move when the captain
followed and leant on the berth beside me, looking darkly at the mate. I
stood in great fear of Hoseason, and had my reasons for it; but something
told me I need not be afraid of him just then; and I whispered in his ear:
"How is he?" He shook his head like one that does not know and does not
wish to think, and his face was very stern.</p>
<p>Presently Mr. Riach came in. He gave the captain a glance that meant the
boy was dead as plain as speaking, and took his place like the rest of us;
so that we all three stood without a word, staring down at Mr. Shuan, and
Mr. Shuan (on his side) sat without a word, looking hard upon the table.</p>
<p>All of a sudden he put out his hand to take the bottle; and at that Mr.
Riach started forward and caught it away from him, rather by surprise than
violence, crying out, with an oath, that there had been too much of this
work altogether, and that a judgment would fall upon the ship. And as he
spoke (the weather sliding-doors standing open) he tossed the bottle into
the sea.</p>
<p>Mr. Shuan was on his feet in a trice; he still looked dazed, but he meant
murder, ay, and would have done it, for the second time that night, had
not the captain stepped in between him and his victim.</p>
<p>"Sit down!" roars the captain. "Ye sot and swine, do ye know what ye've
done? Ye've murdered the boy!"</p>
<p>Mr. Shuan seemed to understand; for he sat down again, and put up his hand
to his brow.</p>
<p>"Well," he said, "he brought me a dirty pannikin!"</p>
<p>At that word, the captain and I and Mr. Riach all looked at each other for
a second with a kind of frightened look; and then Hoseason walked up to
his chief officer, took him by the shoulder, led him across to his bunk,
and bade him lie down and go to sleep, as you might speak to a bad child.
The murderer cried a little, but he took off his sea-boots and obeyed.</p>
<p>"Ah!" cried Mr. Riach, with a dreadful voice, "ye should have interfered
long syne. It's too late now."</p>
<p>"Mr. Riach," said the captain, "this night's work must never be kennt in
Dysart. The boy went overboard, sir; that's what the story is; and I would
give five pounds out of my pocket it was true!" He turned to the table.
"What made ye throw the good bottle away?" he added. "There was nae sense
in that, sir. Here, David, draw me another. They're in the bottom locker;"
and he tossed me a key. "Ye'll need a glass yourself, sir," he added to
Riach. "Yon was an ugly thing to see."</p>
<p>So the pair sat down and hob-a-nobbed; and while they did so, the
murderer, who had been lying and whimpering in his berth, raised himself
upon his elbow and looked at them and at me.</p>
<p>That was the first night of my new duties; and in the course of the next
day I had got well into the run of them. I had to serve at the meals,
which the captain took at regular hours, sitting down with the officer who
was off duty; all the day through I would be running with a dram to one or
other of my three masters; and at night I slept on a blanket thrown on the
deck boards at the aftermost end of the round-house, and right in the
draught of the two doors. It was a hard and a cold bed; nor was I suffered
to sleep without interruption; for some one would be always coming in from
deck to get a dram, and when a fresh watch was to be set, two and
sometimes all three would sit down and brew a bowl together. How they kept
their health, I know not, any more than how I kept my own.</p>
<p>And yet in other ways it was an easy service. There was no cloth to lay;
the meals were either of oatmeal porridge or salt junk, except twice a
week, when there was duff: and though I was clumsy enough and (not being
firm on my sealegs) sometimes fell with what I was bringing them, both Mr.
Riach and the captain were singularly patient. I could not but fancy they
were making up lee-way with their consciences, and that they would scarce
have been so good with me if they had not been worse with Ransome.</p>
<p>As for Mr. Shuan, the drink or his crime, or the two together, had
certainly troubled his mind. I cannot say I ever saw him in his proper
wits. He never grew used to my being there, stared at me continually
(sometimes, I could have thought, with terror), and more than once drew
back from my hand when I was serving him. I was pretty sure from the first
that he had no clear mind of what he had done, and on my second day in the
round-house I had the proof of it. We were alone, and he had been staring
at me a long time, when all at once, up he got, as pale as death, and came
close up to me, to my great terror. But I had no cause to be afraid of
him.</p>
<p>"You were not here before?" he asked.</p>
<p>"No, sir," said I."</p>
<p>"There was another boy?" he asked again; and when I had answered him,
"Ah!" says he, "I thought that," and went and sat down, without another
word, except to call for brandy.</p>
<p>You may think it strange, but for all the horror I had, I was still sorry
for him. He was a married man, with a wife in Leith; but whether or no he
had a family, I have now forgotten; I hope not.</p>
<p>Altogether it was no very hard life for the time it lasted, which (as you
are to hear) was not long. I was as well fed as the best of them; even
their pickles, which were the great dainty, I was allowed my share of; and
had I liked I might have been drunk from morning to night, like Mr. Shuan.
I had company, too, and good company of its sort. Mr. Riach, who had been
to the college, spoke to me like a friend when he was not sulking, and
told me many curious things, and some that were informing; and even the
captain, though he kept me at the stick's end the most part of the time,
would sometimes unbuckle a bit, and tell me of the fine countries he had
visited.</p>
<p>The shadow of poor Ransome, to be sure, lay on all four of us, and on me
and Mr. Shuan in particular, most heavily. And then I had another trouble
of my own. Here I was, doing dirty work for three men that I looked down
upon, and one of whom, at least, should have hung upon a gallows; that was
for the present; and as for the future, I could only see myself slaving
alongside of negroes in the tobacco fields. Mr. Riach, perhaps from
caution, would never suffer me to say another word about my story; the
captain, whom I tried to approach, rebuffed me like a dog and would not
hear a word; and as the days came and went, my heart sank lower and lower,
till I was even glad of the work which kept me from thinking.</p>
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