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diff --git a/46730-8.txt b/46730-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 59afefc..0000000 --- a/46730-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7308 +0,0 @@ - NAVAL OCCASIONS - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Naval Occasions - and Some Traits of the Sailor-man -Author: Bartimeus -Release Date: August 29, 2014 [EBook #46730] -Language: English -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NAVAL OCCASIONS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - - - Naval Occasions - - and - - Some Traits of the Sailor-man - - - BY - - "BARTIMEUS" - - - - "... Relating to ... the Navy, whereon, under - the good Providence of God, the wealth, safety, and - strength of the kingdom chiefly depend."--_Articles of War_. - - "... A safeguard unto our most gracious Sovereign - Lord ... and his Dominions, and a security for such - as pass on the seas upon their lawful occasions."--_The - Book of Common Prayer_. - - - - FOURTEENTH IMPRESSION - - - - William Blackwood and Sons - Edinburgh and London - 1916 - - _ALL RIGHTS RESERVED_ - - - - - _TO - MY MOTHER_ - - - - - *PREFACE.* - - -"I reckon that's proper 'New Navy,'" said the coxswain of a duty cutter -to the midshipman perched on the "dickey" seat beside him in the stern. - -It was 6 A.M.: the boat was returning from the early morning beef trip, -and the midshipman in charge of her had seen fit to discuss with his -coxswain the subject which at most hours, and particularly at this one, -lay nearest to his heart--the subject of Food. - -"Proper 'New Navy,'" repeated the petty officer with contempt. He -referred to the recent introduction of marmalade into his scale of -rations. He spoke bitterly, yet his quarrel was not with the marmalade, -which, in its way, was all that marmalade should have been. His regret -was for the "dear dead days" before marmalade was thought of on the -Lower-deck. - -That was ten years ago, but fondness for the ancient order of things is -still a feature of this Navy of ours. There was never a ship like our -last ship: no commission like the one before this one. Gipsies all: yet -we would fain linger a little by the ashes of our camp-fire while the -caravans move on. - -The most indifferent observer of naval affairs during the last decade -will admit that it has been one of immense transition. Changes, more -momentous even than this business of the marmalade, have followed in the -wake of a great wave of progress. "Up and onward" is the accepted order, -but at the bottom of the Sailor-man's conservative heart a certain -reluctance still remains. The talk of smoking-room and forecastle -concerns the doings of yesterday; the ties that link us in a "common -brotherhood" were for the most part forged in the "Old" Navy, so fast -yielding place to new. - -In 'Naval Occasions' the Author has strung together a few sketches of -naval life afloat in the past ten years. They relate to ships mainly of -the "pre-Dreadnought" era, and officers (those of the Military branch at -least) who owe their early training to the old _Britannia_. At the same -time, for all the outward changes, the inner work-a-day life of the -Fleet remains unaltered. With this, and not in criticism of things old -or new, these Sketches are concerned. Pathos and humour continue to rub -elbows on either side of us much as they always have, and there still -remains more to laugh about than sigh over when the day's work is done. - -DEVONPORT, 1914 - - - - - *NOTE.* - - -With the exception of "A Committee of Supply," "That which Remained," "A -Galley's Day," "C/o G.P.O.," "Watch there, Watch!" "A One-Gun Salute," -"The Greater Love," "A Picturesque Ceremony," and "Why the Gunner went -Ashore," the following Naval Sketches were published originally in 'The -Pall Mall Gazette.' - -The first three exceptions appeared in 'The Illustrated Sporting and -Dramatic News,' 'The Magpie,' and 'The Naval and Military Record' -respectively. The remainder have not before appeared in print. - -The Author's best thanks are due to the Editors of the above Journal and -Periodicals for their ready permission to reproduce these Sketches. - - - - - *CONTENTS.* - - I. "D. S. B." - II. CAPTAIN'S DEFAULTERS - III. A GALLEY'S DAY - IV. "NOEL!" - V. THE ARGONAUTS - VI. A GUNROOM SMOKING CIRCLE - VII. THE SHIP-VISITORS - VIII. THE LEGION ON THE WALL - IX. A TITHE OF ADMIRALTY - X. THE CHOSEN FOUR - XI. A COMMITTEE OF SUPPLY - XII. THAT WHICH REMAINED - XIII. THE TIZZY-SNATCHER - XIV. "C/O G.P.O." - XV. THE "LOOK-SEE" - XVI. "WATCH THERE, WATCH!" - XVII. "FAREWELL AND ADIEU!" - XVIII. THE SEVENTH DAY - XIX. THE PARRICIDE - XX. THE NIGHT-WATCHES - XXI. A ONE-GUN SALUTE - XXII. CONCERNING THE SAILOR-MAN - XXIII. THE GREATER LOVE - XXIV. "A PICTURESQUE CEREMONY" - XXV. WHY THE GUNNER WENT ASHORE - - - - - *NAVAL OCCASIONS.* - - - - *I.* - - *"D. S. B."[#]* - -[#] Duty Steam Boat. - - - "The songs of Greece, the pomp of Rome, - Were clean forgot at seventeen. - Oh Lord! At seventeen!" - --G. STEWART BOWLES. - - -The Midshipman of the Second Picket Boat--that is to say, the boat with -the bell-mouthed funnel of burnished brass and vermilion paint inside -her cowls--was standing under the electric light at the battery door -reading the Commander's night order-book. - -"Second Picket Boat to have steam by 5 A.M., and will perform duties of -D.S.B. for the Second Division." He closed the book and stood -meditatively looking out into the darkness beyond the quarter-deck -rails. It was blowing fitfully, gusts of wind shaking the awning in a -manner that threatened dirty weather on the morrow. "Why the deuce -couldn't the other Picket boat...? But she hadn't got a brass -funnel--only a skimpy painted affair. Decidedly it was the fatal beauty -of his boat that had influenced the Commander's decision. Still..." He -yawned drearily, and opening the deck log, ran his finger down the -barometer readings. "Glass low--beastly low--and steady. Wind 4-5, -o.c.q.r. H'm'm." The cryptic quotations did not appear to add joy to -the outlook. Ten o'clock had struck, and forward in the waist the -boatswain's mate was "piping down," the shrill cadence of his pipe -floating aft on the wind. Sorrowfully the Midshipman descended to the -steerage flat, and crouching beneath the hammocks that hung from the -overhead beams, reached his chest and noiselessly -undressed,--noiselessly, because the sleeping occupant of the adjacent -hammock had the morning watch, and was prone to be unreasonable when -accidentally awakened. - -In rather less than a minute he had undressed and donned his pyjamas; -then, delving amid the mysterious contents of his sea-chest, produced a -pair of sea-boots, an oilskin and sou'wester and a sweater. He made his -preparations mechanically, propping the sea-boots where they would be -handiest when he turned out. Lastly, he hung his cap over a -police-light, because he knew from experience that the light caught his -eyes when he was in his hammock, locked his chest, and, choosing a spot -where two mess-mates (who were scuffling for the possession of a -hammock-stretcher) would not fall over his feet, he unconcernedly knelt -down and said his prayers. The corporal of the watch passed on his -rounds: the sentry clicked to attention an instant, and resumed his -beat: above his head the ward-room door opened to admit a new-comer, and -the jangle of a piano drifted down the hatchway; then the door closed -again, shutting out the sound, and the kneeling figure, in rather -dilapidated pyjamas, rose to his feet. Steadying himself by a ringbolt -overhead, he swung lightly into his hammock and wriggled down between -the blankets. From the other side of the flat came a voice-- - -"Freckles, you're D.S.B. to-morrow." - -The Midshipman of the Second Picket Boat grunted in reply and pulled the -blanket close under his chin. Presently the voice sounded again-- - -"Freckles, dear, aren't you glad you sold your little farm and came to -sea?" - -But he who had sold a farm only snuggled his face against the pillow, -sighed once, and was asleep. - -Had you seen the sleeper in waking hours, nursing a cutter close-reefed -through a squall, or handling a launch-load of uproarious liberty-men, -you might, passing by at this moment, have found food for meditation. -For the vibration of the dynamo a deck below presently caused the cap to -fall from the police-light it had shielded, and the glare shone full in -a face which (for all the valiant razor locked away in its owner's -chest) was that of a very tired child. - - * * * * * - -"Orders for the Picket Boat, sir?" - -The Officer of the Morning Watch, who was staring through his binoculars -into the darkness, turned and glanced at the small figure muffled in -oilskins at his side. Many people would have smiled in something -between amusement and compassion at the earnest tone of inquiry. But -this is a trade in which men get out of the way of smiling at 5 -A.M.--besides, he'd been through it all himself. - -"Flagship's signalled some empty coal-lighters broken adrift up to -windward--cruisin' independently. Go an' round 'em up before they drift -down on the Fleet. Better man your boat from the boom and shove straight -off. Smack it about!" - -The small figure in oilskins--who, as a matter of fact, was none other -than the Midshipman of the Second Picket Boat, brass funnel, -vermilion-painted cowls and all--turned and scampered forward. It was -pitch dark, and the wind that swept in rainy gusts along the battery -caught the flaps of his oilskins and buffeted the sleep out of him. -Overside the lights of the Fleet blinked in an indeterminate confusion -through the rain, and for an instant a feeling of utter schoolboy woe, -of longing for the security of his snug hammock, filled his being. Then -the short years of his training told. Somewhere ahead, in that welter -of rain and darkness, there was work to be done--to be accomplished, -moreover, swiftly and well. It was an order. - -Stumbling on to the forecastle, he slipped a life-belt over his -shoulders, climbed the rail, and descended the ship's side by a steel -ladder, until he reached the lower boom. It jutted out into the -darkness, a round, dimly-discerned spar, and secured to it by a -boat-rope at the farthest point of his vision, he saw his boat. The -circular funnel-mouth ringed a smoky glow, and in the green glare of a -side-light one of the bowmen was reaching for the ladder that hung from -the boom. Very cautiously he felt his way out along it steadied by a -man-rope, breast high. Looking downward, he saw the steamboat fretting -like a dog in leash; the next instant she was lurching forward on the -crest of a wave and as suddenly dropped away again in a shower of spray. -Releasing his grip with one hand he slipped astride of the boom, -wriggled on his stomach till his feet touched rungs of a Jacob's ladder, -and so hung in a few feet above the tumbling water. - -"'Arf a mo', sir," said a deep voice behind him. The boat's bows were -plunging just below ... the ladder tautened with a jerk. - -"Now, sir!" said the voice. He relaxed his hold and dropped nimbly on -to the triangular space in the bows. As he landed, the Jacob's ladder -shot upwards into the darkness, as though snatched by an unseen hand. - -Steadying himself by the rail along the engine-room casing he hurried to -the wheel. A bearded petty officer moved aside as he came aft. This was -his Coxswain, a morose man about the age of his father, who obeyed -orders like an automaton, and had once (mellowed by strong waters) been -known to smile. - -"Cast off forward!" The engine-room bell rang twice, and the Midshipman -gave a quick turn to the wheel. For an instant the boat plunged as if -in uncertainty, then swung round on the slope of a slate-grey wave and -slid off on her quest. Forward in the bows the bowmen were crouched, -peering through the rain. Presently one of them hailed hoarsely. - -"Port a bit, sir," supplemented the Coxswain. "That's them, there!" He -pointed ahead to where indistinct shapes showed black against the -troubled waters. The bell rang again in the tiny engine-room, and the -Leading Stoker, scenting adventures, threw up the hatch and thrust a -head and hairy chest into the cold air. His interest in the proceedings -apparently soon waned, however, for he shut the hatch down again and -busied himself mysteriously--always within reach of the throttle and -reversing-lever--with an oil-can. - -Going very slow, the boat crept alongside the foremost lighter, a huge -derelict that, when loaded, carried fifty tons of coal. They had been -moored alongside one another to the wharf, but, rocking in the swell, -had chafed through their moorings and broken adrift. - -Now to take in tow an unwieldy lighter in the dark with a heavy swell -running, and to moor it safely in the spot whence it came, is a piece of -work that requires no small judgment. However, one by one, the three -truants were captured and secured, and then, with the grey dawn of a -winter morning breaking overhead, the picket boat swung round on her -return journey. On the way she passed another boat racing shoreward for -the mails. The Midshipman at the wheel raised his hand with a little -gesture of salutation, and she went by in a shower of spray. - -Half an hour later the Midshipman of the Second Picket Boat, garbed in -the "rig of the day," was ladling sugar over his porridge with the -abandon of one who is seventeen and master of his fate. A messenger -appeared at the gunroom door-- - -"Duty Steam Boat's called away, sir." - -Her Midshipman locked away his pet marmalade-pot (for there are limits -even to the communism of a gunroom) and reached for his cap and dirk. -"We ain't got much money," he observed grimly, "but we _do_ see life!" - - - - - *II.* - - *CAPTAIN'S DEFAULTERS.* - - -At the last stroke of six bells in the Forenoon Watch the Marine bugler -drew himself up stiffly, as one on whom great issues hung, and raising -his bugle sent the imperious summons echoing along the upper deck. -Clattering forward along the battery he halted at the break of the -forecastle and repeated the blast; then, shaking the moisture from the -instrument, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and strutted aft. -He had sounded "Captain's Defaulters." - -An Able Seaman burnishing a search-light on the boat-deck heard the -strident bugle-call and winced. Hurriedly he replaced his cleaning -rags, and with a moistened forefinger and thumb adjusted a dank curl -that peeped beneath his cap. He shared the belief, not uncommon among -sailor-men, that the Captain's judgment at the defaulter-table is duly -swayed by the personal appearance of the delinquent. Eyeing his -inverted reflection in the big concave mirror, he screwed his face into -an expression of piteous appeal, and, cap in hand, repeated several -times in varying notes of regretful surprise: "I 'adn't 'ad no more'n a -drop, sir, w'en I come over all dizzy." The rehearsal concluded, he -flung himself pell-mell down the ladder. On the way he met a messmate -ascending, who remonstrated in the brusque parlance of the tar. - -"In the bloomin' rattle, I am," explained the disturber of traffic. - -"Wha's up, then?" - -The other made a little upward gesture with his elbow and gave a laugh -of pleasant retrospection. "'Strewth!" he supplemented. "Wasn't 'arf -blind, neither," implying that when last ashore he had looked upon the -cup when it was very ruddy indeed. - -At the screen door to the quarter-deck he overtook a companion in -misfortune _en route_ to "toe pitch." This was a frightened -Second-class Stoker, harried aft by one of the Ship's Police at the -shambling gait officially recognised as the "steady double." Together -they saluted and stepped on to the quarter-deck, where, already standing -between his escort, a sullen-eyed deserter, captured the previous day, -scowled into vacancy. The new-comers took their places in the -melancholy line, stood easy, and commenced to preen themselves -furtively, after the manner of sailors about to come under the direct -eye of authority. Then the Captain's Clerk arrived with a bundle of -papers in his hand. - -"All ready, Master-at-Arms?" - -"All ready, sir." The iron-visaged Chief of Police saluted and went to -report to the Commander. The Commander ran his eye over the -defaulter-sheet and, entering the Captain's cabin, disappeared from -view. For a minute a hush settled over the group as silently they -awaited the coming of the man who, to them, represented all that was -Omnipotent upon earth. The breeze led the shadow of the White Ensign a -fantastic dance across the spotless planking, and rustled the papers on -the baize-covered table. Overhead a gull soared, screaming at -intervals, and then swooped suddenly to the water. The owner of the -cherished curl, who was what is technically known in the Service as a -"bird," sucked his teeth thoughtfully and speculated as to the probable -extent of his punishment. The Second-class Stoker fallen-in beside him, -who had broken his leave twenty-four hours, and apparently expected to -be executed, suddenly sniffled and was reproved in an undertone by the -Master-at-Arms. "'_Old_ yer row!" said that dignitary. Then, raising -his voice, he shouted, "'Faulters, 'Shun!" - -The Captain's Clerk, who had been abstractedly watching the sea-gull's -antics and thinking about trout-fishing, came to earth with a start: the -waiting group stiffened to attention and saluted. The Captain walked to -the table and picked up the charge-sheet. - -'"Erbert 'Awkins!" snapped the Master-at-Arms. "Off cap. Absenover -leave twenty-four hours, sir." - -The Second-class Stoker stepped forward; it was his first offence in the -Service, and the Adam's-apple in his throat worked like a piston. -Suddenly recollecting, he snatched off his cap and stood, moistening dry -lips. - -"How long has this man been in the Service?" asked the Captain, grave -eyes on the delinquent's face. - -"Four months, sir," replied his Clerk. - -Then to the culprit: "Why did you break your leave?" The lad shook his -head in obstinate silence. As a matter of fact, he had broken it -because a glib-tongued slut ashore kept him too drunk to return till he -was penniless. But what was the use of telling all that to a Being with -four gold rings on his sleeve, and grey eyes like gimlets in the shadow -of the cap-peak. He wouldn't understand how desperately bad the liquor -had been, and the way the women talked... - -"Why did you break your leave?" The voice was neither harsh nor -impatient. Its tone merely implied that the speaker not only wanted an -answer but meant to have one. Rather a kind voice for a Captain. Queer -little wrinkles he had round the corners of his mouth and eyes ... made -a bloke look wise-like ... as though after all ... Lord! How his head -ached.... Steady eyes those were... - -"It's like this 'ere, sir----" The gates of sulky reserve opened -suddenly and without warning: in a flood of words came the sorry -explanation, sordid, incoherent, clothed in half-learned _patois_ of the -lower deck. But the figure in the gold-peaked cap seemed to accept it, -such as it was, for presently he nodded dismissal. - -"Cautioned," he said curtly. - -With a click of the heels, the escort and their prisoner wheeled before -the table. The Commander made a brief report, and the Captain scanned a -few papers. The charge was desertion. - -"Anything to say?" - -"No, sir." - -"Why did you desert?" - -"I'm fed up with the Navy." - -The Captain's eyes grew stern, and he nodded as one who comprehends. -There had been moments in his own career when he too had been "fed up -with the Navy." But life holds other things than obedience to -inclinations. - -Now this deserter represented a type that is to be met with in both -Services, these days of "piping peace." Recruited from the slums of a -great city, bone-lazy and vicious as a weasel, small wonder he found a -life wherein men worked hard and cleanly little to his taste. The -immaculate cleanliness and clock-work regularity around him were bad -enough, but far worse was the discipline. It astonished him at first; -then, half-awed, he hated it with all the sullen savagery of his warped -nature. The so-called Socialism of black-garbed orators, idly listened -to on Sunday afternoons in bygone days, had hinted at such -possibilities--but here he met it face to face at every turn. - -For a while--a very little while--he defied it, as he had defied -impassive policemen in guttersnipe days, with shrill, meaningless -obscenities. Then he strove to elude it, and was clouted grievously by -O'Leary, the brawny Chief Stoker, in that he had skulked from his -lawfully appointed task. He had meant to drop a fire-bar on O'Leary's -head for that, but hadn't the courage requisite for murder. Because of -his dirty habits and an innate habit for acquiring other men's gear, he -was not beloved of his messmates; and to be unpopular on the mess-deck -of a man-of-war means that the sooner you seek another walk of life the -better. He strove to seek it, accordingly, burrowing back into the -teeming slum-life of yore, until one night, in the flare of a hawker's -barrow, a policeman's hand closed upon his collar. - -"... I think there's time. I believe we'll make a man of you yet. I'll -deal with you by warrant." - -The escort swung him on his heel. - -The Captain glanced again at the charge-sheet and thence to the third -culprit before him. - -"You were drunk on leave?" - -"No, sir." - -"But the Officer of the Patrol and the Officer of the Watch and the -Surgeon all say you were drunk." - -The "bird" sighed deeply. "I 'adn't 'ad no more'n a drop, sir----" he -began. - -"Deprived of one day's pay," interrupted the Captain; "and get your hair -cut." - -"'Air cut--forfeit one day's pay," echoed the Master-at-Arms. "_Hon_ -cap; 'bout turn, quick march!" - - * * * * * - -The day passed as most days do in harbour. In the afternoon the Captain -played a game of golf, and in the evening dined with a brother Captain. -During the meal they discussed submarine signalling and a new putter. -The Commander, who contemplated matrimony, was in a conservatory -conducting himself in a manner calculated to reduce his ship's -company--had they been present--to babbling delirium. In the twilight, -the Captain's Clerk, with rod and fly-book, meandered beside a stream -twenty miles away. The Master-at-Arms, who had a taste for melodrama, -witnessed from a plush-lined box "The Body-Snatcher's Revenge" in the -company of Mrs and Miss Master-at-Arms and a quart of stout. On board, -in the foremost cell, sat a recovered deserter under sentence of ninety -days' detention. - -"Gawd!" he whined--and in his voice was an exceeding -bitterness--"Wotcher want to 'ate me for?" - -Now these things were happening at about the same time, so you see the -drift of his argument with his Maker. - - - - - *III.* - - *A GALLEY'S DAY.* - - -Boom! On board the Flagship a puff of smoke rose and dissolved in the -breeze; the cluster of whalers and gigs that had been hovering about the -starting-line sped away before the wind. The bay to windward resembled -the shallows near the nesting-ground of white-winged gulls as the -remaining gigs, whalers, and cutters zigzagged tentatively to and fro, -and a couple of belated 25-feet whalers, caught napping, went tearing -down among them. - -The launches and pinnaces do not start for another hour, and are for the -most part still at the booms of their respective ships. There are three -more classes before us, and it only remains to keep out of the way and -an eye on the stop-watch. The breeze is freshening, and it looks like a -"Galley's day." A 32-feet cutter (handiest and sweetest of all Service -boats to sail) goes skimming past on a trial run. Her gilded badge -gleams in the spray, and there is a sheen of brasswork and enamel about -her that proclaims the pampered darling of a ship. The Midshipman at the -helm--to show a mere galley what he can do--chooses a squall in which he -put her about; she spins round like a top, and is off on her new tack in -the twinkling of an eye. - -Casey, Petty Officer and Captain's Coxswain, is busy forward with the -awning and an additional halliard rove through a block at the foremast -head. This, steadied by the boat-hook, will serve us as a spinnaker -during the three-mile run down-wind; and, in a Service rig race, is the -only additional fitting allowed beyond what is defined as "the rig the -boat uses on service, made of service canvas by service labour." - -Only half a minute now.... Check away the sheets. Spinnaker halliards -in hand. - -Boom! We are off! Hoist spinnaker! - -As we cross the line the 32-ft. cutter and a couple of gigs slip over -abreast of us; astern a host of white sails come bellying in our wake; -up to windward the pinnaces and launches are manoeuvring for positions. -The cutter has "goose-winged" her dipping-lug and is running dead before -the wind. In a narrow boat like a galley this is dangerous and does not -pay. Luffing a little, we get the wind on our quarter, and the gigs -follow suit. Presently the cutter gybes and loses ground; the gigs, too, -have dropped astern a little. - -Our galley's crew settle down in the bottom of the boat, and producing -pipes and cigarettes from inside their caps, speculate on the chances of -the day. Far ahead the smaller fry are negotiating the mark-buoy. -Imperceptibly the breeze freshens, till the wind is whipping a wet smoke -off the tops of the waves. Casey, tending the main-sheet, removes his -pipe and spits overside. "I reckons we'll want our weather-boards -before we'm done, sir," he prophesies. We have shown the rest of our -class a clean pair of heels by now, and are fast overhauling the -whalers. At last the mark-buoy. - -"Down spinnaker!" and round we go, close hauled. Now the work starts. -A white squall tearing down the bay blinds us with spray and fine desert -sand. The water pours over the gunwale as we luff and luff again. -There's nothing for it: we must reef, and while we do so, round come the -remainder, some reefed and labouring, others lying up in the wind with -flapping sails. A nasty short sea has set in, and at the snub of each -wave, the galley, for all the careful nursing she receives, quivers like -a sensitive being. - -"She can't abear that reef in her foresail," says Casey; "it do make her -that sluggish." As he spoke, our rival, the 32-ft. cutter, went -thrashing past under full sail, her crew crouched to windward. It was -going to be neck or nothing with them. Then, by James-- - -"Got anything to bail with, forward there?" - -"Yessir!" replied seven voices as one. - -"Stand-by to shake out that reef!" We luffed for a second while two -gigs and a pinnace crept up on our quarter, and then off we went in the -seething wake of the cutter. Even Casey's big toe curled convulsively as -he braced himself against the thwart and spat on his hands to get a -fresh grip on the main-sheet. The spray hissed over us like rain, and, -under cover of his oilskin, I believe No. 5, perched on the weather -gunwale, was sorrowfully unlacing his boots. - -"If it don't get no worse," says Casey, "we'll do all right." With his -bull-dog chin above the gunwale he commenced a running commentary on the -proceedings. "... 'Strewth! There's 'is foremast gorn!" He gazed -astern enraptured. "Commander's weather-shroud carried away, sir, an' -'im a-drifting 'elpless.... Them whalers is bailin' like loo-natics--" -he gave a hoarse chuckle, "like proper loo-natics, sir.... That there -launch precious near fouled the mark-buoy.... 'E'll run down that gig if -'e don't watch it. Their owner sailing 'er too." - -Then the squalls died away and the breeze steadied. I could hear the -surge of a launch as she came crashing along on our quarter, but once -round the second mark-buoy and on the port tack no one could touch -us--at least so Casey vowed. - -Suddenly, the half-drowned bowman gave the first sign of animation that -he had displayed since the green seas began to break over him. "She's -missed stays," he announced with gruff relish, peering under the lip of -the foresail. - -"'Oo? Not that cutter...?" Casey so far forgot himself as to squirt -tobacco juice into the sacred bottom of his own boat. "Yessir, an' so -help me," he added in confirmation, "she's in Hirons!"[#] - - -[#] A boat is said to be "in irons" when she lies dead head-to-wind and -cannot pay off on either tack. - - -The next minute we passed to windward of our rival, as with flapping -sheets and reversed helm she drifted slowly astern. Her Midshipman -avoided our eyes as we passed, but his expression of incredulous -exasperation I have seen matched only on the face of one whose loved and -trusted hunter has refused a familiar jump. Above the noise of the wind -and waves I heard his angry wail-- - -"O-o-oh! Isn't she a cow!" - -The wind held fair and true, and, as Casey prophesied, it proved a -Galley's day after all. A launch and two pinnaces raced us for the -Flagship's ram, and our rudder missed the cable by inches as we wore to -bring us on to the finishing line. Even then the launch nearly had it; -but I think that the observations exchanged, as we slipped round side by -side (_sotto voce_ and perfectly audible to every one in both boats), -between Casey and the launch's Coxswain, did much to spoil the nerve of -the First Lieutenant who was sailing her. - -Much of that day I have forgotten. But the sheen of white sails -sprinkled along the triangular nine-mile course, the grey hulls of the -Fleet against the blue of sea and sky, the tremor of the boat's frame as -the water raced hissing past her clinker-built sides, the bucket and -shrug, the lurch and reel and plunge as she fought her way to -windward,--all these things have combined to make a blur of infinitely -pleasant memories. - - * * * * * - -Casey gave a sigh of contentment and handed back an empty glass through -the pantry door. - -"Well, sir," he said, "I reckon that was a proper caper!" Then, as if -realising that his summing up of the race required adequate -embellishment, and less formal surroundings in which to do the occasion -justice, he wiped his mouth on the back of a huge paw and moved forward -out of sight along the mess-deck. - - - - - *IV.* - - *"NOEL!"* - - -"'Arf-pas' seven, sir!" A private of Marines rapped heavy knuckles -against the chest of drawers, and, seeing the occupant of the bunk stir -slightly, withdrew from the cabin. For a little while longer the figure -under the blankets lay motionless; then a tousled head appeared, -followed by shoulders and arms. - -"Gr-r-r!" said their owner. He blinked at the electric light a moment, -then reached out a lean, tatooed arm for his tea. He drank it -thoughtfully, and, lighting a cigarette, lay back again. His gaze -travelled from the rack overhead that contained his gun and golf-clubs, -down over the chest of drawers with its freight of battered silver cups, -photographs, and Japanese curios, to the deck where a can of hot water -steamed beside the shallow bath; finally it lit on the chair, on the -back of which hung his frock-coat. Why had his servant put out his -frock-coat? Was it Sunday? For a while he considered the problem. - -Then he remembered. - -With a grunt he hoisted himself on to one elbow and looked out of the -scuttle into the gloom. It was snowing, and the reflected lights of the -ships blinked at him across the water. - -"Oh Lord!" he ejaculated, and buried himself anew among the blankets. -Twenty minutes later, as he was sitting in his bath, the curtain across -the door was unceremoniously jerked aside and a ruddy face appeared in -the opening. - -"No-o-el-l-l! N-o-el!" chanted the apparition. A sponge full of water -cut the caroller short, and the sounds of strife and expostulation -drifting from adjacent cabins marked the trail of Yuletide greetings. - -In the Wardroom the fire was smoking fitfully, each outpour being -regarded with philosophic resignation by the Marine duty-servant. Him -the First Lieutenant, entering at that moment, drove wrathfully on deck. -"Go up an' trim the cowl to the wind: don't stand there trying to -mesmerise the infernal thing." - -One by one the members of the Mess struggled in and seated themselves in -gloomy silence. There were many gaps in the long row of chairs, for -every one "spared by the exigencies of the Service" was on leave, the -heads of departments being represented by their juniors, and a couple of -Watch-keeping Lieutenants completing the complement. - -The Young Doctor alone preserved a cheerful mien. "Boy, you're as -yellow as a guinea!" was his greeting to the Junior Watch-keeper -(recently a sojourner on the West Coast, with a constitution to match). -"How's the fever?" - -The Junior Watch-keeper ascribed to the malady a quality hitherto -unrecognised by the most advanced medical science, and scanned the -_menu_ indifferently. - -The belated arrival of the postman as the table was being cleared did -much to brighten matters. A rustling silence, interspersed by an -occasional chuckle (hurriedly repressed), presently gave way to general -conversation. Pipes were lit, and the fire coaxed into a more urbane -frame of mind. The Junior Watch-keeper was seen to transfer stealthily -from a letter to his pocket something that crackled crisply. The Young -Doctor and the Assistant Paymaster (hereinafter known as the A.P.) sat -complacently on his chest while they explored his pockets. - -"Let me--it's years since I touched a fiver.... _And_ a dun from -Ikey--well, I'm blessed! _And_ a Christmas card from Aunt Selina to -dear Gussie--oh, Gussie, look at the pretty angels! He hides it in his -pocket----" - -"He stands fizz all round at seven bells," announced the First -Lieutenant in a calm, judicial voice. - -The Junior Watch-keeper didn't stand it, but fizz all round there was. -The First Lieutenant read prayers on the snow-powdered quarterdeck, and -then, following the immemorial custom of the Service, the Wardroom made -a tour of the garland-hung mess-deck, halting at each mess to exchange -the compliments of the season and to sample the plum-duff. - -Properly observed, this ritual would put the normal stomach out of -action for the remainder of the day. But there are discreet methods of -sampling. The Day-on flopped exhaustedly on to a Wardroom settee, and -proceeded to empty his cap of lumps of "figgy-duff," cigarettes, and -walnuts. "Bless their hearts," he murmured, "I love them and I love -their figgy-duff, but there are limits--here, Jess!" He whistled -gently, and a fox-terrier asleep by the fire rose and delicately -accepted the tribute. "Number One," continued the speaker, "you looked -quite coy when they cheered you, going rounds just now." Then raising -his voice he sang-- - - "For he's a jolly good fe-ello-o-O!" - - -The First Lieutenant's grave face relaxed. "Less of it, young fellow," -he replied, smiling. He had lost a wife and child as a young lieutenant, -and something of his life's tragedy still lingered in the level grey -eyes. - -Then followed the popping of corks and the tinkle of glass. Even the -fever-stricken one brightened. "Now then," he shouted truculently to -the Young Doctor, "I don't mind if you do wish me a happy Christmas, you -benighted body-snatcher." But the Surgeon was opening the piano, and as -he fingered the opening bars of "Good King Wenceslas," some one turned -and smote the fire into a blaze. - - * * * * * - -The short day was fading into dusk, and the Mess sat eyeing one another -sorrowfully over the tea-table. You can't drink champagne, sing "Good -King Wenceslas," and beat the fire all day. - -"What price being at home now?" said the Engineer-Lieutenant, gloomily -buttering a piece of bread and smearing it with treacle. - -"Yes, and charades, and kids, and snapdragon," added the A.P. He mused -awhile reminiscently. "Christmas is rotten without kids to buck things -up." - -The Day-on looked up from a book. "You're right. I don't feel as if it -were Christmas day--except for my head," he added reflectively. - -The First Lieutenant entered, holding a note in his hand. "Look here, -the Skipper wants us to have him and his missus to supper. He'll motor -in, and"--he referred again to the note--"he's bringing the four -youngsters--and a Christmas-tree. Wants to know if we can put up a turn -for them." - -In the annals of the Service had such a thing ever happened before? The -Mess stared wild-eyed at one another. "Crackers," gasped the Day-on, -visions of childhood fleeting through his mind. "Santa Claus!" murmured -the Young Doctor, already mentally reviewing his store of cotton-wool. -"Holly and mistletoe," supplemented the Engineer-Lieutenant, eyeing the -bare walls of the Mess. - -There was much to be done, but they did it somehow. The A.P. sallied -forth and stole crackers from a Mission schoolroom. The First -Lieutenant and Young Doctor between them fashioned a wondrous wig and -beard for Santa Claus. The Junior Watch-keeper is rumoured to have -uprooted (under cover of darkness) an entire holly bush from the Admiral -Superintendent's garden, and their guests arrived to find the Mess -transformed. No sooner was supper over than the First Lieutenant -vanished, and they entered the smoking-room to find a genuine Santa -Claus, with snowy beard and gruff voice, dispensing gifts from the magic -tree. There were miraculous presents for all: Zeiss binoculars for one -(had he not been bemoaning the want of a pair on the bridge a fortnight -before?): a wrist-watch for another (it replaced one smashed while -working targets not long ago), a fountain-pen for another, a -cigarette-holder for a fourth, whose tobacco-stained fingers had long -been a subject of reproach from his Captain's wife. - -And when the tree was denuded at last, what an ambush for lurking -dragons! They were slain ultimately with a sword-scabbard by a flushed -Knight astride the champing Junior Watch-keeper. It figured further in -the tiger-shoot conducted from the howdah of an elephant--a noble beast -in whose identity no one would have recognised the grey-painted canvas -cover of a 3-pdr. gun, much less the Engineer-Lieutenant inside it. - -For the matter of that, had you seen the tiger who died, roaring -terribly almost within reach of its tethered quarry (Jess, the bored and -disgusted terrier), you would never have known the A.P.--especially as -he had broken his glasses in the throes of realistic dissolution. - -When it was all over, the "Skipper's Missus" sat down at the piano, and -together they sang the old, memory-haunted Christmas hymns, the woman's -contralto and children's trebles blending with the voices of men who at -heart were ever children themselves. - -The First Lieutenant didn't sing. The fire needed so much attending to. - - - - - *V.* - - *THE ARGONAUTS.* - - - "... Lest perchance them grow weary - In the uttermost parts of the Sea, - Pray for leave, for the good of the Service, - As much and as oft as may be." - --_The Laws of the Navy_. - - -Life on board a man-of-war in the tropics, especially Gunroom life, is -attended by discomforts peculiarly its own. To begin with, a trip at -sea heats the ship like a steel-walled Inferno, and on reaching harbour -she swings at her anchor, bows-on to what breeze there may be; the -chances of getting a cool draught through scuttles and gun-ports are -thus reduced to a minimum. There is, furthermore, an Affliction known -as "prickly heat," beside which chastisement with scorpions is futile -and ineffectual; moreover, you must meet the same faces day after day, -month after month, at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, till Junior Officers -of His Majesty's Navy have been known to revile one another over each -other's style of masticating food. From these conditions of life -spring, indeed, a candid and illuminating intimacy; but they are also at -times responsible for a weariness of the soul that passes utterly all -boredom. - - * * * * * - -The trouble began in the bathroom, an apartment 12 feet long by 8 feet -broad, and occupied at the time by six people in various stages of their -ablutions. It concerned the ownership of a piece of soap, which may -seem a trivial enough matter--as indeed it was; but when you have lain -sweating under the awnings all through a breathless night, when, having -watched another aching dawn creep over the sea, you descend to splash -sulkily in three inches of lukewarm water, the tired brain lacks a fine -sense of the proportion of things. - -It finished as suddenly as it flared up, and both combatants realised -the childishness of it all ere the blood had time to dry on their -damaged knuckles. But beyond a peevish request that they should not -hold their dripping noses over the basins, no one present appeared -interested or dismayed--which was a very bad sign indeed. - - * * * * * - -The Senior Midshipman burst into the Gunroom with a whoop of joy and -flung the leave-book on the table. - -"What did he say?" chorussed the inmates anxiously. - -"Said we could take the third cutter, an' go to Blazes in her," replied -the delegate breathlessly, grovelling under the table for his gun-case. -"We can clear out till Sunday night, an' if there's a scratch on the new -paint when we come back"--the flushed face appeared for an -instant--"we'll all be crucified!" - -Whereupon ensued swift and awful pandemonium. Three blissful days of -untrammelled freedom ashore, in which to eat, bathe, and sleep at will! -The Mess rose with one accord and blessed the name of the Commander in -ornate phraseology of the Sea. Four navigating experts flung themselves -upon a large-scale Admiralty Chart: guns and cartridges appeared as if -by magic. A self-appointed Committee of Supply, wrangling amicably, -invaded the pantry; blankets were hurriedly dragged from the -hammock-nettings, while willing hands lowered the cutter from her -davits. In crises such as these there is no need to detail workers for -any particular duty. Each one realises his own particular metier and is -a law unto himself. - -"Hoist foresail!" The boat sheered off lazily from the gangway, and the -bowmen tugged and strained at the halliards. "Set mainsail!" A light -breeze whispered in from the open sea, and the rippled water clucked and -gurgled along the clinker-built sides. Perched on a bundle of rugs in -the stern sat the Coxswain, one hand on the tiller, the other shading -his eyes from the afternoon sun. The remainder of the crew disposed -themselves in more or less inelegant attitudes of ease in the bottom of -the boat. She had been rigged and provisioned in silence--not lightly -does one imperil one's emancipation by making a noise alongside; but -once clear of the ship, the youth tending the main-sheet lifted up his -voice in song, a babble of spontaneous nonsense set to a half-remembered -tune-- - - "Isn't this a bit of all-right! - Oh, _isn't_ this a bit of all-right!" - -he chanted joyously, eyes half closed under the brim of his tilted -helmet. Forgotten the weary monotony of ship routine, with its -watch-keeping and school, squabbling and recrimination, and the -ceaseless adjustment of the scales of discipline. Forward in the bows -one of the bowmen hove the lead, chanting imaginary soundings with -ultra-professional intonation: "A-a-and a ha' five..." Clinging to the -weather shroud, another, a slim, white-clad figure against the blue of -sea and sky, declaimed "The Ancient Mariner"--or as much of it as he -could remember. - -The islands, that half an hour earlier had been but vague outlines -quivering in the heat-haze, took form and substance. Rock-guarded -inlets crept up to beaches of white sand where the kelp and drift-wood -of ages formed a barrier at high-water mark, and overhanging palms threw -shadows deep and delectably mysterious. As the water shoaled, seaweed -stretched purple tentacles upward out of the gloom, swaying and -undulating towards the swirl beneath the rudder. A half-clad figure in -the bows, trailing naked toes over the side, shattered the sleepy -silence with shouts that sent the echoes rioting among the rocks. -Overhead a startled gull wheeled inquisitively. - -"Hard a-port! Now, steady as you go!" With lowered sails and oars -rising and dipping lazily, the boat headed towards an inlet whose -shelving beach promised good camping-ground. Presently came the order-- - -"Way enough!" The oars clattered down on to the thwarts, the anchor -splashed overside, and a moment later a dozen figures were swimming -lustily for thrice-blessed terra firma. - -A tent was pitched and the precious guns ferried ashore. An intrepid -party of explorers headed off into the jungle in search of pigeon. -Others played desultory Rugby football in the shallows, chased lizards, -rent the air with song. The long day passed all too quickly. Swiftly -the tropic night swept in over painted sky and tree-top. Ghost-like -figures came splashing from pools, sliding down from trees, floating -shoreward on improvised rafts, to gather round the fire and fizzling -frying-pans. Tinned sausages ("Bangers") and bacon, jam, sardines and -bananas, cocoa, beer, and sloe-gin: the Argonauts guzzled shamelessly. - -When it was over and pipes and cigarettes were lit, some one rose and -flung an armful of dry kelp into the white heart of the fire. It -spluttered angrily and then flared, throwing an arc of crimson light on -the beach, deepening the obscurity that ringed the seated group. - -The Argonaut nearest the fire picked up a pebble and pitched it lazily -at a neighbour. "What about a song, you slacker! Something with a -chorus." The other removed his pipe from his mouth, wriggled into a -sitting posture and, hugging the corners of his blanket over his -shoulders, started a song. It was from a comic opera two years old, but -it was the last thing they heard before leaving England, and the refrain -went ringing across the star-lit bay. The firelight waned, and a yellow -moon crept up out of the sea, setting a shimmering pathway to the edge -of the world. - -"Hai-yah!" yawned one. "So sleepy." He hollowed out the sand beneath -his hip-bone, drew his blanket closer round him, and was asleep. One by -one the singers were silent, and as the moon, full sail upon the face of -heaven, flooded the islands with solemn light, the last Argonaut rolled -over and began to snore. The waves lapped drowsily along the beach; -tiny crabs crept out in scurrying, sidelong rushes to investigate the -disturbers of their peace; the dying embers of the fire clinked and -whispered in the silence. - - * * * * * - -The Commander, smoking on the after sponson, smiled as the sound of oars -came faintly across the water. Out of the darkness drifted the hum of -voices, and presently he heard a clear laugh, mirthful and carefree. -Knocking the ashes out of his pipe, he nodded sagely, as though in -answer to an unspoken question. - - - - - *VI.* - - *A GUNROOM SMOKING CIRCLE.* - - -Be it understood that Gunroom Officers do not usually talk at breakfast. -The right-minded entrench themselves behind newspapers, and deal in all -seriousness and silence with such fare as it has pleased the Messman to -provide. In harbour, those favoured of the gods make a great business -of opening and reading letters, pausing between mouthfuls to smirk in an -irritating and unseemly manner. But it is not until one reaches the -marmalade stage, and the goal of repletion is nigh, that speech is -pardonable, and is then usually confined to observations on the -incompetency of the cook in the matter of scrambling eggs and the like. - -Abreast the screen-door, which opened from the battery to the -quarter-deck, the ship's side curved suddenly into a semicircular -bastion. It was thus designed to give the main-deck gun a larger arc of -fire, but had other advantages--affording a glimpse ahead of splayed-out -seas racing aft from the bow, and in fine weather a sunny space -sheltered from the wind by casemate and superstructure. - -Here, one morning after breakfast, came the Gunroom Smokers, pipe and -tobacco-pouches in hand. Cigarettes were all very well in their way: -"two draws and a spit" snatched during stand-easy in the forenoon. A -cigar was a satisfying enough smoke after dinner when one's finances -permitted it; but while the day of infinite possibilities still lay -ahead, and the raw, new sunlight flushed the world with promise, then -was the time for briar or clay: black, well seasoned, and of a pungent -sweetness. - -Each smoker settled into his favourite nook, and, cap tilted over his -nose, with feet drawn up and hand-clasped knees, prepared to sit in -kindly judgment on the Universe. The Sub-Lieutenant blew a mighty cloud -of smoke and gave a sigh of contentment. He had kept the Middle Watch. -From midnight till four that morning he had been on the bridge, moving -between the faint glow of the binnacle and the chart-house, busying -himself with a ruler and dividers, and faint lines on the surface of the -chart. He was clear-eyed and serene of brow, as befitted a man who had -seen the dawning. For a like reason he had neglected to shave. - -"What's the news?" inquired the Assistant Paymaster between puffs. The -ship had been three days at sea, and was even then a hundred and fifty -miles from her destination. But very early in the morning a tired-eyed -Operator in the Wireless-house had sat, measuring in dots and dashes the -beating of the world's pulse. - -"A disastrous earthquake--" began a Midshipman, reading from the -closely-written sheet. - -"Oh, hang you and your earthquake!" said the Sub. "I'm sick of -earthquakes--who won the Test Match?" Which, when you consider the -matter, is no bad attitude towards life in which to start the day. - -"A new aeroplane--" resumed the reader. - -"Talkin' of aeroplanes," interrupted some one, "I once knew a girl----" - -"Why don't they have Snotties in the Flying Corps?" chimed in a third. -"Why, if I were in the Government, I'd----" - -But the reader continued in tranquil indifference. Quite a number of -years had passed since he first learned that in Gunroom communities to -stop speaking on account of interruptions meant spending your days in -the silence of a Trappist. - -"... at the point of the bayonet, the enemy retreating in disorder." -Silence on the group at last. This was of more account than cricket or -aeroplanes, for this was War, their trade in theory, and, perchance--and -the Fates were wondrous kind--the ultimate destiny of each. The Censor -of Governments gave a delighted blast from his pipe-- - -"The bayonet!" he breathed. "That's the game...!" In all his short -life he had never seen a blow delivered in hate--the hate that strikes -to kill. Yet a queer light smouldered in his eyes as half-dreamily he -watched the waves scurrying to join the smother of the wake. - -The Clerk by the muzzle of the 6-in. gun took his pipe out of his mouth -and turned towards the speaker. "I've got a brother on the -Frontier--lucky blighter, I bet he's in it!" He removed his glasses, as -he always did in moments of excitement, and blinked short-sightedly in -the morning sunlight. He came of a fighting strain, but had been doomed -by bad sight to exchange the sword, that was his heritage, for pen and -ledger. "Does it say anything else--let me see, Billy." - -"No--no details; only a few casualties; they killed a Subalt--" he -stopped abruptly; the wind caught the sheet and whisked it from his -fingers. His face had grown white beneath its tan. - -"Oh, you ass!" chorussed the group. The piece of paper whirled high in -the air and settled into the water astern. A shadow fell athwart the -seated group, and the Sub. looked up. - -"Hullo! Good-morning, Padre!" - -"Good-morning," replied the sturdy figure in the mortar-board. A genial -priest this, who combined parochial duties with those of Naval -Instructor, and spent the dog-watches in flannels on the forecastle, -shepherding a section of his flock with the aid of boxing-gloves. -"Discussing the affairs of your betters, and the Universe, as usual, I -suppose! I came over to observe that there is a very fine horizon, and -if any of ye feel an uncontrollable desire to take a sight----" - -"Not yet, sir!" protested a clear tenor chorus. "Morning-watch, sir," -added a voice; then, mimicking the grumbling whine of a discontented -Ordinary Seaman: "Ain't 'ad no stand-easy--besides, sir, the index-error -of my sextant----" - -Somewhere forward in the battery the notes of a bugle sang out. The -members of the Gunroom smoking circle mechanically knocked out their -pipes against the rim of the white-washed spitkid, and rose one by one -to their feet, straightening their caps. In a minute the sponson was -deserted, save for the Clerk who lingered, blinking at the sunlit sea. -A moment later he turned, encountering the kindly, level eyes of the -Chaplain. - -"The name," he said, with a little inclination of his head to where, far -astern, a gull was circling curiously, "was it--the same, sir, as--as -mine?" - -"Yes," replied the Chaplain gravely. - -The boy nodded and turned again to the sea. His young face had -hardened, and the colour had gone out of his lips. The other, thrice -blessed in the knowledge of how much sympathy unmans, and how much -strengthens to endure, laid a steadying hand on the square shoulder -presented to him. "He died fighting, remember," said this man of peace. - -The Clerk nodded again, and gripped the hand-rail harder. "He always -was the lucky one, sir." He adjusted his glasses thoughtfully, and went -below to where, in the electric-lit office, the ship's Ledger was -awaiting him. - - - - - *VII.* - - *THE SHIP-VISITORS.* - - -"There's the boat!" exclaimed the younger girl excitedly. Her sister -nodded with dancing eyes, and half turned to squeeze her mother's arm. -Half a mile away a picket-boat detached itself from one of the anchored -battleships and came speeding across the harbour. Breathless, they -watched it approach, saw bow and stern-sheet men stoop for their -boat-hooks, heard the warning clang of the engine-room bell, and the -next moment the Midshipman in charge swung her deftly alongside the -landing-stage with a smother of foam under the stern. A figure in -uniform frock-coat jumped out. - -"Hullo, mother! Sorry I'm late: have you been waiting long? ... Mind -the step!" - -The descent into a picket-boat's stern-sheets, especially if you are -encumbered by a skirt, is no easy matter. Perhaps the Midshipman of the -boat realised it too, for he abandoned the wheel and assisted in the -embarkation with the ready hand and averted eye that told of no small -experience in such matters. - -Then they heard a clear-cut order, the bell rang again, and the return -journey commenced; but they did not hear the hoarse whisper conveyed -down the voice-pipe to the Leading Stoker to "Whack her up!" And so -they failed to realise that they were throbbing through the water at a -speed which, though causing the Midshipmen of passing boats to gnash -their teeth with envy, was exceedingly bad for the engines and wholly -illegal. But then one does not bring a messmate's sisters off to the -ship every day of the week. - -Presently the bell rang again, and a grey steel wall, dotted with -scuttles and surmounted by a rail, towered above them. The boat stopped -palpitating beside a snowy ladder that reached to the water's edge. The -occupant of the stockhold threw up the hatch of his miniature Inferno -and thrust a perspiring head into view; but it is to be feared that no -one noticed him, though he had contributed in no small degree to the -passengers' entertainment. The Mother looked at the mahogany-railed -ladder and sighed thankfully. "I always thought you climbed up by -rope-ladders, dear," she whispered. - -The ascent accomplished, followed introductions to smiling and somewhat -bashful youths, who relieved the visitors of parasols and handbags, and -led the way to a deck below, where racks of rifles were ranged along -white-enamelled bulkheads, and a Marine sentry clicked to attention as -they passed. Down a narrow passage, lit by electric lights, past a -cage-like kitchen and rows of black-topped chests, and, as the guide -paused before a curtained door, a glimpse forward of crowded mess-decks. -Then, a little bewildered, they found themselves in a narrow apartment, -lit by four brass-bound scuttles. A long table ran the length of the -room, with tea things laid at one end; overhead were racks of golf-clubs -and hockey-sticks, cricket-bats and racquets. A row of dirks hung above -the tiled stove, and a baize-covered notice-board, letter-racks, and a -miscellaneous collection of pictures adorned the rivet-studded walls. A -somewhat battered piano, topped by a dejected palm, occupied one end of -the Mess, and beneath the sideboard a strip of baize made an ineffectual -attempt to cover the end of a beer barrel. - -"This," said the host, with a tinge of pride in his voice, "is the -Gunroom--where we live," he added. - -"It's very nice," murmured the visitors. - -"It's not a bad one, as Gunrooms go," admitted another of the escort. -He did not add that under his personal supervision a harassed throng of -junior Midshipmen had pent a lurid half-hour "squaring off" before their -arrival. - -After tea came a tour of the ship, and to those who inspect one for the -first time the interior of a man-of-war is not without interest. They -emerged from a hatchway on to the Quarter-deck, beneath the wicked -muzzles of the after 12-inch guns: they crossed the immaculate planking -and looked down to the level waters of the harbour, thirty feet below. -They admired the neatly-coiled boat's falls, the trim and slightly -self-conscious figure of the Officer of the Watch, and as they turned to -mount the ladder that led over the turret a Signalman came on to the -Quarter-deck, raising his hand to the salute as he passed through the -screen-door. - -"Who did that sailor salute?" inquired the Mother. - -"Oh," replied her escort vaguely, "only salutin' the Quarter-deck. We -all do, you know." So much for his summary of a custom that has -survived from days when a crucifix overshadowing the poop required the -doffing of a sailor's cap. - -Then they were taken forward, past the orderly confusion of the "booms," -to a round pill-box, described as the Conning Tower. with twelve-inch -walls of Krupp steel, and introduced to an assortment of levers and -voice-pipes, mysterious dials, and a brass-studded steering-wheel. Then -up a ladder to the signal-bridge, where barefooted men, with skins -tanned brick-red and telescopes under their arms, swung ceaselessly to -and fro. They examined the flag-lockers--each flag rolled neatly in a -bundle and stowed in a docketed compartment--the black-and-white -semaphores, and the key of the mast-head flashing lamp that at night -winked messages across five miles of darkness. - -From then onwards that afternoon became a series of blurred impression -of things mysterious and delightfully bewildering. They carried away -with them memories of the swarming forecastle and batteries, where they -saw the sailor-man enjoying his leisure in his own peculiar fashion. Of -the six-inch breech-block that opened with a clang to show the spiral -grooved bore--rifled to prevent the projectile from turning -somersaults.... The younger girl wiped a foot of wet paint off the -coaming of a hatch and said sweetly it didn't matter in the least. They -invaded the sanctity of the wireless room, with its crackling spark and -network of wires, and listened, all uncomprehending, to the petty -officer in charge, as, delighted with a lay audience, he plunged into a -whirl of technical explanations. And, lastly, the Mother was handed the -receivers, and heard a faint intermittent buzzing that was a ship -calling querulously three hundred miles away. - -After that they descended to electric-lit depths, and were invited into -cabins; they visited the "Slop-room" (impossible name), where they -fingered serge and duck with feminine appreciation. They saw the -nettings where the hammocks were stowed, and the overhead slinging -space--eighteen inches to a man! And so back to the upper deck, to find -the picket-boat again at the bottom of the ladder. - - * * * * * - -"Hasn't it been lovely!" gasped the elder girl, as they walked back to -their hotel. - -"Scrumptious!" assented her sister. "And _did_ you notice the boy who -steered the boat that brought us back?--he had a face like a cherub -looked at through a magnifying-glass!" - -Meanwhile, he of the magnified cherubic countenance was rattling dice -with a friend preparatory to indulging in a well-earned glass of -Marsala. Outside the gunroom pantry the grimy gentleman whose sphere of -duty lay in the picket-boat's stockhold sought recognition of his -services in an upturned quart jug. - -Which is also illegal, and contrary to the King's Regulations and -Admiralty Instructions. - - - - - *VIII.* - - *THE LEGION ON THE WALL.* - - -"Not now. Not now. Not yet." - --_Sea Law and Sea Power_. - - -The last of the Battle Squadrons filed majestically to its appointed -anchorage. A snake-like flotilla of Destroyers slid in under the lee of -the land and joined the parent ship; wisps of smoke east and west -heralded the arrival of far-flung scouts. The great annual War-game was -at an end, and the Fleet had met, with rime-crusted funnels and -rust-streaked sides, to talk it over and snatch a breathing space ere -returning to their wide sea-beats and patrols. Evening drew on, and the -semaphores were busy waving invitations to dinner from ship to ship. -Opportunities of meeting friends are none too frequent, and when they -occur, are often of the briefest. So no time was lost, and a sort of -"General Post" ensued among Wardrooms and Gunrooms. - -In the Flagship's Wardroom dinner was over, and a haze of tobacco smoke -spread among the shaded lights and glinting plate. Conversation that -began with technical discussion had become personal and reminiscent. "Do -you remember that time..." commenced one. His immediate listeners -nodded delightedly, and sat with narrowed eyes and retrospective smiles -as the narrator continued, twirling the stem of his wine-glass. Well -did they recall the story, but it had to be told again for the joy of -the telling, while they supplemented with a forgotten name or incident, -harking back to the golden yesterday, when the world went very well -indeed. The talk swung north to the Bering Sea and south to Table Bay, -forging swift links with the past as it went. It would have seemed to a -stranger as if the members of a club had met to discuss a common -experience. And yet these men were here haphazard from a dozen -ships--their club the Seven Seas, and their common experience, life, as -it is to be met in the seaports of the world. As chairs were pushed -from the table and the evening wore on, fresh greetings sounded on all -sides: "Hullo! Old Tubby, as I live! Good Lord! How long is it -since--seven--nine--my dear soul! It's ten weary years..." and so on. -They were all young men, too: almost boys, some of them, with eager, -excited faces, lean with hard work--worthy sons of the same grey, hard -Mother. - -Through the skylight came the opening bars of the "Lancers," and there -was a general move on deck. The Gunroom was there already, and, two -sets being formed, the dance began. Much it left in point of elegance, -it is to be feared, but it was fine strenuous exercise. The last figure -was reached, and on completion of the Grand-Chain, the two sets linked -arms, dashed whooping across the deck, and met in an inextricable heap -of arms, legs, crumpled shirt-fronts and mess-jackets. - -"Oh, my aunt!" gasped an ex-International, crawling from beneath a mound -of assailants, and vainly striving to adjust collar and tie. "My last -boiled shirt--and it's got to last another week!" - -Presently every one repaired to the Wardroom, where corks were popping -from soda-water bottles, and an amateur humourist of renown sat down to -the piano as the laughing crowd gathered round. A couple of -bridge-tables were made up, and the players settled down with that -complacent indifference to outside distraction peculiar to men who live -habitually in crowded surroundings. Seated astride the chairs at one end -of the mess, two teams of would-be polo-players were soon locked in -conflict, table-spoons and an orange being accessories to the game. - -The singer of comic songs had finished his repertoire, and the Mess -turned in search of fresh distraction. "Come on, old Mouldy, what about -putting up your little turn?" called out one, addressing a grave-faced -officer who sat smoking on the settee. "Yes," chorussed half a dozen -voices, "go on, do!" The officer addressed as "Mouldy" sat down at the -piano, fingered the keys contemplatively for a moment, and then in a -deep baritone voice began-- - - "God of our fathers, known of old, - Lord of our far-flung battle line," - -and so on to the end of the first verse. The polo-players ceased their -horseplay, and leaned panting over the backs of their wooden steeds to -listen. The second verse drew to a close-- - - "An humble and a contrite heart," - -and then the group round the singer joined in the refrain-- - - "Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, - Lest we forget, lest we forget!" - -At the fourth verse the Mess clustered round the piano. The -bridge-players had laid their hands down, and at the skylight overhead -appeared faces and the glint of uniforms. The Gunroom started the last -verse, and the rest joined--men's voices, bass and tenor, lifting the -stately words in a great volume of harmony up through the skylight into -the night-- - - "All valiant dust that builds on dust, - And guarding calls not thee to guard, - For frantic boast and foolish word - Thy mercy on thy people, Lord! - Amen!" - -The last solemn chord died away, and a sudden silence fell upon the -Mess: it was some moments before the conversation once more became -general. By twos and threes the guests departed. Groups clustered at -the gangways; the night was full of farewells and the hooting of -picket-boats' syrens. Gradually the Mess emptied, and in the flat where -the midshipmen slept silence reigned among the chests and hammocks. The -Admiral's guests had also departed, but on the silent quarter-deck two -tall figures walked up and down, pipes in mouth. - -"I wonder why they sang that thing," said one musingly. His companion -paused and stared across the water at the lights of the town. From -there his gaze travelled round to the silent Fleet, line after line of -twinkling anchor-lights and huge hulls looming through the darkness. -"Somehow, it seemed extraordinarily appropriate, with things as they are -ashore just now." - -"You mean all these strikes and rioting--class-hatred--this futile -discussion about armaments--brawling in Parliament.... 'Lesser breeds -without the law' gradually assuming control....?" - -The other nodded and turned again to the sea; as he moved, a row of -miniature decorations on his jacket made a tiny clink. "Yes. And -meanwhile we go on just the same, talking as little as they will let -us--just working on our appointed task: holding to our tradition of -'Ready, Aye Ready!'" - -"Our tradition--yes." His companion gave a little grim laugh. "D'you -know the story of the last Legion left on the Wall--?" he jerked his -head towards where the Pole Star hung in the starry heavens. "How Rome, -sliding into Chaos, withdrew her Legions till only one was left to -garrison the Wall. And it was forgotten. Rumours must have reached the -fellows in that Legion of what was going on at Home: of blind folly in -high places--corruption: defeat. The draggle-tailed Roman Eagle must -have been a jest in the market-places of the world." - -He paused, puffing thoughtfully. "You can imagine them," he continued, -"falling back, tower by tower, on the centre: attacked in front and -behind and on both flanks by an enemy they despised as barbarians, but -who, by sheer force of numbers, must annihilate them in the end--unless -Rome rallied, suppose they could have retreated--or -compromised,--haggled for their skins. No one would have thought less -of them for it in those days. But they had been brought up in all the -brave traditions of their Empire.... When you think of it, there wasn't -much left to fight for, except their proud traditions. And yet they -fought to the last ... while the Roman Empire went fiddling into ruin." - -Far away down the line a mast-head lamp flickered a message out of the -darkness. The Fleet was resting like a tired giant; but the pin-point -of light, and another that answered it on the instant a mile away, -showed that its sleep was light. "But the end is not yet," concluded -the speaker. - -"No," replied his companion. He made a little gesture with his -pipe-stem, embracing the silent battle-array stretching away into the -night. "Not yet." - - - - - *IX.* - - *A TITHE OF ADMIRALTY* - - -It was the hour preceding dinner, and a small boy in the uniform of a -Naval Cadet stood on the balcony of an hotel at Dartmouth. - -Earlier in the day a tremendous self-importance had possessed his soul; -it was begotten primarily of brass buttons and a peaked cap, and its -outward manifestation at Paddington Station had influenced a -short-sighted old lady in her decision that he was a railway official of -vast, if premature, responsibilities. He leaned over the balustrade and -looked up harbour; beyond the scattered yachts and coal-hulks, black -against the path of the sunset, lay the old _Britannia_. She was -moored, this cradle of a generation's Naval destiny, where the Dart -commenced to wind among green hills crowned by woods and red-brown -plough lands; and as he stared, the smaller vanities of the morning -passed from him. - -He was barely fifteen, and his ideas were jumbled and immature, but in a -confused sort of way he thought of the thousands of other boys those -wooden walls had sheltered, and who, at the bidding of unknown powers, -had gone down to the sea in ships. - -He pictured them working their pinnaces and cutters--as he would some -day--soaked and chilled by winter gales. Others departed for the -Mediterranean, where, if the testimony of an aunt (who had once spent a -winter at Malta) was to be accepted, life was all picnics and dances. -He saw them yet farther afield, chasing slavers, patrolling -pirate-infested creeks, fighting through jungle and swamp, lying stark -beneath desert stars, ... and ever fresh ones came to fill the vacant -places, bred for the work--even as he was to be--on the placid waters of -the Dart, amid Devon coombes. It was all a little vainglorious, -perhaps; and if his imagination was coloured by the periodicals and -literature of boyhood, who is to blame him? - -Why it was necessary for these things to be he understood vaguely, if at -all. But in some dim way he realised it was part of his new heritage, a -sort of brotherhood of self-immolation and hardship into which he was -going to be initiated. - -His thoughts went back along the path of the last few years that had -followed his father's death. With a tightening of the heart-strings he -saw how an Empire demands other sacrifices. How, in order that men -might die to martial music, must sometimes come first an even greater -heroism of self-denial. Years of thrift and contrivance, new clothes -foresworn, a thousand renunciations--this had been his mother's part, -that her son might in time bear his share of the Empire's burden. - -She came out on to the balcony as the sun dipped behind the hills, and -the woods were turning sombre, and slipped a thin arm inside his. It is -rarely given to men to live worthy of the mothers that bore them; a -few--a very few--are permitted to die worthy of them. Perhaps it was -some dim foreknowledge of the end that thrilled him as he drew her -closer. - -They had dinner, and with it, because it was such a great occasion, a -bottle of "Sparkling Cider," drunk out of wine-glasses to the -inscrutable Future. Another boy was dining with his parents at a -distant table, and at intervals throughout the meal the embryo admirals -glanced at one another with furtive interest. After dinner the mother -and son sat on the balcony watching the lights of the yachts twinkling -across the water, and talked in low voices scarcely raised above the -sound of the waves lapping along the quay. At times their heads were -very close together, and, since in the star-powdered darkness there were -none to see, their hands met and clung. - -She accompanied him on board the following day, to be led by a -grave-faced Petty Officer along spotless decks that smelt of tar and -resin. She saw the chest-deck, where servants were slinging hammocks -above the black-and-white painted chests--the chest-deck with its wide -casement ports and rows of enamelled basins, and everywhere that smell -of hemp and scrubbed woodwork. - -"Number 32, you are, sir," said the Petty Officer; and as he spoke she -knew the time had come when her boy was no longer hers alone. - -They bade farewell by the gangway, under the indifferent eyes of a -sentry, and Number 32 watched the frail figure in the waterman's boat -till it was out of sight. Then he turned with a desperate longing for -privacy--anywhere where he could go and blubber like a kid. But from -that time onwards (with the rare exceptions of leave at home) he was -never to know privacy again. - - - - *II.* - - -The old _Britannia_ training consisted of four terms, each of three -months' duration, during which a boy fresh from the hands of a tutor or -crammer had many things to learn. He was taught to "drop everything and -nip!" when called; how, when, and whom to salute. To pull an oar and -sail a boat; to knot, splice, and run aloft; how to use a sextant. He -learned that trigonometry and algebra were not really meaningless mental -gymnastics, but a purposeful science that guided men upon trackless -seas. In short, at an age when other schoolboys see their education -nearing its end, he had to begin all over again, to be moulded afresh -for a higher purpose. - -The path of the "New" in those days was by no means strewn with roses. -Jerry had to submit to strange indignities and stranger torments at the -hands of Olympian "Niners" (Fourth-term Cadets). He had to accustom -himself to bathe, dress and undress, to sleep and to pray, surrounded by -a hundred others. There was also the business of the hammock, in and out -of which he was learning to turn without dishonour. - -But the conclusion of the first breathless three months found him -amazingly fit and happy. His mind was stored with newly-acquired and -vastly interesting knowledge. The beagles and football sweated the -"callow suet" off him and gave him the endurance of a lean hound. He -was fitting into the new life as a hand into a well-worn glove. - -The end of his second term brought the coveted triangular badge on the -right cuff that marks the Cadet Captain among his fellows. The duties -(which are much the same as those of monitor or prefect) offered him his -first introduction to the peculiar essence we call tact, necessary in -dealing with contemporaries. About this time began his friendship with -Jubbs. This young gentleman's real name was as unlike his sobriquet as -anything could be; among a community of Naval Cadets this was perhaps a -sufficient _raison d'être_: anyhow none other was ever forthcoming. -They earned their "Rugger" colours together as scrum and stand-off -halves, and as time went on a slow friendship matured and knit between -them. Their first sight of each other had been in the hotel the evening -before joining. Thenceforward it pleased the power that is called -Destiny to run the brief threads of their lives together to the end. - -At the close of their third term they became Chief Cadet Captains, and -Jubbs' papa, a long, lean baronet with a beak-like nose, came down to -attend the prize-giving. At the conclusion of the ceremony he was -piloted to the Canteen, where the Cadet Captains were pleased to -"stodge" at his expense, while he--as one who sits at meat among the -gods--trumpeted his satisfaction into a flaring bandana handkerchief. - -At the end of the fourth and last term Jerry's mother came down to see -the last prize-giving, and thus was present when her son received the -King's Medal. For one never-to-be-forgotten moment she watched him turn -from the dais and come towards her, erect and rather pale, with -compressed lips. But the cheering broke from the throats of three -hundred inveterate hero-worshippers like a tempest, and then a mist hid -him from her sight. - - - - *III.* - - -A P. & O. liner, a few months later, carried Jerry and Jubbs to China. -During the voyage they came in contact with a hitherto unrecognised -factor in life, and found themselves faced with unforeseen perplexities. -One evening, as they leaned over the rail experimenting gingerly with -two cigars, Jubbs unburdened himself. "... Besides, they jaw such awful -rot," was his final summary of feminine allurements. Jerry nodded, -tranquil-eyed. "I know. I told Mrs What's-her-name--that woman with -the ear-rings--that I'd got one mother already; and as I'm going to -China, and she's going to India, I didn't see the use of being -tremendous friends. 'Sides, she's as old as the hills." - -Jerry! Jerry! The lady in question was barely thirty, even if she had -an unaccountable partiality for taking him into the bows to watch the -moon rise over the Indian Ocean. - -They joined their ship at Hong-Kong, and found themselves members of a -crowded, cockroach-haunted gunroom, where every one was on the best of -terms with every one else, and there reigned a communism undreamed of in -their philosophy. It is said that in those days of stress and novelty, -among unknown faces and unfamiliar surroundings, their friendship bound -them in ever-closer ties. The Sub-Lieutenant, when occasion arose for -the chastisement of one, thrashed the other out of sheer pity. They -kept watch, took in signal exercise, went ashore, shot snipe, picnicked -and went through their multifarious duties generally within hail of one -another. Till at length Jerry's call of "Jubbs!" and Jubbs' unfailing -"Coming!" brought half-wistful smiles to older eyes. - -The Boxer rising broke out like a sudden flame, and their letters home, -those voluminous and ill-spelt missives that meant so much to the -recipients, announced the momentous tidings. Jerry was landing in -charge of a maxim gun; Jubbs was to be aide-de-camp to the Commander. -Their whites were being dyed a warlike tint of khaki, and they were -being sent up to take part in the defence of Tientsin. For a while -silence, then at last a letter scrawled in pencil on some provision -wrappers. Jerry boasted a three-weeks' growth of stubble, and had -killed several peculiarly ferocious Boxer bravos. They were looking -forward to being moved up to Peking for the relief of the Legations, and -there was practically no danger as long as a fellow took reasonable -precautions. He had not seen Jubbs for some time, but expected to meet -him before long. - -As a matter of fact, they came together the next afternoon, and their -meeting-place was a Joss-house that had been converted into a temporary -field-hospital. Jerry was the first to arrive, "in the bight of a -canvas trough"--Jerry, very white and quiet, a purple-brown stain -spreading over his dusty tunic and a bullet lodged somewhere near the -base of the spine. Towards sunset he became conscious, and the Red -Cross nursing sister supported his head while he drank tepid water from -a tin mug. "'Sparkling Cider,'" he whispered weakly, "for luck, ... -thank you, mummie darling." - -The firing outside was becoming intermittent and gradually growing more -distant, when the patch of dusty sunlight in the doorway was darkened by -a fresh arrival. The stretcher party laid him on the bed next to Jerry -and departed. The Surgeon made a brief examination, and as he -straightened up, met the pitying eyes of the Red Cross sister. He shook -his head. - -"The poor children," she whispered. Outside there came a sudden renewal -of firing and the spiteful stammer of a maxim. It died away, and there -was silence, broken by the buzzing of flies in the doorway and the sound -of some one fighting for his breath. In the heavy air the sickly smell -of iodoform mingled with the odours of departed joss-sticks and -sun-baked earth. - -Suddenly, from a bed in the shadows, a weak voice spoke-- - -"Jubbs!" said Jerry. - -A moment's pause, while the motionless figure in the next bed gathered -energy for a last effort of speech. Then-- - -"Coming!" said Jubbs. - - - - - *X.* - - *THE CHOSEN FOUR.* - - -The Admiral, it was rumoured, had said, "Let there be Signal -Midshipmen." Wherefore the Flag-Lieutenant communed with the Commander, -who sent for the Senior Midshipman. - -The Senior Midshipman responded to the summons with an alacrity that -hinted at a conscience not wholly void of offence. - -"Let there be Signal Midshipmen," said the Commander, or words to that -effect, "in four watches." - -"Aye, aye, sir," said the Senior Midshipman. He emerged from the -Commander's cabin and breathed deeply, as one who had passed unscathed -through a grave crisis. Apparently that small matter of the -picket-boat's damaged stem-piece had been overlooked. - -Ere he was out of earshot, however, the Commander spoke again. "By the -way," added the Arbiter of his little destinies, "I don't want to see -your name in the leave-book again until the picket-boat is repaired." - -"Aye, aye, sir," repeated the Senior Midshipman. He descended to the -Gunroom, where, it being "make-and-mend" afternoon, his brethren were -wrapped in guileless slumber. An 'Inman's Nautical Tables,' lying handy -on the table, described a parabola through the air, and, striking a -prominent portion of the nearest sleeper's anatomy, ricochetted into his -neighbour's face. The two sat up, glowered suspiciously at each other -for an instant, and joined battle. The shock of their conflict -overturned a form, and two more recumbent figures awoke wrathfully to -"life and power and thought." - -"You four," announced the Senior Midshipman calmly, when the uproar had -subsided, "will take on signal duty from to-morrow morning." Then, -having satisfactorily discharged the duty imposed upon him, he settled -himself to slumber on the settee. - -Three of the four, to whom this announcement was made gasped and were -silent. _Signals_! Under the very eye of the Admiral! Each one saw -himself an embryo Flag-Lieutenant.... One even made a little prophetic -motion with his left arm, as though irked by the aiguilette that in -fancy already encircled it. The fourth alone spoke--- - -"Crikey!" he muttered, "an' my only decent pair of breeches are in the -scran-bag"[#] - - -[#] The "scran-bag" is the receptacle for articles of clothing, &c., -left lying about at First Lieutenant's rounds in the morning. Gear thus -impounded can be redeemed once a week by payment of a bar of soap. - - * * * * * - -Men say that with the passing of "Masts and Yards" the romance of the -Naval Service died. This is for those to judge who have seen a fleet of -modern battleships flung plunging from one complex formation to another -at the dip of a "wisp of coloured bunting," and have watched the stutter -of a speck of light, as unseen ships talk across leagues of darkness. - -The fascination of a game only partly understood, yet ever hinting vast -possibilities, seized upon the minds of the Chosen Four. Morse and -semaphore of course they knew, and the crude translations of the flags -were also familiar enough. But the inner mysteries of the science (and -in these days it is a very science) had not as yet unfolded themselves. - -At intervals the Flag-Lieutenant would summon them to his cabin, where, -with the aid of the Signal Books and little oblong pieces of brass, he -demonstrated the working of a Fleet from the signal point of view, and -how a mistake in the position of a flag in the hoist might result in -chaos--and worse. - -The Chosen Four sat wide-eyed at his feet amid cigarette ash and the -shattered fragments of the Third Commandment. - -Harbour watch-keeping perfected their semaphore and Morse, till by -ceaseless practice they could read general signals flashed at a speed -that to the untrained eye is merely a bewildering flicker. As time wore -on they began to acquire the almost uncanny powers of observation common -to the lynx-eyed men around them on the bridge. - -Each ship in a Fleet is addressed by hoisting that ship's numeral -pendants. The ship thus addressed hoists an answering pendant in reply. -At intervals all through the day the Signal Yeoman of the Watch would -suddenly snap his glass to his eye, pause an instant as the wind -unfurled a distant flutter of bunting at some ship's yard-arm, and then -jump for the halyard that hoisted the answering pendant. The smartness -of a ship's signal-bridge is the smartness of that ship, and in -consequence this is a game into which the stimulus of competition -enters, Signal Boatswain, Midshipmen, and Yeomen vying with each other -to be the first to give the shout, "Up Answer!" - -One night at the Junior Officers' Club one of the Chosen Four -encountered another of his ilk from a different ship: and, since at -eighteen (if you are ever to become anything) shop is a right and -necessary topic of conversation, they fell to discussing their -respective bridges. - -Presently said he of the other ship, waxing pot-valiant by reason of -Marsala, "I'll bet you a dinner ashore we'll show your pendants before -the week's up." - -Now should a ship fail to see a signal made to her, other ships present -can be very offensive by hoisting the pendants of the ship addressed at -mast-head and yard-arms. This is to hold the delinquent up as an object -of scorn and derision to the Fleet, and is a fate more dreaded by -right-minded signalmen than the Plagues of Egypt. - -"An' I'll give you fifteen seconds' grace," added the speaker. - -The challenge was accepted, and for five sweltering days--it was summer -at Malta--the two ships watched each other from sunrise till dark, the -pendants "bent" to the halyards in readiness. On the evening of the -sixth day a thunderstorm that had been brewing all the afternoon burst -in a torrential downpour over the harbour. At that instant a signal -crept to the flagship's yard-arm. - -On board the ship addressed the Midshipman had dashed for the shelter of -the bridge-house, the Yeoman was struggling into an oilskin, and the -Second Hand had stepped into the lee of a search-light. - -"Stand by--thirteen, fourteen..." counted the small figure standing in -the driving rain on the flagship's bridge, watch in hand: "fifteen, -Hoist!" Then for the first time in his short career he deserted his -post. Clattering pell-mell down the ladders to the Gunroom, where the -remainder of the Chosen Four were playing cut-throat whist, he flung -back the drab-coloured curtain. - -"Got him!" he shouted triumphantly. "By the aching stomach, I had him -_cold_!" - - * * * * * - -I have said that of the Chosen Four--three saw visions, while the other -bewailed the inaccessibility till the end of the week of his best -trousers. Now of the four he alone came to wear the aiguilettes of a -Flag-Lieutenant, and to-day the mysteries of Tactics, Fleet Organisation -and Formation, are to him as an open book. A Baker Street photographer -once had the temerity to display his photograph in the window, in -uniform, tinted. Passing by, I heard a woman gush foolishly to her -companion, "Oh, isn't he a darling!" - -The relevancy of this anon. - -Another forsook the bunting-draped path of Signals to climb to fame -through the smoke of many battle practices. He now adds after his rank -the cryptic initial (G). The third married an heiress and her -relations, and retired. He has several children and is reported to have -lost interest in the Service. - -The remaining one, when I saw him last, had also lost interest in the -Service. He was lying in a curiously crumpled heap across the stakes of -a jungle stockade, his empty revolver dangling by the lanyard round his -neck. A handful of his men fought like demons to recover possession of -the mutilated body. - -"Sure," said a bearded Petty Officer, half apologetically, wiping his -cutlass with a tussock of grass, "we couldn't lave him there--an' -himself somewan's darlin', likely..." - -Sailors are inveterate sentimentalists. - - - - - *XI.* - - *A COMMITTEE OF SUPPLY.* - - -The Junior Watch-keeper entered the Wardroom and rang the bell with an -air of gloomy mystery. - -"The Russians are coming," he announced. "Cocktail, please, waiter." - -The Young Doctor looked up from the year-old 'Bradshaw' with which he -was wont to enliven moments of depression by arranging mythical -week-ends at friends' houses in various parts of England. It was a -dreary amusement, and, conducted off the coast of Russian Tartary, -stamped him as the possessor of no small imaginative powers. - -"Who said so?" - -"Skipper: three Russian Destroyers, an' we're to invite them to dinner, -an' there's nothing to eat." The Junior Watch-keeper managed the -affairs of the Mess for that quarter. - -"Those chaps feed like fighting-cocks," observed the Assistant -Paymaster. "Let's send for the Messman." - -The Junior Watch-keeper applied himself to his cocktail in silence, and -the Celestial bandit who, in consideration of a monthly levy of thirty -dollars per head, starved or poisoned them according to his whim, -appeared in the doorway. The Mess broached the subject with quailing -hearts; it was proposed to dine the representatives of a foreign Power. -Could he for once rise to the occasion and produce a suitable repast? - -The Oriental summed up the situation with impassive brevity-- - -"No can do." - -"Oh, rot!" said the Junior Watch-keeper, who up to this juncture had -been gracefully pursuing the olive at the bottom of his glass with the -tip of his tongue. "Pull your socks up, Ah Chee, an' think of -something." - -The Messman brooded darkly. "S'pose you go shore-side, catchee salmon, -catchee snipe, pl'aps can do." - -"By Jove, yes," said the A.P., rising and walking to the scuttle. "We -never thought of that. But it's a God-forsaken place--look at it." - -The ship was anchored in a little bay off the mouth of a shallow river. -On one side the ground rose abruptly to a bleak promontory, and on the -other stretched a waste of sand-dunes. Inland not a tree or vestige of -human habitation broke the dreary expanse of plain, which was covered -with stunted bushes and rolled away to a range of low hills in the -distance. - -"All very fine to talk about salmon," said the Young Doctor, "but there -isn't a rod in the ship, and no one could use it if there was." - -"Make one," suggested the Junior Watchkeeper, with cheerful resource -begotten of cocktails. - -"But flies--? A rod's no good without flies and things." - -"I'll make a spinner. They won't take a fly in these parts, a fellow -told me at Shanghai. 'Sides, we can't chuck a fly." - -The Carpenter was summoned to the conclave, and the result of his -labours was a formidable spar, resembling more closely a hop-pole than a -salmon-rod, some fourteen feet in length. - -"Why not take the lower boom and have done with it?" inquired the Young -Doctor, who had abandoned 'Bradshaw' in favour of his gun-case, and was -dabbling with awful joy in oil and cotton-waste. - -The Junior Watch-keeper vouched no reply. His was the spirit of the -"Compleat Angler," and armed with a nippers and clasp-knife he wrestled -grimly with the lid of a tobacco-tin. Half an hour's toil, conducted in -profane silence, resulted in a triangular object which, embellished with -red bunting and bristling with hooks, he passed round for the startled -consideration of the Mess. - -"Well," admitted the Young Doctor, with the air of one generously -conceding a debatable point, "you _might_ catch the bottom, with a -certain amount of luck, but--" a well-flung cushion cut short further -criticism, and the Committee of Supplies adjourned. - -The rising sun next morning beheld three depressed-looking figures -disembarking on the sandy beach. The Junior Watch-keeper had fashioned -a wondrous reel out of pieces of a cigar-box, and the Boatswain had -provided about thirty fathoms of mackrel-line and some thin wire. The -A.P. essayed a joke about using the rod as a flagstaff to commemorate -their landing, but it lacked savour--as indeed jests do in the pale -light of dawn. Wreaths of mist hung over the river, swirling between -sandy banks, leaden-grey and noiseless. A few gulls wheeled overhead, -protesting at the invasion with dismal cries, and the waves broke -whispering along the beach in an arc of foam. - -The three adventurers gazed despondently at the sand-dunes, the receding -stern of the boat, and finally each other's sleepy, unshaven faces. The -Young Doctor broke suddenly into a feeble cackle of laughter. An -unfamiliar chord of memory vibrated, and with it came a vision of a -certain coffee-stall outside Charing Cross Station and the Junior -Watch-keeper's wan face surmounted by a battered opera-hat. "Jove!" he -murmured. "... Reminds me ... Covent Garden Ball...!" - -The A.P. had toiled to the top of an adjacent mound, from which, like -Moses of old, he "surveyed the landscape o'er." "Come on," he shouted -valiantly. - -"Well," said the Junior Watch-keeper, "_Vive le sport_! If there were -no fools there'd be no fun." He shouldered his strange impedimenta and -joined the A.P. - -Away to their left a glint of water showed intermittently as the river -wound between clumps of low bushes and hillocks. Patches of level -ground covered with reeds and coarse grass fought with the sand-dunes, -and stretched away in dreary perspective to the hills. Briefly they -arranged their plan of campaign: the Junior Watch-keeper was to fish -up-stream, the other two meeting him about five miles inland in a couple -of hours' time. They separated, and the Junior Watchkeeper dipped -behind a rise and was lost to view. - -It is not recorded what exactly the snipe were doing that day. The -Young Doctor had it that they were "taking a day off," the A.P. that -they had struck the wrong part of the country. But the melancholy fact -remains that two hours later they sat down to share their sandwiches -with empty bags and clean barrels. A faint shout from out of the -distance started them again into activity. - -"He's fallen in," suggested the Young Doctor with cheerful promptitude. - -"Sat on the hook, more likely." There was grim relish in the A.P.'s -tone. Neither was prepared for the spectacle that met their astonished -eyes when they reached the river. - -Standing on a partly submerged sand-bank, in the middle of the stream, -dripping wet and "full of strange oaths," was the Junior Watchkeeper. -The point of his rod was agitated like the staff of a Morse signaller's -flag, while a smother of foam and occasional glimpses of a silver belly -twenty yards up-stream testified that the age of miracles had not yet -passed. - -"Play him, you fool!" yelled the A.P. - -"Can't," wailed the Junior Watch-keeper, battling with the rod. "The -reel's jammed!" - -"Look out, then!" shouted the Young Doctor, and the safety-catch of his -gun snapped. "Let me have a shot----" - -But the Junior Watch-keeper had abandoned his rod. Seizing the stout -line in his fingers, his feet braced in the yielding sand, shamelessly -he hauled the lordly fish, fighting, to his feet. "Come on," he -spluttered, "bear a hand, you blokes!" The "blokes" rushed into the -shallows, and together they floundered amid a tangle of line and showers -of spray, grabbing for its gills. Eventually it was flung ashore, and -the _coup de grâce_ administered with the butt-end of the A.P.'s gun. - -"Thirty pounds, if it's an ounce," gasped the Junior Watch-keeper, -wringing the water out of his trousers. They stood and surveyed it in -amazed silence, struck dumb with the wonder of the thing. Contrasted -with the salmon as they knew it--decorated with sprigs of fennel on a -fishmonger's slab--it looked an uncouth creature, with an underhung jaw -and a curiously arched back. The A.P. prodded it suspiciously with the -toe of his boot. - -"'S'pose it's all right--eh? Clean run, an' all the rest of it?" - -"Course it is," replied the Junior Watchkeeper indignantly. He knew no -more about its condition than the other two, but his was all the pride -of capture. He relieved the tedium of the return journey with tales of -wondrous salmon that lurked in pools beneath the bank; unmoved they -listened to outrageous yarns of still larger salmon that swam in -open-mouthed pursuit of the home-made spinner, jostling each other by -reason of their numbers. The Junior Watch-keeper had set out that -morning an honourable man, who had never angled for anything larger than -a stickleback in his life. He returned at noon hugging a thirty-pound -salmon, his mouth speaking vanity and lies. - -"An' I nearly shot the damn thing," sighed the Young Doctor at the close -of the recital. - -"What _did_ you shoot, by the way?" asked the Junior Watch-keeper -loftily. - -"Nothing," was the curt reply, and his cup of happiness ran over. - - * * * * * - -The principal guest of the evening eyed a generous helping of salmon -that was placed in front of him, and turned to his neighbour. "Pardon -me," he said courteously, "but does this fish happen to have been caught -in any of the local rivers?" - -All eyes turned to the Junior Watchkeeper, who, prevented by a mouthful -from replying, sat breathing heavily through his nose. "Because if it -was," went on the Russian, "I think I ought to warn you--at the risk of -giving you offence--that local salmon are poisonous. That is, unfit for -human consumption." - -Followed an awful silence. The Young Doctor broke it. "How -interesting," he observed feebly; "but why?" - -The Russian shook his head. "I don't really know. And I hope you will -forgive me for assuring you that they are dangerous to the health." - -"Oh," said the captor faintly, "I've eaten my whack!" - -The remainder of the dinner was not, gastronomically speaking, a -success. The Mess and their guests eyed one another at intervals with -furtive apprehension, much as Cleopatra's poisoned slaves must have -awaited the appearance of each other's symptoms. But it was not until -some hours later that the Young Doctor was awakened by some one calling -his name aloud. He sat up in his bunk and listened, and presently it -was borne upon him that somewhere, in the stillness of the night, -watches, the Junior Watch-keeper was dreeing his weird. - - - - - *XII.* - - *THAT WHICH REMAINED.* - - -Oddly enough, no record exists of the origin of his nickname. -"Periwinkle" he had been all through crammer and _Britannia_ days. As -senior Signal Midshipman of the Mediterranean Flagship, he was still -"The Periwinkle," small for his years, skinny as a weasel, with straight -black hair, and grey eyes set wide apart in a brown face; the eyelashes, -black and short, grew very close together, which gave him the perpetual -appearance of having recently coaled ship and neglected to clean the -dust from his eyes. - -The Signal Midshipmen of a fleet, especially the Mediterranean Fleet of -those days, were essentially keen on their "job." The nature of the -work and inter-ship rivalry provided for that. But with the Periwinkle, -Signals were more than a mere "job." They formed his creed and -recreation: the flag-lockers were tarpaulin-covered shrines; the -semaphores spoke oracles by day as did the flashing lamps by night. And -the high priest of these mysteries was the Flag-Lieutenant, a Rugby -International and right good fellow withal, but, to the Periwinkle, a -very god who walked among men. - -To understand something of his hero-worship you would need to have been -on the bridge when the Fleet put out to sea for tactics. It was -sufficient for the Periwinkle to watch this immaculate, imperturbable -being snap out a string of signals apparently from memory, as he so -often did, while hoist after hoist of flags leaped from the lockers and -sped skywards, and the bridge was a whirl of bunting. Even the Admiral, -who spoke so little and saw so much, was in danger of becoming a mere -puppet in the boy's sight. - -But there was more than this to encourage his ardour. The -Flag-Lieutenant, recognising the material of a signalman of unusual -promise, would invite the Periwinkle to his cabin after dinner and -unfold, with the aid of printed diagrams and little brass oblongs -representing ships, the tactical and strategical mysteries of his craft. -There was one unforgettable evening, too, when the Periwinkle was bidden -to dinner ashore at the Malta Club. The dinner was followed by a dance, -whereat, in further token of esteem, the Flag-Lieutenant introduced him -to a lady of surpassing loveliness--The Fairest (the Periwinkle was -given to understand) of All the Pippins. - -The spring gave place to summer, and the island became a glaring -wilderness of sun-baked rock. For obscure reasons of policy the Fleet -remained at Malta instead of departing on its usual cruise, and week -after week the sun blazed pitilessly down on the awnings of the anchored -ships. Week by week the Periwinkle grew more brown and angular, and -lost a little more of his wiry activity. The frequent stampedes up and -down ladders with signals for the Admiral sent him into a lather like a -nervous horse; at the end of a watch his hair was wet with perspiration -and his whites hung clammily on his meagre limbs. After a while, too, -he began to find the glare tell, and to ease the aching of his eyes, had -sometimes to shift the telescope from one eye to the other in the middle -of a signal. As a matter of fact, there was no necessity for him to -read signals at all: that was part of the signalman's duty. And if he -had chosen to be more leisurely in his ascent and descent of ladders, no -one would have called him to account. But his zeal was a flame within -him, and terror lest he earned a rebuke from the Flag-Lieutenant for -lack of smartness, lent wings to his tired heels. - -It was August when the Flag-Lieutenant sought out the Fleet Surgeon in -the Wardroom after dinner, and broached the subject of the Periwinkle. - -"P.M.O., I wish you'd have a look at that shrimp; he's knocking himself -up in this heat. He swears he's all right, but he looks fit for nothing -but hospital." - -So the Periwinkle was summoned to the Fleet Surgeon's cabin. Vehemently -he asserted that he had never felt better in his life, and the most the -fatherly old Irishman could extort from him was the admission that he -had not been sleeping particularly well. As a matter of fact he had not -slept for three nights past; but fear lest he should be "put on the -list" forbade his admitting either this or the shooting pain behind his -eyes, which by now was almost continual. The outcome of the interview, -however, was an order to turn in forthwith. Next morning the Periwinkle -was ignominiously hoisted over the side in a cot--loudly protesting at -the indignity of not even being allowed to walk--en route for Bighi -Hospital as a fever patient. - - - - *II.* - - -The news of the world is transmitted to Naval Stations abroad by cable, -and promulgated by means of Wireless Telegraphy to ships cruising or out -of reach of visual signalling. At Malta the news is distributed to -ships present in harbour by semaphore from the Castile, an eminence -above the town of Valletta, commanding the Grand Harbour and nearly -opposite the Naval Hospital. - -One morning a group of convalescents were sunning themselves on the -balcony of the hospital, and one, watching the life of the harbour -through a telescope, suddenly exclaimed, "Stand by! They're going to -make the Reuter Telegram. I wonder how the Navy got on at Lords." - -"It's hopeless trying to read it," said another, "they make it at such a -beastly rate." - -The Periwinkle, fuming in bed in an adjacent ward, overheard the -speaker. In a second he was on his feet and at the open window, a -tousled-haired object in striped pyjamas, crinkling his eyes in the -glare. "I can read it, sir; lend me the glass." - -"You ought to be in bed, my son. Haven't you got Malta Fever?" - -"It's very slight," replied the Periwinkle--as indeed it was,--"and I'm -quite as warm out here as in bed. May I borrow your glass?" - -He took the telescope and steadied it against a pillar. The distant -semaphore began waving, and the group of convalescents settled down to -listen. But no sound came from the boy. He was standing with the -eye-piece held to his right eye, motionless as a statue. A light wind -fluttered the gaudy pyjamas, and their owner lowered the glass with a -little frown, half-puzzled, half-irritated. - -"I--it's--there's something wrong--" he began, and abruptly put the -glass to his left eye. "Ah, that's better...." He commenced reading, -but in a minute or two his voice faltered and trailed off into silence. -He changed the glass to his right, and back to his left eye. Then, -lowering it, turned a white scared face to the seated group. "I'm -afraid I can't read any more," he said in a curiously dry voice; "I--it -hurts my eyes." - -He returned the glass to its owner and hopped back into bed, where he -sat with the clothes drawn up under his chin, sweating lightly. - -After a while he closed his left eye and looked cautiously round the -room. The tops of objects appeared indistinctly out of a grey mist. It -was like looking at a partly fogged negative. He closed his right eye -and repeated the process with the other. His field of vision was clear -then, except for a speck of grey fog that hung threateningly in the -upper left-hand corner. - -By dinner-time he could see nothing with the right eye, and the fog had -closed on half the left eye's vision. - -At tea-time he called the Sister on duty-- - -"My eyes--hurt ... frightfully." Thus the Periwinkle, striving to hedge -with Destiny. - -"Do they?" sympathised the Sister. "I'll tell the Surgeon when he comes -round to-night, and he'll give you something for them. I shouldn't read -for the present if I were you." - -The Periwinkle smiled grimly, as if she had made a joke, and lay back, -every nerve in his body strung to breaking-point. - -"Can't see, eh?" The visiting Surgeon who leaned over his bed a few -hours later looked at him from under puzzled brows. "Can't see--d'you -mean...." He picked up an illustrated paper, holding it about a yard -away, and pointed to a word in block type: "What's this word?" - -The Periwinkle stared past him with a face like a flint. "I can't see -the paper. I can't see you ... or the room, or--or--anything.... I'm -blind." His voice trembled. - -To the terror by night that followed was added physical pain past -anything he had experienced or imagined in his short life. It almost -amazed him that anything could hurt so much and not rob him of -consciousness. The next room held a sufferer who raved in delirium: -cursing, praying, and shrieking alternately. The tortured voice rose in -the stillness of the night to a howl, and the Periwinkle set his teeth -grimly. He was not alone in torment, but his was still the power to -meet it like a man. - -By the end of a week the pain had left him. At intervals during this -period he was guided to a dark room--for the matter of that, all rooms -were dark to him--and unseen beings bandied strange technicalities about -his ears. "Optic neuritis ... retrobulbar ... atrophy." The words -meant nothing to the boy, and their meaning mattered less. For nothing, -they told him, could give him back his sight. After that they left him -alone, to wait with what patience he might until the next P. & O. -steamer passed through. - -His first visitor was the Chaplain, the most well-meaning of men, whose -voice quavered with pity as he spoke at some length of resignation and -the beauty of cheerfulness in affliction. On his departure, the -Periwinkle caught the rustle of the Sister's dress. - -"Sister," said the boy, "will you please go away for a few minutes. I'm -afraid I have to swear--out loud." - -"But you mustn't," she expostulated, slightly taken aback. "It's--it's -very wicked." - -"Can't help that," replied the Periwinkle austerely. "Please go at -once; I'm going to begin." - -Scandalised and offended--as well she might be--she left the Periwinkle -to his godless self, and he swore aloud--satisfying, unintelligible, -senseless lower-deckese. But when she brought him his tea an hour later -she found he had the grace to look ashamed of himself, and forgave him. -They subsequently became great friends, and at the Periwinkle's -dictation she wrote long cheerful letters that began: "My dear Mother," -and generally ended in suspicious-looking smudges. - -Every one visited the Periwinkle. His brethren from the Fleet arrived, -bearing as gifts strange and awful delicacies that usually had to be -confiscated, sympathising with the queer, clumsy tenderness of boyhood. -The Flag-Lieutenant came often, always cheerful and optimistic, -forbearing to voice a word of pity: for this the Periwinkle was -inexpressibly grateful. He even brought the Fairest of All the Pippins, -but the boy shrank a little from the tell-tale tremor she could never -quite keep out of her voice. Her parting gift was an armful of roses, -and on leaving she bent over till he could smell the faint scent of her -hair. "Good-bye," she whispered; "go on being brave," and, to his -wrathful astonishment, kissed him lightly on the mouth. - -There was the Admiral's wife too--childless herself--who, from long -dealings with men, had acquired a brusque, almost masculine manner. As -soon as he had satisfied himself that she evinced no outward desire to -"slobber," the Periwinkle admitted her to his friendship. He -subsequently confessed to the Sister that, for a woman, she read aloud -extremely well. "Well, I must be goin'," she said one day at parting. -"I'll bring John up to see you to-morrow." When she had gone, the -Periwinkle smote his pillow. "John!" he gasped. - -"John" was the Admiral. - -Even the crew of his cutter--just the ordinary rapscallion duty-crew of -the boat he had commanded--trudged up one sweltering Sunday afternoon, -and were ushered with creaking boots and moist, shiny faces into his -ward. - -"Bein' as we 'ad an arfternoon orf, sir," began the spokesman, who was -also the Coxswain of the boat. But at the sight of the wavering, -sightless eyes, although prompted by nudges and husky whispers, he -forgot his carefully-prepared sentences. - -"We reckoned we'd come an' give you a chuck-up, like, sir," concluded -another, and instead of the elaborate speech they had deemed the -occasion demanded, they told him of their victory in a three-mile race -over a rival cutter. How afterwards they had generously fraternised -with the vanquished crew,--so generously that the port stroke--"'im as -we calls 'Nobby' Clark, sir, if you remembers"--was at that moment -languishing in a cell, as a result of the lavish hospitality that had -prevailed. Finally, the Periwinkle extended a thin hand to the -darkness, to be gripped in turn by fourteen leathery fists, ere their -owners tiptoed out of the room and out of his life. - - - - *III.* - - -The Periwinkle found blindness an easier matter to bear in the ward of a -hospital than on board the P. & O. Liner by which he was invalided home. -A Naval Sick-berth Steward attended to his wants, helped him to dress, -and looked after him generally. But every familiar smell and sound of -ship-life awoke poignant memories of the ship-life of former days, and -filled him with bitter woe. He was morbidly sensitive of his blindness, -too, and for days moped in his cabin alone, fiercely repelling any -attempt at sympathy or companionship. Then, by degrees, the ship's -doctor coaxed him up into a deck-chair, and sat beside him, warding off -intruders and telling stories with the inimitable drollery that is the -heritage of the surgeons of P. & O. Liners. And at night, when the -decks were clear, and every throb of the propellers was a reminder of -the home they were drawing near to, he would link his arm loosely within -the boy's and together they would walk to and fro. During these -promenades he invariably treated the Periwinkle as a man of advanced -years and experience, whereby was no little balm in Gilead. - -Many people tried to make a fuss of the boy with the sullen mouth, whose -cheek-bones looked as if they were coming through the skin, and who had -such a sad story. Wealthy globe-trotters, Anglo-Indians, missionaries, -and ladies of singular charm and beauty, all strove according to their -lights to comfort him. But by degrees they realised he never wanted to -play cat's-cradle or even discuss his mother, and so left him in peace. - -But the boy had a friend beside the doctor, a grizzled major from an -Indian Frontier regiment, returning home on furlough with a V.C. tacked -on to his unpretentious name. At first the Periwinkle rather shrank from -a fresh acquaintance--it is a terrible thing to have to shake hands with -an unknown voice. But he was an incorrigible little hero-worshipper, and -this man with the deep steady voice had done and seen wonderful things. -Further, he didn't mind talking about them--to the Periwinkle; so that -the boy, as he sat clasping his ankles and staring out to sea with -sightless eyes, was told stories which, a week later, the newspaper -reporters of the Kingdom desired to hear in vain. - -He was a philosopher too, this bronzed, grey-haired, warrior with the -sun-puckered eyes: teaching how, if you only take the trouble to look -for it, a golden thread of humour runs through all the sombre warp and -woof of life; and of "Hope which ... outwears the accidents of life and -reaches with tremulous hand beyond the grave and death." - -This is the nicest sort of philosophy. - -But for all that it was a weary voyage, and the Periwinkle was a -brown-faced ghost, all knees and elbows and angularities by the time -Tilbury was reached. The first to board the ship was a lady, pale and -sweetly dignified, whom the doctor met at the gangway and piloted to the -Periwinkle's cabin. He opened the door before he turned and fled, and -so heard, in her greeting of the Periwinkle, the infinite love and -compassion that can thrill a woman's voice. - - * * * * * - -In a corner of the railway carriage that carried them home, the -Periwinkle--that maimed and battered knight--still clung to the haft of -his broken sword. "I meant to do so jolly well. Oh, mother, I meant -you to be so jolly proud of me. The Flag-Lieutenant said I might have -been ... if only it had been an arm or a leg--deaf or dumb ... but -there's nothing left in all the world ... it's empty--nothing remains." - -She waited till the storms of self-pity and rebellion passed, leaving -him biting his fingers and breathing hard. Then little by little, with -mysterious tenderness, she drew out the iron that had entered the boyish -soul. And, at the last, he turned to her with a little fluttering sigh, -as a very tired child abandons a puzzle. She bent her head low-- - -"This remains," she whispered. - - - - - *XIII.* - - *THE TIZZY-SNATCHER.* - - -In the beginning he was an Assistant Clerk--which is a very small potato -indeed; his attainments in this lowly rank were limited to an extensive -and intimate knowledge of the various flavours of gum employed in the -composition of envelopes. Passing straight from a private school, he -began life in the Gunroom of a sea-going ship, and was afraid with a -great amazement. - -The new conditions amid which in future he was to have his being -unfolded themselves in a succession of crude disillusionments. He found -himself surrounded by Midshipmen: contemporaries, but, as they took care -to remind him, men in authority--beings with vast, dimly conceived -responsibilities: barbarous in their manners, incomprehensive of speech. -To the pain of countless indignities was added the fear of personal -chastisement (had he not read of such things?), and, having been -delicately nurtured, it is to be feared that the days of his earlier -service were not without unhappiness. - -With the experience of a commission abroad, however, things began to -assume their proper perspective. He became a Clerk, R.N., and blossomed -into the dignity of a frock-coat and sword at Sunday morning Divisions, -whereby was no small balm in Gilead. - -Your Midshipman differs but little in point of thoughtless cruelty from -his brethren of "Quad" and school bench. But the mess-mates who -(obedient to the boyish dictates of inhumanity, and for the good of his -immortal soul) had chaffed and snubbed him into maturity, now -appreciated him for the even temper and dry sense of humour he acquired -in the process. - -Having mastered the queer sea-oaths and jargon of a Gunroom, he learned -to handle an oar and sail a boat without discredit. The Sub. took him on -deck in the dog-watches, and punched into him the rudiments of the art -of self-defence; and, lastly, under the tutorship of a kindly Paymaster, -he came to understand dimly the inner workings of that vast and complex -organisation that has its seat in Whitehall, by whose mouths speak the -Lords of Admiralty. - -His twenty-first birthday confronted him with the ordeal of an -examination, which, successfully passed, entitled him to a commission in -His Majesty's Fleet with the rank of Assistant Paymaster. - -For the next four years he continued to live in the Gunroom, where, by -reason of an alleged unholy intimacy with the King's Regulations and -Admiralty Instructions, his advice was commonly sought on questions -pertaining to the Service. His mode of speech had become precise--as -befitted a wielder of the pen in life's battle, and one versed in the -mysteries of Naval Correspondence. The ship's Office was his kingdom, -where he was Lord of the Ledgers, with a lack of tan on face and hands -that told of a sedentary life in confined spaces: not infrequently he -wore glasses. - -Some day he will become a Paymaster, warden of the money-chest, and -answerable for the pay, victualling, and clothing of every man on board. -The years will bring three gold rings to his cuff, a Fleet Paymaster's -grey hairs, and a nice perception between the digestible and otherwise -in matters of diet. - - * * * * * - -The A.P. leaned back in his chair and threw down his pen: in the glare -of the electric light his face looked white and tired. Beside him the -Chief Writer sat totalling a column of figures: on deck a bell struck -midnight. - -"What d'you make it?" asked the A.P. wearily. The Writer named a sum. - -"Penny out," replied the A.P. laconically, picking up his pen again. -Outside the Office door, where the hammocks of the guard were slung, a -Marine muttered in his sleep. - -The two great ledgers that lay open on the desk contained the names of -every man on board. They were duplicates, worked independently, and by -a comparison of the two mistakes could be detected and rectified. -Opposite the names were noted the credits of pay and allowances, -adjusted for different charges, the period borne, and all particulars -affecting the victualling of each man. - -"Ah!" The missing penny had been found. "It's in the account of that -confounded Ordinary Seaman who broke his leave and got seven days -cells," said the A.P. "No. 215." He gave a sigh of relief and closed -the ledger. Perhaps he experienced something of the satisfaction an -author might feel on writing the magic word "Finis." It was his -creation, every word and figure of it, working as irrevocably as Destiny -towards its appointed end: and on the morrow eight hundred men would -file past the pay tables, and in less than twenty minutes have received, -in coin or postal orders, the balance of pay due to them. - -"I'm going to turn in now," said the A.P. "We'll coin to-morrow." - -Now the coins on a Paymaster's charge are of certain -denominations--usually sovereigns, half-sovereigns, florins, shillings, -and sixpenny bits. Each man is paid, as a rule, to the nearest -shilling, and the odd pence, if any, are carried forward to the -succeeding quarter. Thus the pay due to a man is, say, £3, 19s. 4d. He -receives three sovereigns, a half-sovereign, four florins, and a -shilling; the four pence are brought on to the next ledger. A Paymaster -is thus enabled to foretell with some degree of accuracy the number of -coins that he must demand from time to time. - -Having coined the total amount to be paid out in wages, and ascertained -the number of coins of each denomination required, the pay-trays were -laid on the desk in the Office. Each tray was made up of compartments -large enough to hold a man's pay. - -The Paymaster divested himself of his coat, lit a pipe, and arranged -side by side the two bags containing sovereigns and half-sovereigns. The -A.P. similarly disposed of the florins and shillings, so that he could -reach them easily. They contained the exact total amount required for -the payment in the requisite coins. - -"Ready, sir?" he asked. - -"Right," said the Paymaster. - -The Chief Writer read out the amount due to the first man. Quick as a -flash the amount had clinked into the first division of the tray, both -officers making mental calculations as to the coins required. For the -next half-hour the only sounds in the Office were the voice of the Chief -Writer and the tinkle of the coins as each one was slipped into its -compartment. In an incredibly short time the piles of gold and silver -had melted away; as a tray was filled it was placed in a box and locked -up in readiness for the payment. The three faces grew anxious as the -piles dwindled and the number of empty compartments lessened.... The -last total was reached: the Paymaster threw down two sovereigns; the -A.P. added a florin and a shilling. The bags were empty: would it "pan -out"? - -"Two pounds three," read out the Chief Writer, craning his neck to see -the result. - -"Thank the Lord," murmured the A.P. - - * * * * * - -On the quarter-deck, facing aft, the ship's company were mustered: -seamen, stokers, artisans, cooks, and police, one after another, as -their names were called by the A.P., stepped briskly up to the pay -table, where the Captain and the Commander stood, scooped their wages -into their caps and hurried away. The Marines followed, receiving their -pay in their hands, with a click of the heels and a swinging salute. - -At the break of the forecastle an Ordinary Seaman stood regarding a few -silver coins in his grimy palm. Having broken his leave during the -month and been awarded cells in consequence, he had received -considerably less pay than usual--a penalty he had not foreseen and did -not understand. - -"Bloomin' tizzy-snatcher," he muttered, slipping the coins into his -trousers-pocket. - -He referred to the A.P. - - - - - *XIV.* - - *"C/O G.P.O."* - - -The bell above the door of the village post-office tinkled and the -Postmistress looked up over her spectacles. - -"Is it yourself, Biddy?" - -A barefooted country girl with a shawl over her head entered and shyly -tendered an envelope across the counter. - -"Can you tell me how much it will be, Mrs Malone?" she queried. There -was anxiety in the dark-blue eyes. - -The Postmistress glanced at the address. "Sure, it'll go for a penny," -she said reassuringly. - -"That's a terrible long way for a penny," said the girl. "Sure, it's a -terrible long way." - -From under her shawl she produced a coin and stamped the envelope. It -took some time to do this, because a good deal depended on the exact -angle at which the stamp was affixed. In itself it carried a message to -the recipient. - -"It's grand writin' ye've got," said the Postmistress, her Celtic -sympathy aroused. "An' himself will be houldin' it in his hands a month -from now." - -The girl blushed. "Father Denis is after learnin' me; an' please for a -bit o' stamp-paper, Mrs Malone," she pleaded softly, "the way no one -will be after opening it an' readin' it in them outlandish parts." It -was the seal of the poor, a small square of stamp-paper gummed over the -flap of the envelope. - -As she was concluding this final rite the bell tinkled again. A -fair-haired girl in tweeds, carrying a walking-stick, entered with a -spaniel at her heels. - -She smiled a greeting to both women. "A penny stamp, please, Mrs -Malone." She stamped a letter she carried in her hand, and turned the -face of the envelope towards the Postmistress. "How long is this going -to take getting to its destination?" - -The Postmistress beamed. "Sure, himself--" she began, and recollected -herself. "A month, me lady--no more." Outside, the girl with the shawl -over her head was standing before the slit of the post-box; the other -girl came out the next moment, and the two letters started on their long -journey side by side. As the two women turned to go, their eyes met for -an instant: the country girl blushed. They went their way, each with a -little smile on her lips. - - * * * * * - -The Destroyer, that for three hours had been slamming through a head -sea, rounded the headland and came in sight of the anchored Fleet. - -The Yeoman of Signals on the Flagship's bridge closed his glass with a -snap. "She's got mails for the Fleet," he called to the Leading -Signalman. "I'll report to the Flag-Lieutenant." As he descended to -the quarterdeck he met the Officer of the Watch. - -"Destroyer coming in with mails, sir." The Lieutenant's face -brightened; he called an order to the Boatswain's Mate, who ran forward -piping shrilly. "A-wa-a-ay picket-boat!" he bawled. - -The Flag-Lieutenant was reading in his cabin when the Yeoman made his -report. Snatching up his cap, he hastened in to the Admiral's -apartments. "Destroyer arriving with mails for the Fleet, sir." The -Admiral glanced at the calendar. "Ah! Eight days since we had the -last. Thank you." - -The Flag-Lieutenant poked his head inside the Secretary's Office. "Now -you fellows will have something to do--the mail's coming in!" - -"Thank you," replied the Secretary's Clerk. "But, Flags, _try_ not to -look quite so inanely pleased about it. She's probably forgotten all -about you by now." - -The Destroyer with rime-crusted funnels drew near, and men working on -the upper decks of the Fleet ceased their labours to watch her approach. -One of the side-party, working over the side in a bowline, jerked his -paint-brush in her direction. "If I don't get no letter this mail--so -'elp me I stops me 'arf pay," he confided grimly to a "Raggie," and spat -sententiously. In the Wardroom the married officers awoke from their -afternoon siesta and began to harass the Officer of the Watch with -inquiries. The news spread even to the Midshipmen's Schoolplace, and -the Naval Instructor found straightway that to all intents and purposes -he was lecturing on Spherical Trigonometry to deaf adders. - -With the eyes of the Fleet upon her, the Destroyer anchored at last, and -the Flagship's picket-boat slid alongside to embark the piles of bloated -mail-bags. As she swung round on her return journey the Yeoman on the -Flagship's bridge glanced down at a signal-boy standing beside the -flag-lockers, and nodded. Two flags leaped from the lockers and sped to -the masthead. Instantly an answering flutter of bunting appeared on -each ship. - -"Send boats for mails." The Flagship had spoken. - - * * * * * - -In Wardroom and Gunroom a rustling silence prevailed. Each new-comer as -he entered rushed to the letter-rack and hurriedly grabbed his pile of -letters: there is a poignant joy in seeing one's name on an envelope -twelve thousand watery miles away from home, no matter whose hand penned -the address. In some cases, though, it mattered a good deal. - -The Flag-Lieutenant retired to his cabin like a dog with a bone, and -became engrossed with closely-written sheets that enclosed several -amateur snapshots. One or two portrayed a slim, fair-haired girl in -tweeds; others a black spaniel. The Flag-Lieutenant studied them -through a magnifying-glass, smiling. - -The Admiral, busy over his private correspondence, was also smiling. He -had been offered another group of letters to tack after his name (he had -five already). The agent of his estate at home had a lot to say about -the pheasants.... His wife sprawled an account of life at Aix across -eight pages. He had been invited to be the executor of one man's will -and godfather to another's child. But a series of impressionist -sketches by his youngest daughter (_ætat._ 5), inspired by a visit to -the Zoo, was what he was actually smiling over. - -Up on the after-bridge the Yeoman of the Watch leaned over the rail and -whistled to the signal-boy. "Nip down to my mess an' see if there's a -letter for me." - -The boy fled down the ladder and presently returned with a letter. The -Yeoman took it from him and turned it over in his hands, scanning it -almost hungrily. - -The stamp was cryptically askew and the flap of the envelope ornamented -by a fragment of stamp-paper. - -"An' what the 'ell are _you_ grinnin' at?" he began. The boy turned and -scampered down the ladder into safety. The Yeoman of Signals stood -looking after him, the letter held in his hand, when a bell rang outside -the signal-house. He put his ear to the voice-pipe. The -Flag-Lieutenant was speaking. - -"Yes, sir?" - -"Make the following signal to the Destroyer that brought our mails-- - -"To Commanding Officer. Admiral requests the pleasure of your company -to dinner to-night at eight o'clock." - -"Aye, aye, sir." He turned away from the voice-pipe. "_An'_ 'e could -'ave my tot on top o' that for the askin'." - - - - - *XV.* - - *THE "LOOK-SEE."* - - - SOUTHEND, AUGUST 1909. - - -A bunting-draped paddle-steamer, listed over with a dense crowd of -trippers, thrashed her leisurely way down the lines. On the quarterdeck -of one of the Battleships the Midshipman of the Afternoon Watch rubbed -the lense of his telescope with his jacket cuff, adjusted the focus -against a stanchion, and prepared to make the most of this heaven-sent -diversion. Over the water came a hoarse roar of cheering, and, as she -drew near, handkerchiefs and flags fluttered along the steamer's rail. -The Lieutenant of the Watch, in frock-coat and sword-belt, paused beside -the Midshipman and raised his glass, a dry smile creasing the corners of -his eyes. - -"What's up with them all, sir?" murmured the boy delightedly. "My Aunt! -What a Banzai!" - -"Ever seen kids cheer a passing train? Same sort of thing." - -"But look at the girl in white; she's half off her chump--look at her -waving her arms.... Friend of yours, sir?" - -"No--only hysterical. The man with her is trying to make her stop." -The sailor laughed. "He's given it up ... now he's waving too--what -at?" He closed his glass. "Curious, isn't it?" - -The steamer passed on, and a confused burr of cheering announced that -she had reached the next silent warship. "It's all-same 'Maffick,'" he -continued presently, "Entente--Banzai--anything you like to call it. -An' when we've gone they'll come to their senses and feel hot all -over--like a fellow who wakes up and finds his hat on the gas-bracket -and his boots in the water-jug!" - -The Midshipman nodded: "I saw some kids dancing round a policeman once. -Made the bobby look rather an ass--though as a matter of fact I believe -he rather liked it. Bad for discipline, though," he added with the -austere judgment of eighteen summers. - -A launch bumped alongside, and a stout man in the stern-sheets shouted -for permission to come on board. - -"Do," said the Lieutenant gravely. The stout man took a valedictory -pull at a black bottle in the stern-locker, pocketed a handful of -shrimps for future consumption, and, accompanied by three feminine -acquaintances, laboriously ascended the ladder. They gazed stolidly and -all uncomprehending at the sleek barbette guns, the snowy planking -underfoot, over which flickered the shadow of the White Ensign, and -finally wandered forward through the screen-doors, where they were lost -to view among the throngs of sightseers. - -The afternoon wore on; every few minutes a launch or steamer swirled -past, gay with bunting and parasols. Many carried bands, and in the -lulls of cheering the light breeze bore the notes of martial, if not -strictly appropriate, music across the line. An Able Seaman paused in -his occupation of burnishing the top of the after-capstan, and passed -the back of his hand across his forehead. - -"Proper dizzy, ain't they?" he remarked in an undertone to a companion. -"Wot's the toon?" - -"Sons of the Muvverland," replied the other. He sucked his teeth -appreciatively, after the manner of sailor-men, and added, "Gawd! Look -at them women!..." - -A launch with a crimson banner, bearing the name of a widely-circulated -halfpenny paper, fussed under the stern. A man in a dingy white -waistcoat hailed the quarter-deck in the vernacular through a megaphone. - -"No, thank you," came the clear-cut reply; "we have to-day's papers." -The Lieutenant hitched his glass under his arm and resumed his measured -walk. "I'm no snob, Lord knows," he confided to the other, "but it -bores me stiff to be patted on the head by the halfpenny press-- -Sideboy! pick up those shrimps' heads that gentleman dropped." - -By degrees the more adventurous spirits found their way down between -decks, where, in a short time, the doorway of each officer's cabin -framed a cluster of inquisitive heads. In one or two cases daring -sightseers had invaded the interiors, and were examining with naïve -interest the photographs, Rugby caps, dented cups, and all the _lares -atque penates_ of a Naval Officer. - -"'Ere, Florrie!" called a flushed maiden of Hebraic mien, obtruding her -head into the flat, "come an' look!" She extended a silver photograph -frame,--"Phyllis Dare--signed an' all!" - -The other sighed rapturously and examined it with round-eyed interest. -Then she gazed round the tiny apartment. "_Ain't_ 'e a one! Look at 'is -barf 'anging on the roof!..." - -The harassed sentry evicted them with difficulty. - -"Better'n Earl's Court, this is," opined a stout lady, who, accompanied -by a meek-looking husband and three children, had subsided on to a -Midshipman's sea-chest. She opened the mouth of a string-bag. "Come on, -'Orace--you just set down this minute, an' you shall 'ave 'arf a -banana." - -A very small Midshipman approached the chest. "I hate disturbing you, -and Horace," he ventured, "but I want to go ashore, and all my things -are in that box you're sitting on--would you mind...?" - -"Ma!" shrilled a small boy, indicating the modest brass plate on the lid -of the chest they had vacated. "Look--" he extended a small, grubby -forefinger, "'e's a Viscount!" - -"Garn," snapped his father, "that's swank, that is. Viscounts don' go -sailorin'--they stops ashore an' grinds the faces of the poor, an' don' -forget what I'm tellin' of you." - -The Marine Sentry overheard. "Pity they don' wash 'em as well," he -observed witheringly. His duties included that of servant to the -Midshipman in question, and he resented the scepticism of a stranger who -sat on the lid of his master's chest eating cold currant pudding out of -a string-bag. - - * * * * * - -On the pier-head a dense perspiring crowd surged through gates and -barriers, swarmed outward into all the available space, and slowly -congested into a packed throng of over-heated, over-tired humanity. -Those nearest the rails levelled cheap opera-glasses at the distant line -of men-of-war stretching away into the haze, each ship with her -attendant steamer circling round her. An excursion steamer alongside -hooted deafeningly, and a man in a peaked cap on her bridge raised his -voice above the babel, bellowing hoarse incoherencies. A gaitered -Lieutenant clanked through the crowd, four patrol-men at his heels, -moving as men do who are accustomed to cramped surroundings. - -At the landing-stages, where the crowd surged thickest, the picket-boats -from the Fleet swung hooting alongside, rocking in the swell. As each -went astern and checked her way, the front of the excited throng of -sightseers bellied outward, broke, and poured across the boats in a wild -stampede for seats. They swayed on the edge of the gunwales, floundered -hobnailed over enamelled casings, were clutched and steadied on the -heaving decks by barefooted, half-contemptuous men. The Midshipmen -raised their voices in indignant protest: drunk and riotous liberty-men -they understood: one "swung-off" at them in unfettered language of the -sea, or employed the butt-end of a tiller to back an ignored command on -which their safety depended. But here was a people that had never known -discipline--had scorned the necessity for it in their own unordered -lives. The Midshipman of the inside pinnace jerked the lanyard of the -syren savagely. "Look at my priceless paintwork! look at--_That's_ -enough--no more in this boat--it's not safe! Please stand back, -it's--oh, d----!" - -A man, in utter disregard of the request, had picked up a child in his -arms and jumped on board, steadying himself by the funnel guys. "Orl -right, my son, don't bust yerself," he replied pleasantly. - - * * * * * - -An old woman forced her way through the crush towards the Lieutenant of -the Patrol, who with knotted brows was trying to grasp the gist of a -signal handed to him by a coastguard. - -"I want to see my 'usband's nephew," she explained breathlessly; "'e's -in 39 Mess." The Lieutenant smiled gravely. "What ship?" She named -the ship, and stood expectant, a look of confidence on her heated -features, as if awaiting some sleight-of-hand trick. There was -something dimly prophetic in the simple faith with which she voiced her -need. - -"I see. Will you excuse me a minute while I answer this signal, and -I'll send some one to help you find the right boat." - -A Petty Officer guided her eventually to the landing-place and saw her -safely embarked; he returned to find his Lieutenant comforting with -clumsy tenderness a small and lacrymose boy who had lost his parents, -turning from him to receive the reproaches of a lady whose purse had -been stolen. The two men exchanged a little smile, and the Petty -Officer edged a little nearer-- - -"'Arf an hour on the parade-ground at Whale Island,[#] sir, I'd like to -'ave with some of 'em," he confided behind a horny palm. The jostling -throng surged round him, calling high heaven to witness the might of its -possessions. - - -[#] The hotbed of Naval Discipline. - - -"_I'd_ make 'em 'op..." he murmured dreamily. - - - - - *XVI.* - - *"WATCH THERE, WATCH!"* - - -Dinner in the long, antler-hung mess-room of the Naval Barracks had come -to an end. Here and there along the table, where the shaded lights -glinted on silver loving-cups and trophies, a few officers lingered in -pairs over their coffee. Presently the band moved down from the gallery -that overlooked one end of the Mess, and began playing in the hall. -This was the signal for a general move to the smoking-room, where a -score of figures in mess undress uniform were grouped round the fire, -lighting pipes and cigars and exchanging mild, after-dinner chaff. - -A few couples of dancing enthusiasts were solemnly revolving in the -hall. Others made their way up the broad staircase to the -billiard-room, or settled down at the bridge tables. - -"Come on," shouted a tall Commander seated on the "club" fender in the -smoking-room, "what about a game of skill or chance? Come up to the -billiard-room, and bring your pennies!" He stirred a form recumbent in -an arm-chair with the toe of his boot. "What about you, young feller? -Are you going to play pool?" - -The young Lieutenant shook his head. "Not to-night, sir, thanks. I'm -going to bed early: I've got the Night Guard trip." - -Gradually the room emptied. The figure in the arm-chair finished the -paper he was reading, glanced at the clock and rose, knocking the ashes -out of his pipe. "Call me at 1.15," he said to the hall porter as he -passed him on his way to his room. - -An officer, immaculate in evening dress, who was putting his overcoat in -the hall, overheard the speaker, and laughed. "That's the spirit! -Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise!" - -"More'n you'll ever be, my sprig o' fashion," grumbled the Lieutenant, -and passed on. - - * * * * * - -The Lieutenant of the Night Guard went cautiously down the wooden steps -of the Barracks' Pier that led to the landing-place. Cautiously, because -the tide was low, and experience had taught him that the steps would be -slippery with weed. Also the night was very dark, and the lights of the -steamboat alongside showed but indistinctly through the surrounding fog. -At the bottom of the steps one of the boat's crew was waiting with a -lantern. Its rays lit for a minute the faces of the two men, and -gleamed on the steel guard of the cutlass at the bearer's hip. - -"Infernal night!" said the Lieutenant from the depths of his overcoat -collar. He had just turned out, and there was an exceeding bitterness -in his voice. The lantern-bearer also had views on the night--possibly -stronger views--but refrained from any reply. Perhaps he realised that -none was expected. The other swung himself down into the sternsheets of -the boat, and, as he did so, the Coxswain came aft, blowing on his -hands. - -"Carry on, sir?" - -"Please. Usual rounds: go alongside a Destroyer and any ship that -doesn't hail. Fog's very thick: got a compass?" - -"There's a compass in the boat, sir." The Coxswain moved forward again -to the wheel, wearing a slightly ruffled expression which, owing to the -darkness and the fact that there was no one to see it, was rather -wasted. For thirty years he'd known that harbour, man and boy, fair or -foul, and his father a waterman before him.... He jerked the telegraph -bell twice, gave a half-contemptuous turn to the wheel, and spat -overside. - -"Compass!" he observed to the night. - -The boat slid away on its mission, and the shore lights glimmered wan -and vanished in the fog astern. A clock ashore struck the hour, and -from all sides came the answering ships' bells--some near, some far, all -muffled by the moisture in the heavy atmosphere. - -Ding-ding! Ding! Half-past one. - -He who had borne the lantern deposited it in the tiny cabin aft, and -with a thoughtful expression removed a frayed halfpenny paper from the -inside of the breast of his jumper. To carry simultaneously a cutlass -and a comic paper did not apparently accord with his views on the -fitness of things, for he carefully refolded the latter and placed it -under the cushions of the locker. Then he unhooked a small megaphone -from the bulkhead, and came out, closing the sliding-door behind him. -Finally he passed forward into the bows of the boat, where he remained -visible in the glare of the steaming light, his arms crossed on his -chest, hands tucked for warmth one under each arm-pit, peering stolidly -into the blackness ahead. - -Once in mid-stream the fog lessened. Sickly patches of light waxed out -of indistinctness and gleamed yellow. Anon as they brightened, a human -voice, thin and lonely as a wraith's, came abruptly out of the night. - -"Boat ahoy!" The voice from nowhere sounded like an alarm. It was as -if the darkness were suddenly suspicious of this swiftly-moving, -palpitating thing from across the water. The figure in the bows removed -his hands from his arm-pits, picked up the megaphone, and sent a -reassuring bellow in the direction of the hail. - -"Guard Boat!" he answered, and as he did so a vast towering shape had -loomed up over them. "Answer's, 'Guard Boat!' sir," said the faint -voice somewhere above their heads, addressing an unseen third person. A -dark wall appeared, surmounted by a shadowy superstructure and a giant -tripod mast that was swallowed, long before the eye could reach its -apex, in vapour and darkness. The sleek flanks of guns at rest showed -for an instant.... A sleeping "Super-Dreadnought." It faded into the -darkness astern; then nothing but the mist again, and the throb of the -boat's engines. - -Another, and another, and yet another watchful Presence loomed up out of -the night, hailed suspiciously, and, at the megaphone's answering -bellow, merged again into the silent darkness. A figure stepped aft in -the Guard Boat and adjusted the tarpaulin that covered the rifles lying -on top of the cabin: moisture had collected among the folds in little -pools. Then the engine-room gong rang, and a voice quite near hailed -them. A long black shadow appeared abreast, and the Guard Boat slid -alongside a Destroyer at anchor. The dark water between the two hulls -churned into foam as the boat reversed her engines. A tall figure -holding a lantern leaned over the Destroyer's rail. - -"Night Guard," said the Lieutenant curtly. As he came forward, three men -climbed silently up from below and stood awaiting orders at his side. -The lantern shone unsteadily on their impassive faces. - -"Are you the Quartermaster?" - -"Yessir." The tall man in oilskins leaning over the Destroyer's rail -lowered his lantern. - -"All right, I won't come inboard. All correct?" - -"All correct, sir." - -"Right. Put it in the log that I've visited you. Good-night." - -"Good-night, sir." - -The gong clanged, and the Guard Boat slid away into the mist again. The -figure in the bows was relieved by a comrade, and together with the -remaining two vanished down the foremost hatch. The faint reek of Navy -tobacco drifted aft to the stern-sheets, where the Lieutenant of the -Night Guard had resumed his position, leaning against an angle of the -cabin with his hands deep in the pockets of his overcoat. He was -reflecting on the strangeness of a profession that dragged a man from -his bed at one o'clock in the morning, to steam round a foggy harbour in -the company of armed men, these times of piping peace. - -Once a night throughout the year, in every Dockyard Port in the kingdom, -a launch slid away from the Depot jetty, slipped in and out among the -anchored ships, and returned to her moorings when the patrol was -completed. Why? Some grim significance surely lay in the duty, in the -abrupt hails that stabbed the stillness, greeting the throb of her -engines: in the figure of the armed man in the bows with the megaphone, -ready to fling back the reassuring answer.... - -He shifted his position and glanced forward. The bowman was chewing -tobacco, and every now and again turned his head to spit overside. Each -time he did so the port bow-light lit his features with a ruddy glare. -It was a stolid countenance, slightly bored. - -The Lieutenant smiled gravely. Did the figure wonder why he wore a -cutlass in peace time? Did he realise the warning it embodied--the -message they conveyed night by night to the anchored ships? His -thoughts took a more sombre turn. Would the night ever come--just such -a night as this--and under the fog a Menace glide in among the blindfold -Fleet? To the first hail of alarm answer with a lever released, a -silvery shadow that left a trail of bubbles on the surface.... And -then--the fog and silence riven to the dark vault of heaven. - -He raised his head. "All right, Coxswain, enough for to-night. Carry -on back." Over went the helm: the boat swung round on a new course, -heading whence she had come an hour before. - -Carry on back! It was so easy to say. - -His thoughts reverted to the grim picture his imagination had created. -How would that shadowy Terror, her mission fulfilled, "carry on back"? -Wheel wrenched over, funnels spouting flame, desperate men clinging to -the rail as she reeled under the concussion, racing blindly through the -outraged night for safety. - -Thus had a warring Nation written a lesson across the map of Manchuria -for all the world to read--and, if they might, remember. - -Where did he come in, then--this figure leaning thoughtfully against the -angle of the steamboat's cabin? What was his mission, and that of the -steamboat with its armed crew, night after night, in fog and by -starlight, winter and summer...? - -A chord of memory vibrated faintly in his mind. There was a phrase that -summed it up, learned long ago.... He was a cadet again on the -seamanship-deck of the old _Britannia_, at instruction in a now obsolete -method of sounding with the Deep-Sea Lead and Line. They were shown -how, in order to obtain a sounding, a number of men were stationed along -the ship's side, each holding a coil of the long line. As the heavy -lead sank and the line tautened from hand to hand, each man flung his -coil overboard. As he did so he called to warn the next-- - -"Watch there, watch!" - -The steamboat, slowed as she passed close under the stern of a -battleship. The fog had lifted, and the Officer of the Middle Watch was -leaning over the quarter-deck rail. The Lieutenant of the Night Guard -raised his head, and in the gleam of the ship's stern light the two -officers recognised each other. They had been in the _Britannia_, -together. The former laughed a greeting. - -"Go back to bed, you noisy blighter!" - -The cloaked figure in the boat chuckled. "That's where I am going," he -called back. - - - - - *XVII.* - - *"FAREWELL AND ADIEU!"* - - -The Junior Watch-keeper paused at the corner of the street and smote the -pavement with the ferrule of his stick. - -"Lord!" he ejaculated, "to think this is the last night! Look at it -all...." Dusk had fallen, and with it a wet mist closed down on the -town. The lights from the shop windows threw out a warm orange glow -that was reflected off the wet pavements and puddles in the street. The -shrill voice of a paper-boy, hawking the evening paper, dominated all -other sounds for a moment. "Eve ... nin' Er-r-rald!" he called. Then, -seeing the two figures standing irresolute on the kerb, ran towards -them. - -"Evenin' 'Erald! sir? Naval 'Pointments, sir ... To-night's Naval -'Point----" - -The Lieutenant shook his head half impatiently, then added as if -speaking to himself, "No--not yet." It was such a familiar evening -feature of life ashore in a Dockyard Port, that hoarse, "jodelling" cry. -One bought the paper and glanced through the columns over a -gin-and-bitters at the Club. But this was the last night: every -familiar sensation and experience should be flavoured in their turn--ere -they two went hence and were no more seen! - -The Young Doctor at his elbow gave a curt laugh: "We shan't be very -interested in the Appointments to-morrow night, Jerry!" An itinerant -seller of violets drifted down the pavement and thrust his fragrant -merchandise upon them. - -"What shall we do first?" asked the Junior Watch-keeper. "Let's go and -have our hair cut and a shampoo." - -"I hate having my hair cut," pleaded the Surgeon. - -"Never mind: it's all part of the show. You won't get another chance of -talking football to a barber for years.... And that awful green stuff -that he rubs in with a bit of sponge--oh, come on!" - -Together they drifted up the familiar street, pausing to stare into shop -windows with a sudden renewal of interest that was half pathetic. A -jeweller's shop, throwing a glittering white arc of light across the -pavement arrested their progress. - -"I never realised before," mused the Surgeon, "how these fellows cater -for the love-lorn Naval Officer. Look at those brooches: naval crowns; -hat-pins made of uniform buttons, bracelets with flags done in -enamel--D-E-A-R-E-S--" he spelt out, and broke off abruptly, "Pouf! -What tosh!" - -The other was fumbling with the door-latch. "Half a minute, Peter, -there's something I've just remembered..." and vanished inside -muttering. The Young Doctor caught the words "some little thing," and -waited outside. The traffic of the street, a fashionable shopping street -in a Dockyard town at 6 P.M., streamed past him as he stood there -waiting. Girls in furs, with trim ankles, carrying parcels or Badminton -raquets, hurried along, pausing every now and again to glance into an -attractive shop window. Several tweed-clad figures, shouldering golf -clubs, passed in the direction of the railway station; one or two nodded -a salutation as they recognised him. Little pigtailed girls with tight -skirts enclosing immature figures, of a class known technically as the -"Flapper," drifted by with lingering, precocious stares. The horns of -the motors that whizzed along the muddy street sounded far and near. -They, together with the clang and rumble of tram-cars a few streets -away, and the voices of the paper-boys, dominated in turn all other -sounds in the mirky night air. The man with the basket of violets -shuffled past again, and left a faint trail of fragrance lingering. Long -after that night, in the uttermost parts of the earth he remembered it, -and the half-caught scent of violets, drifting from a perfume shop in -Saigon, was destined to conjure up for the Surgeon a vision of that -glittering street, with its greasy pavement and hurrying passers-by, and -of a pair of grey eyes that glanced back for an instant over their -owner's furs.... - -The Junior Watch-keeper reappeared, buttoning up his coat. "Sorry to -have kept you waiting, Peter," and fell into step beside his companion. - -Half an hour later they emerged from the hairdresser's establishment, -clipped and anointed as to the head. - -"Now," breathed the Lieutenant, "where to?" - -"Sawdust Club!" said the Surgeon. They crossed the road and turned up a -narrow passage-way. As they quitted the street, a diminutive boy, with -an old, wizened face and an unnaturally husky voice, wormed his way in -under the Young Doctor's elbow, "'Erald, sir? Latest, sir! Naval--" -The Surgeon slipped a sixpenny bit into his hand and took the proffered -paper, still damp from the press. They entered a long vault-like -apartment, its floor strewn with sawdust and long counters and a row of -wooden stools extending down each side. Behind the counters rose tiers -of barrels, and in one corner was a sandwich buffet, with innumerable -neat piles of sandwiches in a glass case. The place was crowded with -customers: a bull-dog sauntered about the floor, nosing among the -sawdust for pieces of biscuit. As the new-comers entered several of the -inmates, perched on their wooden stools, looked round and smiled a -greeting. - -"Ah-ha! Last night in England, eh?" - -"Yes," replied the Junior Watch-keeper, "the last night." He sniffed -the mingled aroma of sawdust, tobacco-smoke, and the faint pungent smell -of alcohol. "Good old pot-house! Good old Sawdust Club! Dear, dear, -curried egg sandwiches! ... _And_ a drop of sherry white-wine 'what the -orficers drinks'--yes, in a dock-glass, and may the Lord ha' mercy on -us!" - - * * * * * - -"And now," said the Young Doctor, "a 'chop-and-chips,' I think." - -"A mixed-grill," substituted the other. "Kidney and sausage and tomato -and all the rest of it. Oh yes, a 'mixed-grill.'" - -They entered swing-doors, past a massive Commissionaire, who saluted -with a broad smile. "They're askin' for you inside, sir," he whispered -jocularly to the Junior Watch-keeper. "Wonderin' when you was comin' -along.... Sailin' to-morrow, ain't you, sir?" - -Together the "last-nighters" descended a flight of carpeted stairs and -entered a subterranean, electric-lit lounge bar. A dozen or more of -Naval men were standing about the fireplace and sitting in more or less -graceful attitudes in big saddle-bag arm-chairs. The majority were -conducting a lively badinage with a pretty, fair-haired girl who leaned -over the bar at one end of the room. She smiled a greeting as the -new-comers entered, and emerged from her retreat. The Junior -Watch-keeper doffed his hat with a low bow and hung it on the stand. -Then he bent down, swung her into his arms, and handed her like a doll -to the Young Doctor, who in turn deposited her on the lap of a seated -Officer reading the evening paper. "Look what I've found." - -With a squeal she twisted herself to her feet and retreated behind the -bar again, her hands busy with the mysteries of hair-pins. - -"Hullo! hullo!" Greetings sounded on all sides. A tall -broad-shouldered figure with a brown beard elbowed his way through the -crush and smote the Junior Watch-keeper on the breast-bone. - -"Dear sakes! Where have you sprung from? I just come from the Persian -Gulf, and it's a treat to see a familiar face!" - -"We're off to China again to-morrow," said the other, a half-suppressed -note of exultation in his voice--"China-side again! Do you -remember...?" - -The bearded one nodded wistfully. "Do I not! ... You lucky devils.... -Oh, you lucky devils! Here, Molly----" - - * * * * * - -The waiter sought them presently with the time-honoured formula: "Your -grill's spoilin', gentlemen, please," and they took their places in the -mirror-walled grill-room, where the violins were whimpering some -pizzicato melody. A girl with dark eyes set a shade obliquely in a pale -face, seated at the grand piano, looked across as they entered and -smiled a faint greeting to the Young Doctor. - -"I think we're entitled to a voluntary from the pianist to-night," said -the other presently, his mouth full of mixed-grill. "What shall we ask -for?" - -The other thought for a moment. "There's a thing ... I don't know what -it's called ... it's like wind in the leaves--_she_ knows." He beckoned -a waiter and whispered. The girl with the pale face looked across the -room and for an instant met the eyes of the Young Doctor; then she ran -her fingers lightly over the keys and drifted into Sinding's -_Frühlingsrauschen_. - -The Surgeon nodded delightedly. "That's the thing.... Good girl. I -don't know what it's called, but it reminds me of things." He munched -cheerfully, pausing anon to bury his face in a tankard of beer, and they -fell to discussing prospects of sport up the Yangtse. Once or twice as -she played, the girl behind the piano allowed her dark eyes to travel -across the crowded grill-room over the heads of the diners, and her -glance lingered a moment at the table where the two "last-nighters" were -seated. The first violin, who was also a musician, sat with a rapt -expression, holding his fiddle across his knees. When the piece was over -he started abruptly--so abruptly it was evident that for him a spell had -broken. He looked up at the pianist with a queer, puzzled expression, -as if half-resentful of something. - -The Young Doctor was arranging forks and a cruet-stand in a diagram on -the table-cloth. "There was a joss-house here, if you remember, and the -guns were here ... the pigeon came over that clump of bamboo...." The -other, leaning across the table, nodded with absorbed interest. - -/TB - -The Lieutenant glanced at his watch. "Come along; we must be moving if -we're going to the 'Palace.'" They paid their bill, tipped the waiter -in a manner that appeared to threaten him with instant dislocation of -the spine, and walked up the tiled passage that led past the open door -of the lounge. From her vantage behind the bar inside, the girl some one -had addressed as "Molly" caught a glimpse of their retreating figures. -She slipped out through the throng of customers, most of whom had dined, -and were talking to each other over their port and liqueurs, into the -quiet of the corridor. - -"Jerry!" she called; "Mr----" - -"Lord!" ejaculated the Junior Watch-keeper, "I'd forgotten--" He turned -quickly on his heel. "Hullo, Molly! We're coming back presently. But -that reminds me..." he fumbled in his waistcoat pocket, and the Surgeon -strolled slowly on up the steps, round a bend, and was lost to view. - -The girl gave a little breathless laugh. "That's what you all say, you -boys. And you never do come back.... _You_ weren't going without -saying good-bye to me, were you?" - -"No, no, Molly, of course I wasn't: and look here, old lady, here's a -gadget I got for you--" he fumbled with the tissue paper enclosing a -little leather case. - -The girl stood with one hand on the lapel of his coat, twisted a button -backwards, and forwards. "Jerry, I--I wanted to thank you ... you were -a real brick to me, that time. It saved my life, goin' to the -Sanatorium, an' I couldn't never have afforded it...." Her careful -grammar became a shade confused. - -The man gave a little, deep laugh of embarrassment. "Rot! Molly, -that's all over and forgotten. No more nasty coughs now, eh?" He -patted her shoulder clumsily. - -"An' mind you drop me a line when that fathom of trouble of yours comes -up to the scratch, and send me a bit of wedding-cake--here, hang on to -this thing.... No, it's nothing; only a little brooch.... Good-bye, -old lady--good-bye. Good luck to you, and don't forget to----" - -The girl raised her pretty, flushed face and gave a quick glance up and -down the deserted corridor. "Ain't you--aren't you going to--say -good-bye ... properly--Jerry?" - -The Junior Watch-keeper bent down. "'Course ... and another for luck...! -Good-bye, dear; good-bye...!" - -The Young Doctor was waiting with his nose flattened against the -darkened window of a gunsmith's opposite when the Lieutenant joined him. -His silence held a vague hint of disapproval as they fell into step. -"That girl," he ventured presently, "isn't she a bit fond of you, old -thing?" - -The Junior Watch-keeper paused to light a pipe. "I--I don't think so, -Peter. Not more than she is of a dozen others." He glanced at his -companion: "You don't think I've been up to any rotten games, do you?" -The other shook his head with quick protest. "But I like her awfully, -and she's a jolly good little sport. They all are, taking them all -round, in a Naval Port. It's a rotten life when you think of it ... -cooped up there in that beastly atmosphere, year in, year out, listening -to everlasting Service shop, or being made love to by half-tight fools. -Their only refuge from it is in marriage--if they care to take advantage -of some young ass. Who else do they meet...? The marvel of it is not -that a few come to grief, but that so many are so jolly straight. That -girl to-night--Molly--I suppose she has refused half a dozen N.O.'s. -Prefers to wait till some scallywag in her own class can afford to take -her away out of it. And I've heard her talking like a Mother to a rorty -Midshipman--a silly young ass who was drinking like a fish and wasting -his money and health pub-crawling. She shook him to the core. Lord -knows, I don't want to idealise barmaids--p'raps I'd be a better man if -I'd seen less of them myself--but----" - -The Surgeon gripped his elbow soothingly. "I know--_I_ know, old son. -Don't get in a stew! And as for seeing less of them ... it's hard to -say. Unless a man knows people ashore, and is prepared to put on his -'superfine suitings' and pay asinine calls when he might be playing golf -or cricket, where else is he to speak to a woman all the days of his -life? Dances...? I can't dance." - -They had turned into the main thoroughfare, and the traffic that -thronged the pavements and roadway made conversation difficult. The -liberty men from scores of ships in the port streamed to and fro: some -arm-in-arm with quietly-dressed servant girls and shop girls; others -uproarious in the company of befeathered women. At short intervals -along the street a flaring gin-palace or cinema-theatre flung smudges of -apricot-coloured light on to the greasy pavements and the faces of -passers-by. Trams clanged past, and every now and again a blue-jacket -or military foot-patrol, belted and gaitered, moved with watchful eyes -and measured gait along the kerb. - -As they neared the music-hall the throng grew denser. On all sides the -West Country burr filled the night, softening even the half-caught oath -with its broad, kindly inflection. Men from the garrison regiments -mingled with the stream of blue-clad sailors. A woman hawking oranges -from the kerb raised her shrill voice, thrusting the cheap fruit under -the noses of passers-by. A group of young Stokers, lounging round a -vendor of hot chestnuts, were skylarking with two brazen-voiced girls. -At the doorway of the music-hall, a few yards away, a huge man in livery -began to bawl into the night, hoarsely incoherent. - -The two officers mounted the steps together, and, as one obtained -tickets from the booking-office, the other turned with a little smile to -look down the mile-long vista of lights and roaring humanity. The -scintillant tram-cars came swaying up the street from the direction of -the Dockyard: on either side the gleaming windows of the shops that -still remained open--the tattooists, the barbers, tobacconists, the -fried-fish and faggot shops, and the host of humbler tradesmen who plied -most of their trade at this hour--grew fainter and duller, until they -dwindled away to a point under the dark converging house-tops. A girl, -shouting some shameless jest, broke away from the horse-play round the -chestnut-oven, and thrust herself, reeling with laughter, through the -passing crowd. A burly Marine caught her by the waist as she wriggled -past, and kissed her dexterously without stopping in his stride. His -companion smirked appreciation of the feat, and glanced back over his -shoulder.... - -The watcher on the steps turned and followed the other up the broad -stairway. - - * * * * * - -A man with a red nose and baggy trousers was singing a song about his -mother-in-law and a lodger. His accents were harshly North Country, and -out of the paint-streaked countenance, his eyes--pathetic, brown -monkey-eyes--roamed anxiously over the audience, as if even he had -little enough confidence in the humour of his song. - -The Lieutenant leaned back in his seat and refilled his pipe. "Isn't it -wonderful to think that when we come home again in three years' time -that chap with the baggy trousers and red nose--or his twin-brother, -anyhow--will still be singing about the same old mother-in-law!" - -Presently a stout, under-clad woman skipped before the footlights and -commenced some broadly suggestive patter. The audience, composed for -the most part of blue-jackets and Tommies, roared delight at each -doubtful sally. She ended with a song that had a catchy, popular -refrain, and the house took it up with a great burst of song. - -"Hark at 'em!" whispered the Surgeon. "Don't they love it all! Yet her -voice is nothing short of awful, her song means nothing on earth, and -her anatomy--every line of it--ought to be in the museum of the Royal -College of Surgeons.... Let's go and have a drink." - -They ascended the stairway to the promenade, and passed under a -curtain-hung archway into a long bar. The atmosphere was clouded with -tobacco smoke, and reeked of spirits and cheap, clinging scent. From a -recess in one corner a gramophone blared forth a modern rag-time, and a -few women, clasped by very callow-looking youths, were swaying to a -"One-step" in the middle of the carpeted space. Behind the bar two -tired-looking girls scurried to and fro, jerking beer handles as if for -a wager, and mechanically repeating orders. Settees ran the length of -the walls under rows of sporting prints, and here more women, with -painted lips and over-bright, watchful eyes, were seated at little -tables. Most of them were accompanied by young men in lounge or tweed -suits. - -"Phew," grunted the Junior Watch-keeper, "what an atmosphere! Look at -those young asses.... Kümmel at this time of night.... And we did it -once, Peter! Lord! it makes me feel a hundred." - -A panting woman disengaged herself from her youthful partner, and linked -her arm within that of the Young Doctor. "Ouf!" she gasped, "I'm that -'ot, dearie. Stand us a drop of wot killed auntie!" - -With a gallant bow the Young Doctor led her to the bar. "My dear -madam," he murmured--"a privilege! And if you will allow me to -prescribe for you--as a Medical Man--I suggest----" - -"Port an' lemon," prompted the lady. She fanned herself with a -sickly-scented and not over-clean scrap of lace. "Ain't it 'ot, Doctor! -... Glad I lef me furs at 'ome. Ain't you goin' to have nothin'...?" - - * * * * * - -The Junior Watch-keeper drew a deep breath as they reached the open -street. - -"Thank God for fresh air again!" He filled and refilled his lungs. - -"'And so to bed,'" quoted the other. The taverns and places of -amusement were emptying their patrons into the murky street. Raucous -laughter and farewells filled the night. - -"Yes." The Junior Watch-keeper yawned, and they walked on in silence, -each busy with his own long thoughts. By degrees the traffic lessened, -until, nearing the Dockyard, the two were alone in deserted -thoroughfares with no sound but the echo of their steps. They were -threading the maze of dimly-lit, cobbled streets that still lay before -them, when a draggle-skirted girl, standing in the shelter of a doorway, -plucked at their sleeves. They walked on almost unheeding, when suddenly -the Young Doctor hesitated and stopped. The woman paused irresolute for -a moment, and then came towards them, with the light from a gas-lamp -playing round her tawdry garments. She murmured something in a -mechanical tone, and smiled terribly. The Young Doctor emptied his -pockets of the loose silver and coppers they contained, and thrust the -coins into her palm: with his disengaged hand he tilted her face up to -the light. It was a pathetically young, pathetically painted face. -"Wish me good luck," he said, and turned abruptly to overtake his -companion. - -The woman stood staring after them, her hand clenched upon her suddenly -acquired riches. An itinerant fried-fish and potato merchant, homeward -bound, trundled his barrow suddenly round a distant corner. The girl -wheeled in the direction of the sound. - -"'Ere!" she called imperiously, "_'ere!_..." - -The echo of her voice died away, and the Young Doctor linked his arm -within the other's. - -"There is a poem by some one[#] I read the other day--d'you know it?-- - - "'I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the - sky, - And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.'" - - -[#] John Masefield. - - -He mused for a moment in silence as they strode along. "I forget how it -goes on: something about a 'vagrant gypsy life,' and the wind 'like a -whetted knife'-- - - "'And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, - And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.' - -"That's how it ends, I know." - -The Junior Watch-keeper nodded soberly. "Yes.... But it's the star we -need the most, Peter--you and I." - - * * * * * - -It was early in the morning, and thin columns of smoke were rising from -the funnels of a cruiser lying alongside one of the Dockyard jetties. -On her decks there was a bustle of preparation: steaming covers were -being laced to yards and topmasts: the Boatswain, "full of strange -oaths" and of apoplectic countenance, moved forward in the wake of a -depressed part of the watch. On the booms the Carpenter was -superintending the stowage of some baulks of timber. Packing-cases were -coming in at the gangway; barefooted messengers darted to and fro. -There was a frequent shrilling of pipes, and the hoarse voice of the -Boatswain's Mate bellowing orders. - -Presently there came a lull, and the ship's company were mustered aft as -a bell began to toll. Then over the bared heads the familiar words of -the Navy Prayer drifted outward into space. - -"... That we may return to enjoy ... the fruits of our labours." In the -course of the next three years, the words, by reason of their frequent -repetition, would come to mean to them no more than the droning of the -Chaplain's voice; yet that morning their significance was plain enough -to the ranks of silent men. A minute later, with the notes of a bugle, -the ship boiled into activity again. - -Out on the straw-littered jetty a gradually-increasing crowd had -gathered. It was composed for the most part of women, poorly clad, with -pinched, anxious faces. Some had babies in their arms; others carried -little newspaper parcels tucked under their shawls: parting gifts for -some one. A thin drizzle swept in from the sea, as a recovered -deserter, slightly intoxicated, was brought down between an escort and -vanished over the gangway amid sympathetic murmurs from the onlookers. -A telegram boy pushed his way through the crowd, delivered his message -of God-speed in its orange-coloured envelope, and departed again, -whistling jauntily. - -The men drifted out into the jetty to bid farewell, with forced -nonchalance and frequent expectoration. Each man was the centre of a -little group of relatives, discussing trivialities with laughter that -did not ring quite true. Here and there a woman had broken down, crying -quietly; but for the most part they stood dry-eyed and smiling, as -befitted the women of a Nation that must be ever bidding "Vale" to its -sons. - -"All aboard!" The voices of the Ship's Police rose above the murmur of -the crowd. Farewells were over. - -A hoist of flags crept to the masthead, and an answering speck of colour -appeared at the signal halliards over Admiralty House. - -"Askin' permission to proceed," said some one. The gang-planks rattled -on to the jetty, and a knot of workmen began casting off wires from the -bollards. - -"Stand clear!" shouted a warning voice. The ropes slid across the tarred -planking and fell with a sullen splash. Beneath the stern the water -began to churn and boil. The ship was under way at last, gliding farther -every minute from the watching crowd. The jetty was a sea of faces and -waving handkerchiefs: the band on board struck up a popular tune. - -In a few minutes she was too far off to distinguish faces. On the fore -bridge the Captain raised his cap by the peak and waved it. Somewhere -near the turf-scarped fort ashore an answering gleam of white appeared -and fluttered for a moment. The lines of men along the upper deck, the -guard paraded aft, the cluster of officers on the bridge, slowly faded -into an indistinct blur as the mist closed round them. For a while -longer the band was still audible, very far off and faint. - -After a while the watchers turned and straggled slowly towards the -Dockyard Gates. - - - - - *XVIII.* - - *THE SEVENTH DAY.* - - -The Sub-Lieutenant clanked into the Gunroom and surveyed the apartment -critically. The Junior Midshipmen stationed at each scuttle fell to -burnishing the brass butterfly nuts with sudden and anxious renewal of -energy. - -"Stinks of beer a bit," observed the Sub., "but otherwise it's all -right. Hide that 'Pink 'Un' under the table-cloth, one of you." As he -spoke the notes of a bugle drifted down the hatchway. "There you are! -Officers' Call! Clear out of it, sharp!" Hastily they tucked away the -possible cause of offence to their Captain, bundled their cleaning-rags -into a cupboard, snatched their dirks off the rack, and hurried on deck. - -On the quarter-deck the remainder of the Officers were assembling in -answer to the summons of the bugle. Frock-coated figures clanked to and -fro, struggling with refractory white gloves. Under the supervision of -a bearded Petty Officer the Quarter-deck men were hurriedly putting the -finishing touches to neatly coiled boats' falls and already gleaming -metal-work. It was 9 A.M. on a Sunday forenoon, and the ship was -without stain or blemish from her gilded truck to her freshly painted -water-line. All the working hours of the previous day--what time the -citizen ashore donned "pearlies" or broadcloth and shut up shop--the -blue-jacket had been burnishing and scrubbing,--a lick of paint here, -there a scrap of gold-leaf or a pound of elbow-grease. And pervading -the ship was the comfortless atmosphere of an organisation, normally in -a high state of adjustment, strained yet a point higher. - -The Commander came suddenly out of the Captain's cabin and nodded to the -Officer of the Watch. - -"Sound off with the bell." - -The buglers, drawn up in line at the entrance to the battery, moistened -their lips in anticipation and raised their bugles. The Corporal of the -Watch stepped to the bell and jerked the clapper. - -Ding-ding! - -Simultaneously the four bugles blared out, and the hundreds of men -forward in the waist of the ship and on the forecastle formed up into -their different divisions and stood easy. The divisions were ranged -along both sides of the ship--Forecastle, Foretop, Maintop, Quarter-deck -men on one side, Stokers, Day-men, and Marines on the other. - -The "Rig of the Day" was "Number Ones," which was attended by certain -obligations in the matter of polished boots, carefully brushed hair, and -shaven faces. To any one unversed in the mysteries of the sailors' -garb, the men appeared to be dressed merely in loose, -comfortably-fitting blue clothes. But a hundred subtleties in that -apparently simple dress received the wearer's attention before he -submitted himself to the lynx-eyed inspection of his Divisional -Lieutenant that morning. The sit of the blue-jean collar, the spotless -flannel, the easy play of the jumper round the hips, the immaculate -lines of the bell-bottomed trousers (harder to fit properly than any -tail-coat or riding-breeches) all came in for a more critical overhaul -than did ever a young girl before her first ball. And the result, in -all its pleasing simplicity, was the sailor's unconscious tribute to -that one day of the seven wherein his luckier brethren ashore do no -manner of work. - -The Captain stepped out of his cabin, and the waiting group of officers -saluted. The Heads of Departments made their reports, and then, with an -attendant retinue of Midshipmen, Aides-de-Camp, messengers, and buglers, -followed the Captain down the hatchway for the Rounds. - -Along the mess-decks, deserted save for an occasional sweeper or Ship's -Corporal standing at attention, swept the procession; halting at a -galley or casemate as the Captain paused to ask a question or pass a -white-gloved hand along a beam in search of dust. Then aft again, past -Gunroom and Wardroom--with a stoppage outside the former. The Captain -elevated his nose. - -"I think the beer-barrel must be leaking, sir," said the Sub-Lieutenant, -"standing the rounds" in the doorway. - -"See to it," was the reply, and the cortége swept on, with swords -clanking and lanterns throwing arcs of light into dark corners suspected -of harbouring a hastily concealed deck-cloth or of being the pet _cache_ -for somebody's coaling-suit. - -Up in the sunlight of the outer world the band was softly playing -selections from "The Pirates of Penzance." The ship's goat, having -discovered a white kid glove dropped by the Midshipman of the Maintop, -retired with it to the shelter of the boat-hoist engine for a hurried -cannibalistic feast. The Officers of Divisions had concluded the -preliminary inspection, and were pacing thoughtfully to and fro in front -of their men. Suddenly the Captain's head appeared above the after -hatchway. - -The Lieutenant of the Quarter-deck Division, in the midst of receiving a -whispered account of an overnight dance from his Midshipman, wheeled -abruptly and called his Division to attention. Then-- - -"Off hats!" - -As if actuated by a single lever each man raised his left hand, whipped -off his hat and brought it to his side. The Captain acknowledged the -Lieutenant's salute and passed quickly down the ranks, his keen eyes -travelling rapidly from each man's face to his boots. Once or twice he -paused to ask a question and then passed on to the next waiting -Division. - -Presently the bugler sounded the "Disperse"; the Divisions turned -forward, stepped outward, and broke up. Here and there the Midshipman -of a Division remained standing, scribbling hurriedly in his note-book -such criticisms as it had pleased his Captain to make. One man's hair -had wanted cutting; it was time another had passed for Leading -Seaman.... A third had elected to attend Divisions--on this the Sabbath -of the Lord his God--without the knife attached to his lanyard. - - * * * * * - -Half an hour later the normal aspect of the Quarter-deck had changed. -Rows of plank benches, resting on capstan bars supported by buckets, -filled the available space on each side of the barbette. Chairs for the -Officers had been placed further aft, facing the men who were to occupy -the benches. In front of the burnished muzzles of the two great 12-inch -guns a lectern had been draped with a white flag, and between the guns a -'cello, flute, and violin prepared to augment the strains of a rather -wheezy harmonium. Then the bell began to toll, and a flag crept to the -peak to inform the rest of the Fleet that the ship was about to commence -Divine Service. - -The men hurried aft, seamen and marines pouring in a continuous stream -through the open doors from the batteries. No sooner had the last man -squeezed hurriedly into his place with the slightly hang-dog air seamen -assume in the full glare of the public eye, than the Master-at-Arms -appeared at the battery door and reported every one aft to the -Commander. The Captain took his chair, facing the Ship's Company, and a -little in advance of the remainder of the Officers; the Chaplain walked -up the hatchway, stepped briskly to the lectern and gave out a hymn. -The orchestra played the opening bars, five hundred men swung themselves -to their feet, and the service began. - -Presently the Captain crossed to the lectern and read the lesson for the -day. It dealt with warfare and bloodshed, and there was a suddenly -awakened interest in the rows of intent faces opposite--for this was the -consummation each man present believed would ultimately come to some -day's work, although it might not be amid the welter and crash of -shattered chariot and struggling horses, nor the twang of released -bow-strings.... And the stern, level voice went on to tell of the -establishment of laws, wise and austere as those which regulated the -reader's paths and those of his listeners; while under the stern-walk a -flock of gulls screeched and quarrelled, and the water lapped with a -drowsy, soothing sound against the side of the ship. - -After a while the Chaplain gave out the number of another hymn. The -Bluejacket's most enthusiastic admirer would hesitate to describe him as -a devout man; but when the words and tune are familiar--it may be -reminiscent of happier surroundings--the sailor-man will sing a hymn -with the fervour of inspiration. And if only for the sake of the -half-effaced memories it recalled, the volume of bass harmony that -rolled across the sunlit harbour doubtless travelled as far as the -thunder of organ and chant from many a cathedral choir. - -Then, standing very upright, his fingers linked behind his back, the -Chaplain commenced his sermon. He spoke very simply, adorning his -periods with no flowery phrase or ornate quotation, suiting the manner -of his delivery to the least intelligent of his hearers. There was no -fierce denunciation, no sudden gestures nor change in the grave, even -voice. He touched on matters not commonly spoken of in pulpits, and his -speech was wondrous plain, as indeed was meet for a congregation such as -his. And they were no clay under the potter's thumb. Composed for the -most part of men indifferent to religion, almost fiercely resentful of -interference with their affairs; living on crowded mess-decks afloat, -fair game for every crimp and land-shark ashore. But there was that in -the sane, temperate discourse that passed beyond creed or dogma, and a -tatooed fist suddenly clenched on its owner's hat-brim, or the restless -shifting of a foot, told where a shaft passed home. - -Here and there, screened by his fellows, a tired man's head nodded -drowsily. But the "Padre" had learned twenty years before that it took -more than a sermon to keep awake a seated man who had perhaps kept the -middle watch, and turned out for the day at 6.15 A.M.; in the five -hundred odd pairs of eyes that remained fixed on his face he doubtless -read a measure of compensation. - - * * * * * - -The short-cropped heads bowed as in clear tones the Benediction was -pronounced-- - -"... and remain with you ... always." An instant's pause, and then, -Officers and men standing upright and rigid, they sang the National -Anthem. - -The Captain turned and nodded to the Commander, who was putting on his -cap. - -"Pipe down." - - - - - *XIX.* - - *THE PARRICIDE.* - - -"'Ark!" said the hedger, his can of cold tea arrested half-way to his -lips. But Sal, the lurcher bitch curled up under the hedge, had heard -some seconds before. With twitching nose and ears alert, she jumped out -of the ditch and trotted up the road. A far-off sound was coming over -the downs--a faint drone as of a clustering swarm of bees. - -"One of them motor-bikes----" murmured the man and paused. Away in the -west, approaching the coast-line and flying high, was a dark object like -the framework of a box suspended in mid-air. It drew near, rising and -falling on the unseen swell of the ocean of ether, and the droning sound -grew louder. "Aeri-o-plane," continued the hedger, again speaking -aloud, after the manner of those who live much alone in the open. - -As a matter of fact it was a Hydro-Aeroplane, and after it had passed -overhead the watchers saw it wheel and swoop towards the harbour hidden -from them by the shoulder of the downs. - -The man stood looking after it, his shadow sprawling across the dusty -road before him. "Lawks!" he ejaculated, "'ere's goin's-on!" A ripple -from the Naval Manoeuvre Area had passed across the placid surface of -his life. He resumed his interrupted tea. - -A stone breakwater stretched a half-encircling arm round the little -harbour. Within its shelter a huddle of coasting craft and trawlers lay -at anchor, with the red roofs of the town banked up as a background for -their tangled spars. Behind them again the tall chimney of an electric -power station lifted a slender head. - -In the open water of the harbour a flotilla of Submarines were moored -alongside one another: figures moved about the tiny railed platforms, -and in the stillness of the summer afternoon the harbour held only the -sound of their voices, the muffled clink of a hammer, and, from an -unseen siding ashore, the noise of shunting railway trucks made musical -by distance. - -The seaplane drew near and circled gracefully overhead; then it -volplaned down and settled lightly on the water at the harbour mouth: a -Submarine moved from her moorings to meet it. The pilot of the seaplane -pulled off his gauntlets, pushed his goggles up on to his forehead, and -lit a cigarette. The Submarine ranged alongside and her Captain leaned -over the rail with a smile of greeting. - -"Any news?" - -The Flying Corps Officer raised his hands to his mouth: "Enemy's -Battleship and eight Destroyers, eighteen miles to the Sou'-East," he -shouted. "Steering about Nor'-Nor'-West at 12 knots. Battleship's got -troops or Marines on board in marching order.... No, nothing, -thanks--I'm going north to warn them. So-long..." - -Five minutes later he was a black speck in the sky above the headland -where the tall masts of a Wireless Station and a cluster of whitewashed -cottages showed up white against the turf. - -The Submarine slid back into the harbour and approached the Senior -Officer's boat. The Senior Officer, in flannels, was swinging Indian -clubs on the miniature deck of his craft. The Lieutenant who had -communicated with the Seaplane made his report; his Senior Officer -nodded and put down his clubs. - -"Guessed as much. They're coming to raid this place. Come inboard for -a minute, and tell Forbes and Lawrence and Peters to come too. We'll -have a Council of War--Wow, wow!" - - * * * * * - -The sun set in a great glory of light; then a faint haze, blue-grey, -like a pigeon's wing, veiled the indeterminate meeting of sea and sky. -It crept nearer, stealing along the horizon, stretching leaden fingers -across the smooth sea. - -A fishing smack, becalmed a league from the harbour mouth, faded -suddenly like a wraith into nothingness. - -Six Destroyers came out of the mist, heading towards the breakwater. -They were about a mile away when the leading boat altered course -abruptly towards the North, and the others followed close in her wake, -leaving a smear of smoke in the still air. Before their wake had ceased -to trouble the surface--before, almost, the rearmost boat had vanished -into the fog--the periscope of a Submarine slid round the corner of the -breakwater, paused a moment as if in uncertainty, and then headed, like -a swimming snake, in swift pursuit. Another followed; another, and -another. - - * * * * * - -A Battleship came slowly out of the haze. She moved with a certain -deliberate sureness, a grey, majestic citadel afloat. A jet of steam -from an escape and the Ensign at her peak showed up with startling -whiteness against the sombre sea. An attendant Destroyer hovered on -each quarter, but as they neared the land these darted ahead, obedient -to the tangle of flags at the masthead of the Battleship. Off the mouth -of the harbour they swung round: the semaphore of one signalled that the -harbour was clear, and they separated, to commence a slow patrol North -and South on the fringe of the mist. A moment later the Battleship -anchored with a thunder and rattle of cable. Pipes twittered shrilly, -and boats began to sink from her davits into the water. Ladders were -lowered, and armed men streamed down the ship's side. They were -disembarking troops for a raid. - -There was a sudden swirl in the water at the harbour entrance. Unseen, -a slender, upright stick, surmounted by a little oblong disc, crept -along in the shadow of the breakwater, indistinguishable in the floating -debris awash there on the flood tide. It turned seaward and sank. - -A minute passed; a cutter full of men was pulling under the stern to -join the other boats waiting alongside. The steel derrick, raised like -a huge warning finger, swung slowly round, lifting a steamboat out into -the water! From the boats afloat came the plash of oars, an occasional -curt order, and the rattle of sidearms as the men took their places. - -Then a signalman, high up on the forebridge, rushed to the rail, bawling -hoarsely. - -A couple of hundred yards away the dark stick had reappeared. Almost -simultaneously two trails of bubbles sped side by side towards the flank -of the Battleship. There was a sudden tense silence. The Destroyer to -the Northward sighted the menace and opened fire with blank on the -periscope from her 12-pounders. - -"Bang! ... Bang! Bang!" - -The men in the boats alongside craned their necks to watch the path of -the approaching torpedoes. The Commander standing at the gangway -shrugged his shoulders and turned with a grim smile to the Captain. - -"They've bagged us, sir." - -A dull concussion shook the after part of the ship, and the pungent -smell of calcium drifted up off the water on to the quarterdeck. - -"Yes," said the Captain. He stepped to the rail, and stood looking down -at the spluttering torpedoes with the noses of their copper collision -heads telescoped flat, as they rolled drunkenly under the stern. - -The Submarine thrust her conning-tower above the surface, and from the -hatchway appeared a figure in the uniform of a Lieutenant. He climbed -on to the platform with a pair of handflags, and commenced to signal. - -The Post-Captain on the quarter-deck of the Battleship raised his glass, -made an inaudible observation, and lowered it again. - -"Claim-to-have-put-you-out-of-action," spelt the handflags. The Captain -smiled dryly and lifted his cap by the peak with a little gesture of -greeting; there was answering gleam of teeth in the sunburnt face of the -Lieutenant across the water. The Captain turned to his Commander. "But -he needn't have torpedoed his own father," he said, as if in -continuation of his last remark. "The penalty for marrying young, I -suppose." - -The Submarine recovered her torpedoes and returned to harbour. Her -Commanding Officer summoned his Sub-Lieutenant, and together they delved -in a cupboard; followed the explosion of a champagne cork. Glasses -clinked, and there was a gurgling silence. - -"Not bad work," said the Sub-Lieutenant, "bagging your Old Man's ship." - -"Not so dusty," replied the Lieutenant in command of the Submarine, -modestly. - -She was a brand-new Battleship, and had cost a million and -three-quarters. It was his twenty-fourth birthday. - - - - - *XX.* - - *THE NIGHT-WATCHES.* - - -"Out pipes! Clear up the upper deck!" The Boatswain Mate moved forward -along the lee side of the battery repeating the hoarse call. Slowly the -knots of tired men broke up, knocking the ashes out of their pipes, or -pinching their cigarette-ends with horny fingers before economically -tucking the remnants into their caps. A part of the Watch came aft, -sweeping down the deck, coiling down ropes for the night. Then, as the -bell struck, the shrill wail of the pipe rose again above the sound of -the wind and waves. It grew louder and shriller, and died away: then, -rising again, changed to another key and ended abruptly. It was the -sailor's Curfew--"Pipe down." - -On the crowded mess-decks, where scrubbed canvas hammocks swung with the -roll of the ship above the mess-tables, the ship's company was turning -in. A struggle with a tight-fitting jumper, which, rolled up in company -with a pair of trousers, was tucked under the tiny horse-hair pillow; a -pat to the mysterious pockets lining the "cholera-belt," to reassure a -man that his last month's pay was still intact, and then, with a -steadying hand on the steel beam overhead, one after another they swung -themselves into their hammocks and fell a-snoring. - -Aft in the Gunroom an extra half-hour's lights had been granted in -honour of somebody's birthday, and the inmates of the Mess were still -gathered round the piano. It was a war-scarred instrument: but it -served its purpose, albeit the hero of the evening--in celebration of -his advance into the sere and yellow leaf--had emptied a whisky-and-soda -into its long-suffering interior. The musician, his features ornamented -by a burnt-cork moustache, thumped valiantly at the keys. - - "And then there came the Boatswain's Wife," - -roared the young voices. It was an old, old song, familiar to men who -were no longer even memories with the singers and their generation. But -its unnumbered verses and quaint, old-world jingle had survived -unchanged the passing of "Masts and Yards," and were even then being -handed on into the era of the hydroplane and submarine. - -"Ten o'clock, gentlemen!" said the voice of the Ship's Corporal at the -door. The Sub. eyed him sternly. "You may get yourself a glass of -beer, Corporal," and thereby won a five-minutes' respite. Then---- - -"Out lights, please, gentlemen," again broke in upon the revels. - -"Corporal, will you----" - -The man shook his head with a grim smile. "Come along, please, -gentlemen, or you'll get me 'ung." - -Reluctantly the singers withdrew, drifting by twos and threes to the -steerage flat where their hammocks swung. The Ship's Corporal switched -off the lights and locked the gun-room door. "I likes to see 'igh -sperits meself," he admitted to the yawning Steward who accompanied him -out of the Mess. The Gunroom Steward's reply was to the effect that you -could have too much even of a good thing, and he retired gloomily to the -pantry, where, in company with a vast ham and the gunroom crockery, he -spent most of his waking hours. - -In the nearly deserted Wardroom a rubber of bridge was still in -lingering progress; a sea raced frothing past the thick glass of a -scuttle, and one of the players raised his eyes from his hand. "Blowing -up for a dirty night," he observed. A Lieutenant deep in an arm-chair -by the fire lifted his head. "It's sure to--my middle watch." He -closed the book he was reading and stood up, stretching himself. Then -with a glance at the clock he moved towards the door. As he opened it -the Senior Engineer came into the Mess. His face was drawn with -tiredness, and there were traces of dust round his eyes. He pulled off a -pair of engine-room gloves, and, ordering a drink, thoughtfully rolled a -cigarette. At the sound of his voice the Engineer Commander looked up -from the game and raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question to his -subordinate. The Senior Engineer nodded. "Yes, sir, she's all right -now; I don't think she'll give any more trouble to-night." He finished -his drink and sought his cabin. He had had three hours' sleep in the -last forty-eight hours, and hoped, as he undressed, that the infernal -scrap-heap would hold together till he'd had a bit more. - -The night wore on, and one by one the inmates of the Wardroom drifted to -their respective cabins. Outside the Captain's cabin the sentry -beguiled the tedium of the vigil by polishing the buckle of his belt. -Every now and again he glanced at the clock. - -At last the hands pointed to a quarter to twelve. In fifteen minutes -his watch would be over. He buckled on his belt and resumed his -noiseless beat. Occasionally from some cabin or hammock the snore of a -tired sleeper reached his ears. The rifles, stowed upright round the -aft-deck, moved in their racks to the measured roll of the ship, with a -long-drawn, monotonous rattle, like a boy's stick drawn lightly across -area railings. - -A tread sounded overhead, and a figure carrying a lantern came lightly -down the hatchway. It was the Midshipman of the First Watch, calling -the reliefs. He descended to the steerage flat, and bending down under -the hammocks of his sleeping brethren, knocked at the door of one of the -cabins. There was a lull in the stertorous breathing, in the warm, dim -interior. - -"Ten minutes to twelve, sir!" The inmate grunted and switched on his -light. "All right," he growled. - -The boy moved off till he came to a hammock slung by the armoured door. -He ranged up beside it and blew lightly into the face of the sleeper. - -"Jimmy! Ten to twelve!" - -The occupant of the hammock opened one eye. - -"'Ll right," he murmured sleepily, and closed it again. - -The Midshipman of the First Watch eyed him suspiciously. - -"No you don't!" He shook the hammock. "Wake up, you fat-headed -blighter, or I'll slip you." Then, changing his tone to a wheedling -one: "Come on, Jimmy, it's a lovely night--much more healthy on the -bridge than fugging in your beastly hammock." - -His relief said something under his breath, and emerged shivering from -the blankets, blinking in the light of the lantern. Once his feet were -fairly on the deck, the other turned and scampered up the ladder again. - -The bell struck eight times as the Lieutenant and Midshipman of the -Middle Watch climbed the ladder to the fore bridge. The Fleet was -steaming in two divisions, with a flotilla of destroyers stationed on -the beam. Beyond them the silhouette of an island was just visible in -the pale moonlight. - -At the last stroke of the bell the pipe of the Boatswain's Mate shrilled -out, calling the Middle Watch. "A-a-all the starboard watch! Seaboats, -crews, and reliefs fall in!" Fore and aft the ship the mantle of -responsibility changed wearers. Sentries, seamen, stokers, signalmen, -their tale of bricks complete for a few hours, turned over to their -reliefs and hurried to their hammocks. - -On the bridge the two Lieutenants walked up and down for a few minutes, -while the newcomer received details of the course and speed of the Fleet -and the Captain's orders for the night. Then the Officer of the Watch -that was ended unslung his binoculars and turned towards the ladder. - -"I think that's all.... She's keeping station very well now, but they -had a bit of trouble in the Engine-room earlier in the Watch. Captain -wants to be called at daybreak. Good-night." - -"Good-night." - -The Midshipman of the Watch was already in position on the upper bridge, -settling down to his four hours' vigil with a sextant on the lights of -the next ship ahead. From the battery below came the voice of the -Corporal of the Watch mustering the hands. Overhead the wind thrummed -in the shrouds and halliards: the steady throb of the engines beat out -an accompaniment--a deep _pizzicato_ accompaniment as if from some -mighty bass-viol floating up through the open casings--and, somehow -dominating all other sounds, the ceaseless swish and murmur of the waves -breaking along the ship's side. - -The Officer of the Watch crossed over to the Midshipman's side. "Are we -in station all right?" - -The boy lowered the sextant: "Yes, sir, quite steady." - -"Right: give me the sextant and go and brew some cocoa in the -chart-house. There's a spirit-lamp there." - -The Midshipman vanished and reappeared a few minutes later with two cups -of steaming beverage. They drank together, gulping it hastily to warm -themselves. - -"A-ah!" sighed the Lieutenant gratefully. "That's better. Now put the -cups back, and come and show me Arcturus--if you have shaken off your -fat head!" - - * * * * * - -A couple of hours passed. The Midshipman of the Watch, accompanied by -the Corporal with a lantern, had gone his rounds of the mess-decks and -cell-flat. The seaboat's crew had gone through an undress rehearsal of -"Man overboard!" and were huddled yarning in the lee of the forecastle -screen. Twice the ship had crept a shade out of her appointed station -in the line, and, when the telegraph had rung the trouble to the -Engine-room below, stolen back to her appointed bearing. Once the Fleet -altered course majestically to avoid a fishing-fleet as it lay spread -over the waters, a confusion of flares and bobbing lights. - -The bridge was in darkness, save for the faint glow of the binnacle that -threw into relief the rugged features of the Quartermaster at the wheel. -The face might have been that of a bronze statue, but for a slight -movement of the jaws as he thoughtfully chewed his quid. Suddenly a -light at the masthead of the Flagship began to blink hurriedly. A -signalman stepped out of the lee of the chart-house and rattled the key -of the masthead flashing lamp. On all sides the other ships began -blinking in answer to the Admiral's call. Presently the Yeoman spoke: a -rocket soared up into the night ahead of them. The Lieutenant put his -mouth to the voice-pipe and gave a clear spoken order, which the -telegraph-man repeated: somewhere overhead a bell rang in answer from -the engine-room. - -The Fleet had increased speed. - -The breeze freshened, and the men on the bridge ducked their heads as -from time to time a shower of spray drifted over the weather-screens. -The Midshipman of the Watch lowered his sextant and sniffed longingly, -his nose in the air; the off-shore wind had brought with it a hint of -heather and moist earth. Then, with a little sigh, he steadied his -sextant again on the lights of the next ahead. - - * * * * * - -The sky was turning pale in the East, and the chilly dawn crept over a -grey sea. The faces of the men on the bridge slowly became -distinguishable. They were the faces of the Morning Watch, wan in the -growing light. - -The Lieutenant rubbed the stubble on his chin and turned his glasses on -a school of porpoises chasing each other through the waves. The sky -astern changed gradually from grey to lilac. Low down on the horizon a -little belt of cloud became slowly tinged with pink. Out of a hen-coop -on the booms the shrill crow of a newly-awakened cockerel greeted -another day. Then from the mess-deck, drifting up hatchway and -ventilating cowl, came the hoarse bellow-- - -"'Eave out, 'eave out, 'eave out! Show a leg there, show a leg! 'Sun's -a-scorching your eyes out!..." - -The look-out in the foretop watched the antics of a small land-bird -balancing itself on the forestay. - -"Poor little bloke," he muttered, blowing on his benumbed fingers, -"'spect's you wants yer breakfus'--same's me!" - - - - - *XXI.* - - *A ONE-GUN SALUTE.* - - -"Every person subject to this Act who shall strike ... or lift up any -weapon against his superior officer in the execution of his office, -shall be punished with Death or such other punishment as is hereinafter -mentioned."--Sec. 16, _Naval Discipline Act_. - -In Official eyes--even in eyes anxious to condone--illicit rum and the -unreasoning passion of a Celtic temperament were the sole causes of the -trouble. Yet a man may fight Destiny in the shape of these evils and -still make a very fair show of it. It was the addition of the third -factor that in this case overtipped the scales. - -Her red, untidy hair was usually screwed into wisps of last night's -'Football Herald.' She had green, provocative eyes that slanted upwards -ever so slightly at the corners, and coarse, chapped hands--useful -hands, as many an overbold Ordinary Seaman had discovered to his fuddled -amazement, but in no wise ornamental. Her speech was partly Lower-deck, -partly Barrack-room, softened withal by the broad West Country burr; her -home was an alehouse in an obscure back street near Devonport Dockyard. - -She was in no sense of the word a "nice" girl; but she was tall, -deep-bosomed, and broad of hip, and appealed inordinately to Ivor -Jenkins, Stoker 1st Class of His Majesty's Navy, who was dark and -undersized, and had lately developed a troublesome cough. - -The recreations of a man who, on a daily rate of pay of 2s. 1d., -contrives to support a bed-ridden mother and a consumptive sister, -cannot perforce partake of the elaborate. Ivor, denied a wider choice, -was therefore content to spend as much of his watch ashore as a -jealously eked-out pint would allow, at the "Crossed Killicks." For -many weeks past, alternate nights had found the little man perched on a -three-legged stool in a corner of the bar, raging inwardly at an -unnumbered host of rivals, dumbly grateful for such crumbs of -recognition as Arabella, from behind the beer handles, was pleased to -fling him. - -The sailor-man a-wooing usually conducts his financial affairs with an -open-handed generosity calculated to make a ministering angel pensive. -In consequence, Ivor, who could not afford to back his protestations by -invitations to the Hippodrome, whelk-suppers, and the like, dropped by -degrees more and more out of the running. At first the girl gave him -encouragement--not the vague, nebulous coquetry Mayfair recognises as -such, but an intimate familiarity extended to slaps on the nose (boko), -and once a dash of swipes down the back of his neck as Ivor stooped to -recover a broken pipe. But nothing came of it--not even a penn'orth of -fish-and-chips. Accustomed to tribute tendered with a lavish hand, -Arabella decided that this must be a "proper stinge,"--one, moreover, -niggardly in his consumption of beer, and (since there was the good of -the house to be considered) to be dealt a lesson in due season. - -"Bella! ... Give us a kiss!" - -Save for Ivor and the girl, the squalid bar was deserted. She paused in -the act of replacing a bottle on the shelf behind her, and looked over -her shoulder, half-surprised, half-contemptuous. A beam of afternoon -sunlight slanted through the dusty panes and caught the greenish feline -eyes and ruddy hair, innocent for once of curl-papers. - -"Wot? ... Me--kiss--yu!" She spoke slowly, and flung each word like a -whip-lash at the soul of Ivor Jenkins. - -"Ah, yus, Bella--jest one. There ain't----" - -"Mai dear laife! Yu ain't 'arf got no neck!" She turned with her hands -on her hips and regarded him with a smile on her thin lips, measuring -his undersized stature with her eyes. "I only kisses men--yu don' even -drink laike no man, yu don'. 'Sides, wot've 'ee done for us tu kiss -'ee? Us laikes men wot does things, yu know." - -Ivor winced, but never took his smouldering eyes from the girl. "I'd do -anything for you," he said tensely, "so I would," and coughed abruptly. - -She laughed and fell to wiping the sloppy counter. "Them as wants mai -kisses earns un. Same's Pete Worley: broke out of uns ship, un did, tu -take I tu theatre. An' w'en th' escort commed tu fetch un back, Pete un -laid un out laike nine-pins! Proper man, un was!" She surveyed Ivor, -perched smoking on his stool, and a sudden gleam came into her eyes. - -"Yeer!--us knows of a kiss goin' beggin' tu-morrow afternoon." She -leaned across the counter with a dangerous tenderness in her rather -hoarse voice, "If so be as a man (she laid a slight intonation on the -word) as't leave tu go tu Dockyard Bank for'n hour, an' slipped out, -laike...." - -It was his watch on board, as she knew; but she had also noted the red -Good Conduct Badge on his arm, and chose it instead of the accustomed -tribute he had denied her. Then her eyes hardened like agates. "Simly -yu ain't got no money tu bank, though?" - -"Aye," said Ivor slowly; "aye, indeed I have. Three poun'." It was his -sheet-anchor, saved (how Heaven and he alone knew) that his mother might -eventually be buried with that circumstance which is dearer to the -hearts of the Welsh than life itself. - -The girl nodded, and laid her hand caressingly on his sleeve. "Tha's -right, mai dear. Yu get leave tu go tu bank, an' slip along 'ere. -Tu-morrow afternoon 'bout five--will 'ee now?" She looked at him from -beneath tawny lashes. - -Ivor finished his beer and wiped his mouth musingly on the back of his -hand. The girl thought he was considering the Good Conduct Badge: as a -matter of fact Ivor was wondering how the Police at the Dockyard Gate -might be circumvented. - -"'Course," she said indifferently, turning away, "ef yu'm 'feered----" - -The man flushed darkly and stood up. "You'll see," he replied, and went -out through the swing-doors in a gust of coughing. It had been worrying -him a good deal lately, that cough. - - - - *II.* - - -The short November afternoon was drawing to a close as Ivor left the -Dockyard Bank with a shining sovereign gripped tightly in his trousers -pocket. Dusk was settling down on the lines of store-houses, and from -the Hamoaze below came the hoot of syrens that told of a fog sweeping in -from the Channel. Ivor strolled across the cobbles to where the -figurehead of a bygone frigate lifted an impassive countenance, and from -the shelter of its plinth he surveyed the gateway. The main entrance -was closed, and the narrow door, that only admitted the passage of one -person at a time, was guarded by a watchful policeman. It seemed as if -nothing short of a miracle would get a man in uniform through without a -pass. - -Presently a bell in some neighbouring tower struck the hour, and the -waiting man turned in the direction of the sound. The ships in the -lower yard were invisible, only their top-masts appeared out of a fog -that came slowly swirling in from the sea. Higher and higher it crept; -then suddenly the policeman at the gate was blotted out, and the wall -became a towering blackness that loomed up through the vapour. Still -Ivor waited, holding his sovereign tightly, and wrestling with a cough -that threatened every minute to betray him. Some parties of liberty-men -going on leave tramped past: he heard the gates open and saw for a -moment the glare of the streets beyond. A couple of officers in plain -clothes appeared suddenly into the blurred circle of his vision and were -swallowed again by the blackness. "What a fog!" he heard one say. The -other laughed, and grumbled something about being glad he was not -Channel groping. Their voices died away, and Ivor emerged to -reconnoitre, only to scurry back into shelter as a telegraph boy on a -bicycle steered a devious course past him across the cobbles. The -little disc of light from his lamp zigzagged to and fro for a minute and -was gone. Then Ivor heard the rumble of wheels and the clatter of a -horse's hoofs: the lights of a four-wheeler passed him and stopped. The -policeman was unbolting the gates. - -It was Ivor's chance, and, realising it, he slipped up beside the cab. -Inside was a figure muffled in a greatcoat, above which he caught a -glimpse of a clean-shaven, impatient face. Presently the inmate lowered -the further window and leant out, effectually interposing his body as a -screen between Ivor and the guardian of the gate. - -"Hurry up," he called; "I've got a train to catch." - -The gates swung slowly back, the cab rumbled through, and with it passed -Ivor Jenkins. Then for the first time he relinquished his grip on his -sovereign, and permitted himself the luxury of a fit of unchecked -coughing. - -"Bilked 'im," he gasped when he got his breath again, half-awed at the -ease with which he found himself in the strangely unfamiliar streets. -At the corner of the side-street he turned and looked back at the grim -wall. In the signal-tower that loomed above it into the murky sky the -yeoman on watch had just tapped the key of the flashing lamp to test the -circuit. To Ivor it seemed as if Fate had winked at him, solemnly and -portentously. - - * * * * * - -Ivor pushed through the swing-doors of the "Crossed Killicks" and looked -hastily round the bar. - -"'Ullo!...." he ejaculated blankly. "W'ere's Bella?" - -The girl behind the counter, a short, stout woman in a purple plush -bodice, tossed her head. "'Er a'ternoon orf," she explained tartly. - -"Aye, but--w'ere's she gorn?" - -"Walkin' out with a Blue Marine. 'Ippodrome, I think, they was goin'." - -Ivor sat down and fumbled blindly in the lining of his cap for his pipe. -Save for a spot of colour on either cheek-bone, his face was an ugly -grey. - -"Fine upstanding feller, 'e was too," added the barmaid, weighing Ivor -in the balance of comparison, and finding him somewhat wanting. Ivor -nodded dully, and for a while examined with apparently absorbed interest -an advertisement on the wall opposite. Passion surged through him in -waves that made the skin of his forehead tingle. So she'd bilked him -after all: given him the go-by for a Blue Marine! Ivor knew him too, -... had once even stood him a drink.... The Adam's-apple in his throat -worked like a piston. - -Presently the girl behind the bar looked up from her occupation of -drying glasses and eyed him curiously; but all she saw was a small dark -man, who sucked hard at an empty pipe, one fist clenched tightly in his -trousers pocket, staring hard at an advertisement for somebody's whisky. - -At length, out of the chaos of his thoughts, two courses of action took -shape and presented themselves for consideration. One was to bash the -Blue Marine into irrecognition; the other was to get mercifully drunk as -soon as possible. The Blue Marine, Ivor remembered, scaled a matter of -fourteen stone, so he chose the latter alternative, and for thirty-six -hours Oblivion, as understood by men of His Majesty's Forces, received -him into her arms. - - - - *III.* - - -"Did remain absen' over leave thirty-six tours, under haggravated -circumstances," declaimed the Master-at-Arms. - -It was the first time Ivor had broken his leave for three years. His -head ached intolerably: he felt sick, too, and heard as from an infinite -distance the cool, crisp tones of the Commander, who spoke sternly of -the penalties attached to "not playing the game." Ivor listened -sullenly. It was another and an older game he had tried to play,--a -game in which Fate seemed to hold most of the trumps. There was a good -deal more in the same strain about the abuse of privileges, and it all -ended in his being placed in the Captain's Report, to stand over till -next day. - -At dinner his resentment against the Universe in general swelled into an -excited flood of lower-deck jargon. In particular, he poured out -invective on the perfidy of Woman, and 43 Mess, with the peculiar -understanding vouched in the matter to men who go down to the sea in -ships, sucked its teeth in sympathetic encouragement. - -"I'd serve 'er to rights," said a youthful Second-Class Stoker darkly. -He removed the point of his clasp-knife from his mouth, whither it had -conveyed a potato, and illustrated with a gesture an argument certain of -his feminine acquaintances in the Mile End Road were supposed to have -found conclusive. - -"Don't you take on, Taff," said another, pushing over his pannikin of -rum. "'Ave a rub at this lot." Ivor finished his sympathiser's tot, -and several others that were furtively offered him--for he was a popular -little man among his messmates. But spirit--even "three-water" rum--is -not the soundest remedy for an alcoholic head. It set him coughing, and -deepened the sense of injury that rankled within him. - -"Wot you wants," said a Leading Stoker, "is to run about an' bite -things, like. You go on deck an' 'ave a smoke." He knew the -danger-signals of a mess-deck with the intimacy of seventeen years' -experience, and Ivor went sullenly. But it was a dangerous man that -stopped at the break of the forecastle to light his pipe. - -"Well," he said presently, "what d'you reckon I'll get whateffer?" His -"Raggie" considered the situation. "Couldn't rightly say; there's the -Jauntie[#] over by the 'atchway--go 'long an' ask 'im." Ivor smoked in -silence for a moment, then nodded, and stepping through the wreaths of -tobacco smoke, touched the Master-at-Arms on the shoulder. The latter, -who was listening to a story related by the Ship's Steward, was a small -man, with a grim vinegary face. He turned sharply-- - -[#] Master-at-Arms. - -"Well?" he said curtly. - -Now Ivor had stepped across the deck, honestly intending to ask the -probable extent of the punishment the Captain would award him for -breaking his leave. The suddenness with which the Master-at-Arms turned -jarred his jangled nerves; the sour face opposite him was the face of -the man who, on the Lower Deck, represented Law, Order, and Justice, -things Ivor knew to be perverse and monstrous mockeries. His brain swam -with the fumes of the thirty-six hours' debauch, reawakened by his -messmate's rum. A sudden insane rage closed down on him like a mist, -leaving him conscious only of the Master-at-Arms' face, as in the centre -of a partly fogged negative, very distinct, and for an instant -imperturbable and maddening.... Yet, as Ivor struck, fair and true -between the eyes, he somehow realised that not even now had he got level -with Fate. - - - *IV.* - - -A man seated in the foremost cell raised an unshaven face from his hands -as the sullen report of a gun reached him through the open scuttle. For -a while he speculated dully what it was for; then with curious -disinterestedness remembered that it was the court-martial gun, and that -he, Ivor Jenkins, was that day to be tried for an offence the extreme -penalty for which is Death. - -They said he'd slogged the Jauntie. For a while he had been, dazed and -incredulous, but as the testimony of innumerable witnesses seemed to -leave no doubt about the matter, Ivor accepted the intelligence with -stoical unconcern. Personally he had no recollection of anything save a -great uproar and a sea of excited faces appearing suddenly on all sides -out of a red mist.... However, there were the witnesses, and, moreover, -there was still an unexplained tenderness about his knuckles. - -"I pleads guilty," was all the prisoner's friend (a puzzled and -genuinely sympathetic Engineer Lieutenant) could get out of him. - -"Well, I should have thought you were the last man to have done such a -thing in the whole of the ship's company." - -"Same 'ere, sir," said Ivor, and fell a-coughing. - -Subsequent proceedings bewildered and finally bored him. They thrust -documents upon him, wherein he found his name coupled to the -incomprehensible prefix "For that he," and his misdemeanour described in -a style worthy of the 'Police Budget.' The Chaplain visited him and -spoke words of reproof in a kindly and mechanical tone. For the rest, -he was left to himself throughout the long days; to cough and cough -again, to watch the light grow and fade, to count the stars in the -barred circle of the scuttle, and to the recollection of green, slanting -eyes vexed by dusty sunlight in their depths.... - - * * * * * - -"Have you any objection to any members of this Court?" - -Ivor started at the question and looked round the cabin. Till then he -had not noticed his surroundings much. A Captain and several Commanders -in frock-coats and epaulettes were seated round a baize-covered table; -they were enclosed by a rope covered with green cloth, secured -breast-high to wooden pillars, also covered with green cloth. It was the -Captain's fore-cabin, and the bulkheads were covered with paintings of -ships. One of these in particular--a corvette close-hauled--arrested -Ivor's attention. The Deputy Judge-Advocate, a Paymaster with a -preternaturally grave face and slightly nervous manner, repeated his -question. - -"Do you object to being tried by any of the Officers present on the -Court?" Ivor moistened his lips; why on earth should they expect him to -object to them? An unknown Master-at-Arms standing beside him with a -drawn sword nudged him in the ribs. - -"No, sir." - -The Captains and Commanders then rose with a clank of swords, and swore -to administer justice without partiality, favour, or affection, in tones -that for a moment brought Ivor visions of a stuffy chapel (Ebenezer, -they called it) in far away Glamorganshire. Then the Judge-Advocate -turned to him again. - -"You need not plead either 'Guilty' or 'Not Guilty.' But if you wish to -plead 'Guilty' you may do so now." - -At last: "Guilty," said Ivor Jenkins. - -For an instant there was utter silence. The junior Commander stirred -slightly and glanced at the clock: he would have time for that round of -golf after all. - -The Prisoner's Friend then gave evidence, and Ivor experienced his first -sensation of interest at hearing himself described as an excellent -working hand, who had never given anything but satisfaction to his -superiors. A perspiring and obviously embarrassed Chief Stoker -followed. - -"The last man in the ship I'd 'a' thought 'ud do such a thing," he -maintained. Ivor glanced at him indulgently, as one who hears an -oft-repeated platitude, and resumed his study of the corvette -close-hauled. - -"Clear the Court," said the President briskly. Ivor found himself once -more in the lobby, sitting between his escort. One, a kindly man, -pressed a small, hard object into his hand. Ivor nodded imperceptible -thanks, and under cover of a cough, conveyed it to his mouth. It was a -plug of Navy tobacco. - -A bell rang overhead, and the prisoner was marched back into Court. - -"... to be imprisoned with hard labour for the term of twelve calendar -months." It was over. - - * * * * * - -"Now say 'Ah!' ... Again! ... Raise your arms ... H'm." The Surgeon -disentangled himself from his stethoscope and looked Ivor in the eyes. - -"My lad," he said bluntly, "it's Hospital for you--and too late at -that." - -In the Wardroom later on he met the Engineer Lieutenant. "I'd make a -better Prisoner's Friend than ever you will," he remarked. Pressed for -an explanation, he tapped the stethoscope-case in his pocket. - -"Consumption--galloping," he said. - -Perhaps Ivor had held the Ace of Trumps after all. - - - - - *XXII.* - - *CONCERNING THE SAILOR-MAN.* - - -"Able Seaman, Seaman Gunner, one Good Conduct Badge." Thus, with a -click of unaccustomed boot-heels, he might describe himself at the -monthly "Muster by open-list." In less formal surroundings, however, he -is wont to refer to himself as a "matlow," a designation not -infrequently accompanied by fervid embellishments. - -Occasionally he serves to adorn the moral of a temperance tract: a -reporter, hard pressed for police court news, may record one of his -momentary lapses from the paths of convention ashore. Otherwise -Literature knows him not. - -Generally speaking, his appearance is familiar enough, though it is to -be feared that the world--the unfamiliar world of streets and a shod -people, of garish "pubs" and pitfalls innumerable--does not invariably -see him at his best. The influence of the Naval Discipline Act relaxes -ashore, and not unnatural reaction inspires him with a desire to tilt -his cap on the back of his head and a fine indiscrimination in the -matter of liquid refreshment. - -But to be appreciated he must be seen in his proper sphere. On board -ship he is not required to play up to any romantic _rôle_: no one -regards him with curiosity or even interest, and he is in consequence -normal. Ashore, aware of observation, he becomes as unnatural as a -self-conscious child. A very genuine pride in his appearance is partly -the outcome of tradition and partly fostered by a jealous supervision of -his Divisional Lieutenant. A score of subtleties go to make up his rig, -and never was tide bound by more unswerving laws than those that set a -span to the width of his bell-bottomed trousers or the depth of his -collar. This collar was instituted by his forebears to protect their -jackets from the grease on their queues. The queue has passed away, but -the collar remains, and its width is 16 inches, no more, no less. The -triple row of tape that adorns its edge commemorates (so runs the -legend) the three victories that won for him his heritage; in perpetual -mourning for the hero of Trafalgar, the tar of to-day knots a black silk -handkerchief beneath it. It is doubtful whether he is aware of the -portent of these emblems, for he is not commonly of an inquiring turn of -mind, but they are as they were in the beginning, they must be "just -so," and that for him suffices. - -A number of factors go to make his speech the obscure jargon it has been -represented. Recruited from the North, South, East, and West, he brings -with him the dialect he spoke in childhood. And it were easier to -change the colour of a man's eyes than to take out of his mouth the -brogue he lisped in his cradle. A succession of commissions abroad -enriches his vocabulary with a smattering of half the tongues of -Earth--Arabic, Chinese, Malay, Hindustanee, and Japanese: smatterings -truly, and rightly untranslatable, but Pentecostal in their variety. -Lastly, and proclaiming his vocation most surely of all, are the undying -sea phrases and terms without which no sailor can express himself. Even -the objects of everyday life need translation. The floor becomes a deck, -stairs a hatchway, the window a scuttle or gun-port. There are others, -smacking of masts and yards, and the "Tar-and-Spunyarn" of a bygone -Navy; they are obsolete to-day, yet current speech among men who at -heart remain unchanged, in spite of Higher Education and the -introduction of marmalade and pickles into their scale of rations. The -tendency to emphasis that all vigorous forms of life demand, finds -outlet in the meaningless oaths that mar the sailor's speech. Lack of -culture denies him a wider choice of adjectives: the absence of privacy -or refinements in his mode of life, and a great familiarity from -earliest youth, would seem an explanation of, if not an excuse for, a -habit which remains irradicable in spite of well-meaning efforts to -counteract it. - -The conditions of Naval Service sever his home ties very soon in life. -The isolation from feminine and gentler influences that it demands is -responsible for the curiously intimate friendships and loyalty that -exist on the mess-deck of a man-of-war. With a friend the blue-jacket -is willing to share all his worldly possessions--even to the contents of -the mysterious little bag that holds his cleaning-rags, brick, and emery -paper. Since the work of polishing a piece of brass make no great -demand on his mental activity, the sailor chooses this time to "spin a -yarn," and, from the fact that the recipient of these low-voiced -quaintly-worded confidences usually shares his cleaning-rags, the tar -describes his friend as his "Raggie." To the uninitiated the word -signifies little, but to the sailor it represents all in his hard life -that "suffereth long and is kind." His love for animals, which is -proverbial, affords but another outlet for the springs of affection that -exist in all hearts, and, in his case, being barred wider scope, are -intensified. - -Outside events have for him but little interest. So long as he is not -called upon to bear a hand by his divinely appointed superior, while his -ration of rum and stand-easy time are not interfered with, the rise and -fall of dynasties, battle, murder, and sudden death, leave him -imperturbable and unmoved. Only when these are accompanied by -sufficiently gruesome pictorial representations in the section of the -press he patronises can they be said to be of much import to him. But he -dearly loves a funeral. - -His attitude towards his officers is commonly that demanded by an -austere discipline, and accompanied more often than not by real -affection and loyalty. He accepts punishment at the hands of his -Superior in the spirit that he accepts rain or toothache. Its justice -may be beyond his reasoning, but administered by the Power that rules -his paths, it is the Law, as irrevocable as Fate. - -Morally he has been portrayed in two lights. Idealists claim for him a -guilelessness of soul that would insult an Arcadian shepherd. To his -detractors he is merely a godless scoffer, rudely antagonistic to -Religion, a brand not even worth snatching from the burning. Somewhere -midway between these two extremes is to be found the man as he really -is, to whom Religion presents itself (when he considers the matter at -all) a form of celestial Naval Discipline tempered by sentimentality. - -But these are generalities, and may not apply to even a fraction of the -men in the Fleet to-day. Conditions of life and modes of thought on the -Lower Deck are even now changing as the desert sand, and those who live -among sailor-men would hesitate the most to unite their traits in one -comprehensive summary. It is only by glimpses here and there of -individuals who represent types that one may glean knowledge of the -whole. - -In the Ship's Office of a man-of-war are rows of neat brass-bound boxes, -and here are stowed the certificates of the Ship's Company, those of -each Class--seamen, engine-room ratings, marines, &c., being kept -separately. At the first sight there is little enough about these -prosaic documents to suggest romance or even human interest to the -ordinary individual. Yet if you read between the lines a little, -picking out an entry here and there among the hundreds of different -handwritings, you can weave with the aid of a little imagination all -manner of whimsical fancies. And if, at the end, the study of them -leaves you little wiser, it will be with a quickened interest in the -inner life of the barefooted, incomprehensible being on whose shoulders -will some day perchance fall the burden of your destiny and mine. - -The King's Regulations and Admiralty Instructions, with a flourish of -unwonted metaphor, refer to the document as "a man's passport through -life." The sailor himself, ever prone to generalities, describes his -Certificate as his "Discharge." In Accountant circles in which the -thing circulates it is known as a "Parchment." - -A Service Certificate--to give its official title--is a double sheet of -parchment with printed headings, foolscap size, which is prepared for -every man on first entry into the Service. At the outset it is -inscribed with his name, previous occupation and description, his -religion, the name and address of his next of kin, and the period of -service for which he engages. - -In due course, when he completes his training and is drafted to sea, his -Certificate accompanies him. As he goes from ship to ship, on pages 2 -and 3 are entered the records of his service, his rating, the names of -his ships, and the period he served in each. - -On 31st December in each year his Captain assesses in his own -handwriting, on page 4, the character and ability of each man in the -ship. These fluctuate between various stages from "Very Good" to -"Indifferent" in the former case; "Exceptional" to "Inferior" in the -latter. Here, too, appear the history of award and deprivation of Good -Conduct Badges; the more severe penalties of wrong-doing, such as cells -and imprisonment. Here, too, they must remain (for parchment cannot be -tampered with, and an alteration must be sanctioned by the Admiralty) in -perpetual appraisement or reproach until the man completes his -Engagement and his Certificate becomes his own property. - -The heading PREVIOUS OCCUPATION shows plainly enough the trades and -classes from which the Navy is recruited, and is interesting, if only -for the incongruity of the entries. They are most varied among the -Stokers' Certificates, as these men entered the Service later in life -than the Seamen. - -_Labourer_ suggests little save perhaps a vision of the Thames -Embankment at night, and the evidence that some one at least found a -solution of the Unemployment problem. But we may be wronging him. -Doubtless he had employment enough. Yet I still connect him with the -Embankment. At the bidding of the L.C.C. it was here he wielded pick -and crowbar until the sudden distant hoot of a syren stirred something -dormant within him: the barges sliding down-stream out of a smoky sunset -into the Unknown suggested a wider world. So he laid down his tools, -and his pay is now 2s. 1d. per diem: from his NEXT OF KIN notation he -apparently supports a wife on it. - -_Farm Hand_. Can you say what led him from kine-scented surroundings -and the swishing milk-pails to the stokehold of a man-of-war? Did the -clatter of the threshing-machine wake an echo of - - "... the bucket and clang of the brasses - Working together by perfect degree"? - - -Perhaps it was the ruddy glow of the hop-ovens by night that he -exchanged for the hell-glare of a battleship's furnaces. Or, as a final -solution, was it the later product of these same ovens, in liquid form, -that helped the Recruiting Officer? - -_Newspaper Vendor_. A pretty conceit, that Vendor! He has changed -vastly since he dodged about the Strand, hawking the world's news and -exchanging shrill obscenities with the rebuke of policemen and -cab-drivers. But the gutter-patois clings to him yet: and of nights you -may see him forward, seated on an upturned bucket, wringing discords of -unutterable melancholy from a mouth-organ. - -_Merchant Seaman--Golf Caddie_. He spat in the sand-box before making -your tee, and looked the other way when you miss your drive, if he was -as loyal as caddie as he is a sailor. _Errand Boy--Circus Artiste_. Of -a surety he was the clown, this last. His inability to forget his early -training has on more than one occasion introduced him to a cell and the -bitter waters of affliction. But he is much in demand at sing-songs and -during stand-easy time. - -Now here is one with a heavy black line ruled across his record on page -2, and in the margin appears the single letter "K" He is a recovered -deserter. He "ran," after eight years' service and stainless record. -Was it some red-lipped, tousle-haired siren who lured him from the paths -of rectitude? Did the galling monotony and austere discipline suddenly -prove too much for him? Was it a meeting with a Yankee tar in some -foreign grog-shop that tempted him with tales of a higher pay and -greater independence? Hardly the latter, I think, because they caught -him, and on page 4 of the tell-tale parchment appears the penalty--90 -days' Detention. - -Lastly: _Porter_. Where on earth did he shoulder trunks and bawl "By -y'r leave"? Was it amid the echoing vastness of a London terminus, with -its smoke and gloom? Or--and this I think the more probable--was it on -some sleepy branch-line that he rang a bell or waved a flag, collected -tickets, and clattered to and fro with fine effect in enormous hobnail -boots? Then one fine day ... but imagination falters here, leaving us -no nearer the reason why he exchanged his green corduroys for the jumper -and collar. And if we asked him (which we cannot very well), I doubt if -he could tell himself. - -They make a motley collection, these tinkers and tailors and -candlestick-makers, but in time they filter through the same mould, and -emerge, as a rule, vastly improved. You may sometimes encounter them, -in railway stations or tram-cars, returning on leave to visit a home -that has become no more than an amiable memory. - -And some day, maybe, you will advertise for a caretaker, or one to do -odd jobs about the house and garden, whose wife can do plain cooking. -Look out then for the man with tattooed wrists, and eyes that meet yours -unflinching from a weather-beaten face. He will come to apply in person -for the job--being no great scribe or believer in the power of the pen. -He will arrange his visit so as to arrive towards evening,--this being, -he concludes, your "stand-easy time." He wastes few words, but from the -breast-pocket of an obviously ready-made jacket he will produce a -creased and soiled sheet of parchment. - -It is the record of his life: and after two-and-twenty years through -which the frayed passport has brought him, at forty years of age, he -turns to you for employment and a life wherein (it is his one -stipulation) "there shall be no more sea." - - - - - *XXIII.* - - *THE GREATER LOVE.* - - -The sun was setting behind a lurid bank of cloud above the hills of -Spain, and, as is usual at Gibraltar about that hour, a light breeze -sprang up. It eddied round the Rock and scurried across the harbour, -leaving dark cat's-paws in its trail: finally it reached the inner mole, -alongside which a cruiser was lying. - -A long pendant of white bunting, that all day had hung listlessly from -the main top-mast, stirred, wavered, and finally bellied out astern, the -gilded bladder at the tail bobbing uneasily over the surface of the -water. - -The Officer of the Watch leaned over the rail and watched the antics of -the bladder, round which a flock of querulous gulls circled and -screeched. "The paying-off pendant[#] looks as if it were impatient," -he said laughingly to an Engineer Lieutenant standing at his side. - - -[#] A pendant, one-and-a-quarter times the length of the ship, flown by -ships homeward bound under orders to pay off. - - -The other smiled in his slow way and turned seaward, nodding across the -bay towards Algeciras. "Not much longer to wait--there's the steamer -with the mail coming across now." He took a couple of steps across the -deck and turned. "Only another 1200 miles. Isn't it ripping to think -of, after three years...?" He rubbed his hands with boyish -satisfaction. "All the coal in and stowed--boats turned in, funnels -smoking--that's what I like to see! Only the mail to wait for now: and -the gauges down below"--he waggled his forefinger in the air, -laughing,--"like that...!" - -The Lieutenant nodded and hitched his glass under his arm. "Your middle -watch, Shortie? Mine too: we start working up for our passage trial -then, don't we? Whack her up, lad--for England, Home, and Beauty!" - -The Engineer Lieutenant walked towards the hatchway. "What do you -think!" and went below humming-- - - "From Ushant to Scilly... - - -The Lieutenant on watch turned and looked up at the Rock, towering over -the harbour. Above the green-shuttered, pink and yellow houses, and -dusty, sun-dried vegetation, the grim pile was flushing rose-colour -against the pure sky. How familiar it was, he thought, this great -milestone on the road to the East, and mused awhile, wondering how many -dawns he had lain under its shadow: how many more sunsets he would watch -and marvel at across the purple Bay. - -"British as Brixton!" He had read the phrase in a book once, describing -Gibraltar. So it was, when you were homeward bound. He resumed his -measured pacing to and fro. The ferry steamer had finished her short -voyage and had gone alongside the wharf, out of sight behind an arm of -the mole. Not much longer to wait now. He glanced at his wrist-watch. -"Postie" wouldn't waste much time getting back. Not all the beer in -Waterport Street nor all the glamour of the "Ramps" would lure him -astray to-night. The Lieutenant paused in his measured stride and -beckoned a side-boy. "Tell the signalman to let me know directly the -postman is sighted coming along the mole." - -He resumed his leisurely promenade, wondering how many letters there -would be for him, and who would write. His mother, of course, ... and -Ted at Charterhouse. His speculations roamed afield. Any one else? -Then he suddenly remembered the Engineer Lieutenant imitating the -twitching gauge-needle with his forefinger. Lucky beggar he was. There -was some one waiting for him who mattered more than all the Teds in the -world. More even than a Mother--at least, he supposed.... His thoughts -became abruptly sentimental and tender. - -A signalman, coming helter-skelter down the ladder, interrupted them, as -the Commander stepped out of his cabin on to the quarter-deck. - -"Postman comin' with the mail, sir." - -A few minutes later a hoist of flags, whirled hurriedly to the masthead, -asking permission to proceed "in execution of previous orders." What -those orders were, even the paying-off pendant knew, trailing aft over -the stern-walk in the light wind. - - * * * * * - -The Rock lay far astern like a tinted shadow, an opal set in a blue-grey -sea. Once beyond the Straits the wind freshened, and the cruiser began -to lift her lean bows to the swell, flinging the spray aft along the -forecastle in silver rain. The Marine bugler steered an unsteady course -to the quarterdeck hatchway and sounded the Officers' Dinner Call. - - "Officers' wives eat puddings and pies, - But sailors' wives eat skilly..." - -chanted the Lieutenant of the impending first watch, swaying to the roll -of the ship as he adjusted his tie before the mirror. He thumped the -bulkhead between his cabin and the adjoining one. - -"Buck up, Shortie!" he shouted; "it's Saturday Night at Sea! Your night -for a glass of port." - -"Sweethearts and wives!" called another voice across the flat. "You'll -get drunk to-night, Snatcher, if you try to drink to all----" the voice -died away and rose again in expostulation with a Marine servant. "... -Well, does it _look_ like a clean shirt...!" - -"Give it a shake, Pay, and put it on like a man!" Some one else had -joined in from across the flat. The Engineer Lieutenant pushed his head -inside his neighbour's cabin: "Come along--come along! You'll be late -for dinner. Fresh grub to-night: no more 'Russian Kromeskis' and 'Fanny -Adams'!" - -"One second.... Right!" They linked arms and entered the Wardroom as -the President tapped the table for grace. The Surgeon scanned the menu -with interest. "Jasus! Phwat diet!" he ejaculated, quoting from an old -Service story. "Listen!" and read out-- - -"Soup: Clear." - -"That's boiled swabs," interposed the Junior Watch-keeper. - -"Mr President, sir, I object--this Officer's unladylike conversation." - -"Round of port--fine him!" interrupted several laughing voices. - -"Go on, Doc.; what next?" - -"Fish: 'Mullets.'" - -"Main drain loungers," from the Junior Watch-keeper. "Isn't he a little -Lord Fauntleroy--two rounds of port!" - -"_Entree_: Russian Kromeskis----" A roar of protest. - -"And----?" - -"Mutton cutlets." - -"Goat, he means. What an orgie! Go on; fain would we hear the worst, -fair chirurgeon," blathered the Paymaster. "Joint?" - -"Joint; mutton or----" - -"Princely munificence," murmured the First Lieutenant. "He's not a -messman: he's a--a--what's the word?" - -"Philanthropist. What's the awful alternative?" - -"There isn't any; it's scratched out." The A.P. and the Junior -Watch-keeper clung to each other. "The originality of the creature! And -the duff?" - -"Rice-pudding." - -"Ah me! alack-a-day! alas!" The Paymaster tore his hair. "I must -prophesy ... _must_ prophesy,--shut up, every one! Shut up!" He closed -his eyes and pawed the air feebly. "I'm a medium. I'm going to -prophesy. I feel it coming.... The savoury is ... the savoury -is"--there was a moment's tense silence--"sardines on toast." He opened -his eyes. "Am I right, sir? Thank you." - -The Surgeon leaned forward, and picking up the massive silver shooting -trophy that occupied the centre of the table, handed it to a waiter. - -"Take that to the Paymaster, please. First prize for divination and -second sight. And you, Snatcher--you'll go down for another round of -port if you keep on laughing with your mouth full." - -So the meal progressed. The "mullets" were disentangled from their -paper jackets amid a rustling silence of interrogation. The Worcester -sauce aided and abetted the disappearance of the Russian Kromeskis, as -it had so often done before. The mutton was voted the limit, and the -rice-pudding held evidences that the cook's hair wanted cutting. The -Junior Watch-keeper--proud officer of that functionary's division--vowed -he'd have it cut in a manner which calls for no description in these -pages. There weren't any sardines on toast. The Philanthropist -appeared in person, with dusky, upturned palms, to deplore the omission. - -"Ow! signor--olla fineesh! I maka mistake! No have got sardines, -signor...!" - -"Dear old Ah Ying!" sighed the Engineer Lieutenant, "I never really -loved him till this minute. Why did we leave him at Hong-Kong and -embark this snake-in-the-grass.... No sardines...!" - -But for all that every one seemed to have made an admirable meal, and -the Chaplain's "For what we have received, thank God!" brought it to a -close. The table was cleared, the wine decanters passed round, and once -again the President tapped with his ivory mallet. There was a little -silence-- - -"Mr Vice--the King!" - -The First Lieutenant raised his glass. "Gentlemen--the King!" - -"The King!" murmured the Mess, with faces grown suddenly decorous and -grave. At that moment the Corporal of the Watch entered; he glanced down -the table, and approaching the Junior Watch-keeper's chair saluted and -said something in an undertone. The Junior Watch-keeper nodded, finished -his port, and rose, folding his napkin. His neighbour, the Engineer -Lieutenant, leaned back in his chair, speaking over his shoulder-- - -"Your First Watch, James?" - -The other nodded. - -"Then," with mock solemnity, "may I remind you that our lives are in -your hands till twelve o'clock? Don't forget that, will you?" - -The Junior Watch-keeper laughed. "I'll bear it in mind." At the -doorway he turned with a smile: "It won't be the first time your -valuable life has been there." - -"Or the last, we'll hope." - -"We'll hope not, Shortie." - -The buzz of talk and chaff had again begun to ebb and flow round the -long table. The First Lieutenant lit a cigarette and began collecting -napkin-rings, placing them eventually in a row, after the manner of -horses at the starting-post. "Seven to one on the field, bar -one--Chief, your ring's disqualified. It would go through the ship's -side. Now, wait for the next roll--stand by! Clear that flower-pot----" - -"Disqualified be blowed! Why, I turned it myself when I was a student, -out of a bit of brass I stole----" - -"Can't help that; it weighs a ton--scratched at the post!" - -The Commander tapped the table with his little hammer-- - -"May I remind you all that it's Saturday Night at Sea?" and gave the -decanters a little push towards his left-hand neighbour. The First -Lieutenant brushed the starters into a heap at his side; the faintest -shadow passed across his brow. - -"So it is!" echoed several voices. - -"Now, Shortie, fill up! Snatcher, you'd better have a bucket.... -'There's a Burmah girl a-settin' an' I know she thinks,'--port, Number -One?" The First Lieutenant signed an imperceptible negation and pushed -the decanter round, murmuring something about hereditary gout. - -It was ten years since he had drunk that toast: since a certain tragic -dawn, stealing into the bedroom of a Southsea lodging, found him on his -knees at a bedside.... They all knew the story, as men in Naval Messes -afloat generally do know each other's tragedies and joys. And yet his -right-hand neighbour invariably murmured the same formula as he passed -the wine on Saturday nights at sea. In its way it was considered a -rather subtle intimation that no one wanted to pry into his sorrow--even -to the extent of presuming that he would never drink that health again. - -In the same way they all knew that it was the one occasion on which the -little Engineer Lieutenant permitted himself the extravagance of wine. -He was saving up to get married; and perhaps for the reason that he had -never mentioned the fact, every one not only knew it, but loved and -chaffed him for it. - -The decanters travelled round, and the First Lieutenant leaned across to -the Engineer Lieutenant, who was contemplatively watching the smoke of -his cigarette. There was a whimsical smile in the grave, level eyes. - -"I suppose we shall have to think about rigging a garland[#] before -long, eh?" - - -[#] A garland of evergreens is triced up to the triatic stay between the -masts on the occasion of an officer's marriage. - - -The other laughed half-shyly. "Yes, before long, I hope, Number One." - -Down came the ivory hammer-- - -"Gentlemen--Sweethearts and Wives!" - -"And may they never meet!" added the Engineer Commander. In reality the -most domesticated and blameless of husbands, it was the ambition of his -life to be esteemed a sad dog, and that, men should shake their heads -over him crying "Fie!" - -The First Lieutenant gathered together his silver rings. "Now then, -clear the table. She's rolling like a good 'un. Seven to one on the -field, bar----" - -"Speech!" broke in the Paymaster. "Speech, Shortie! Few words by a -young officer about to embark on the troubled sea of matrimony. Hints -on the Home----" - -The prospective bridegroom shook his head, laughing, and coloured in a -way rather pleasant to see. He rose, pushing in his chair. In the -inside pocket of his mess-jacket was an unopened letter, saved up-to -read over a pipe in peace, - -"My advice to you all is----" - -"'Don't,'" from the Engineer Commander. - -"Mind your own business," and the Engineer Lieutenant fled from the Mess -amid derisive shouts of "Coward!" The voice of the First Lieutenant -rose above the hubbub-- - -"Seven to one on the field--and what about a jump or two? Chuck up the -menu-card, Pay. Now, boys, roll, bowl, or pitch ... 'Every time a -blood-orange or a good see-gar'...!" - - * * * * * - -The Officer of the First Watch leaned out over the bridge rails, peering -into the darkness that enveloped the forecastle, and listening intently. -The breeze had freshened, and the cruiser slammed her way into a rising -sea, labouring with the peculiar motion known as a "cork-screw roll": -the night was very dark. Presently he turned and walked to the -chart-house door: inside, the Navigation Officer was leaning over the -chart, wrinkling his brows as he pencilled a faint line. - -"Pilot," said the other, "just step out here a second." - -The Navigator looked up, pushing his cap from his forehead. "What's -up?" - -"I think the starboard anchor is 'talking.' I wish you'd come and -listen a moment." The Navigator stepped out on to the bridge, closing -the chart-house door after him, and paused a moment to accustom his eyes -to the darkness. "Dark night, isn't it? Wind's getting up, too...." -He walked to the end of the bridge and leaned out. The ship plunged -into a hollow with a little shudder and then flung her bows upwards -into, a cascade of spray. A dull metallic sound detached itself from -the sibilant rushing of water and the beat of waves against the ship's -side, repeating faintly with each roll of the ship from the -neighbourhood of the anchor-bed. The Navigator nodded: "Yes, ... one of -the securing chains wants tautening, I should say. 'Saltash Luck'[#] -for some one!" He moved back into the chart-house and picked up the -parallel-rulers again. - - -[#] A thorough wetting. - - -The Lieutenant of the Watch went to the head of the ladder and called -the Boatswain's Mate, who was standing in the lee of the conning-tower -yarning with the Corporal of the Watch-- - -"Pipe the duty sub. of the watch to fall in with oilskins on; when -they're present, take them on to the forecastle and set up the securing -chain of the starboard bower-anchor. Something's worked loose. See that -any one who goes outside the rail has a bowline on." - -"Aye, aye, sir." The Boatswain's Mate descended the ladder, giving a -few preliminary "cheeps" with his pipe before delivering himself of his -tidings of "Saltash Luck" to the duty sub. of the port watch. - -The Officer of the Watch gave an order to the telegraph-man on the -bridge, and far below in the Engine-room they heard the clang of the -telegraph gongs. He turned into the chart-house and opened the ship's -log, glancing at the clock as he did so. Then he wrote with a stumpy bit -of pencil-- - -"9.18. Decreased speed to 6 knots. Duty Sub. secured starboard -bower-anchor." - -He returned to the bridge and leaned over the rail, straining his eyes -into the darkness and driving spray towards the indistinct group of men -working on the streaming forecastle. In the light of a swaying lantern -he could make out a figure getting out on to the anchor-bed; another was -turning up with a rope's end; he heard the faint click of a hammer on -metal. The ship lurched and plunged abruptly into the trough of a sea. -An oath, clear-cut and distinct, tossed aft on the wind, and a quick -shout. - -He turned aft and rushed to the top of the ladder, bawling down between -curved palms with all the strength of his lungs. - - * * * * * - -The Engineer Lieutenant who left the Wardroom after dinner did not -immediately go on deck. He went first to his cabin, where he filled and -lit a pipe, and changed his mess-jacket for a comfortable, loose-fitting -monkey-jacket. Then he settled down in his armchair, wedged his feet -against the bunk to steady himself against the roll of the ship, and -read his letter. Often as he read he smiled, and once he blinked a -little, misty-eyed. The last sheet he re-read several times. - -"... Oh, isn't it good to think of! It was almost worth the pain of -separation to have this happiness now--to know that every minute is -bringing you nearer. I wake up in the morning with that happy sort of -feeling that something nice is going to happen soon--and then I realise: -you are coming Home! I jump out of bed and tear another leaf off the -calendar,--there are only nine left now, and then comes one marked with -a big cross.... Do you know the kind of happiness that hurts? Or is it -only a girl who can feel it? ... I pray every night that the days may -pass quickly, and that you may come safely." - -It was a very ordinary little love-letter, with its shy admixture of -love and faith and piety: the sort so few men ever earn, and so many (in -Heaven's mercy) are suffered to receive. The recipient folded it -carefully, replaced it in its envelope, and put it in his pocket. Then -he lifted his head suddenly, listening.... - -Down below, the Engine-room telegraph gong had clanged, and the steady -beat of the engines slowed. With an eye on his wrist-watch he counted -the muffled strokes of the piston.... Decreased to 6 knots. What was -the matter? Fog? He rose and leaned over his bunk, peering through the -scuttle. Quite clear. He decided to light a pipe and go on deck for a -"breather" before turning in, and glanced at the little clock ticking on -the bulkhead. Twenty past nine; ten minutes walk on the quarter-deck -and then to bed. It was his middle watch. - -As he left his cabin some one in the Wardroom began softly playing the -piano, and the Paymaster's clear baritone joined in, singing a song -about somebody's grey eyes watching for somebody else. The Mess was -soaking in sentiment to-night: must be the effect of Saturday Night at -Sea he reflected. - -He reached the quarter-deck and stood looking round, swaying easily with -the motion of the ship. The sea was getting up, and the wind blew a -stream of tiny sparks from his pipe. Farther aft the sentry on the -life-buoys was mechanically walking his beat, now toiling laboriously up -a steep incline, now trying to check a too precipitous descent. The -Engineer Lieutenant watched him for a moment, listening to the notes of -the piano tinkling up through the open skylight from the Wardroom. - - "I know of two white arms - Waiting for me ..." - -The singer had started another verse; the Engineer Lieutenant smiled -faintly, and walked to the ship's side to stare out into the darkness. -Why on earth had they slowed down? A sudden impatience filled him. -Every minute was precious now. Why---- - -"MAN OVERBOARD. AWAY LIFEBOAT'S CREW!" Not for nothing had the Officer -of the Watch received a "Masts and Yards" upbringing; the wind forward -caught the stentorian shout and hurled it along the booms and battery, -aft to the quarter-deck where the little Engineer Lieutenant was -standing, one hand closed over the glowing bowl of his pipe, the other -thrust into his trousers pocket. - -The Engine-room telegraph began clanging furiously, the sound passing up -the casings and ventilators into the night; then the Boatswain's Mate -sent his ear-piercing pipe along the decks, calling away the lifeboat's -crew. The sentry on the life-buoys wrenched at the releasing knob of -one of his charges and ran across to the other. - -The leaden seconds passed, and the Engineer Lieutenant still stood -beside the rail, mechanically knocking the ashes from his pipe.... Then -something went past on the crest of a wave: something white that might -have been a man's face, or broken water showing up in the glare of a -scuttle.... A sound out of the darkness that might have been the cry of -a low-flying gull. - -Now it may be argued that the Engineer Lieutenant ought to have stayed -where he was. Going overboard on such a night was too risky for a man -whose one idea was to get home as quickly as possible--who, a moment -before, had chafed at the delay of reduced speed. Furthermore, he had -in his pocket a letter bidding him come home safely; and for three years -he had denied himself his little luxuries for love of her who wrote -it.... - -All the same--would she have him stand and wonder if that was a gull he -had heard...? - -Love of women, Love of life....! Mighty factors--almost supreme. Yet a -mortal has stayed in a wrecked stokehold, amid the scalding steam, to -find and shut a valve; Leper Settlements have their doctors and pastor; -and "A very gallant Gentleman" walks unhesitatingly into an Antarctic -blizzard, to show there is a love stronger and higher even than these. - -The Engineer Lieutenant was concerned with none of these fine thoughts. -For one second he did pause, looking about as if for somewhere to put -his pipe. Then he tossed it on to the deck, scrambled over the rail, -took a deep breath, and dived. - -The Marine sentry ran to the side of the ship. - -"_Christ!_" he gasped, and forsook his post, to cry the tale aloud along -the seething battery. - -The ship shuddered as the engines were reversed, and the water under the -stern began to seethe and churn. The Commander had left his cabin, and -was racing up to the bridge, as the Captain reached the quarterdeck. A -knot of officers gathered on the after-bridge. - -"Pin's out, sir!" shouted the Coxswain of the sea-boat, and added under -his breath, "Oars all ready, lads! Stan' by to pull like bloody -'ell--there's two of 'em in the ditch...." The boat was hanging a few -feet above the tumbling water. - -"Slip!" shouted a voice from the invisible fore-bridge. An instant's -pause, and the boat dropped with a crash on to a rising wave, There was -a clatter and thud of oars in row-locks; the clanking of the -chain-slings, and the boat, with her motley-clad[#] life-belted crew, -slid off down the slant of a wave. For a moment the glare of an electric -light lit the faces of the men, tugging and straining grimly at their -oars; then she vanished, to reappear a moment later on the crest of a -sea, and disappeared again into the darkness. - - -[#] Any one near the boat responds to the call "Away Life-boat's crew!" - - -The Commander on the fore-bridge snatched up a megaphone, shouting -down-wind-- - -"Pull to starboard, cutter! Make for the life-buoy light!" - -The watchers on the after-bridge were peering into the night with -binoculars and glasses. The A.P. extended an arm and forefinger: -"There's the life-buoy--there! ... Now--there! D'you see it? You can -just see the flare when it lifts on a wave.... Ah! That's better!" - -The dazzling white beam from a search-light on the fore-bridge leaped -suddenly into the night. "Now we can see the cutter--" the beam wavered -a moment and finally steadied. "Yes, there they are.... I say, there's -a devil of a sea running." - -"Ripping sea-boats our Service cutters are," said another, staring -through his glasses. "They'll live in almost anything; but this isn't a -dangerous sea. The skipper 'll turn in a minute and make a lee for -them." - -"Think old Shortie reached the buoy?" - -"Probably swimming about looking for the other fellow, if I know -anything of him; who did he go in after?" - -"One of the duty sub.--they were securing the anchor or something -forward, and the bowline slipped----" - -"By gad! He's got him! There's the buoy--yes, two of them. _Good_ old -Shortie.... My God! _Good_ old Shortie!" The speaker executed a sort -of war-dance and trod on the Paymaster's toes. - -"When you've quite finished, Snatcher.... By the way, what about -hot-water bottles--blankets--stimulants.... First aid: come along! -'Assure the patient in a loud voice that he is safe.' ... 'Aspect -cheerful but subdued.' ... I learned the whole rigmarole once!" - -From the fore upper bridge the Captain was handling his ship like a -picket-boat. - -"'Midships--steady! Stop both!" He raised his mouth from the -voice-pipe to the helmsman, and nodded to the Officer of the Watch. -"She'll do now.... The wind 'll take her down." - -The Commander leaned over the rail and called the Boatswain's Mate-- - -"Clear lower deck! Man the falls!" - -The ranks of men along the ship's side turned inboard, and passed the -ropes aft, in readiness to hoist the boat. There were three hundred men -on the falls, standing by to whisk the cutter to the davit-heads like a -cockle-shell. - -"They've got 'em--got 'em both!" murmured the deep voices: they spat -impatiently. "What say, lads? Stamp an' go with 'er?" - -"Silence in the battery! _Marry_!" - -The Commander was leaning over the bridge rails; the Surgeon and two -Sick-berth Stewards were waiting by the davits. Alongside the cutter -was rising and falling on the waves.... - -"All right, sir!" The voice of the Coxswain came up as if from the -deep. They had hooked the plunging boat on somehow, and his thumb-nail -was a pulp.... - -Three hundred pairs of eyes turned towards the fore-bridge. - -"_Hoist away!_" - -No need for the Boatswain's Mate to echo the order; no need for the -Petty Officers' "With a will, then, lads!" They rushed aft in a wild -stampede, hauling with every ounce of beef and strength in their bodies. -The cutter, dripping and swaying, her crew fending her off the rolling -ship with their stretchers, shot up to the davits. - -"High 'nough!" - -The rush stopped like one man. Another pull on the after-fall--enough. -She was hoisted. "_Walk back! ... Lie to!_" - -A tense silence fell upon the crowded battery: the only sound that of -men breathing hard. A limp figure was seen descending the Jacob's -ladder out of the boat, assisted by two of the crew. Heady hands were -outstretched to help, and the next moment Willie Sparling, Ordinary -Seaman, Official Number 13728, was once more on the deck of a -man-of-war--a place he never expected to see again. - -"Ow!" He winced, "Min' my shoulder--it's 'urted...." He looked round at -the familiar faces lit by the electric lights, and jerked his head back -at the boat hanging from her davits. "_'E_ saved my life--look after -'im. 'E's a ... e's a--bleedin' 'ero, ..." and Willie Sparling, with a -broken collar-bone, collapsed dramatically enough. - -The Engineer Lieutenant swung himself down on to the upper deck and -stooped to wring the water from his trousers. The Surgeon seized him by -the arm--- - -"Come along, Shortie--in between the blankets with you!" - -The hero of the moment disengaged his arm and shook himself like a -terrier. "Blankets be blowed--it's my Middle Watch." - -The Surgeon laughed. "Plenty of time for that: it's only just after -half-past nine. What about a hot toddy?" - -"Lord! I thought I'd been in the water for hours.... Yes, by Jove! a -hot toddy----" He paused and looked round, his face suddenly anxious. -"By the way, ... 'any one seen a pipe sculling about...?" - -Down below the telegraph gongs clanged, and the ship's bows swung round -on to her course, heading once more for England, Home, and Beauty. - - - - - *XXIV.* - - *"A PICTURESQUE CEREMONY."* - - -"S---- Parish Church was, yesterday afternoon, the scene of a -picturesque ceremony...."--_Local Paper_. - - -The Torpedo Lieutenant (hereinafter known as "Torps") was awakened by -the June sunlight streaming in through the open scuttle of his cabin. -Overhead the quarterdeck-men were busy scrubbing decks: the grating -murmur of the holystones and swish of water from the hoses, all part of -each day's familiar routine, sent his eyes round to the clock ticking on -the chest of drawers. - -For a while he lay musing, watching with thoughtful gaze the disc of -blue sky framed by the circle of the scuttle; then, as if in obedience -to a sudden resolution, he threw back the bed-clothes and hoisted -himself out of his bunk. Slipping his feet into a pair of ragged -sandals, he left his cabin and walked along the flat till he came to -another a few yards away; this he entered, drawing the curtain -noiselessly. - -The occupant of the bunk was still asleep, breathing evenly and quietly, -one bare forearm, with the faint outline of a snake tattooed upon it, -lying along the coverlet. For a few moments the new-comer stood -watching the sleeper, the corners of his eyes creased in a little smile. -Men sometimes smile at their friends that way, and at their dogs. The -face on the pillow looked very boyish, somehow, ... he hadn't changed -much since _Britannia_ days, really; and they had been through a good -deal between then and now. Wholesome, lean old face it was; no wonder a -woman... - -The sleeper stirred, sighed a little, and opened his eyes. For a moment -they rested, clear and direct as an awakened child's, on Torps' face; -then he laughed a greeting-- - -"Hullo, Torps!" He yawned and stretched, and rising on one elbow, -thrust his head out of the scuttle. "Thank Heaven for a fine day! -Number One back from leave yet?" - -"Yes, he's back: you're quite safe." - -The other lay back in the bunk. "Has Phillips brought my tea yet?" He -looked round helplessly. "What an awful pot-mess my cabin is in. Those -are presents that came last night--they've all got to be packed. What's -the time? Why, it's only half-past seven! Torps, you are the limit! I -swear I've always read in books that fellows stayed in bed till lunch on -these occasions, mugging up the marriage-service. I'm not going to get -up in the middle of the night--be blowed if I do!" - -Torps lit a cigarette. "That's only in books. We'll have breakfast, -and take your gear up to the hotel, and then we'll play nine holes of -golf--just to take our minds off frivolous subjects." - -"Golf! My dear old ass, I couldn't drive a yard!" - -"Well, you're going to have a try, anyway. Everything's arranged that -can be: you aren't allowed to drink cocktails; you can't see Her--till -two o'clock. You'd fret yourself into a fever here in bed--what else do -you think you're going to do?" - -The prospective bridegroom stirred his tea in silence. "Well, I suppose -there's something in all that; pass me a cigarette--there's a box just -there.... Oh, thanks, old bird; don't quite know why I should be -treated as if I were an irresponsible and feeble-minded invalid, just -because I'm going to be married." - -The Best Man laughed. "How d'you feel about it yourself?" - -"H'm.... D'you remember one morning at Kao-chu--was that the name of -the place? It began to dawn, and we saw those yellow devils coming up, -a thousand or so of the blighters: we had a half-company and no maxim, -d'you remember? It was dev'lish cold, and we wanted our breakfasts, ... -and we were about sixteen?" - -Torps smiled recollection. "Bad's that?" - -"Very nearly." - -"I remember--what they call in the quack advertisements 'That Sickish -Feeling'! Never mind, turn out and scrape your face; you'll feel much -better after your bath----" - -Outside in the flat the voice of some one carolling drew near-- - -"_For_ ... it is ... my _wed_--ding _MOR-_ ... ning....!" - -The victim groaned. "Oh Lord! Now they're going to start being comic." - -"All right; it's only the Indiarubber Man."[#] The curtain was drawn -back and a smiling face, surmounted by a shock of ruddy hair, thrust -into the cabin-- - - -[#] Lieutenant for Physical Training Duties. - - -"'Morning, Guns! Many happy returns of the day, and all that sort of -thing. Merry and bright?" - -The Gunnery Lieutenant forced a wan smile. "Quite--thanks." - -"That's right! And our Torps in attendance with smelling salts.... -Condemned man suffered Billington to pinion him without Resistance----" - -The bridegroom sat up, searching for a missile. "Look here, for -goodness' sake.... That 'Condemned man' business 's been done before. -All the people who tell funny stories about fellows being married----" - -"Tut, tut! Tuts in two places! A pretty business, forsooth! Sense of -humour going. Beginning of the end. Fractious. Tongue furred, for all -we know.... Where's the Young Doc.? I suggest a thorough medical -examination before it's too late----" Another face appeared grinning in -the doorway. "Why, here he is! Doc., don't you think a stringent -medical examination----" - -The Gunnery Lieutenant crawled reluctantly out of his bunk. "You two -needn't come scrapping in here. I'm going to shave, and I don't want to -cut my face off!" - -The visitors helped themselves to cigarettes. "We don't want to scrap: -we want to see you shave, Guns. Watch him lathering himself with aspen -hand!" They explored the cardboard-boxes and parcels that littered all -available space. "Did you ever see such prodigal generosity as the -man's friends display! Toast-rack--no home complete without -one--Card-case!"--they probed among the tissue wrappings. "Case of -pipes.... Handsome ormulu timepiece, suitably inscribed. My Ghost! -Guns--almost thou persuadest me ..." - -"Yes, those things came last night: people are awfully kind----" - -The Torpedo Lieutenant intervened. "Come on, give him a chance--I'll -never get him dressed with you two messing about." - -The Gunnery Lieutenant grinned above the lather at his reflection in the -mirror. "D'you hear that! That's the way he's been going on ever since -I woke up. One would think I had G.P.I.!" The visitors prepared to -depart. "You have my profound sympathy, Torps," said the Surgeon. "I -was Best Man to a fellow once--faith, I kept him under morphia till it -was all over. He was practically no trouble." - -"Now I'm going to get my bath," said the Torpedo Lieutenant when the -well-wishers had taken their departure. "Shove on any old clothes: -we'll send your full-dress up to the hotel, and your boxes to the house; -and you needn't worry your old head about anything." - -Torps left the cabin; there was a tap at the door and a private of -Marines entered, surveying the Gunnery Lieutenant with affectionate -regard. "I just come in to see if we was turnin' out, sir. Razor all -right? Better 'ave a 'ot bath this mornin', sir!" His master's -unaccountable predilection for immersing his body in cold water every -morning was a custom that not even twelve years of familiarity had -robbed of its awfulness. "I strip right down an' 'ad a bath meself, -sir, mornin' I was spliced," he admitted, as one who condones generously -an inexplicable weakness, "but it were a 'ot one. You'd best 'ave it -'ot, sir!" - -His master laughed. "No, thanks, Phillips; it's all right as it is. -Will you be up at the house this afternoon and lend a hand, after the -ceremony?" - -The Private of Marines nodded sorrowfully. "I understands, sir. I bin -married meself--I knows all the routine, as you might say." He departed -with a sigh that left a faint reminiscence of rum in the morning air, -and the Gunnery Lieutenant proceeded with his toilet, humming a little -tune under his breath. Half an hour later he entered the Wardroom clad -in comfortable grey flannels and an old shooting-coat. The Mess, -breakfasting, received him with a queer mixture of chaff and solicitude. -The First Lieutenant grinned over a boiled egg: "Guns, sorry I couldn't -get back earlier to relieve you, but 'urgent private affairs,' you -know." - -"All right, Number One! As long as you got back before two o'clock this -afternoon, that's all I cared about." He helped himself to bacon and -poured out a cup of coffee. - -"Marvellous!" The Indiarubber Man opposite feigned breathless interest -in his actions, and murmured something into his cup about condemned men -partaking of hearty breakfasts. - -"Come on, that's enough of the 'Condemned man'! You'd better find out -something about a Groomsman's duties," said the Best Man, coming to the -rescue of his principal. - -"Am I a Groomsman? So I am--I'd forgotten. What do I do? Show people -to their seats: 'this way please, madam, second shop through on the -right.' ... Have you any rich aunts, Guns? 'Pon my word, I might get -off this afternoon--you never know. 'Every nice girl loves a -sailor....' Which of the lucky bridesmaids falls to my lot? Do I kiss -the bride...?" - -"You try it on," retorted the prospective husband grimly.' - -"Can't I kiss anybody," inquired the Indiarubber Man plaintively. - -"Not if they see you coming, I shouldn't think," cut in the Paymaster -from behind his paper. - -"Then the head waiter and I will retire behind a screen and get quietly -drunk--I don't suppose anybody will want to kiss him either: they never -do, somehow. We shall drift together, blighted misogamists...." - -The Engineer Commander glowered at the speaker. "Suppose ye reserve a -little of this unpar-r-ralleled wit----" - -"I will, Chief--beg pardon. But there's something about a wedding -morning--don't you know? Screams-of-fun-and-roars-of-laughter sort of -atmosphere." He looked round the silent table. "Now I've annoyed -everybody. Ah, me! What it is to have to live with mouldy messmates, -..." and the Indiarubber Man drifted away to the smoking-room. - -"He ought to keep your little show from getting dull this afternoon," -said the First Lieutenant. - -The Gunnery Lieutenant laughed. "Yes, it's pleasant to find some one -who does regard it as a joke. The only trouble is that his bridesmaid -is my young sister, a flapper from school, and I know he'll make her -giggle in the middle of the service. She doesn't want much -encouragement at any time." The speaker finished a leisurely breakfast -and filled his pipe. - -"Now then, Torps, I'm ready for you and your nine holes...." - - - - *II.* - - -The Gunnery Lieutenant sat down and began laboriously dragging on his -Wellington boots. His Best Man stood in front of the glass adjusting -the medals on the breast of his full-dress coat. This concluded to his -satisfaction, he picked up a prayer-book from the dressing-table-- - -"Now, then, Guns, a 'dummy-run,'" and read; "N. Wilt thou have this -woman----" - -"Why 'N'?" objected the prospective bridegroom. - -"Dunno, It says 'N' here." - -"I've never heard a parson say 'N,'" ventured the other, "but it's years -since I saw a wedding--chuck me my braces--Well, go on." The Best Man -continued. - -"I know that part. That's the 'I will' business,--by the way, where's -the ring? Don't, for Heaven's sake, let it out of your sight--are my -trousers hitched up too high...?" - -"No, they're all right. Then you say: 'I, N, take thee, N----'" - -"More N's. We can't both be N--must be a misprint...." He seized the -book. "Have I got to learn all that by heart? Why don't they have a -Short Course at Greenwich, or Whaley, or somewhere, about these things. -"I, 'N,' take thee, 'N'"--he began reading the words feverishly. - -"No--that's all right. You repeat it after the parson. And you say, -'I, John Willie,' or whatever your various names might be, 'take thee, -Millicent'--d'you see? Here, let me fix that epaulette." - -"Give me a cigarette, for Heaven's sake." He hurriedly scanned the -pages. "Ass I was to leave it so late.... What awful things they talk -about.... Why didn't I insist on a Registry Office? Or can't you get -married over a pair of tongs somewhere--what religion's that?" - -"Don't know--Gretna Green, or something. It's too late now. Do stand -still.... Right! Where's your sword.... Gloves?" He stepped back and -surveyed his handiwork, smiling his whimsical, half-grave smile. For a -few seconds the two men stood looking at each other, and the thoughts -that passed through their minds were long, long thoughts. - -"You'll do," said the Torpedo Lieutenant at length, but there was an -absent look in his eyes, as though his thoughts had gone a long way -beyond the spare, upright figure in blue and gold. In truth they had: -back fifteen years or more to a moonlit night in the club garden at -Malta. Two midshipmen had finished dinner (roast chicken, rum-omelette, -"Scotch-woodcock," and all the rest of it), and were experimenting -desperately with two cigars. It was Ladies' Night, and down on the -terrace a few officers' wives were dining with their husbands; the -Flagship's band was playing softly. - -"A fellow must make up his mind, Bill," one of the midshipmen had said. -"It's either one thing or the other--either the Service or Women. You -can't serve both; and it seems to me that the Service ought to come -first." And there and then they had vowed eternal celibacy for the -benefit of the Navy, upon which, under the good providence of God, the -Honour, Safety, and Welfare of the Nation do most chiefly depend. - -Fifteen years ago...! - -"You'll do," repeated the Torpedo Lieutenant in a matter-of-fact tone, -and rang the bell. - -Private Phillips of the Royal Marine Light Infantry entered with a -gold-necked bottle and two tumblers. The cork popped and the two -officers raised their glasses-- - -"Happy days!" said Torps. - -"Salue!" replied the other, and for a moment his eyes rested on his Best -Man with something half-wistful in their regard. "D'you remember -Aldershot...? The Middles: you seconded me, and we split a bottle -afterwards...?" - -Torps nodded, smiling. "But this is 'Just before the battle, mother!'" -They moved towards the door, and for a moment he rested his hand on the -heavy epaulette beside his. "An' if you make as good a show of this as -you did that afternoon, you won't come to no 'arm, old son." - - - - *III.* - - -They were greeted at the church door by the beaming Indiarubber Man. - -"Come along in--spot or plain?--I mean Bride or Bridegroom? Bride's -friends on the left and Bridegroom's on the right--or is it the other -way about? I'm getting so rattled.... I've just put the old caretaker -in a front pew under the impression that it was your rich aunt, Guns! -What a day, what a day! Got the ring, Torps? Here come the -Bridesmaids, bless 'em! Go on, you two, get up into your proper -billets.... 'The condemned man walked with unfaltering step'--oh, -sorry, I forgot...." - - -The Groomsmen slid into their pew with much rattling of sword-scabbards -and nodding of heads and whispering. On their gilded shoulders appeared -to lie the responsibility of the whole affair. - -The Bridegroom took up his appointed place and stood, his hands linked -behind his back, looking down the aisle to where the choir was -gathering. The church seemed a sea of faces, glinting uniforms, and -women's finery. Who on earth were they all? He had no idea he knew so -many people.... Quite sure Millicent didn't.... How awful it must be to -have to preach a sermon.... The faint scent of lilies drifted up to -where he was standing. At his side Torps shifted his feet, and the -ferrule of his scabbard clinked on the aisle. Dear old Torps! ... How -he must be hating it all. - -There was a faint stir at the entrance. The Bridesmaids' black velvet -hats and white feathers were bobbing agitatedly. He caught a glimpse of -a white-veiled figure. People were turning round, staring and -whispering. Dash it all! It wasn't a circus.... What did they think -they were here for? - -"There she is," murmured Torps. "Not much longer now." - -The clergyman was giving out the number of a hymn from the back of the -church somewhere, and the deep, sweet notes of the organ poured out over -their heads: then the voices of the choir-boys swelled up, drawing -nearer.... Again the scent of lilies. - -"Stand by," from Torps, tensely. - -The choir-boys filed past, singing; one had on a red tie that peeped -above his cassock. They glanced at him indifferently as they went by, -their heads on a level with his belt-buckle.... Then the white-veiled -figure on the Colonel's arm--Millicent: his, in a few short minutes, for -ever and aye.... He drew a deep breath. - -"_Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of -God...._" Torps touched him lightly on the elbow. - - * * * * * - -"_I, John Mainprice Edgar..._" - -"I, John Mainprice Edgar:" - -"_Take thee, Millicent..._" - -"Take thee, Millicent:" - - * * * * * - -"_To have and to hold..._" - -This was simple enough--"To have and to hold:" - - * * * * * - -"And thereto I plight thee my troth." - -How warm and steady the small hand was, lying in his: then gently -withdrawn. Torps was trying to attract attention--What was his trouble? -The ring--Of course, the ring.... - - * * * * * - -"_Those whom, God hath joined together let no man put asunder._" - - * * * * * - -Life's haven at last! Or had all life been a cruise within the harbour: -and this the beat to open sea ... The Brave Adventure? - - * * * * * - -"_The peace of God which passeth all understanding ... remain with you -now and for evermore._" - - * * * * * - -There was a whisper of silken petticoats, and the clink of swords seems -to fill the church: then, dominating all other sounds for a moment, the -old Colonel blowing his nose vehemently.... - -Down the aisle again, the organ thundering familiar strains--familiar, -yet suddenly imbued with a personal and intimate message,--Millicent's -arm resting on his, trembling ever so lightly.... - - -In the warm, bouquet-scented gloom of the vestry they gathered, and -Torps wrung the Bridegroom's hand in a hard, unaccustomed grip--Torps -with his winning, half-sad smile, and the hair over his temples showing -the first trace of grey.... The bride finished signing the register, -and rose smiling, with the veil thrown back from her fair face. In -later years he found himself recalling a little sadly (as the happiest -of bachelors may do at times) the queer, shining gladness in her eyes. -He bent and touched the warm cheek with his lips. - -Then for a minute every one seemed to fall a-kissing. Father and -daughter, Mother and son, newly-made brothers- and sisters-in-law sought -each other in turn. The Bridegroom's Lady Mother kissed the Indiarubber -Man because no one else seemed to want to, and they were such old -friends. The Clergyman kissed two of the Bridesmaids because he was -their uncle, and the Colonel (who had stopped blowing his nose and was -cheering up) kissed the other two because he wasn't. In the middle of -all this pleasant exercise Torps, who had vanished for a minute, -reappeared to announce that the Arch of Swords was ready and the -carriages were alongside. - -So the procession formed up once more: Bride and Bridegroom, the Colonel -and the Bridegroom's Lady Mother: Torps leading the Bridegroom's new -sister-in-law (and a very pretty sister-in-law she was), the Flapper and -the Indiarubber Man, a girl called Etta Someone on the Junior -Watch-keeper's arm, and another called Doris Somebody Else under the -escort of the A.P. They all passed beneath the arch of naked blades -held up by the Bridegroom's messmates and friends, to receive a running -fire of chaff and laughing congratulation; to find outside in the golden -afternoon sunshine that the horses had been taken from the -carriage-traces, and a team of lusty blue-jackets, all very perspiring -and serious of mien, waiting to do duty instead. - - - - *IV.* - - -Private Phillips, R.M.L.I., in all subsequent narrations of the events -of the day--and they were many and varied--was wont to preface each -reminiscence with "Me an' the Torpedo Lootenant..." And indeed he did -both indefatigable workers bare justice. Whether it was opening -carriage doors or bottles of champagne, fetching fresh supplies of -glasses or labelling and strapping portmanteaux, Private Phillips -laboured with the same indomitable stertorous energy. He accepted -orders with an omniscient and vehement nod of the head; usurped the -duties of enraptured maid-servants with, "You leave me do it, Miss--I -bin married meself. I knows the routine, as you might say...." - -And Torps, superintending the distribution of beer to panting -blue-jackets (whose panting, in some cases, was almost alarming in its -realism); fetching cups of tea for stout dowagers, and ices for giggling -schoolgirls; begging a sprig from the bridesmaids' bouquets; tipping -policemen; opening telegrams; yet always with an attention ready for the -Bridegroom's aunt who remembered Guns as such a _little_ boy.... -Helpful even to the ubiquitous reporter of the local paper.... - -"A picturesque ceremony--if I may say so. A _most_ picturesque -ceremony." The reporter would feel for his notebook. "Might I ask who -that tall Officer is with the medals...? My Paper----" And Torps, with -his gentle manners and quiet smile, would supply the information to the -best of his ability, conscious that at a wedding there are harder lots -even than the Best Man's.... - -The Indiarubber Man drifted disconsolately about in the crush, finally -coming to a momentary anchorage in a corner beside his Bridesmaid. - -"Miss Betty, no one loves me, and I'm going into the garden"--he dropped -his voice to a confidential undertone--"to eat worms." - -The girl giggled weakly. "Please don't make me laugh any more! Won't -you stay here and have an ice instead? I'm sure it would be much better -for you." - -"Would it, d'you think? I've been watching the sailors drinking beer. -Have you ever seen a sailor drink beer, Miss Betty? It's a grim sight." - -She shook her head, and there was both laughter and reproach in the -young eyes considering him over the bouquet. "You forsook me--and a -nice Midshipman had pity on my loneliness and brought me an ice." - -The Indiarubber Man eyed her sorrowfully. "I turn my back for a moment -to watch sailors drink beer--I am a man of few recreations--and return -to find you sighing over the memory of another and making shocking bad -puns. Really, Miss Betty--Ah! _Now_ I can understand...." - -A small and pink-faced Midshipman approached with two brimming glasses -of champagne. The Indiarubber Man faded discreetly away, leaving his -charge and her new-found knight pledging each other with sparkling eyes. - -The Bride touched her husband's sleeve in a lull in the handshaking and -congratulations. "Isn't it rather nice to see people enjoying -themselves! Don't you feel as if you wanted everybody to be as happy as -we?--_Look_ at Betty and that boy.... Champagne, if you please! How -ill the child will be; and she's got to go back to school to-morrow...." - -Her husband laughed softly. "Pretty little witch.... Torps has taken -it away from her and given her some lemonade instead. Where's -Mother?--Oh, I see: hobnobbing with the Colonel over a cup of tea. What -a crush! Dear, can't we escape soon....?" - -"Very soon now--poor boy, are you very hot in those things?" - -"Not very. The worst part's coming--the rice and slippers and -good-byes. Are you very tired, darling...?" - - * * * * * - -"Good-bye--Good-bye! Good-bye, Daddie.... Yes, yes.... I will.... -Good-bye, Betty darling.... Good-bye----" - - * * * * * - -"Good-bye, Mother mine.... Torps, you've been a brick..... So-long! -Good-bye! ... Not down my neck, Betty! ... Yes, I've got the tickets---- -Good-bye, Good-bye!----" - - * * * * * - -The lights of Dover were twinkling far astern. Two people, a man and a -woman, walked to the stern of the steamer and stood close together, -leaning over the rail. - -"What a lot of Good-byes we've said to-day," murmured the woman, -watching the pin-points of light that vanished and reappeared. She fell -silent, as if following a train of thought, "And after all, we're only -going to Paris!" - -"We're going further than that----" The man took possession of her -slim, ungloved hands, and the star-powdered heavens alone were witness -to the act. "All the way to El Dorado, darling!" - -She gave him back the pressure of his fingers, and presently sighed a -little, happily, as a child sighs in its sleep. "And we haven't any -return tickets...." - - - - *V.* - - -The members of the wedding party returned to the ship and straggled into -the Mess. Each one as he entered unbuckled his sword-belt, loosened his -collar, and called for strong waters. A gloom lay upon the gathering: -possibly the shadow of an angel's wing. - -"I feel as if I'd been to a funeral," growled the Paymaster. "Awful -shows these weddings are!" - -"Poor old Guns!" said the A.P. lugubriously. - -"She's a jolly nice girl, any way," maintained the Young Doctor. - -"Yes," sighed the Junior Watch-keeper, "but still.... He _was_ a good -chap...." - -The Indiarubber Man was the last to enter. He added his sword to the -heap already on the table, glanced at the solemn countenances of his -messmates, and lit a cigarette. - -"_Sunt rerum lachrimæ_. I am reminded of a harrowing story," he began, -leaning against the tiled stove, "recounted to me by a--a lady. - -"We met in London, at a place of popular entertainment, and our -acquaintance was, judged by the standards of conventionality, perhaps -slender." The Indiarubber Man paused and looked gravely from face to -face. "However," he continued, "encouraged by my frank open countenance -and sympathetic manner, she was constrained to tell the story of how she -once loved and lost...." - -The narrator broke off and appeared to have forgotten how the story went -on, in dreamy contemplation of his cigarette. The mess waited in -silence: at length the Junior Watch-keeper could bear it no longer. - -"What _did_ she tell you?" - -The Indiarubber Man thoughtfully exhaled a cloud of smoke. "She said: -'Pa shot 'im.... Sniff!--_'Ow_ I loved 'im.... Sniff!--Lor', 'ow 'e did -bleed.' ..." - - - - - *XXV.* - - *WHY THE GUNNER WENT ASHORE.* - - -The evening mail had come, and Selby sat alone in his cabin mechanically -reading and re-reading a letter. Finally he tore it up into very small -pieces and held them clenched in his hand, staring very hard at nothing -in particular. - -He was engaged to be married: or to be more precise, he had been -engaged. The letter that had come by the evening mail said that this -was not so any longer. - -The girl who wrote it was a very straight-forward person who hated -concealment of facts because they were unpleasant. It had become -necessary to tell Selby that she couldn't love him any longer, and, -faith, she had told him. Further, by her creed, it was only right that -she should tell him about Someone Else as well. - -It was all very painful, and the necessity for thus putting things to -Selby in their proper light, had cost her sleepless nights, red eyes, -and much expensive notepaper, before the letter was finally posted. But -she did hope he would realise it was For the Best, ... and some day he -would be so thankful.... It had all been a Big Mistake, because she -wasn't a bit what he thought, ... and so forth. A very distressing -letter to have to write, and, from Selby's point of view, even more -distressing to have to read. - -Few men enjoy being brought up against their limitations thus abruptly, -especially where Women and Love are concerned. In Selby's case was -added the knowledge that another had been given what he couldn't hold. -He had made a woman love him, but he couldn't make her go on loving -him.... He was insufficient unto the day. - -Critics with less biassed judgment might have taken a different point of -view: might have said she was a jilt, or held she acted a little -cruelly: gone further, even, and opined he was well out of it. But -Selby was one of those who walk the earth under a ban of idealism and -had never been seriously in love before. She was the Queen who could do -no wrong. It was he who had been weighed and found wanting. If only he -had acted differently on such and such an occasion. If, in short, -instead of being himself he had been somebody quite different all -along.... - -Succeeding days and nights provided enough matches and sulphur of this -sort to enable him to fashion a sufficiently effective purgatory, in -which his mind revolved round its hurt like a cockchafer on a pin. - -When a man depends for the efficient performance of his duties upon -getting his just amount of sleep (Selby was a watch-keeping Lieutenant -in a battleship of the line), affairs of this sort are apt to end in -disaster. But his ship went into Dockyard hands to refit, and Selby, -who was really a sensible enough sort of fellow, though an idealist, -realised that for his own welfare and that of the Service it were -"better to forget and smile than remember and be sad." Accordingly he -applied for and obtained a week's leave, bought a map of the surrounding -district, packed a few necessaries into a light knapsack, and set off to -walk away his troubles. - -For a day he followed the coast--it was high summer--along a path that -skirted the cliffs. The breeze blew softly off the level _lapis-lazuli_ -of the Channel, sea-gulls wheeled overhead for company, and following -the curve of each ragged headland in succession, the creamy edge of the -breakers lured him on towards the West. He walked thirty miles that day -and slept dreamlessly in a fishing village hung about with nets and -populated by philosophers with patched breeches. - -He struck inland the second day, to plunge into a confusion of lanes -that led him blindfold for a while between ten-foot hedges. These opened -later into red coombes, steeped to their sunny depths with the scent of -fern and may, and all along the road bees held high carnival above the -hedgerows. Then green tunnels of foliage, murmurous with wood-pigeon, -dappled him at each step with alternate sunlight and shadow, and passed -him on to villages whose inns had cool, flagged parlours, and cider in -blue-and-white mugs. An ambient trout-stream held him company most of -the long afternoon, with at times a kingfisher darting along its -tortuous course like a streak from the rainbow that each tiny waterfall -had caught and held. - -He supped early in a farm kitchen off new-made pasties, apple tart and -yellow-crusted cream, and walked on till the bats began wheeling -overhead in the violet dusk. His ship was sixty miles away when he crept -into the shelter of a hayrick and laid his tired head on his knapsack. - -The third day found him up on the ragged moors, steering north. The -exercise and strong salt wind had driven the sad humours from him, and -the affairs of life were beginning to resume their right perspective; so -much so that when, about noon, a sore heel began abruptly to make itself -felt (in the irrational way sore heels have), Selby sat down and pulled -out his map. The day before yesterday he would have pushed on doggedly, -almost welcoming the counter-irritant of physical discomfort. To-day, -however, he accepted the inevitable and searched the map for some -neighbouring village where he could rest a day or so until the chafed -foot was healed. - -After a while he turned east, and, leaving the high moorland, discerned -the smoke of chimneys among some trees in the valley. He descended a -steep road that seemed to lead in the right direction, and presently -caught a glimpse of a square church tower among some elms; later on the -breeze bore the faint cawing of rooks up the hillside. A stream divided -the valley: the few cottages clustered on the opposite side huddled -close together as if reluctant to venture far beyond the shadow of the -grey church. The green of the hillside behind them was gashed in one -place by an old quarry; but the work had long been abandoned, and Nature -had already begun to repair the red scar with impatient furz and -whinberry. - -So much Selby took in as he descended past the grey church and cawing -rooks; once at the bottom and across the quaint, square-arched bridge, -he found there was a small inn amongst the huddled cottages, where they -would receive him for a night or two. - -He lunched, did what he could to the blistered heel with a darning -needle and worsted (after the fashion of blistered sailormen), and took -a light siesta in the lavender-smelling bedroom under the roof until it -was time for tea. Tea over, he lit a pipe, borrowed his host's little 9 -ft. trout rod that hung in the passage, and limped down to the meadows -skirting the stream beyond the village. - -The light occupation gave him something to think about; and, held by the -peace of running water, he lingered by the stream till evening. Then -something of his old sadness came back with the dimpsey light,--a gentle -melancholy that only resembled sorrow "as the mist resembles the rain." -He wanted his supper, too, and so walked slowly back to the village with -the rod on his shoulder. The inn-keeper met him at the door: "Well done, -sir! Well done! Yu'm a fisherman, for sure! Missus, she fry 'un for -supper for 'ee now.... Yes, 'tis nice li'l rod--cut un meself: li'l -hickory rod, 'tis.... Where did 'ee have that half-pounder, sir? -There's many a good fish tu that li'l pool...." - -Selby had finished supper and repaired to a bench outside in the -gloaming with his pipe and a mug of beer. The old stained chancel -windows of the church beyond the river were lit up and choir practice -appeared to be in progress. The drone of the organ and voices uplifted -in familiar harmonies drifted across to him out of the dusk. The pool -below the bridge still mirrored the last gleams of day in the sky: a few -old men were leaning over the low parapet smoking, and down the street -one or two villagers stood gossiping at their doorsteps. A dog came out -of the shadows and sniffed Selby's hands: then he flopped down in the -warm dust and sighed to himself. The strains of the organ on the other -side of the valley swelled louder:-- - - "... Holy Ghost the Infinite, - Comforter Divine..." - -sang the unseen choir. How warm and peaceful the evening was, reflected -Selby, puffing at his pipe, one hand caressing the dog's ear. -Extraordinarily peaceful, in fact.... He wondered what sort of a man the -vicar was, in this tiny backwater of life, and whether he found it -dull.... - -While he wondered, the vicar came down the road and stopped abreast of -him. - -"Good evening," he said, half hesitating, and came nearer. "Please -don't get up.... I don't want to disturb you, but I--they told me this -afternoon that a stranger was staying here. I thought I would make -myself known to you: I am the rector of this little parish." He smiled -and named himself. - -Selby responded to the introduction. "Won't you sit down for a few -minutes? I was listening to your choir----" - -"They are practising--yes: I have just come down from the church and," -he hesitated. "I hoped I should find you in--to have the opportunity of -making your acquaintance." - -"It was most kind of you." Selby wondered if all parsons in this fair -country were as attentive to the stranger within their gates. "Most -kind," he repeated. "I--I was on a walking tour, and"--he indicated a -slipper of his host's that adorned his left foot--"one of my heels began -to chafe--only a blister, you know; but I thought I'd take things easy -for a day or two.... - -"Quite so, quite so. An enforced rest is sometimes very pleasant. I -remember once, my throat.... However, that was not what I came to see -you about. I believe, Mr Selby, er--am I right in supposing that you -are in the Navy?" - -"Yes." A note of chilliness had crept into Selby's voice. After all, -his clerical acquaintance was only an inquisitive old busybody, agog to -pry into other people's affairs. "Yes," he repeated, "I'm a -Lieutenant," and he named his ship. - -The rector made a little deprecatory gesture. "Please don't think I am -trying to acquire the materials for gossip; and I am not asking out of -inquisitiveness. The good people here told me this afternoon--this is -an out-of-the-way place, and strangers, distinguished ones, if I may say -so," he made a little inclination of the head, "do not come here very -frequently: they mentioned it to me as I was passing on my way to hold a -confirmation class...." - -Selby hastened to put him at his ease. After all, why shouldn't he ask? -And then he remembered offering the inn-keeper a fill of hard, Navy plug -tobacco. He carried a bit in his knapsack with a view to just such -small courtesies. "That's the stuff, sir," the man had said, loading -his pipe. "We wondered, me an' the missus, was you a Naval -gentleman...?" - -But while his mind busied itself over these recollections his companion -was talking on in his, gentle way. - -"... He is not a very old man: but the Doctor tells me he has lived a -life of many hardships, and not, I fear, always a temperate one. -However, 'Never a sinner, never a saint,' ... and now he is fast--to use -one of his own seafaring expressions--'slipping his cable.' He retired -from the Navy as a Gunner, I think. That would be a Warrant Officer's -rank, would it not?" - -Selby nodded. "Yes. Has he been retired long, this person you speak -of?" - -"Yes, he retired a good many years ago, and has a small pension quite -sufficient for his needs. He settled here because he liked the -quiet----" The speaker made a little gesture, embracing the hollow in -the hills, sombre now in the gathering darkness. "He lives a very -lonely life in a cottage some little distance along the road. An -eccentric old man, with curious ideas of beautifying a home.... However, -I am digressing. As far as I know he has no relatives alive, and no -friends ever visit him. He has been bed-ridden for some time, and the -wife of one of my parishioners, a most kindly woman, looks in several -times a day, and sees he has all he wants. - -"Now I come to the part of my story that affects you. Lately, in fact -since he took to his bed and the Doctor was compelled to warn him of his -approaching end, he has been very anxious to meet some one in the Navy. -He so often begs me, if I hear of any one connected with the Service -being in the vicinity, to bring him to the cottage. And this afternoon, -hearing quite by accident that a Naval Officer was in our midst,"--again -the rector made his courteous little inclination of the head--"it seemed -an opportunity of gratifying the old fellow's wish--if you could spare a -few moments some time to-morrow...?" - -"I should be only too glad to be of any service," said Selby. "Perhaps -you would call for me some time to-morrow morning, and we could go round -together----?" - -The rector rose. "You are most kind. I was sure when I saw you--I knew -I should not appeal in vain...." He extended his hand. "And now I will -say good-night. Forgive me for taking up so much of your time with an -old man's concerns. One can do so little in this life to bring -happiness to others that when the opportunity arises..." - -"Yes, _rather_----!" said Selby a little awkwardly, and shook hands, -conscious of more than a slight compunction for his hastiness in -judgment of this mild divine. "Good-night, sir," and stood looking -after him till he disappeared along the road into the luminous summer -night. - - -Selby had finished breakfast, and was leaning over the pig-sty wall -watching his host ministering to the fat sow and her squealing litter, -when his acquaintance of the previous night appeared. Seen in the broad -daylight he was an elderly man, short and spare, with placid blue eyes, -and a singularly winning smile. A bachelor, so the inn-keeper had -instructed Selby; a man of learning and of no small wealth, who, -moreover, dressed and threw as pretty a fly as any in the county. - -He saluted Selby with a little gesture of his ash-plant, inquired after -the blistered heel, and then after an ailing member of the fat sow's -litter. "And now, if you are ready and still of the same mind, shall we -be strolling along?" he inquired. - -Selby fetched his stick, and together they set out along a road made -aromatic in the morning sunlight by the scents of dust and flowering -hedgerow. Half a mile beyond the village the rector stopped before a -gate-way. A dogcart and cob stood at the roadside, and a small boy in -charge touched his cap. - -"The Doctor is here, I see," said the clergyman, and opened the gate in -the hedge. Selby caught a glimpse of a flagged path leading through an -orchard to a whitewashed cottage. But his attention from the outset had -been arrested by a most extraordinary assortment of crockery, glass and -earthenware vases, busts, statuettes, and odds and ends of ironwork that -occupied every available inch of space round the gateway, bordering the -path, and were even cemented on to the front of the house itself. Above -the gateway a defaced lion faced an equally mutilated unicorn across the -Royal Arms of England. Arranged beneath, cemented into the pillars of -the arch, were busts of Napoleon, Irving, Stanley, and George -Washington; an earthenware jar bearing the inscription, "HOT POT"; a -little group representing Leda and the Swan in white marble; and a -grinning soapstone joss, such as is sold to tourists and sailors at -ports on the China coast. Interspersed with these were cups without -handles, segments of soup-plates, china dolls'-heads, lead soldiers, and -a miscellaneous collection of tea-pot spouts, ... all firmly plastered -into the ironwork of the pillars. - -On each side of the path, banked up to the height of about three feet, -was a further indescribable conglomeration of bric-à-brac, cemented -together into a sort of hedge. The general effect was as if the -knock-about comedians of a music-hall stage (who break plates and -domestic crockery out of sheer joy of living) had combined with demented -graveyard masons, bulls in china shops, and all the craftsmen of Murano, -to produce a nightmare. A light summer breeze strayed down the valley, -and scores of slips of coloured glass, hanging in groups from the -apple-trees, responded with a musical tinkling. The sound brought -recollections of a Japanese temple garden, and Selby paused to look -about him. - -"What an extraordinary place!" - -The vicar, leading the way up the tiled walk, seemed suddenly to become -aware of the strangeness of their surroundings. Long familiarity with -the house had perhaps robbed the fantastic decorations of their -incongruity. He stopped and smiled. "To be sure.... Yes, I had -forgotten; to a stranger all this must seem very peculiar. I think I -hinted that the old man had very curious ideas of beautifying the home. -This was about his only hobby--and yet, oddly enough, he rarely spoke of -it to me." - -At that moment the cottage door opened and a tall florid man came out. -The vicar turned. "Ah, Doctor Williams--that was his trap at the -gate--let me introduce you...." The introduction accomplished, he -inquired after the patient. The medical man shook his head. - -"Won't last much longer, I'm afraid: a day or so at the most. No -organic disease, y'know, but just"--he made a little gesture--"like a -clock that's run down. Not an old man either, as men go. But these Navy -men age so quickly.... Well, I must get along. I shall look in again -this evening, but there is nothing one can do, really. He's quite -comfortable.... Good-morning," and the Doctor passed down the path to -his trap. - -The vicar opened the cottage door, and stood aside to allow Selby to -enter. The room was partly a kitchen, partly a bedroom; occupying the -bed, with a patchwork quilt drawn up under his chin, was a shrunken -little old man, with a square beard nearly white, and projecting craggy -eyebrows. He turned his head to the door as they entered; in spite of -the commanding brows they were dull, tired old eyes, without interest or -hope, or curiosity in them. - -"I've brought you a visitor, Mr Tyelake," said the vicar. "Some one -you'll be glad to see: an Officer in the Navy." - -The old man considered Selby with the same vacant, passionless gaze. - -"Have you ever ate Navy beef?" he asked abruptly. It was a thin -colourless voice, almost the falsetto of the very old. Selby smiled. -"Oh yes, sometimes." - -"Navy beef--that's what brought me here--an' the rheumatics. I'm -dyin'." He made the statement with the simple pride of one who has at -last achieved a modest distinction. - -The vicar asked a few questions touching the old man's comfort, and -opened the little oriel window to admit the morning air. "Lieutenant -Selby was most interested in your unique collection of curios outside, -Mr Tyelake. Perhaps you would like to tell him something about them." -He looked at his watch, addressing Selby. "I have a meeting, I'm -afraid.... I don't know if you'd care to stay a few minutes longer and -chat?" - -"Certainly," said Selby, and drew a chair near the bed. "If Mr Tyelake -doesn't mind, I'd like to stay a little while...." He sat down, and the -vicar took his departure, closing the door behind him. In a corner by -the dresser a tall grandfather clock ticked out the deliberate seconds; -a bluebottle sailed in through the open window and skirmished round the -low ceiling. - -The old man lay staring at his hands as they lay on the patchwork quilt; -twisted, nubbly hands they were, with something pathetic about their -toilworn helplessness. Every now and again the wind brought into the -little room the tinkle of the glass ornaments pendent in the apple-trees -outside: the faint sound seemed to rouse the occupant of the bed. - -"I've seen a mort of religions," he said in a low voice, as if speaking -to himself. "Heaps of 'em. An' some said one thing an' some said the -other." His old blank eyes followed the gyrations of the fly upon the -ceiling. "An' I dunno.... Buddhas an' Me-'ommets, Salvation Armies, an' -Bush Baptists, ... an' some says one thing an' some says the other. I -dunno..." He shook his head wearily. "But many's the pot of galvanised -paint I used up outside there ... an' goldleaf, in the dog-watches -a-Saturdays." - -This, then, was the explanation of the fantastic decorations outside. -Altars to the unknown God! The old man turned his head towards his -visitor. "But don't you tell the parson. He wouldn't hold with it.... -I tell you because you're in the Navy, an' p'r'aps you'd understand. I -was in the Navy--Mr Tyelake's my name. Thirty year a Gunner; an' Navy -beef----" For a while the old man rambled on, seemingly unconscious of -his visitor's presence, of ships long passed through the breakers' -yards, of forgotten commissions all up and down the world, of beef and -rheumatism and Buddha, while Selby sat listening, half moved by pity, -half amused at himself for staying on. - -About noon a woman came in and fed the old man with a spoon out of a -cup. Selby rose to go. "I'll come again," he said, touching the -passive hands covered with faint blue tattooing. "I'll come and see you -again this evening." The old man roused himself from his reveries. -"Come again," he repeated, "that's right, come again--soon. When she's -gone--she an' her fussin' about," and for the first time an expression -came into his eyes, as he watched the woman with the cup, an expression -of malevolence. "I don't hold with women ... fussin' round. An' I've -got something to tell you: something pressin'. You must come soon; I'm -slippin' my cable.... Navy beef _an'_ the rheumatics--an' it's to your -advantage...." - -The shadows of the alders by the river were lengthening when Selby again -walked up the bricked path leading to the cottage. The old man was -still lying in contemplation of his hands: the grandfather clock had -stopped, and there was a great stillness in the little room. - -His gaze was so vacant and the silence remained unbroken so long that -Selby doubted if the old man recognised him. - -"I've come back, you see. I've come to see you again." Still the -figure in the bed said nothing, staring dully at his visitor. "I've -come to see you again," Selby repeated. - -"It's to your advantage," said the old man. His voice was weaker, and it -was evident that he was, as he said, slipping his cable fast. - -"Give me that there ditty-box," continued the thin, toneless voice. -Selby looked round the room, and espied on a corner of the chest of -drawers the scrubbed wooden "ditty-box" in which sailors keep their more -intimate and personal possessions: he fetched it and placed it on the -patchwork quilt; the old man fumbled ineffectually with the lid. - -"Tip 'em out," he said at length, and Selby inverted the box to allow a -heap of papers and odds and ends to slide on to the old man's hands. It -was a pathetic collection, the flotsam and jetsam of a sailor's life: -faded photographs, certificates from Captains scarcely memories with the -present generation, a frayed parchment, letters tied up with an old -knife-lanyard, a lock of hair from which the curl had not quite departed -... ghost of a day when perhaps the old man did "hold with" women. At -length he found what he wanted, a soiled sheet of paper that had been -folded and refolded many times. - -"Here!" he said, and extended it to Selby. It was a printed form, -discoloured with age, printed in old-fashioned type, and appeared to -relate to details of prison routine and the number of prisoners -victualled. Selby turned it over: on the back, drawn in ink that was -now faded and rusty, was a clumsy arrow showing the points of the -compass; beneath that a number of oblong figures arranged haphazard and -enclosed by a line. One of the figures was marked with a cross. - -"That's a cemetery," said the old man; "cemetery at a place called Port -des Reines." He lay silent for a while, as if trying to arrange his -scattered ideas; presently the weak voice started again. - -"There's a prison at Trinidad, and my father was a warder there ... long -time ago: time the old _Calypso_ was out on the station...." He talked -slowly, with long pauses. "They was sent to catch a murderer who was -hidin' among the islands--a half-breed: pirate he must ha' been ... -murderer an' I don't know what not.... They caught him an' they brought -him to Trinidad where my father was warder in the prison ... when I was -little...." The old man broke off into disconnected, rambling whispers, -and the shadows began gathering in the corners of the room. A thrush in -the orchard outside sang a few long, sweet notes of its Angelus and was -silent. Selby waited with his chin resting in his hand. The old man -suddenly turned his head: "She ain't comin'----? She an' her -fussin'...? I've got something important----" - -"No, no," said Selby soothingly, "there's no one here but me. And you -wanted to tell me about your father----" - -"Warder in the prison at Trinidad," said the old man, "my father was, -an' a kind-hearted man. There was a prisoner there, a pirate an' -murderer he was, what the _Calypso_ caught ... an' father was kind to -him before he was hanged ... I can't say what he did, but bein' -kind-hearted naturally, it might have been anything ... not takin' into -account of him being a pirate an' murderer. Jewels he had, an' rings -an' such things hidden away somewhere; an' before he was hanged he told -my father where they was buried, 'cos father was kind to him before he -was hanged.... Port des Reines cemetery ... in the grave what's marked -on that chart, he'd buried the whole lot. Seventy thousand pounds, he -said...." - -There was a long silence. "Father caught the prison fever an' died just -afterwards. My mother, she gave me the paper ... joined the Navy: an' I -never went to des Reines but the once ... then I went to the wrong -cemetery to dig: ship was under sailin' orders--I hadn't time. -Afterwards I heard there was two cemeteries: priest at Martinique told -me. I was never there but the once.... Seventy thousand pounds: an' me -slippin' me cable...." - -Selby sat by the bed in the darkening room holding the soiled sheet of -paper in his hand, piecing together bit by bit the fragments of this -remarkable narrative, until he had a fairly connected story in his head. - -Summed up, it appeared to amount to this: A pirate or murderer had been -captured by a man-of-war, taken to Trinidad prison to be tried, and -there sentenced to death. "Time the old _Calypso_ was out on the -Station." ... That would be in the 'forties or thereabouts. The old -man's father had been a warder in Trinidad prison at the time, and had -performed some service or kindness to the prisoner, in exchange for -which the condemned felon had given him a clue to the whereabouts of his -plunder. It was apparently buried in a grave in Port des Reines -cemetery, but the warder had died before he could verify this valuable -piece of information. His son, the ex-Gunner, had actually been to a -cemetery at Port des Reines, but had gone to the wrong one, and did not -find out his mistake till after the ship had sailed. The plunder was -valued at £70,000. - -Selby turned the paper over and folded it up. "What do you wish me to -do with this, Mr Tyelake? Have you any relations or next-of-kin? It -seems to me----" - -The old man shook his head faintly. "I've got no relatives alive--nor -friends. They're all dead ... an' I'm dyin'. That's for you, that -there bit of paper. Keep it, it's to your advantage.... Some day, -maybe, you'll go to Port des Reines, an' it's the old cemetery furthest -from the sea. I went to the wrong one time I was there." - -"But," said Selby, half-amused, half-incredulous, "I--I'm a total -stranger to you.... If all this was true----" - -"You keep it," said the old man. His voice was very spent and scarcely -raised above a whisper. "I meant it for the first Navy-man that came -along. You came, an' you were kind to me. It's yours--an' to your -advantage...." - -There was silence again in the little room, and Selby sat on in the -dusk, wondering how much of the story was true, or whether it was all -the hallucination of a failing mind; but the old man had given him the -paper, and he would keep it as a memento, ... and the fact of its being -a prison-form seemed to bear out some of the details; anyhow, the story -was very interesting. He rose and lit the lamp; the old man had slipped -off into an easy doze, with his pathetic collection of treasures still -lying in a heap on the quilt; Selby replaced them in the ditty-box, and -put the box back where he had found it; the piece of paper that had been -a prison-form he put in his pocket-book. As he was leaving, the woman -who had been there earlier in the day made her appearance. - -Selby wished her good evening, told her the old man was dozing, and -passed down the path. "I'll come again to-morrow," he added at the -gate. But that night the old man died, and the next morning, having -ascertained from the vicar that there was nothing he could do to help, -Selby shouldered his knapsack and struck out once more along the road -that led up on to the moor. - - - - *II.* - - -It was tea-time, and the Mess had gathered round the Wardroom table; a -signalman came down from the upper deck and pinned a signal on the -baize-covered notice-board. - -"Hullo," said some one, "signal from the Flagship! What's the news?" - -The Assistant Paymaster, who was sitting with his back to the -notice-board, relinquished the jam-pot, and tilting up his chair, -scrutinised the paper over his shoulder. "Flag-General: Let fires die -out. Usual leave may be granted to Officers." - -The Major of Marines, who had finished his tea, rose from the table and -tucked the novel he had been reading under his arm. "Thanks very much," -he said, "now we're all happy." He stared out through the rain-smeared -scuttle at an angry grey sea and lowering sky. "I can see a faint blur -on the horizon--would that be the delectable beach we're invited to -repair to?" - -"That's it," said the First Lieutenant, stirring the leaves in his -tea-pot with the spoon. He had just spent three-quarters of an hour on -the forecastle, mooring ship in a cold, driving rain. "It's not more -than three miles away, and it's only blowing about half a gale--there's -a cutter to go ashore in; time some of you young bloods were climbing -into your 'civvy'[#] suits." - - -[#] Lowerdeckese = Civilian. - - -"So much for the joys of a big Fleet in the North Sea. I'd like to -bring some of these fellows, who are always writing to the papers about -it, for a little yachting trip," grumbled the Fleet Surgeon, who had -just returned from two successively placid commissions in the West -Indies. "Never anchor in sight of land--always blowing, always raining; -never get ashore, and when you do, you wish you were on board again.... -It's the limit." - -"Well, thank Heaven for a fire and an arm-chair, anyway," said the -Paymaster, and drifted towards the smoking-room, filling his pipe as he -went. - -"Who'll make a four at Bridge?" asked the Major. "Come on, Number One," -and so the Mess dispersed, some to arm-chairs round the fire, others to -the Bridge-table, others again to write letters in their cabins. - -About half an hour before dinner, as was his wont, the Captain came down -from his cabin and joined the group round the smoking-room fire. The -occupants of the arm-chairs made room and smiled greetings. - -"Hullo," said the Captain, "none of you ashore! Thought you all came -into the Navy to see life!" - -The Commander laughed. "We're beginning to forget there is such a thing -as the beach." - -The Captain lit a cigarette. "Not a bad principle either--saves your -plain-clothes from wearing out." He settled down in an arm-chair -somebody had vacated. "Like an old Gunner of a small ship I was in once -in the West Indies; he only went ashore three times during the -commission--once at Trinidad, and once at Bermuda, and each time when he -returned he had to be hoisted on board in a bowline." There was a -general laugh. "What about the third time, sir?" asked the Engineer -Commander. - -"Third time--ah, that was rather mysterious. We never discovered why he -did go ashore that day. I don't know now." The Mess scented a yarn; -thrice-blessed was their Captain in that he could tell a yarn. - -"We were cruising round that fringe of islands, part of the Windward -Group, showing the Flag, and the Skipper decided to look in at a place -called ... h'm'm. Can't remember what it's called--Port des something -... Port des Reines, that's it,--what did you say, Selby?" - -"Nothing, sir, go on..." - -"The last place ever made, this Port des Reines, and it's not finished -yet--just a mountain and the remains of an old French settlement. Well, -we anchored off this God-forsaken hole, and as soon as the Skipper had -had a look at it he decided to up killick and out of it; as far as I can -remember he had to go and lunch with the Consul, but he was to come off -in a couple of hours' time; so we banked fires, and off went the Captain -in the galley. - -"No sooner had he gone than the Gunner--this funny old boy I've been -telling you about--came to my cabin (I was by way of being First -Lieutenant of that ship--we'd no Commander) and asked for leave to go -ashore. - -"I was rather startled: couldn't imagine what on earth he wanted to do. -I told him we were under sailing orders, and only staying a couple of -hours, and that it was an awful hole: had he any friends staying there, -I asked him. No, he said, he had no friends there, but he particularly -wanted to land there for an hour or so on urgent private affairs, as he -called it. - -"Well, he seemed in rather a stew about something, so I gave him leave -and lowered a boat. Off he went in his old bowler hat (he always went -ashore in a bowler hat and a blue suit) armed with something wrapped up -in paper; this turned out afterwards to be a sort of pick or jemmy he -had got the blacksmith to make for him a couple of days before; that -must have been when he heard the ship was going to Port des Reines; it -was the only clue we ever had. - -"Two hours later, at the expiration of his leave, he returned, looking -very dusty and dejected, and reported himself. I chaffed him a bit -about going ashore, but nothing could I get out of him, and he never -volunteered an explanation to any one, as far as I know." - -A Lieutenant who had finished playing Bridge and had joined the group of -listeners round the fire leaned forward suddenly. - -"D'you remember his name, sir?" - -"No," said the Captain, "can't say I do. Never can remember names." - -"Not a Mr Tyelake by any chance, sir?" - -The Captain threw away the end of his cigarette and turned towards the -speaker. "Good Lord! Yes, that was it--Tyelake. But look here, -Selby,----" - -The Lieutenant rose and walked towards the door. "If you'll wait a -second, sir, I'll show you why he went ashore." He left the mess and -returned with a soiled sheet of paper in his hand; it was creased by -much folding and discoloured with age. - -The Captain turned it over and examined it. "But this doesn't explain -much, does it? And how do you come to know old Tyelake? All this -happened twelve--fifteen--nearly twenty years ago, and he was pensioned -soon after. And anyhow, what's this got to do with it?" - -"That," Selby turned the paper over, "that's the cemetery at Port des -Reines, sir,"--and then he told them of a walking tour in the West -Country (omitting the reason for it and other superfluous details) some -two years before, and of the old man who had since solved, it is to be -hoped to his satisfaction, his religious perplexities. - -The Assistant Paymaster removed his glasses and blinked excitedly, as -was his habit when much moved. "But ... why couldn't he find it when he -went ashore? And why didn't----" - -"Because he went to the wrong cemetery; there were two, d'you see, and -he dug up the wrong one and didn't find out there was another one till -after they'd sailed. He never went there again." - -"No," said the Captain. "That's right, we didn't." - -The First Lieutenant laughed. "But just imagine him in that climate, -tearing off the tombstones in his bowler hat and serge suit, with one -eye on his watch all the time, and only finding coffins...!" - -"And then hearing when it was too late that he'd backed the wrong -horse," added the Major of Marines. - -"But...." began the A.P. again, "_How_ much did you say? Seventy -thousand pounds! My Aunt! Selby, have _you_ been there yet?" - -Selby smiled and shook his head. "I? No, I've been 'Channel-groping' -ever since; in fact, I'd forgotten all about it until the Captain -mentioned Port des Reines. He was a very old man, and his wits were -failing----" - -The Engineer Commander examined the plan. "But there may be something -in the yarn, Selby. It seems almost worth while----" - -"A treasure hunt!" broke in the A.P. "Let's all put in for a couple of -months' half-pay, and go out there! Hire a schooner, like they do in -books." - -"Schooner!" ejaculated the Major. "I can see myself setting sail for -the Antilles in a schooner! Ugh! It makes me feel queer to think of -it!" - -"You'd look fine in a red smuggler's cap and thigh-boots, Major," said -the First Lieutenant. "That's what treasure-hunters always wear." - -"With a black patch over one eye, and the skull and cross-bones -embroidered on your brisket," supplemented an imaginative Watch-keeper. -"'Yo! ho! and a bottle of rum!'--can't you see yourself, Major? Only -you ought to have a wooden leg." - -"Has anybody in the Mess ever been there?" inquired the Commander. - -"Why, the P.M.O.'s just come home from the West Indies; where is he?" - -At that moment the Fleet Surgeon entered, to be assailed by a volley of -questions. - -"P.M.O.! You're just the man! Where's Porte des Reines?" - -"We're all going treasure-hunting in a schooner with the Major!" - -"With the Jolly Roger at the fore!" - -"P.M.O., have you ever been to Porte des Reines?" - -"How many cemeteries are there there?" - -"What's the law about digging up graves in the West Indies?" - -"----And treasure trove?" - -The Fleet Surgeon looked a little bewildered. "What are you all talking -about? Porte des Reines? Yes, I've been there. I don't know about the -cemeteries, but I've got some photographs of the place, if you're all so -anxious to see it--they're in my cabin." - -He left the Mess, and the storm of conjecture and speculation broke out -afresh. - -"I shall chuck the Service and buy a farm," said the First Lieutenant, -"with my share." - -"S-sh! Don't make such a row! One of the Servants will hear, and we -don't want it to get all over the ship! These things are much better -kept quiet. If there's anything in it, the fewer----" - -The A.P.'s voice rose above the turmoil: "An' I shall buy a cycle-car -... and a split-cane, steel-centred grilse-rod ... _and_ go to -Switzerland next winter--I----" - -The Fleet Surgeon reappeared with a bulky album under his arm; he laid -it on the card-table and turned the pages. "Now--there's Port des -Reines: what's left of it after the earthquake." - -"Earthquake!" The Mess gathered round and leaned breathlessly over the -table. - -"Yes; two years ago they had that awful earthquake, and the mountain -shifted almost bodily; there's a million tons of rock on top of--well, -you can see!" - -They scanned the scene of desolation in silence. "It swallowed the -whole town," said some one in awestruck tones. The magnitude of a -calamity had somehow never come home to them before quite so forcibly. - -"Yes," replied the Fleet Surgeon calmly. "Town, such as it was, and -church and cemeteries, mountain toppled down on top of them!" - -There was a long, tense silence. "But----" began the A.P., still -clinging to his dreams of a split-cane grilse-rod with a steel centre. - -"_Dry_ up!" snapped the First Lieutenant irritably. - -"Oh Death, where is thy sting!" murmured the Major of Marines. "Seventy -thousand pounds buried under a mountain!" - -The Captain rang the bell and ordered a sherry and bitters. "Well," he -said, "thank Heaven I know at last why the Gunner went ashore!" - - - - - THE END. - - - - - PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. - - - - - * * * * * * * * - - - - - *BLACKWOODS' POPULAR SHILLING NOVELS.* - - *Bound in Cloth. With Coloured Illustration on Wrapper.* - - -A SAFETY MATCH. IAN HAY -A MAN'S MAN. IAN HAY -"PIP": A ROMANCE OF YOUTH. IAN HAY -THE RIGHT STUFF. IAN HAY -HAPPY-GO-LUCKY. IAN HAY -THE MOON OF BATH. BETH ELLIS -FANCY FARM. NEIL MUNRO -THE DAFT DAYS. NEIL MUNRO -CAPTAIN DESMOND, V.C. (_Revised Edition._) MAUD DIVER -THE GREAT AMULET. MAUD DIVER -CANDLES IN THE WIND. MAUD DIVER -THE GREEN CURVE. OLE LUK-OIE -PARA HANDY. HUGH FOULIS -THE VITAL SPARK. (_Illustrated. Paper Cover._) HUGH FOULIS -THE RED NEIGHBOUR. W. J. ECCOTT -THE WATCHER BY THE THRESHOLD. JOHN BUCHAN -THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS. JOHN BUCHAN -NAVAL OCCASIONS. "BARTIMEUS" -JOHN CHILCOTE, M.P. MRS THURSTON -LORD JIM. JOSEPH CONRAD -"No. 101." WYMOND CAREY -THE POWER OF THE KEYS. SYDNEY C. GRIER -THE ADVANCED-GUARD. SYDNEY C. GRIER -THE PATH TO HONOUR. SYDNEY C. GRIER -THE LUNATIC AT LARGE. J. STORER CLOUSTON -SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT. BEATRICE HARRADEN -THE ALIAS. ALEXANDER CRAWFORD -SARACINESCA. F. MARION CRAWFORD -PRIVATE SPUD TAMSON. CAPT. R. W. CAMPBELL -HOCKEN AND HUNKEN. "Q" (Sir A. T. QUILLER-COUCH) - - - WM. BLACKWOOD & SONS, EDINBURGH AND LONDON. - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NAVAL OCCASIONS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/46730 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so -the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and -trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be -used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific -permission. 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