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Updated: May 27, 2025
The change in the public attitude came on him with a sudden shock. "Good-mornin', Uncle," said Sergeant Pengelly of the Sloop Inn, as the veteran joined the usual group on the Quay for the usual 'crack' after breakfast. "There was a touch o' frost in the air this mornin'. I hope it didn't affect you." "What?" said Uncle Issy.
When I was at Dr Hellyer's, the only two things I ever really learnt that were of any use to me in my after-life were, a substantial grounding in mathematics thanks to "Smiley" which subsequently made the study of navigation easy to me when Sam Pengelly put me under charge of a tutor; and, secondly, the art of swimming, the place where the school was situated and the practice of taking out the boys on the beach for the purpose every day, offering great facilities to any one with the least aptitude for taking to the water and possessed of a desire to learn how to support himself in it.
The marine saluted, hunted up a slop-bucket, and poured it over with the message. "If you want to know more, try the guard-ship," said he. "That's all very well, but where in thunder be the guard-ship?" said poor Pengelly, scratching his head. Everyone knew, but everyone differed by something between a quarter and half a mile.
My stockings I soaped, scrubbed, wrung out and laid across the companion rail to dry: but, as it turned out, I was never to use them or my shoes again. My sweep's jumper, waistcoat, and breeches Mr. Pengelly carried off, to burn them.
"Oh, is that you, Pengelly?" responded the skipper of the Esmeralda cordially, accepting Sam's proffered hand and shaking it heartily, "I was just thinking of you and your boy have you brought him with you?"
We all listened. And sure enough the sound of oars was approaching again out of the darkness. "Mr. Pengelly can lower me overside," I urged, "as soon as we're near shore. It's safest in every way." "So best," she answered shortly, and again put the Glad Tidings about. I began to pluck off my clothes.
He saw at once that his tongue would be his better weapon, so put his dagger back into his belt, sat down and snuffed his candle. "Thou art not going to fight?" "Why should we do so? Sit down, Dan Pengelly, and explain thyself." It was the sailor's turn to be astonished. He got a stool and seated himself, his back to the door, and his weapon across his knee. Basil laughed with assumed good-humour.
A certain Master Morgan of Gloucestershire and a well-known knight, Sir Walter Raleigh of Sherborne, are yonder in Plymouth town, and will be able to testify for or against thee. Thou shalt be haled before them to-morrow." "That's work for a strong man, Dan Pengelly." "There are many of my family in this village, and I did not come alone from Plymouth. The widow hath bonny company in the kitchen."
Captain Drake had picked and chosen at his leisure, and a man needed to be many-sided in his accomplishments to get his name inscribed on the ship's books. Take Dan Pengelly. He was an excellent sailor, as bold as a lion, and had sailed the western ocean before. But a hundred men in Plymouth could claim so much as that.
But this only made the good Samaritan prosecute his inquiry further. "Come, come, stow that, youngster," said he, taking a seat beside me on the bench, where I was curled up in one corner, placing one of his hands gently on my shoulder in a caressing way. "Look up, and tell me what ails you, my lad, and if Sam Pengelly can help you, why, there's his fist on it!"
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