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Updated: June 13, 2025
Meanwhile the bottle thrown overboard by Watty Wilkins, with its "message from the sea," began a long and slow but steady voyage. It may not, perhaps, be known to the reader that there are two mighty currents in the ocean, which never cease to flow.
The congregation broke up, and old William Dent said to one of his cronies, "Watty was grand this afternoon. Ay, they may talk about the fine preachers with the Greek and the Latin, but I want to hear a man like that."
One bad result of the debt thus incurred was that the whole tone and spirit of the party was lowered. "It's too bad," growled Philosopher Jack one evening, as he strode into the tent and flung down his tools; "got barely enough to keep the pot boiling." "Better that than nothing," remarked Watty Wilkins, who was in the act of taking off his wet boots.
In less than three weeks there was not a cup, saucer, or plate in the ship that Watty had not washed; not a "brass" that he had not polished and re-polished; not a copper that he had not scraped; not an inch of the deck that he had not swabbed. But it must not be supposed that he groaned under this labour. Although reckless, hasty, and inconsiderate, he was not mean-spirited.
But as the time passed by they became accustomed to the life, and therefore less appreciative. They failed, also, to find gold in larger quantities, and as the finding of gold was their highest aim, they were proportionally disappointed and downcast. Watty, indeed, kept up his spirits pretty well.
Her big grey eyes were sad with sympathy for sufferers and sinners, and her poke bonnet was full of bunchy, red-gold hair. Her first appearance was somewhat dramatic perhaps the Army arranged it so. The Army used to pray, and thump the drum, and sing, and take up collections every evening outside Watty Bothways' Hotel, the Carriers' Arms.
"Now, you Tracey Tanner," Hiram cuts in sharply, "you run 'long an' don't be a-botherin' round. Seems like a body never can git a chance to rest, with you children allus a-buttin' in " "Aw, shet up," says Tracey dispassionately. "I only wanted to tell you the news." Watty quavers: "What news, Tracey?" "Well," says the boy, "I'll tell you, Watty, but I wouldn't 've told him after what he said."
Now the Goat's Head Tavern was that little inn where in an evil moment the three lads had taken up their abode before the sailing of the Sirius, and to Watty it appeared as if his disgrace must now be spread abroad by the four winds of heaven. It was mental relief to get away out to sea, and to feel that now at least there was again some probability of the excitement of an action.
"Yes, Philosopher Jack, you do know me," returned the ghost; "I've had the honour of playing cricket with you on the green, though you've forgotten me, and no wonder, for I've suffered much from bad air and sea-sickness of late. My name is Walter, more familiarly Watty Wilkins."
Darkness had begun to fall as the French ship struck her colours after a bloody action in which her losses mounted to over one hundred men, including her captain and several officers. In less degree the Sirius suffered; and of those who fell, Watty was one. Early in the engagement he was carried below, badly torn by a severe and dangerous splinter wound in the head.
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