CHAPTER XXXIV
JACK AFLOAT
But Slap-Jack was not asleep; far from it. His narrow
hiding-place offered but little temptation to repose, and
almost the first sentence uttered by Hippolyte aroused the
suspicions of a man accustomed to anticipate, without fearing,
danger, or, as he expressed it, "to look out for squalls."
He listened therefore intently the whole time, and although the Coromantee's jargon was often unintelligible, managed to gather quite enough of its meaning to assure him that some gross outrage was in preparation, of which a white lady and her daughter were to be the victims. Now it is not only on the boards of a seaport theatre that the British sailor vindicates his character for generous courage on behalf of the conventional "female in distress." The stage is, after all, a representation, however extravagant, of real life, and the caricature must not be exaggerated out of all like-*ness to its original. Coarse in his language, rough in his bearing, reckless and riotous from the very nature of his calling, there is yet in the thorough-going English seaman a leavening of tenderness, simplicity, and self-sacrifice, which, combined with his dauntless bravery, affords no ignoble type of manhood. He is a child in his fancies, his credulity, his affections; a lion in his defiance of peril and his sovereign contempt for pain.
With regard to women, whatever may be his practice, his creed is pure, exalted, and utterly opposed to his own experience; while his instincts prompt him on all occasions, and against any odds, to take part with the weaker side. Compared with the landsman, he is always a little behind
