"Martain Rattler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Ballantyne R.M)

Barney, looking with an expression of deep sympathy at the poor boy who lay
staring before him quite speechless. "The capting'll not let you out o' this
ship till ye git to the Gould Coast, or some sich place. He couldn't turn back
av he wanted iver so much; but he doesn't want to, for he needs a smart lad like
you an' he'll keep you now, for sartin."
Barney sat down by Martin's side and stroked his fair curls, as he sought in his
own quaint fashion to console him. But in vain. Martin grew quite desperate as
he thought of the misery into which poor Aunt Dorothy Grumbit would be plunged
on learning that he had been swept out to sea in a little boat, and drowned, as
she would naturally suppose. In his frenzy he entreated and implored the captain
to send him back in the boat and even threatened to knock out his brains with a
hand- spike if he did not; but the captain smiled, and told him that it was his
own fault. He had no business to be putting to sea in a small boat in rough
weather; and he might be thankful he wasn't drowned. He wouldn't turn back now
for fifty pounds twice told:
At length Martin became convinced that all hope of returning home was gone. He
went quietly below, threw himself into one of the sailor's berths, turned his
face to the wall, and wept long and bitterly.
[CONTENTS]



CHAPTER VI
The voyage - A pirate, chase, wreck, and escape
TIME reconciles a man almost to anything. In the course of time Martin Rattler
became reconciled to his fate, and went about the ordinary duties of a cabin-boy
on board the Firef1y just as if he had been appointed to that office in the
ordinary way - with the consent of the owners and by the advice of his friends.
The captain, Skinflint by name, and as surly an old fellow as ever walked a
quarter-deck, agreed to pay him wages "if he behaved well". The steward, under
whose immediate authority he was placed, turned out to be a hearty,
good-natured. young fellow, and was very kind to him. But Martin's great friend
was Barney O'Flannagan., the cook, with whom he spent many an hour in the night
watches, talking over plans, and prospects, and retrospects, and foreign lands.
As Martin had no clothes except those on his back, which fortunately happened to
be new and good, Barney gave him a couple of blue striped shirts, and made him a
jacket, pantaloons, and slippers of canvas; and, what was of much greater
importance, taught him how to make and mend the same for himself.
"Ye see, Martin, lad," he said, while thus employed one day, many weeks after
leaving port, "it's a great thing, intirely, to be able to help yerseif. For my
part, I niver travel without my work-box in my pocket."
"Your work-box!" said Martin, laughing.
"Jist so. An' it consists of wan sail-maker's needle, a ball o' twine, and a
clasp-knife. Set me down with these before a roll o' canvas and I'll make ye
a'most anything."
"You seem to have a turn for everything, Barney," said Martin. "How came you to
be a cook?"
"That's more nor I can tell ye, lad. As far as I remimber, I began with
murphies, when I was two foot high, in my father's cabin in ould Ireland. But
that was on my own account intirely, and not as a purfession; and a sorrowful