Brave Old Salt; or, Life on the Quarter Deck: A Story of the Great Rebellion Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  SOMERS COMES TO HIS SENSES.

  When Somers opened his eyes, about half an hour after the striking eventjust narrated, and became conscious that he was still in the land of theliving, he was lying on the bed in his chamber at the Continental. Byhis side stood Lieutenant Pillgrim and a surgeon.

  "Where am I?" asked the young officer, using the original expressionmade and provided for occasions of this kind.

  "You are here, my dear fellow," replied the lieutenant.

  This valuable information seemed to afford the injured party a greatdeal of consolation, for he looked around the apartment, not wildly, ashe would have done if this book were a novel, but with a look ofperplexity and dissatisfaction. As Mr. Ensign Somers was eminently afighting man on all proper occasions, he probably felt displeased withhimself to think he had given the stalwart seaman so easy a victory; forhe distinctly remembered the affair in which he had been so rudelytreated, though there was a great gulf between the past and the presentin his recollection.

  "How do you feel, Mr. Somers?" asked the surgeon.

  "The fact that I feel at all is quite enough for me at the present time,without going into the question as to how I feel," replied the patient,with a sickly smile. "I don't exactly know how I do feel. My ideas arerather confused."

  "I should think they might be," added the surgeon. "You have had a hardrap on the head."

  "So I should judge, for my brain is rather muddled."

  "Does your head pain you?" asked the medical gentleman, placing his handon the injured part.

  "It does not exactly pain me, but it feels rather sore. I think I willget up, and see how that affects me."

  Somers got up, and immediately came to the conclusion that he was notvery badly damaged; and the surgeon was happy to corroborate hisopinion. With the exception of a soreness over the left temple, he feltpretty well. The blow from the iron fist of the burly seaman had stunnedhim; and the kicks received from the big boots of the assailant hadproduced sundry black and blue places on his body, which a man notaccustomed to hard knocks might have looked upon with suspicion, but towhich Somers paid no attention.

  The surgeon had carefully examined him before his consciousnessreturned, and was fully satisfied that he had not been seriouslyinjured. Somers walked across the room two or three times, and bathedhis head with cold water, which in a great measure restored theconsistency of his ideas. He felt a little sore, but he soon became aschipper and as cheerful as an early robin. His first thought was, thathe had escaped being murdered, and he was devoutly thankful to God forthe mercy which had again spared his life.

  The doctor, after giving him some directions in regard to his head, andthe black and blue spots on his body, left the room. He was a navalsurgeon, a guest in the hotel, and promised to see his patient again inthe morning.

  "How do you feel, Somers?" asked Lieutenant Pillgrim, who sat on thebed, gazing with interest, not unmixed with anxiety, at his companion.

  "I feel pretty well, considering the hard rap I got on the head."

  "You have a hard head, Somers."

  "Why so?"

  "If you had not, you would have been a dead man. The fellow pounded youwith his fist, which is about as heavy as an anvil, and kicked you withhis boots, which are large enough and stout enough to make two veryrespectable gunboats."

  "Things are rather mixed in my mind," added Somers, rubbing his headagain, as if to explain how a strong-minded young man like himselfshould be troubled in his upper works.

  "I am not surprised at that. You have remained insensible more than halfan hour. I was afraid, before the surgeon saw you, that your pipe wasout, and you had become a D.D. without taking orders."

  "I think I had a narrow escape. What a tiger the fellow was that pitchedinto me!"

  "It was all a mistake on his part."

  "Perhaps it was; but that don't make my head feel any better. Who is he,and what is he?"

  "He is the captain of a coaster. He had considerable money in hispocket, and he thought you had concealed yourself in his room for thepurpose of robbing him. When he saw that you were an officer in thenavy, he was overwhelmed with confusion, and really felt very bad aboutit."

  "I don't know that I blame him for what he did, under the circumstances.His conclusion was not a very unnatural one. I don't exactly comprehendhow I happen to be in the Continental House, after these stunningevents."

  "Don't you?" said Pillgrim, with a smile.

  "If I had been in condition to expect anything, I should naturally haveexpected to find myself, on coming to my senses, in the low groggerywhere I received the blows."

  "That is very easily accounted for. I happened to be at the house whenyou were struck down. I was in the lower room, and heard the row. Withothers I went up to see what the matter was. I had a carriage in thestreet, and when I recognized you, the captain of the coaster, at myrequest, took you up in his arms like a baby, carried you down into thestreet, and put you into the vehicle, and you were brought here. Ipresume this will fill up the entire gap in your recollection."

  "It is all as clear as mud now," laughed Somers. "Mr. Pillgrim, I amvery grateful to you for the kind offices you rendered me."

  "Don't mention it, my dear fellow. I should have been worse than a bruteif I had done any less than I did."

  "That may be; but my gratitude is none the less earnest on that account.Those are villainous people in that house, and I might have beenbutchered and cut up, if I had been left there."

  "I think not. The captain of the coaster is evidently an honest man; atany rate he is very sorry for what he did. But, Somers, my dearfellow,--you will pardon me if I seem impertinent,--how did you happento be in such a place?" continued Mr. Pillgrim, with a certainaffectation of slyness in his look, as though he had caught theexemplary young man in a house where he would not have been willing tobe seen.

  "How did _you_ happen to be there?" demanded Somers.

  "I don't profess to be a very proper person. I take my whiskey when Iwant it."

  "So do I; and the only difference between us is, that I never happen towant it."

  "I did not go into that house for my whiskey, though. It is ratherstrange that we should both happen into such a place at the same time."

  "Rather strange."

  "But I will tell you why I was there," added Pillgrim. "I received aletter from a wounded sailor, asking me to call upon him, and assist himin obtaining a pension."

  "Did you, indeed!" exclaimed Somers, amazed at this explanation. "Youhave also told how I happened to be there."

  "How was that?"

  "I received just such a letter as that you describe," replied Somers,taking the dirty epistle from his pocket, which he opened and exhibitedto his brother officer.

  "The handwriting is the same, and the substance of both letters isessentially the same. That's odd--isn't it?" continued the lieutenant,as he drew the epistle he had received from his pocket. "I got mine whenI came in, about ten o'clock; and thinking I might go to New York in themorning for a couple of days, I thought I would attend to the matter atonce."

  Somers took the letters, and compared them. They were written by thesame person, on the same kind of paper, and were both mailed on the sameday.

  "This looks rather suspicious to me," added Pillgrim, reflecting on thecircumstances.

  "Why suspicious?"

  "Why should both of us have been called? Tom Barron claims to haveserved with me, as he did with you. I don't remember any such person."

  "Neither do I."

  "Did you find out whether there was any such person at the house as TomBarron?"

  "The woman at the bar told me there was a wounded sailor there whosedescription answered to that contained in the letter."

  "So she told me. Did you see him?"

  "No."

  "I did not; and between you and me, I don't believe there is any TomBarron there, or anywhere else. This business must be investigated,"said Pillgrim, very decidedl
y.

  Somers did not wish it to be investigated. He was utterly opposed to aninvestigation, for he was fearful, if the matter should be "ventilated,"that more would be shown than he was willing to have exhibited at thepresent time; in other words, Coles would find out that his enterprisingscheme had been exposed to a third person.

  "I don't care to be mixed up in any revelations of low life, Mr.Pillgrim; and, as I have lost nothing, and the hard knocks I receivedwere given under a mistake, I think I would rather let the matter restjust where it is."

  "Very natural for a young man of your style," laughed the lieutenant."You are afraid the people of Pinchbrook will read in the papers thatMr. Somers has been in bad places."

  "They might put a wrong construction on the case," replied Somers,willing to have his reasons for avoiding an investigation as strong aspossible.

  "I can hand these letters over to the police, and let the officersinquire into the matter," added Pillgrim. "They need not call anynames."

  "I would rather not stir up the dirty pool. Besides, Tom Barron and hismother may be in the house, after all. There is no evidence to thecontrary."

  "I shall satisfy myself on that point by another visit to the house. IfI find there is such a person there, I shall be satisfied."

  "That will be the better way."

  Just then it occurred to Somers that Coles might have seen him while hewas insensible, and was already aware that his scheme had miscarried. Hequestioned Pillgrim, therefore, in regard to the persons in the bar-roomwhen he entered. From the answers received he satisfied himself thatthe conspirators had departed before the "row" in the front roomoccurred.

  "Now, Somers, I am going down to that house again before I sleep," saidthe lieutenant. "This time, I shall take my revolver. Will you go withme?"

  "I don't feel exactly able to go out again to-night. My head doesn'tfeel just right," replied Somers, who, however, had other reasons forkeeping his room, the principal of which was the fear that he might meetColes there, and that, by some accident, his presence in the front roomduring the conference might be disclosed.

  "I think you are right, Somers. You had better keep still to-night,"said Pillgrim. "Shall I send you up anything?"

  "Thank you; I don't need anything."

  "A glass of Bourbon whiskey would do you good. It would quiet yournerves, and put you to sleep."

  "Perhaps it would, but I shall lie awake on those terms."

  "Don't be bigoted, my dear fellow. Of course I prescribe the whiskey asa medicine."

  "You are no surgeon."

  "It would quiet your nerves."

  "Let them kick, if nothing but whiskey will quiet them," laughed Somers."Seriously, Mr. Pillgrim, I am very much obliged to you for yourkindness, and for your interest in me; but I think I shall be betterwithout the whiskey than with it."

  "As you please, Somers. If you are up when I return, I will tell youwhat I find at the house."

  "Thank you; I will leave my door unfastened."

  Mr. Pillgrim left the room to make his perilous examination of thelocality of his friend's misfortunes. Somers walked the apartment,nervous and excited, considering the events of the evening. He thenseated himself, and carefully wrote out the statement of Coles in regardto the Ben Nevis, and the method by which he purposed to operate ingetting her to sea as a Confederate cruiser, with extended memoranda ofall the conversation to which he had listened. Before he had finishedthis task, Lieutenant Pillgrim returned.

  "It is all right," said he, as he entered the room.

  "What's all right?"

  "There is such a person as Thomas Barron. The facts contained in theletters are essentially true."

  "Then no investigation is necessary," replied Somers, with a feeling ofrelief.

  "None whatever; to-morrow I will see that the poor fellow is sent to thehospital, and his mother provided for."

  Mr. Pillgrim, after again recommending a glass of whiskey, took hisleave, and Somers finished his paper. He went to bed, and in spite ofthe fact that he had drank no whiskey, his nerves were quiet, and hedropped asleep like a good Christian, with a prayer in his heart for the"loved ones at home" and elsewhere.

  The next morning, though he was still quite sore, and his head feltheavier than usual, he was in much better condition, physically, thancould have been expected. After breakfast, as he sat in the parlor ofthe hotel, he was accosted by a gentleman in blue clothes, with a verysmall cap on his head.

  "An officer of the navy, I perceive," said the stranger, courteously.

  "How are you, Langdon?" was the thought, but not the reply, of Somers.