There was such an
intolerable air of conceit about this man that it was almost as much
as one could do to refrain from running up and affronting him.
"So the counsellor is come," exclaimed Navy Bob, who, like all the
rest, invariably styled him thus, much to mine and the doctor's
diversion. "Ay," said another, "and for no good, I'll be bound."
Such were some of the observations made, as Wilson and the mate went
below conversing.
But no one exceeded the cooper in the violence with which he inveighed
against the ship and everything connected with her. Swearing like a
trooper, he called the main-mast to witness that, if he (Bungs) ever
again went out of sight of land in the Julia, he prayed Heaven that a
fate might be his - altogether too remarkable to be here related.
Much had he to say also concerning the vileness of what we had to
eat - not fit for a dog; besides enlarging upon the imprudence of
intrusting the vessel longer to a man of the mate's intemperate
habits. With so many sick, too, what could we expect to do in the
fishery? It was no use talking; come what come might, the ship must
let go her anchor.
Now, as Bungs, besides being an able seaman, a "Cod" in the
forecastle, and about the oldest man in it, was, moreover, thus
deeply imbued with feelings so warmly responded to by the rest, he
was all at once selected to officiate as spokesman, as soon as the
consul should see fit to address us. The selection was made contrary
to mine and the doctor's advice; however, all assured us they would
keep quiet, and hear everything Wilson had to say, before doing
anything decisive.
We were not kept long in suspense; for very soon he was seen standing
in the cabin gangway, with the tarnished tin case containing the
ship's papers; and Jennin at once sung out for the ship's company to
muster on the quarter-deck.
CHAPTER XXI.
PROCEEDINGS OF THE CONSUL
THE order was instantly obeyed, and the sailors ranged themselves,
facing the consul.
They were a wild company; men of many climes - not at all precise in
their toilet arrangements, but picturesque in their very tatters. My
friend, the Long Doctor, was there too; and with a view, perhaps, of
enlisting the sympathies of the consul for a gentleman in distress,
had taken more than ordinary pains with his appearance. But among the
sailors, he looked like a land-crane blown off to sea, and consorting
with petrels.
The forlorn Rope Yarn, however, was by far the most remarkable figure.
Land-lubber that he was, his outfit of sea-clothing had long since
been confiscated; and he was now fain to go about in whatever he
could pick up.
