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The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Blue Peter, by Morley Roberts
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<body>
<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68796 ***</div>
<h1>
<br /><br />
THE BLUE PETER<br />
</h1>
<p class="t2">
SEA COMEDIES<br />
</p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<p class="t3">
BY<br />
</p>
<p class="t2">
MORLEY ROBERTS<br />
</p>
<p class="t4">
AUTHOR OF "THE PROMOTION OF THE ADMIRAL"<br />
"CAPTAIN BALAAM OF THE 'CORMORANT'" ETC.<br />
</p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<p class="t3">
LONDON<br />
EVELEIGH NASH<br />
1906<br />
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p class="t3">
INSCRIBED AFFECTIONATELY<br />
TO<br />
MY FATHER<br />
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p class="t3b">
CONTENTS
</p>
<p><br /></p>
<p>
I. <a href="#chap01">THE EXTRA HANDS OF THE <i>NEMESIS</i></a>
</p>
<p>
II. <a href="#chap02">THE STRANGE SITUATION OF CAPTAIN BROGGER</a>
</p>
<p>
III. <a href="#chap03">THE OVERCROWDED ICEBERG</a>
</p>
<p>
IV. <a href="#chap04">THE REMARKABLE CONVERSION OF THE REV. T. RUDDLE</a>
</p>
<p>
V. <a href="#chap05">THE CAPTAIN OF THE <i>ULLSWATER</i></a>
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p><a id="chap01"></a></p>
<h3>
THE EXTRA HANDS OF THE <i>NEMESIS</i>
</h3>
<p>
The steamship <i>Nemesis</i>, of two thousand five
hundred and fifty tons register, and belonging
to the port of London, had nearly finished her
loading one foggy afternoon in a foggy November.
She was at Tilbury, taking in a general cargo
for Capetown and Australian ports, and as the
last few cases were coming on board the skipper
came on board too by way of the big gangway,
close by which the second mate was standing.
</p>
<p>
"Is that the last of it?" asked the 'old man'
gloomily.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, sir," said Mr. Cade with equal gloominess.
When a man is second mate at the age
of fifty it is not surprising that he should be sulky.
</p>
<p>
"And it is time it was, for we're well down to
our mark, and no mistake about it, sir."
</p>
<p>
Captain Jordan said nothing, but walked
for'ard to his cabin and sat down wearily. He
threw a bundle of papers on his table, and filling
his pipe smoked for a few minutes. He was a
fine handsome white-headed man of some fifty-two
years, and had once been ambitious. Now
he worked for Messrs. Gruddle, Shody, & Co.,
and, as all seamen knew, to work for them was
to have lost all chances that following the sea
affords even in these days.
</p>
<p>
"The swine," said old Jordan to himself, "oh,
the swine that they are! I wish I could get
even with them. If I could do that I could die
happy. They are charitable, are they? Curse
their charity! Ah, if I hadn't been so unlucky
in my last employ."
</p>
<p>
But that was it. He had been in the employ
of a good firm with one bitterly unjust regulation.
Any skipper of theirs who lost a ship, even
through no fault of his own, had to go, and,
though he had worked for them for twenty
years, that was his fate when he piled up the
<i>Grimshaw Hall</i> on the Manacles.
</p>
<p>
"And that's how they got me cheap," said
Jordan. "And because poor Cade lost his master's
certificate through an error of judgment they
have him cheap, and they have my old chum
Thripp cheap in the same way. Oh, they are
a precious lot of swine, and I wish I had 'em
here with me when we are out at sea. I'd tell
'em what I think of 'em, if I got the sack right
off and had to ship before the mast."
</p>
<p>
Thripp the mate came by the cabin, and the
skipper called to him.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, sir," said Thripp.
</p>
<p>
"Come in a moment," said Jordan. "I've
something to tell you, something that will cheer
you up and make you like the firm better than
ever."
</p>
<p>
Thripp was also as grey as a badger, but not
through age. He, too, had been a master mariner,
and had lost his first and only command by
running her against an iceberg in a fog. He
had had orders to make a passage at all costs,
but those orders were verbal, and his owners
showed in court printed instructions that bade
all their employees use extra caution in time
of fog, even if a slow passage were the result.
Therefore Messrs. Gruddle, Shody, & Co. got
him cheap too.
</p>
<p>
"What's their charity now?" asked Thripp
scornfully.
</p>
<p>
"It begins at home as usual," replied the
skipper. "They have cut you and me down
thirty bob a month and Cade a quid."
</p>
<p>
Thripp sighed, and then swore.
</p>
<p>
"Well, we have both had our certificates
suspended," said Jordan bitterly, "so what can
we expect? Men like us are every owner's
dogs, and they know it. I'm half a mind to quit."
</p>
<p>
"I've got a wife," said Thripp, "and I can't
put the poor old girl in the workhouse."
</p>
<p>
Jordan had never been married, and was glad
of it now.
</p>
<p>
"I once had a chance to marry a lady with
ships of her own," he said thoughtfully, "and
I was fool enough to prefer to run alone. But
it is wonderful how fond that woman was of me,
Thripp. She proposed to me three times."
</p>
<p>
"You don't say so," said Thripp.
</p>
<p>
"Fact, I assure you," replied Jordan. "She
was as ugly as a freak, and fat enough to make
a livin' in a show, so I couldn't do it, you
see.
</p>
<p>
"I see," sighed Thripp, "but it was a pity."
</p>
<p>
"An awful pity," said the skipper. "And
even now she ain't forgot me, though it is ten
years ago and more since we first met. Every
Christmas she sends me a puddin' and a bottle
of rum that would make your hair curl, ninety
over proof at least, and with the aroma of a
West Injies sugar plantation. I wonder if she
has any sort of a notion how I've come down in
life so as to be at the mercy of a Jew like Gruddle."
</p>
<p>
Cade came along and reported that the very
last of the cargo was in and that the hatches
were on. Jordan called him in and gave him a tot
of whisky, and broke the news to him that his
wages had had another cut. But the second
mate said nothing at all. He shook his head
and went out.
</p>
<p>
"His spirit is broke," said Jordan gloomily.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, no," said Thripp, "it's only that he
hasn't the words, poor chap. Well, it ain't
any wonder. I haven't any myself. But if I ran
across Gruddle my opinion is that I should find
'em in spite of my bein' a married man."
</p>
<p>
"Last week they was talkin' of comin' along
with us as far as Gib," said Jordan. "They are
mighty proud of this steamer that I know they
got by fraud and diddlin' out of Johns and
Mackie. Oh, they are very proud of her, and they
see money in her."
</p>
<p>
"If they had come," said Thripp savagely,
"I should have said something or bust."
</p>
<p>
"Better to bust, I suppose," replied the
skipper, "though I own that if I knew they was
comin' with us I should be tempted to say a
lot that's now inside me boilin'. I wish they was,
I own it. I own it freely, even if I got the sack."
</p>
<p>
He relapsed on the ship's papers, and Thripp
went out to attend to the duties of a conscientious
mate on the eve of going to sea. He passed a
telegraph boy on the main-deck and directed
the lad to the captain's cabin. Destiny in a
uniform thanked him and whistled. When he
had found the skipper and old Jordan had read
the message he was the one who whistled. But
he did not do so from want of thought by any
means. He looked as savage as a trapped
weasel, and as black as a nigger on a dark night.
</p>
<p>
"Well, I'm damned," said Jordan, "so they
are goin' to do it after all! And I don't know
that I wish it now!"
</p>
<p>
He whistled again and rang the bell for the
steward, who was another of the firm's cheap
bargains. He had been in prison, in company
with a former captain of his, for disposing of
stores in foreign parts and feeding the crew on
something that the illicit purchaser threw into
the bargain. He was now trying to regain his
lost reputation at the wages of an ordinary
seaman.
</p>
<p>
"Steward," said the skipper, "I want you
to read this telegram and arrange for it as best
you can. They will be with us for six days or
thereabouts."
</p>
<p>
For the wire was from Mr. Gruddle, and it
stated that the four partners were going with
them as far as Gibraltar.
</p>
<p>
"Shall we 'ave to get in anythin' special for
them in the way of provisions, sir?" asked
the steward.
</p>
<p>
The 'old man' scratched his head and said
that he thought so.
</p>
<p>
"As you know, Smith, what we have to eat
is horrid bad," he said thoughtfully.
</p>
<p>
"It is, sir," replied Smith. "It ain't fit for
pigs."
</p>
<p>
Jordan stood thinking for a minute. Then
he turned to Smith.
</p>
<p>
"On the whole, Smith, I think I'd get nothing.
I'd like 'em to see the kind of stuff they buy
for us. Perhaps it will do them good. It
don't do us any. Get nothin', Smith."
</p>
<p>
"Very well, sir," said the steward with a
grin. He turned to go, and Jordan stopped
him.
</p>
<p>
"I suppose, Smith, that some of the grub is
worse than the rest?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
"Lord bless you, sir, the men's grub is fair
poison."
</p>
<p>
"Is it now?" said the skipper. "Do you
know, Smith, I think we'll eat what the men
do for the passage as far as Gibraltar. I'll speak
to Mr. Thripp and Mr. Cade, and I daresay
they won't mind just for a little while."
</p>
<p>
"I could put you and them somethin' better
in your cabin, sir, if the other made you very
sick," suggested Smith.
</p>
<p>
"So you could. To be sure you could," said
Jordan. "That's a very good idea of yours,
Smith. But fix up their berths. They will be
aboard to-morrow mornin'."
</p>
<p>
He broke the news to the mates that the
whole firm was coming on a little trip with
them, and when he asked them if they had
any objection to the fare that Smith proposed
to give them for those few days they said they
would be glad to see it on the table. They
thought almost happily of the face that Gruddle
would put on when he saw the measly and
forbidden pork. They had visions of Shody,
who was a wholesale grocer as well as a
ship-owner, when he sampled the stores that he
supplied the firm with. They smiled to think
of Sloggett and Butterworth, the junior partners,
who promised to be quite as bad as their elders
by and by, and were known to be fond of high
feeding. The only mistake they fell into about
the whole body of the firm was that they took
them for fools who did not know what sort of
food they gave their officers and crews. For
next morning at nine o'clock a number of
fascinating-looking cases were brought on board, on
which was the name of a well-known provision
merchant. And with the cases which obviously
contained provisions there were some which
quite as obviously held champagne. The 'old
man' and the two mates looked at this
consignment and their jaws dropped.
</p>
<p>
"Our scheme ain't worth a cent," said Jordan
sadly.
</p>
<p>
"It might be worse, though," said Thripp;
"we'll get some of this lot, of course."
</p>
<p>
"Do you think so?" asked Jordan sadly.
</p>
<p>
"Of course I do," said Thripp indignantly.
"Whatever kind of swabs they are, they ain't
surely so measly as to grub on this in our very
presence and see us eat the other muck?"
</p>
<p>
The skipper smiled a slow and bitter smile.
</p>
<p>
"Thripp, you are a good seaman, but as a
judge of humanity you ain't in it with Cade.
All you and me will get of this lot will be the
smell of it."
</p>
<p>
An hour later the owners came on board,
and were received with the humility due to
such great men, who owned ships and shops and
had houses in Croyden, and reputations which
smelt in heaven like a tallow refining factory.
The very deck hands who brought their luggage
on board cursed them under their breath, and
would have been glad to do it openly. Then
as the tide served the <i>Nemesis</i> cast off from the
wharf and made her way out into the stream,
and started on her most memorable trip. If
all the folks connected with the sea who knew
the character of the men who owned her had
also known that they were on board, and what
was going to happen before they got back to
England again, she and they would have got
a more lively send-off than she did get.
</p>
<p>
The partners were in a very happy frame
of mind, and showed it. They had got hold
of the <i>Nemesis</i> cheap and were going to make
money out of her. They had their officers and
crew on the cheap as well, and it warmed their
hearts to think of the price that they had
provisioned her at in these hard times. Everything
on board the <i>Nemesis</i> was cheap except the
grub they had sent on board for their own use,
and even that had been paid for by a creditor
as a means of getting the firm to renew a bill.
It was quite certain the firm knew their way
about the dark alleys of this world. Gruddle
had a cent.-per-cent. grin on his oily face, and
fat Shody smiled like a hyena out on a holiday,
and the two more gentlemanly-looking members
of the firm laughed jovially.
</p>
<p>
"It's a great idea this," said Sloggett. "We're
going to 'ave an ideal 'oliday and pay nothin'
for it, and when we get to Gibraltar we will
put the screw on Garcia & Co. and show them
that we are not to be played with. Oh, this
was a good idea of yours, Butterworth, and I
congratulate you on it."
</p>
<p>
They were shown their berths by the scared
and obsequious steward, and they changed
their frock-coats and high hats, without which
they could not move a step, and put on more
suitable garments. Gruddle, for instance, put
on patent leather shoes and spats, which with
black trousers and a loud check coat looked
exceedingly striking. He wore a Royal Yacht
Squadron cap, which he had as much right to
as a Field Marshal's uniform. It suited his
style of Oriental beauty as much as that would
have done, and he went on deck as pleased as
Punch. He felt every inch a sailor. The others
followed him, and were almost as remarkable
to look at in their own way. Shody, who was
a very fat man, was in knickerbockers and
shooting-boots, and wore a fur-lined overcoat;
while Sloggett was adorned, in a new yachtsman's
rig-out which made him look like a pallid
shop-walker. Butterworth was the only one who
stuck to ordinary clothes, and, as a consequence,
he looked like a gentleman beside the others.
It was an illusion, of course, for he wasn't a
gentleman by any means. On the contrary,
he was a member of the firm, and a rising man
in that branch of the shipping world which
makes its money out of sinking ships.
</p>
<p>
"'Ow long will it be before we are in fine
weather?" he asked, as he stared at the docks
and warehouses. But no one knew, and just
then there was no one to ask, for all the officers
had their hands full. The river was thick
with traffic, and there was enough mist on the
water to make navigation a little risky.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, give me sunlight," said Gruddle. "When
the sun shines I'm almost as happy as when
I turn a loss into a profit by attention to
details."
</p>
<p>
His partners laughed.
</p>
<p>
"There is nothing like an 'oliday on the cheap,
with a free mind," said Shody. "I likes an
'oliday, I own, but when it costs me money I
ain't as 'appy as when it costs someone else
money."
</p>
<p>
"There is one thing about this vessel that
fills me with a just pride," said Gruddle, "and
that is that her wages bill per month is prob'ly
thirty-three and a third per cent. under that
of any vessel of hequal tonnage sailin' out of
London this day. And it's done without meanness
too, all on account of my notion of givin'
work to the unfortunate at a trifle under current
rates. This is the only firm in London that
can be charitable, and 'ave the name for it, and
make money out of it."
</p>
<p>
They said that was so, and they discussed
the officers.
</p>
<p>
"All good men, if a trifle unfortunate," said
Shody. "A year ago who would 'ave believed
that we could 'ave got a man like Jordan for
what we pay 'im? The very hidea would 'ave
been laughed at. But he 'as an accident that
wasn't 'is fault, and down comes 'is price, and
we nip in and get a real good man cheap as dirt,
and keep 'im off of the streets so to speak. Oh,
Gruddle, it was a great idea of yours; and to
give that poor unfort'nit steward a job when 'e
came out of chokey was real noble of you."
</p>
<p>
"So it was," said Gruddle, "but I was always
soft-'earted if I didn't lose money by it."
</p>
<p>
"So you were," said Shody warmly. "Do
you remember 'ow you gave poor Jenkins time
to borrow money of his relatives w'en by all
rights you ought to 'ave given 'im into charge,
and 'e would 'ave got ten years as safe as a bill
of Rothschild's?"
</p>
<p>
In such reminiscences of the firm's noble
efforts on the part of suffering and erring humanity
they passed an agreeable hour, and then went
below and cracked a bottle of champagne. Soon
afterwards it was time for lunch, and Butterworth
saw to the arrangements of their special
table, and got things out to be cooked. The
skipper came down for a moment while they
were eating, and Gruddle called him over to
their table.
</p>
<p>
"Will you 'ave a glass of champagne, captain?"
he asked.
</p>
<p>
"With pleasure, sir," said the white-headed
old skipper, who looked like a thoroughbred
beside any one of them.
</p>
<p>
"Ah, I thought you would," said Gruddle
warmly. "I reckon you 'ave not tasted it since
you wrecked the <i>Grimshaw 'All</i> on the Manacles,
captain. And don't you forget that if you
wrecks the <i>Nemesis</i> you won't taste much but
skilly and water for the rest of your life. Pour
'im out a glass, Sloggett, if you can spare it."
</p>
<p>
Jordan drank the wine, and it nearly choked
him. When he got out of their sight he spat
on the deck, and went upon the bridge alongside
the pilot shivering. His hands were clenched
and he was almost sick with rage.
</p>
<p>
The mud-pilot saw that there was something
wrong.
</p>
<p>
"Are you ill, captain?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
"I've 'ad a blow," said the old skipper, "I've
'ad a blow."
</p>
<p>
The pilot thought he had had bad news, and
was sorry for him.
</p>
<p>
"No, not bad news," said poor old Jordan.
"It ain't no news to me. Somebody said somethin'
that puts things in a new light to me."
</p>
<p>
He chewed the cud of unutterable bitterness
and wished he was dead. He did not go below
again till they were well in the Channel, and he
ate no supper. He could not get it down. He
sent for Thripp to his cabin, and burst out on
the mate with the intolerable insults that he
had had to put up with.
</p>
<p>
"We're their dogs," said Thripp bitterly; "but
if I am married I'll not put up with much, sir.
They're half drunk by now, and are playin' cards
and drinkin' more, and Dixon is cryin' in his
pantry because one of 'em started bullyin'
him about something, and said that he was a
hard bargain at any price."
</p>
<p>
"I wish I could get even, oh, I do wish it,"
said old Jordan. "Did you ever hear of such
mean dogs in all your life?"
</p>
<p>
"Only in books, sir," said the mate thoughtfully.
"I recollect in some book readin' about
a man like Gruddle, but I forget what book it
was. But I do remember that someone knocked
the man down that was as bad as Gruddle. I
enjoyed that book amazin'ly, sir."
</p>
<p>
"I wish you knew the name of it," said the
skipper. "But if I 'ad as much money laid
by as would bring me in fifteen shillin's a week
I'd show you something better than anythin'
you ever read in a book, Thripp. You mark
my words, I would."
</p>
<p>
"What would you show me, sir?" asked the
mate eagerly.
</p>
<p>
But old Jordan sighed.
</p>
<p>
"What's the good of thinking of pure enjoyment
when one ain't in the least likely to get
the chance of havin' it? We must put up
with 'em, Thripp. After all it's only to Gibraltar,
and after that we are by ourselves. I hope I
shan't explode before then."
</p>
<p>
And Thripp went away to talk to the engineer,
and to try to remember the name of the book
in which someone got his deserts. While he
was doing that the partners played cards and
drank more than was good for them, and
thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They told
Thripp, when he came below, that the whole ship
was disgracefully dirty, and that if he wanted
to keep his job he had better see to it at once.
As they screwed him down on paint and all
stores necessary to prevent a vessel looking
as bad as a house in Chancery, this naturally
did not cheer him up. Dixon was really in
tears because Gruddle swore at him in the
most horrid way without any reason, except
that he had sworn at Shody and had got the
worst of it. Cade accidentally ran into
Butterworth, who was sneaking round to see if he
could find anything to complain about, and
Butterworth promptly said he was a clumsy
hound. According to Jordan, Cade's spirit was
broken, but this was more than he could stand
even from one of the owners. He told Butterworth
to go where it was a deal hotter than
the Red Sea in July. He did not use any
circumlocution about it either, and Butterworth
was in a fury. He complained to the skipper,
and Jordan had the greatest difficulty in refraining
from endorsing Cade's hasty recommendation
of a suitable climate for the junior partner.
But he did refrain.
</p>
<p>
"I am very sorry that he should have so
far forgotten himself," said Jordan. "I will
speak to him at once."
</p>
<p>
"The insolent fool must apologise," said
Butterworth; and Jordan said that Mr. Cade
would undoubtedly see that that was his duty.
He called for Cade, and Cade's spirit seemed
to have quite bucked up. He flatly declined
to apologise unless Mr. Butterworth first did
so for 'calling him out of his name.'
</p>
<p>
"He said I was a clumsy hound," said Cade.
</p>
<p>
"So you are," said Butterworth, "and I say
it again."
</p>
<p>
"Do you hear that, Captain Jordan?" asked
Cade. "Is an officer in this vessel or in any
other to be spoke to like that before the men?
Before I'll apologise I'll see that sailor-robber
in hell, sir."
</p>
<p>
The poor skipper danced in his anxiety to
preserve the peace.
</p>
<p>
"Mr. Cade, you mustn't. I order you to
hold your tongue, sir. Go to your cabin, sir,
and after some reflection I am sure you will
offer an apology to Mr. Butterworth."
</p>
<p>
"I'll see him damned first," said Cade as he
marched off.
</p>
<p>
"I sack you! I discharge you!" roared Butterworth,
who was in a blind fury.
</p>
<p>
"Discharge your grandmother," said Cade
discourteously. "You can't do it. I'm on the
ship's papers. And who are you, anyhow?"
</p>
<p>
The owners held a consultation in the cabin
when Butterworth came below with his story of
the second mate's insolence and insubordination.
</p>
<p>
"Let us be clear as to 'ow it occurred," said
Gruddle. "Now, Butterworth, tell us what
it was."
</p>
<p>
"He ran against me, and I remonstrated,
and he told me to go to hell," said the fuming
Butterworth.
</p>
<p>
"That ith very bad, very 'ighly improper,"
said Gruddle. "But 'ow did you remonstrate?
Did you 'it 'im?"
</p>
<p>
"Certainly not," said the junior partner
warmly, "all I said was that he was clumsy."
</p>
<p>
Shody and Sloggett said that Cade must be
sacked at once, or at least as soon as they got
to Gibraltar. Gruddle, who knew a deal more
than they did about most things in the way of
the law and business, shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"It will sound very queer to you," said Gruddle,
"but the truth of the matter ith that I don't
think we can thack 'im. The man 'ath a contract
for the voyage, and the only one that can
thack 'im ith the captain."
</p>
<p>
The rest said this was absurd. Were they not
the owners, and could they not do as they pleased
with every man-jack on board? And even if
Gruddle was right, they could tell the captain to
dump Cade over the side at Gibraltar.
</p>
<p>
"Well, of course we can do that," said Gruddle.
</p>
<p>
"And we will," said the outraged Butterworth.
"I think we had better 'ave Jordan in now and
tell 'im what to do."
</p>
<p>
They sent for the skipper, and the poor old
chap came down and stood up before them.
With his big white beard and his ruddy handsome
face he looked like a captive Viking before
a tribunal of tradesmen.
</p>
<p>
"This 'ere conduct of the second mate is
what we've called you down about," said Gruddle.
"'E was very rude to Mr. Butterworth; told 'im,
in fact, to go to 'ell, w'ich can't be put up with."
</p>
<p>
"And ain't goin' to be," said the offended
partner. "We 'ave sacked 'im, and 'e must be
sent ashore at Gibraltar and another one found."
</p>
<p>
Jordan had the very strongest inclination
to tell Butterworth exactly what Cade had told
him. But he restrained himself, and suggested
to them that it would probably take some time
to pick up a new second mate at Gib,
whereas they had arranged not to enter but
to signal for a boat for them to go ashore in.
It was Shody who saw the way out and brought
them all to grief.
</p>
<p>
"Cade can come ashore with us," he said
with a fat and happy smile, "and you needn't
wait to get another man in 'is place, captain.
I always understood that the second mate was
on'y a kind of deputy for the skipper, and I
see no reason w'y 'e couldn't be done without
altogether."
</p>
<p>
"That's a very good idea of yours, Shody,"
said Sloggett and Butterworth in the same breath,
"and I daresay the captain will see that it is."
</p>
<p>
But Jordan was breathless with indignation.
Shody spoke for him.
</p>
<p>
"I always did think," said Shody, "that the
captain of any vessel 'ad much too easy a time
of it. I don't see no reason why 'e shouldn't
stand his watch same as the mate. The captain's
job is an easy one and a well paid one. I should
say it was an overpaid one. 'Avin' a second
mate is like 'avin' a fifth wheel to a coach, and
the job should be abolished. This is a good
chance of inauguratin' an entirely new system,
and a reform that will save money."
</p>
<p>
The only one of them who thought this was
going too far was Gruddle, and he did not care
to look Jordan in the face. When he did look
at the captain it was because he had to, and
because Jordan demanded it. The old man's
face was livid with rage, and he struck the table
a resounding blow that made the glasses dance.
The partners shrank back from him as if he was
a wild elephant, and Gruddle went as white
as the skipper's beard.
</p>
<p>
"You infernal hogs," said the skipper, "you
infernal hogs, I'm sorry I ever saw one of you!
You are a disgrace to the name of Englishmen,
and—and I despise you!"
</p>
<p>
He looked as if he did; there was no mistake
about that, and he also looked as if he was about
to assault the whole gang of them. The two
junior partners jumped to their feet not so
much to be prepared to defend themselves as
to run away. Jordan might be somewhat past
his best, but he was still as strong as a bull and
as big as any two of them in spite of Shody's
fat. He was distinctly dangerous.
</p>
<p>
"'Ow, 'ow dare you on our ship?" asked
Shody with a poor attempt at dignity.
"Partners, our kindness 'as been throwed away,
bestowed on an hunworthy hobject."
</p>
<p>
"Shut up, or I'll make you," roared the old
skipper. "I won't be spoke to by a lot of hogs
such as you, with your talk of charity and your
beastly manners. You can sack me if you like,
but you don't sack the second mate while I am
captain of this vessel, so I tell you."
</p>
<p>
"We—we discharge you," said Butterworth
furiously. "We discharge him, don't we?"
</p>
<p>
They said that they did, and for a second the
skipper was about to take his dismissal lying
down. But the next moment he refused to do
anything of the sort. He saw the strength of
his position where they naturally only saw his
weakness. He laughed a little angrily, but still
he laughed, and the sound outraged the firm.
</p>
<p>
"You will laugh on the wrong side of your
face when you are on the street," said Shody.
And just then Jordan heard Cade enter his
cabin. He laughed again, this time much more
naturally, and called to the second mate. He
came in looking as black as a thundercloud.
</p>
<p>
"Mr. Cade," said the skipper in almost his
usual mild tone of voice.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, sir," replied Cade.
</p>
<p>
"Would you be so good, Mr. Cade, as to tell
me who I am?"
</p>
<p>
Cade stared, and so did the partners.
</p>
<p>
"Who you are, sir?" stammered the second
greaser in great amazement.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, who I am?" repeated the skipper.
</p>
<p>
"Why, you are Captain Jordan, sir," said
Cade, still out of soundings.
</p>
<p>
"Of what ship, Mr. Cade?"
</p>
<p>
"Of this one, sir," replied Cade, who hoped
that the skipper hadn't gone mad.
</p>
<p>
"Exactly so, Mr. Cade," said the 'old man,'
who had by this time made up his mind to a
very definite course of action. "You hear that,
gentlemen?"
</p>
<p>
They did hear it, but were not much wiser.
They looked at each other in some amazement.
</p>
<p>
"What do you mean, you old fool?" asked
Sloggett. But Jordan did not answer him.
He spoke again to Cade.
</p>
<p>
"And if I am the skipper of this boat," he
went on, "who are these gentlemen who are
givin' me directions to put you ashore at Gib?"
</p>
<p>
Cade eyed them malevolently, and for the first
time a glimpse of the captain's meaning came
to him. His face lightened, and he smiled grimly.
</p>
<p>
"Why, they are only passengers," he said.
</p>
<p>
"Right the very first time," said Jordan with
a pleasant smile; "that is what they are here,
and no mistake about it. And as passengers,
Mr. Cade, what authority have they?"
</p>
<p>
"Not so much as the cook," said Cade.
</p>
<p>
The skipper, who had quite recovered his
temper, turned to the partners.
</p>
<p>
"You hear that, gentlemen?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
They did hear it, and it sounded very absurd
to all of them but old Gruddle, who did know
something of the ways of the sea and the laws
of it.
</p>
<p>
"You are an old fool," said Butterworth,
"and when we get to Gibraltar you will find it
out too, quick."
</p>
<p>
The skipper grinned quite amiably. As he
had now made up his mind, he reverted to the
superiority of tone which had distinguished
him when he was captain of the <i>Grimshaw
Hall</i>.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, I shall find it out—when I get to
Gibraltar," said Jordan, with ample and deadly
courtesy, and saying that he went out of the
saloon and called Cade to follow him. When
they came out on deck he put his hand on the
second mate's shoulder.
</p>
<p>
"I ain't goin' to Gibraltar at all, Mr. Cade,"
he said with a nod, and Cade gasped.
</p>
<p>
"Ain't you, sir?" he asked after a long pause
of astonishment.
</p>
<p>
"Not much, I'm not," said Jordan. "I've
put up with a deal, but I'll show 'em now who's
the boss here. I got orders for Capetown and
Sydney, and if they choose to come on board
as passengers and tell me to go elsewhere I don't
choose to do it, and that is all there is to it.
Damn their eyes!"
</p>
<p>
"Amen, sir," said Cade. "To think that
Butterworth called me a clumsy hound!"
</p>
<p>
"He did," said the skipper. "But I'll give
you a chance of gettin' even before you are a
week older. You see if I don't."
</p>
<p>
And in the cabin the partners were staring at
each other in great surprise.
</p>
<p>
"This is mutiny," said Sloggett. But Gruddle
growled.
</p>
<p>
"Don't be an ass, Sloggett," said the senior
partner. "'Ow can a captain be guilty of
mutiny? The very idea is absurd."
</p>
<p>
So it was, of course.
</p>
<p>
"I don't believe he will go into Gibraltar
at all," said Gruddle with a gasp. "You chaps
'ave put the old chap's back up, and when 'e is
mad 'e's capable of anything."
</p>
<p>
"He wouldn't dare," said Butterworth. "Do
you mean he will take us on to Capetown?"
</p>
<p>
"That's what I do mean," sighed the wretched
senior partner, who did not find that he enjoyed
the sea at all. "That is exactly wot I do mean."
</p>
<p>
"Good Lord," said Shody, "and there ain't
enough decent grub to do more than take us to
Gibraltar."
</p>
<p>
"This is a very 'orrid situation," said Gruddle,
"and we owes it entirely to you, Butterworth,
for quarrellin' with the second mate. I believe
you done a lot more than call him clumsy. I'll
lay odds you was grossly insultin', as you always
are."
</p>
<p>
The others turned on Butterworth and said that
they believed it too, and the unhappy Butterworth
acknowledged that he had called Cade a hound.
</p>
<p>
"I'm right as usual," said Gruddle; "and if
I know my man no apology will do any good.
I can see that they are savage because we cut
down their wages. I've a good mind to raise
'em again till we get a chance to cut 'em down
safely. We was fools to come this 'ere trip, and
we owe it all to Butterworth who suggested it."
</p>
<p>
Butterworth got it all round, and was in an
extreme state of wretchedness.
</p>
<p>
"I think that if Butterworth is a gent, as we
are all ready to believe," said Shody, "that 'e
will go at once and apologise to that beast of a
second mate; and we can tell the skipper that we
will raise 'is wages again—till we can sack 'im."
</p>
<p>
This seemed a very good idea to everyone
but Butterworth.
</p>
<p>
"I never apologised to anyone, and I ain't
goin' to begin with a man like Cade," said
Butterworth stubbornly.
</p>
<p>
"You're not a man of business in the least,"
said Shody. "I always maintained that we
lose more money by your manners, w'ich are
those of a pig, than we ever gain by your sharp
practice. And now, 'avin' got your partners
into a 'orrid mess with a mad and insubordinate
captain, you are prepared to see them eat
muck on'y fit for sea-goin' folks. The on'y
consolation is that you will 'ave to eat it yourself."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Butterworth, do apologise," said Gruddle
with tears in his eyes, "do apologise, for if you
eat a little dirt in doin' so it is far better than
eatin' all you will if we continue this 'orrid
and disastrous trip."
</p>
<p>
The others agreed with Gruddle, and at last
Butterworth was induced to put his pride in his
pocket and try an apology on Cade.
</p>
<p>
"It won't work, I know it won't work," said the
cause of all their woes. "That Cade 'as a down
on me I know, and 'e isn't a gentleman and won't
take an apology from one. But all the same I'll
try, though I don't see why it should all be put on
me. Men like these officers of ours think a deal more
of a few shillin's a week than a few cross words,
and it was Gruddle who cut down their wages.
I think it is Gruddle who should apologise."
</p>
<p>
But Gruddle argued that he had not called Cade
a hound, and when Butterworth went off on his
painful errand he turned to the others and said—
</p>
<p>
"The hidea of Butterworth thinkin' that 'e
is a gentleman!"
</p>
<p>
They all shook their heads at the idea of
Butterworth doing so, and told each other
stories of his origin in a pawnship in the Borough
Road.
</p>
<p>
"And 'e 'asn't manners either," sighed Shody.
</p>
<p>
By this time it was noon, and Cade was on
the bridge, while Thripp was in the skipper's
cabin hearing a fuller account of the row than
Cade had given him. Cade was in no frame
of mind to receive an apology from anyone.
He took things hard, and chewed over them
horribly.
</p>
<p>
"Hound, clumsy hound, am I?" said Cade
as he paced the bridge with his hands in his
pockets. "I'd like to 'clumsy hound' him.
Clumsy hound, and I didn't knock him down!
Bein' married makes a coward of a man!"
</p>
<p>
He turned about to find the object of his
wrath on the sacred bridge. It made him quite
forget that he was married, and that Mrs. Cade
was hard to deal with if the money was not
forthcoming in due season. He stared at
Butterworth in the most offensive way, and the apology
with which the junior partner was primed stuck
in his throat.
</p>
<p>
"What the devil do you want here?" asked
Cade savagely. "Don't you know that this
part of the vessel is private? But perhaps
you have come to say that you are sorry for
callin' me out of my name just now, when I
didn't knock you down as I should have done?"
</p>
<p>
It seemed peculiarly hard lines to Butterworth
that his act of grace was to be discounted in this
way, and as he was not by any means as big
a coward as Gruddle or Shody he fired up at
once.
</p>
<p>
"I was goin' to apologise, but now I won't,
and I defy you to knock me down, and you are
a clumsy hound, so there!"
</p>
<p>
He put up his hands a moment too late, for
Cade made a jump like a buck and caught him
full on the jaw, and the junior partner went down
like a sack of coals. He got up again more
quickly than was wise, and once more went
down. This time he did not get up, though he
was invited to do so with great politeness by
the second mate. For when Cade had it all
his own way, and had wiped out the sense of
self-contempt which had lately been troubling him,
he grew quite happy.
</p>
<p>
"Get up, dear, and let me knock you endways
once more," he said in the most agreeable tones
at his command. "But I see you won't, my
chicken. You have had enough, and you may
go now and send up your partners one by one,
and I'll serve the sailor-robbin' scum in the
same way. Get out of this, and next time
don't forget that at the first crooked word,
though it is only rams'-horns, I'll knock you as
flat as a jib down-haul. This here bridge is
private."
</p>
<p>
And Butterworth rose and staggered down to
his partners with his hand to his jaw.
</p>
<p>
"I'm much happier than I was, and if the
old girl cuts up rough at my gettin' the sack
again, why all I have to say is that keelin'
Butterworth over is worth double the money," said
Cade joyfully.
</p>
<p>
By this time the skipper had come to a decision
which would have pleased Cade even more
than knocking the junior partner endways.
Thripp said that he did not care if the skipper
did it. In fact, he wanted him to do it, and
did not care if it cost him his billet and he had
to ship before the stick in a wind-jammer for the
rest of his life. He also went on to say that
it would be a joy to him always, and that it
would be an equal joy to all hands.
</p>
<p>
"Then that's decided on," said the 'old man'
firmly. "We ain't goin' into Gibraltar this
trip, not by a hatful, and when their special
grub gives out we'll decide what is to follow."
</p>
<p>
"Yes, sir," said the mate, and he turned in
to get a snooze before it was his turn to go on
watch again. Jordan walked into the saloon,
and was passing the partners like a ship in full
sail passing some mud-barges, when he was
pulled up by Sloggett.
</p>
<p>
"Captain Jordan, Mr. Butterworth has been
knocked down by the second mate."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, has he?" asked Jordan.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, I have," roared the unfortunate man
who had not got his apology out in time to
save himself. "Yes, I 'ave, and when we get
to Gibraltar I'll 'ave 'im in jail as sure as I'm
one of the owners of this vessel."
</p>
<p>
Jordan was perfectly reckless, and cared nothing
by now for any of them. He laughed, and
walked on towards his cabin.
</p>
<p>
"Ain't you goin' to do nothin' about it?"
asked Shody.
</p>
<p>
"Nothin'," said the skipper. "Serves the
measly little swine right. I hope Mr. Cade
will serve the lot of you the same way before
we get to Capetown."
</p>
<p>
With that shot, which clean hulled them and
made them quiver, he went into his cabin and
slammed the door upon them.
</p>
<p>
"There, there, what did I tell you?" wailed
Gruddle. "'E's goin' to take us on to Africa,
and we can't stop 'im."
</p>
<p>
The prospect of being shut in a ship with
officers who totally refused to recognise that
they had any status but passengers was very
dreadful, but over and above that there was the
question of what would become of the business,
with none to attend to it but underpaid clerks
who were not allowed to know the dark and
secret ways of their employers. And then there
was the question of the grub. Shody fairly
quailed at the prospect. They turned on poor
smitten Butterworth like one man, and if
Cade needed any more revenge they gave it
him.
</p>
<p>
"You must go and speak to the skipper,
Butterworth," they said in chorus, "you must
persuade him to act reasonable."
</p>
<p>
"Yes, and be knocked down again!" said
the wretched junior, whose head was aching
as the result of Cade's hard fists. "'E's a much
more powerful man than that overbearin' beast
on the bridge, and I ain't goin' to be whippin'
boy for any of you."
</p>
<p>
"But you got us to come," urged Gruddle.
</p>
<p>
"I wish to 'eavens I 'ad died before I thought
of it," sighed Butterworth. "But who would
'ave thought as men like them, under our thumb
so to speak, would 'ave taken things as they
'ave done. It ain't my fault."
</p>
<p>
But they said it was, and at last Gruddle
with a groan suggested that they should raise
the skipper's wages if he would be good and
kind to them, and not ruin them by taking
them to Africa.
</p>
<p>
"For don't let us disguise it from ourselves,
it will be ruin or very near it. We'll get back
and find ourselves in the Court, without any of
them bills provided for," said the senior partner.
"Butterworth, I don't believe you ever tried
to apologise to the second mate at all."
</p>
<p>
"He knocked me down as soon as I come on
the bridge," screamed Butterworth angrily.
</p>
<p>
"You should 'ave apologised to a man like
that from a safe distance," said the wise and
sad Gruddle. "You 'ad no business on the
bridge, and you know it. 'Owever, I insist that
you go and speak polite to the captain, who
won't 'it you, I'm sure, while you are so swelled
from what the second mate 'as done."
</p>
<p>
It took quite a quarter of an hour's combined
persuasion to make Butterworth put his head
into the lion's den, and he only did it on the
understanding that he was to be empowered to
offer the skipper a rise of three pounds a month
and an indemnity for his insubordination.
</p>
<p>
"Very well," the others agreed, "you can
say we forgives him for his mutinous conduct,
and won't take any steps in the matter if 'e
lands us at Gib as arranged. And of course
our sayin' so means nothin', and we can 'ave
'im sacked at Capetown by cable, and put on
the street."
</p>
<p>
Even then Butterworth was very uneasy,
and demurred to going to interview the ferocious
Jordan without some kind of an excuse.
</p>
<p>
"'Adn't we better wait till 'e comes out to
dinner?" urged Butterworth, "and then our
speakin' will come natural, or more natural
than now."
</p>
<p>
Sloggett looked up at this.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, if you are such a coward as to want
an excuse I can give you one," he said. "I
quite forgot till this very moment that I brought
a letter from the office for this old scoundrel of
a Jordan. So you can take it in, Butterworth."
</p>
<p>
But the junior partner did not like being
called a coward after his encounter with the
second mate, and he was very cross with
Sloggett.
</p>
<p>
"Coward yourself," he said angrily. "Why
don't you take it? I'll bet you 'aven't the
pluck to call that Cade a clumsy 'ound."
</p>
<p>
"No more 'ave you, now," said Sloggett; "and
if you like I'll take on your job with Jordan,
and give 'im the letter myself."
</p>
<p>
"All right, you can," said Butterworth; "and
I'll take five to three in sovs. that you don't
get an 'idin'."
</p>
<p>
That no one offered to lay these odds made
Sloggett very uncomfortable, but as he had
undertaken the job he went through with it,
though he did it with a very pale face. He took
the letter from his pocket, without knowing
that by so doing he was rendering their trip to
Capetown a dead certainty, and walked to
the skipper's cabin. He paused for a moment
before he knocked, and the junior partner of
the unhappy firm laughed. That laugh gave
Sloggett the necessary stimulus to action, and
he tapped very mildly at Jordan's cabin.
</p>
<p>
"Come in," roared the skipper, in a voice
like a distant thunderstorm, and Sloggett did
as he was bid, and did it as mildly as he had
knocked.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, captain, I forgot to tell you that I
brought you a letter from the office which came
just as I was leavin' it."
</p>
<p>
"Put it down then," said the skipper in
anything but a conciliatory tone. But Sloggett
was not put off by that. He could not conceive
that anyone would not come off his perch at
the sound of money.
</p>
<p>
"I want to talk to you about raisin' your
screw, captain," he said, with an obsequiousness
which was very rare with him. "I want to talk
with you on the subject of raisin' your screw."
</p>
<p>
"I don't want to have any conversation
with you or any of your partners," said the
skipper truculently; "and if you have any
thing to say on that or any other subject, you
can say it when I come to dinner."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, very well," said Sloggett. "I am sorry
I have disturbed you, but I forgot to tell you
that I 'ad a letter for you, and that was really
why I came in."
</p>
<p>
"I told you to put it down, didn't I?" asked
the skipper. "So do it and get."
</p>
<p>
Sloggett withdrew like a dog with his tail
between his legs, and went back to his friends
and reported that Jordan was mad and intractable.
And in the meantime the 'old man'
took his letter and stared at it.
</p>
<p>
"By crumbs," said Jordan, "it's from the poor
old girl that always wanted to marry me! It
is three years since she proposed last, and I
thought she had got tired of it. If she hasn't
I'm blowed if I won't think of doin' it after
all."
</p>
<p>
He opened the letter eagerly, and when he
had read it he sighed and said—
</p>
<p>
"Poor old girl, well, well, well! Who would
have thought it?"
</p>
<p>
He walked up and down his narrow cabin,
and as he did so he shook his head. Nevertheless
there was quite another look in his
face from any he had worn since he had piled
up the <i>Grimshaw Hall</i>. He stood quite upright,
and threw back his shoulders and took
in a long breath.
</p>
<p>
"I'm devilish glad that I broke with this
gang of robbers before I knew," he said. "I
feel like a man again. Poor old girl! I'm
almost sorry that I did not marry her after all.
I'll tell this to Thripp and Cade. They shall
share in this or I'm a Dutchman of the very
worst kind."
</p>
<p>
He walked past the sad consulting partners,
and looked more haughty than ever, and yet
more good-tempered.
</p>
<p>
"I'm very much afraid that he has 'ad good
news in that letter," said Gruddle, "for if 'e
has it may make 'im more hindependent."
</p>
<p>
"I don't see 'ow 'e can be more independent
than 'e 'as been," remarked Shody. "When a
captain gets independent enough to call the
firm that owns 'im an infernal lot of 'ogs, that
seems to me the very 'eight of independence."
</p>
<p>
But, as a matter of fact, Jordan was more
independent. He went up to Thripp, who was
on the bridge, with a curious expression of mixed
joy and sadness.
</p>
<p>
"You remember that poor old girl that I told
you of, Thripp?"
</p>
<p>
"The one that hankered to marry you?"
asked Thripp.
</p>
<p>
"The same," said the skipper. "She has
pegged out, the poor old girl, at least she says
she has."
</p>
<p>
Thripp stared.
</p>
<p>
"What do you mean by that, sir? How could
she say so?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
The skipper showed him the letter that he had
just received.
</p>
<p>
"Sloggett brought it on board, and gave it me
just now as he came crawlin' to my cabin and
let on a lot of slush about raisin' my pay agin'
that they had just cut down, because they
have tumbled to the fact that I've a down on them
and the likes of them, and mean to get even
by takin' them to Capetown. And she says
in the letter that she isn't long for this weary
lonely world (those are her words, and they
make me feel as if I'd been ungrateful and ought
to have overlooked the fact that she wasn't
pretty), and that when she has deceased the
letter is to go to me at once, and from that
I draw the conclusion that she has deceased
and is no more, don't you see?"
</p>
<p>
"I see," said the mate. "But does she say
anything else? She hasn't left you a ship by
any chance?"
</p>
<p>
"Not to say a ship," said Jordan, shaking
his head, "but what's as good. It appears
that she naturally let on that she owned ships,
bein' a woman and a little inclined to brag, not
havin' good looks to fall back on, and it turns
out that she was in the tug and lighter line in
Hartlepool, and, as I gather, doin' well enough,
and makin' money with three good tugs and
a number of lighters and barges not named, as
well as a coal-yard with a well-established
connection, and she has left the whole shoot to me."
</p>
<p>
"I congratulate you," said Thripp. "Now
you are really independent and can go for Gruddle
& Co. just as you like."
</p>
<p>
The skipper nodded.
</p>
<p>
"So I can, Thripp, so I can; but it is a great
pleasure to me to think that I told 'em the truth
and called 'em hogs before I had had this letter.
Thripp, I feel more like a man than I have done
since the very painful day that I had my certificate
suspended. Now I'll go and tell Cade.
He'll be glad to know it."
</p>
<p>
He turned to leave the bridge, when Thripp
sighed.
</p>
<p>
"I suppose if you do take 'em on to Table
Bay we shall all get the dirty kick-out there,
sir?" said Thripp in rather a melancholy tone
of voice.
</p>
<p>
The skipper laughed jovially.
</p>
<p>
"Of course we shall, Thripp, but think of
the satisfaction of doin' it! Oh, but I'm a
happy man this hour! And if you can guess
what I mean to do in addition to takin' them
where they by no manner of means want to go,
I'll stand you a bottle of their champagne, of
which I mean to have some or bust."
</p>
<p>
"It's all very well for you now, with your
tugs and your lighters and a coal-yard," grumbled
Thripp, "but what about me and Cade, and our
wives?"
</p>
<p>
The 'old man' stared at his chief officer in
the very greatest surprise.
</p>
<p>
"Why, didn't I say that I wanted you and
him to come into the business with me, if you
ain't too proud to be the skipper of a tug and
manage lighters and a coal-yard?"
</p>
<p>
"You never said a word about it," said Thripp
with a pleased and happy smile. "But if you
mean that, I'm in with you, sir, and anything
you like to do with the firm shall have my
heartiest support, even if you go so far as to
turn 'em for'ard to work."
</p>
<p>
Jordan looked at him with the intensest
surprise.
</p>
<p>
"How in the name of all that is holy and
righteous did you guess it?" he asked with
wide-opened eyes. "Thripp, my man, that
is my intention, and no mistake about it. But
keep it dark, and I will wake up Cade and make
him joyful, a thing he very rarely is, for his
career havin' not been a success appears to
weigh on his mind, and his missis is a tartar,
as I judge. Women worship success, and the
fact that the poor old girl that has left me these
tugs knew that I came to grief, and yet offered
to marry me in spite of it, touched me at the
time as much as the tugs do now."
</p>
<p>
In five minutes there were three exceedingly
happy officers on board the <i>Nemesis</i>. Such a thing
had not happened in one of Messrs. Gruddle &
Company's boats since there had been such a firm.
But now there were four very unhappy partners.
</p>
<p>
"I can't think why they are so happy," said
Gruddle when the skipper and the mate came
down and began their dinner, "but I feel sure
it don't mean any good to us. I never was in
such a position, and I don't believe it ever
happened before that the owners of a vessel was
in such a one. Oh, what shall we do if he won't
go to Gib?"
</p>
<p>
At his instigation a bottle of champagne was
sent over to the captain's table.
</p>
<p>
"Don't you understand, Butterworth," said
the senior partner, when Butterworth objected,
"that we are in a persition that is, I may say,
unparalleled? A captain has an awful lot
of power, and I gather from 'is be'aviour that 'e
knows it. In the office we gave 'im all proper
orders for Capetown, and said nothin' about
Gibraltar, because you hadn't been fool enough
to suggest it then. If 'e won't go there we
can't make 'im, so if a little kindness and a
bottle of champagne will do it it is very cheap
at the price."
</p>
<p>
"I would like to murder 'im," said Butterworth,
but the champagne was sent over to the
skipper's table all the same. It was returned
quite courteously, or, at anyrate, without any
demonstration of hostility, and the partners
knew then that war had been declared, and
that peace could be obtained at no price, do
what they would. They put it all down to the
letter that Sloggett had given him, and they
attacked Sloggett, who in revenge drank far
more wine than he could stand, and went first
for one of them and then for another, and finally
got up enough steam to swear at the captain.
In one minute and fifteen seconds by any good
chronometer Mr. Sloggett was in irons, and in
a spare berth without anything to furnish it.
Captain Jordan was himself again, and not the
kind of man to put up with anything from
anybody.
</p>
<p>
When Sloggett was quiet and subdued, the
skipper told them in a few brief but well-chosen
words what he and his officers and the whole
ship's company thought of them. He told them
his opinion of their charity, and of the wages
they paid, and of the grub they put on board
their vessel. He went on to state in very vivid
language what was said of them all the world
over, and then paused for a reply, which they
did not give him. He asked them what they
thought of themselves, and whatever they
thought upon that subject they did not venture
to state it. He asked Thripp if he would like
to say anything, and Thripp did make a few
remarks about things the captain had omitted.
Then Jordan asked them if they would like to
hear Mr. Cade on the subject, for if so Mr. Thripp
could relieve the second officer for a few minutes.
They expressed no anxiety to hear any more
counsel for the prosecution, and then Gruddle
made a heart-rending appeal for mercy.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, take us into Gibraltar, captain, and
we will forgive you all, and even raise your pay
to what you think is the proper figure. Oh,
don't take us to Capetown, for there isn't food
enough, and I shall die of indigestion."
</p>
<p>
"There is plenty of food," said Jordan. "Oh,
there is heaps of grub such as Mr. Shody sent
on board himself, and as a lesson I'm goin' to
take you to South Africa, and I hope to the
Lord that you will survive it."
</p>
<p>
Shody shivered; he knew what bad pork
was like. Gruddle, as a Jew, was no judge of it.
But the beef was even worse than the pork, and
the men for'ard were almost in mutiny about
it already.
</p>
<p>
"But food like that is only fit for men
who are doin' hard work," said the unlucky
Shody. The skipper's eyes flashed and then
twinkled.
</p>
<p>
"Is that so?" he said. "If it is so, there
seems to be a remedy."
</p>
<p>
What the remedy was he declined to
state, and the firm declined to believe that it
could be the one that occurred to them all with
dreadful vividness. Oh no, it could not be that!
Captain Jordan left them thinking, and retired
into privacy for the remainder of the night. The
trouble of wondering what was to happen to them
came to an end in the morning, when by some
strange chance, if it was a chance, the deck hands
came as a deputation to the captain and laid
a complaint against the grub. Jordan requested
the presence on deck of the partners, and they
knew better than to refuse.
</p>
<p>
"What you have to say about the food will
be better said before the owners, my men," said
the skipper. "As you know, they happen to be
on board."
</p>
<p>
As he spoke they crawled on deck, looking
very unhappy. The steward, Smith, who began
to see how the land lay, and treated them with
far less respect already, told them what the
trouble was.
</p>
<p>
"The men for'ard says the grub is rotten,
gents, and they are furious and fightable about
it. Oh, they are savage and very 'ostile."
</p>
<p>
That was distinctly calculated to cheer them
up, and they were as cheerful as if they were
ordered three dozen at the gangway. With them
went Sloggett, who had been released from irons.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, here you are, gentlemen," said the
skipper cheerfully. For the first time since he
had been an officer all his sympathies were with
the men. He was no longer the captain only, he
was also a man, and he understood their point
of view. "I thought it best that you should
hear the men's complaints about the food. Now
then, my men, what have you to say?"
</p>
<p>
The spokesman of the crew stood in front of
the rest, and after some half-audible encouragement
from his fellows he burst into speech.
</p>
<p>
"The grub is 'orrid, sir. Oh, it is the 'orridest
that we was ever in company with. The pork
stinks raw or boiled, and the beef fair pawls the
teeth of the 'ole crowd. The biscuit is full of
worms, and what isn't is as 'ard as flint. The
butter makes us sick, sir. And not to make a song
about it, but to cut it short, we are bein' starved."
</p>
<p>
"I'm sorry to hear it," said the captain.
"But I am not responsible for the food, men,
and when we get to Capetown I'll do my best
to see that better stores are put on board. For
the stores that you speak of Mr. Shody is
responsible."
</p>
<p>
"If they are bad I 'ave been imposed on,"
said Shody; but the men made audible and
disrespectful remarks which the captain suppressed
at once.
</p>
<p>
"That will do. Go for'ard and I'll see what
can be done."
</p>
<p>
There was only one thing that could be done,
and he did it there and then. He had all the
provisions that the partners had brought aboard
divided among the men for'ard. He sternly
refused Thripp's suggestion that the afterguard
should share the plunder. Even more, the
remaining bottles of champagne went the same
way, and for the first time in their lives the
deck-hands and stokers had a real glass of wine that
had cost someone ninety shillings a dozen. The
firm stood by in mute misery.
</p>
<p>
"That's the beginnin'," said the skipper
sternly, and not one of them had the pluck to
ask him what he meant. Gruddle went in
tears to Thripp and asked him.
</p>
<p>
"You're the worst of the lot, you are," said
the independent mate, "and I decline to tell
you. But I've no objection to throw out a dark
'int that this boat is undermanned all round both
on deck and in the stokehold. Does the thought
that that gives rise to in your mind make you
curl up? Oh, Gruddle, all this is real jam to us,
and we mean to scoff it to the very last spoonful.
It will do us good!"
</p>
<p>
Gruddle grasped him by the sleeve.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Mr. Thripp, if you'll 'elp us out of 'is
'ands we'll make you the captain and give you
anythin' you like to ask for in reason."
</p>
<p>
"Would it run to a thousand pounds, do you
think?" asked the mate.
</p>
<p>
Gruddle groaned horribly, but said that he
thought it might run so far.
</p>
<p>
"Then let me tell you," said Thripp, "that
Jordan is an old pal of mine, and I wouldn't
go back on him for ten thousand, or even more.
And over and above that, my son, I wouldn't lose
the sight of you trimmin' coal in a bunker for
the worth of the firm."
</p>
<p>
He left Gruddle planted to the deck, a wretched
sight for the gods, and promptly told Jordan
of the offer that had been made to him. Jordan
nodded.
</p>
<p>
"I ain't surprised," said Jordan. "But, after
all, Gruddle is by no means the worst of the gang,
and I won't send him down into the stokehold.
I mean to keep that for Shody. And I want
you to understand that I ain't doin' this out of
revenge, but out of a sense of public duty."
</p>
<p>
He quite believed it, and Thripp saw that he
did.
</p>
<p>
"It's all hunky so far as I'm concerned," said
Thripp, "and I hope that you will put Butterworth
in Cade's watch and Sloggett in mine."
</p>
<p>
That was exactly what the skipper had decided
on, and he was much surprised to see that Thripp
had fathomed his mind.
</p>
<p>
"To-morrow by noon we shall just about be
abreast of Gib, and a long way to the west
of it," said Jordan. "I'll give 'em liberty till
then, and when I send 'em for'ard I will tell
'em how near Gib is. It will serve them right.
I will do it without visibly triumphing over them,
Thripp, for I don't believe in treadin' on those
who are down."
</p>
<p>
"No more do I, sir," said the mate, "not
unless they thoroughly deserve it."
</p>
<p>
He left the captain pondering over the
situation, and presently imparted to Butterworth
the fate in store for him. As Butterworth had
nothing whatever to say he went on to the bridge
and told Cade of the joy to come. Cade was
very magnanimous.
</p>
<p>
"I'll treat him no worse than any of the
others," said Cade with a smile, "no worse."
</p>
<p>
"That's good of you," said Thripp.
</p>
<p>
"Not a bit worse," said Cade again. "They
are a holy lot of ruffians in the starboard watch,
as you know, and I'll give them all socks if they
don't look out. I tell you, sir, that I'm about
sorry for Butterworth in that gang. Almost,
but not quite."
</p>
<p>
He had a habit of repeating his words, of
chewing the cud of them, and Thripp heard him
once more mumble to himself that he was almost
sorry, 'but not quite.' The mate knew that the
one who would be quite sorry was Butterworth.
He also had suspicions that Mr. Sloggett as a
deck hand under his own supervision was likely
to learn many things of which he was at present
ignorant. He went to the engine-room and saw
the chief engineer. To him he revealed the
interesting fact that Shody was to be made an
extra hand on the engine-room staff. Old Maclehose
grinned like a monkey at the sight of a nut.
</p>
<p>
"Weel, weel, and do you say so?" asked
Mac. "That is most encouragin', and it's
more than whusky to me. He's the man that
is responsible for all the stores, is he not, Thripp?"
</p>
<p>
Thripp said that he was.
</p>
<p>
"My boys will kill him, I shouldna wonder,"
said Mac. "But if they should, I'm hopin' it
will be an accident, Thripp."
</p>
<p>
He wiped his hands with a lump of waste,
and thereby signified that he wiped his hands
of Shody's untimely decease.
</p>
<p>
"The oil is bad," said Mac. "I'm of a solid
opeenion that Shody won't be so oily after
we are through the tropics as he is the
noo."
</p>
<p>
He said no more. He was a man of few
words. Thripp knew he could be trusted for
deeds. He went on deck and was almost sorry
for Shody. The partners were quite sorry
for themselves, and felt as helpless as flies in
the web of a spider. They ceased to struggle,
and when the usual grub of the <i>Nemesis</i> was
served to them by an insolent steward, who
cared no longer for their authority, they sat
and did not eat it and said nothing.
</p>
<p>
The end came at noon next day, when they
were all on deck in fine weather, with Gibraltar
far away on the port beam. Old Mac came
on deck and complained to the skipper that he
was short-handed in the stokehold. Cade spoke
up with a pleasant grin.
</p>
<p>
"You know, Mr. Maclehose, that we can't spare
you anyone from the deck. We're short
ourselves, are we not, Mr. Thripp?"
</p>
<p>
"Two short at least," said Thripp, who also
smiled as if he were pleased with the fact.
</p>
<p>
"I'll find you help," said Jordan, who was
the only one who did not smile. He turned to
the partners, who were clustered together in a
sullen and disconsolate group.
</p>
<p>
"Do you hear, gentlemen, that the chief
engineer is short of the hands he should have?
I think I told you so in the office, and if I
remember rightly, Mr. Shody said I would have to do
on what the firm thought enough."
</p>
<p>
Shody turned as white as new waste, and then
grew the colour of waste that has been used.
The others fidgeted uneasily, but no one said
anything.
</p>
<p>
"Under the circumstances I have concluded
to give you the assistance of Mr. Shody," said
the skipper.
</p>
<p>
"I won't go," roared Shody. "You can't make
me. It is a crime, and I protest. Oh, it is
scandalous!"
</p>
<p>
"You <i>will</i> go," said Jordan, "and I'll see
that you do. I'm goin' to teach you all something,
I can assure you. And if you don't follow
Mr. Maclehose at once, I'll have the stokers up
to carry you down."
</p>
<p>
Gruddle implored the skipper to be merciful,
and Jordan said that he would be.
</p>
<p>
"You are the oldest of the lot, Gruddle, and
I have decided that I can best avail myself of
your services by askin' you to assist the steward.
The duties will not be heavy, and all you are
asked is to be polite and willin'. You can
now commence. If you stand there and argue
I will put you into the stokehold along with
Mr. Shody."
</p>
<p>
Gruddle did not attempt to argue. He was
much too afraid that the captain would keep
his word. He crawled down below and went to
Smith, who set him to work on the light and
easy task of cleaning out the captain's berth.
While he was at it he heard loud yells from
the main-deck, and was told by the steward
that four stokers were carrying his partner
Shody down below. Over what happened there
a decent veil may be drawn. Old Maclehose
and the engine-room complement had very little
trouble with him and taught him a very great
deal in a very short time. Sloggett, whose spirit
had been taken out of him by being put in irons,
went into the mate's watch without a single
kick; and though Butterworth began to say
something, what he was about to tell them never
got further than his lips. Cade caught him
by the neck, and running him aft discharged
him at the door of the fo'c'sle, and recommended
him to the tender mercies of the watch below.
</p>
<p>
"There, that is done now," said Jordan.
"I feel once more as if I was captain of my own
ship, and as if I had performed a public duty."
</p>
<p>
"We may get into trouble, you know," said
Thripp.
</p>
<p>
"Not at all," said the skipper. "They will
never dare say a word about it, and when we
anchor in Table Bay we'll lock them up, and
skip ashore and start for England under other
names right off. Timms of the <i>Singhalese</i> will
be about sailin' the very day we should get
there, and he'll be only too pleased to hear
the yarn and give us a passage. In two months
we'll be runnin' the tug and lighter business,
Thripp, and Cade can run the coal-yard."
</p>
<p>
He smoked a happy pipe.
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p><a id="chap02"></a></p>
<h3>
THE STRANGE SITUATION OF CAPTAIN BROGGER
</h3>
<p>
"Brogger is no class!" said the crowd for'ard
in the <i>Enchantress</i>, a big barque belonging to
Liverpool, and just then loading wheat at
Portland, Oregon. "Billy Brogger is no class; but
mean—mean to the backbone!"
</p>
<p>
They hated him worse than poison, for there
are some kinds of poison that sailormen do not
hate. And Jack Eales, who was the head and
soul and mouthpiece of the starboard watch,
for the hundredth time explained the reason of
their hatred.
</p>
<p>
"On'y it ain't 'atred," said Eales, "it ain't
'atred. It's plain, straightforward despisery.
I've sailed with rough and tough and 'ard
skippers, and never 'ated 'em. But our 'old
man' is religious without no religion. Oh, that's
a mean thing, that is! And there's no pleasin'
of 'im. Never a decent word, nor a tot out of
'im if we works our innards out. The skipper
ain't no class! 'E lets on to despise sailormen,
and calls us ignorant. And what's 'is word for
ever when 'e's jawin'—'You no sailor, you!' And
'ere I am ready to lay my duff for a month
of Sundays against 'alf a pint of dandyfunk that
'e couldn't make a four-stranded Mattie Walker
to save 'is unsaved soul! Called me no sailor,
didn't 'e, over a real nice job of wire splicin'!
I'll bet the 'old man' couldn't do an eye splice in
a piece of inch and an 'alf manilla without thinkin'
about it. Those that know 'im say 'e was the
clumsiest ass ever sent to sea. Went up six
times for 'is second mate's stiff. Why, the mate
and the second 'ere knows 'im for no seaman, and
'e's as 'andy with a 'ambone as a pig with a
pianner. They two loaths 'im just as much as
us!"
</p>
<p>
There was a deal of truth in the indictment,
for Brogger would never have got a ship but for
the fact that the chief owners of the <i>Enchantress</i>
were his elder brothers.
</p>
<p>
"'Tis a pity we don't skip out here," said
one of the men, "the old swine would have
his work cut out to get a fresh crowd."
</p>
<p>
"Ay, it's a pity we're such a quiet, sober
crowd," replied Eales, who on occasion was
neither quiet nor sober; "but, as I showed
you after our passage out 'ere, it would be money
in Brogger's pocket and the owners' if we quit.
And 'tis true 'e owns about three sixty-fourths
of 'er 'imself. The boardin'-'ouse bosses are
selling sailors at sixty dollars per 'ead. Flesh
and blood are cheap to-day! I wish I could
hinvent somethin' to get even with the 'old man'
in this bally, rowdy, shanghain' old Portland. I'll
give ten dollars to the son of a gun that gives
me the least 'int of a working scheme to do it."
</p>
<p>
"D'ye mean it, Jack Eales?" asked the whole
crowd.
</p>
<p>
"Don't jump down a man's throat simultaneous,"
said Eales indignantly, "for in course
I means it. And what's more, I've got the
stuff. I ain't relyin' on that blasted old devil
dodger aft for no measly five bob a week. Since
I took the pledge not to get drunk—real drunk,
that is—more'n once a month, I can trust myself
with money, and I've got it 'ere."
</p>
<p>
He kicked the chest on which he sat to show
his bank.
</p>
<p>
"Blimy," said a young cockney called Corlett,
who was the happiest chap on board, "I'll 'ave
a shot for Jack's ten dollars!"
</p>
<p>
"My chest's not locked," said Jack, and
among so friendly a crowd the suggestion, which
was the friendliest joke, was marked up to Eales
as happy wit.
</p>
<p>
"I'm in the race for that purse," said Bush,
who was the oldest seaman on board.
</p>
<p>
"We're all after it," said the crowd, and for
days afterwards they chased Jack Eales with
absurd proposals, the very least of which was a
felony, and the most pleasing absolute piracy.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, go to thunder," said Jack, when a lump
of a chap called Pizzey proposed to scuttle the
<i>Enchantress</i> as she lay alongside the wharf.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, very well," said Pizzey, who was much
hurt at the way his plan was received, "but I'll
have you know that if you do it after all, that
ten dollars is mine."
</p>
<p>
The nature of seamen is so childlike, so forgetful,
so forgiving, that without further and continual
irritation they would have talked till the
vessel was towed down the Willamette and the
Columbia, and for that matter all the way to
Liverpool. But the skipper saw to it that they
had something to growl about. He kept them
working a quarter of an hour after knock-off
time three times a week. He cut down their
usual five shillings a week to a dollar, on the ground
that he was reckoning in dollars just then. The
fresh grub he sent on board was enough, as they
said in the fo'c'sle, to make a pig take to fasting.
And he nagged and growled without ceasing till
Plump, the mate, who was a very decent fellow,
hated him worse than the crew did. He listened
to the second mate Dodman, when Dodman
burst out into long-suppressed bad language.
</p>
<p>
"I oughtn't to agree with you, but I do,
I own it freely," said Plump, as they stood against
the poop-rail and watched Brogger pick his way
through the mud on the wharf. "I ought to tell
you to dry up, Mr. Dodman, but I find it hard
to do my duty."
</p>
<p>
"He's a miserable, mean, measly, growling,
discontented devil," said Dodman in a red
heat, as he mopped his forehead. "Comes
and tells me I ain't fit to stow mud in a
mud-barge. Ain't it true when he was second in this
same old <i>Enchantress</i> he stowed sugar on
kerosine? And if the old swab can rig a double
Spanish burton, I'll eat this belayin' pin. Our
skipper's a know-nothing, sir."
</p>
<p>
"It's my duty not to listen to you," said
Plump sadly. "I don't hear you, Mr. Dodman."
</p>
<p>
"Then I'd like to roar it through a speakin'
trumpet," said the insubordinate second greaser.
"I'd love to put it into flags, and let every
ship in Portland learn the precious truth. Didn't
he say it was your fault, sir, that Smith skipped
out last night?"
</p>
<p>
"He did," said Plump darkly, "when he'd
told the best worker in the ship that he was
a soldier! Told him he was a soldier!"
</p>
<p>
With the land alongside, what could any
self-respecting seaman do but go ashore after
so dire an insult? They say at sea 'a messmate
before a shipmate, a shipmate before a dog, and
a dog before a soldier.' It was no wonder
Smith skipped, and was just then roaring drunk
in Lant and Gulliver's, who were the boss
boarding-house masters in Portland, and bought and
sold seamen as a ranchman might cattle.
</p>
<p>
And that very night Corlett came up to Jack
Eales as he was going ashore, and put his hand
on his shoulder. The young cockney had a
grin upon him which, properly divided, would
have made the whole ship's company look happy.
</p>
<p>
"That ten dollars is mine," said Corlett.
"Jack, you're ten dollars short. I wouldn't
part with my claim on it for nine dollars and
ninety-nine cents."
</p>
<p>
"We've 'eard too many rotten dodges lately,"
said Eales, "to take that in. What's the news
now?"
</p>
<p>
But Corlett shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"I'm for the shore with you, sonny, and I'll
tell you goin' along."
</p>
<p>
He bubbled as he walked, and every now
and again burst into a roar of laughter, which
was so infectious that Eales joined in at last.
</p>
<p>
"You are a funny bloke," said Eales; "and
I'll say this for you, Corlett: I've never looked
on you as no fool."
</p>
<p>
And Corlett sat down on a pile of lumber
and laughed till he ached.
</p>
<p>
"Me a fool! Jack Eales, I'm the smartest
cove on this coast. My notion's worth an
'undred dollars. It's as clear as mud, and
as easy as eatin' good soft tack, and so neat
that I wonder at myself. And it fits
everythin'—everythin'."
</p>
<p>
"Then out with it," said Eales.
</p>
<p>
And Corlett came out with it.
</p>
<p>
"By Gosh!" said Eales—"by Gosh!"
</p>
<p>
He collapsed upon an adjacent pile of lumber
and gasped.
</p>
<p>
"You've no right to be at sea," he said presently;
"a man with your 'ead, Corlett, ought to 'ave
a public-'ouse in a front street, and nothin' to
pay for drinks. I've only three dollars on me.
'Ere's a dollar and an 'alf. I owe you eight-fifty."
</p>
<p>
He walked ten yards and came back again.
</p>
<p>
"You should 'ave bumps on your 'ead,"
he sighed. "This is hintellec', Corlett. It ain't
mere cleverness, this isn't."
</p>
<p>
"You don't say so," said the cockney
modestly.
</p>
<p>
"I do say so," replied Eales with great
firmness; "I say it freely."
</p>
<p>
And they walked up town.
</p>
<p>
"You see," said Corlett, "'ow the 'ole thing
stows itself away. It 'ardly needs management.
Lant and Gulliver 'ates 'im, and they're that
jealous of Shanghai Smith down in 'Frisco with
'is games, they'll jump at this. And then it's
well known Mr. Plump ain't got 'is master's
ticket. And young Dodman on'y got 'is second's
ticket a v'yge ago. There'll be no goin' back
on it if the agents find the right man. By the
'Oly Frost, Jack, we'll diskiver yet if old Brogger
is 'alf a bally seaman anyway."
</p>
<p>
"It's a merricle, Corlett, it's a merricle!"
said Jack Eales. "I never quite properly
understood what books I've looked into meant
by the pure hintellec'. You're clean wasted
at sea, so you are. To-night we'll think it over,
and to-morrow you and me will go as a committee
of deputation to Lant and Gulliver if we sees
no flaw in the thing."
</p>
<p>
"Take my word, there ain't no flaw in it,"
said Corlett.
</p>
<p>
"I'm inclined to believe you," said Eales,
almost humbly. "I never thought to own up
that a man on board the <i>Enchantress</i> was my
equal, let alone my superior."
</p>
<p>
He sighed, but Corlett encouraged him.
</p>
<p>
"'Tis on'y a fluke, Jack."
</p>
<p>
"No, no," said Jack; "no, no, this is real
'ead-work. I knows it when I sees it. I'm
proud to be shipmates with you, Corlett. Shake
'ands again."
</p>
<p>
They shook hands, and presently Corlett
spent the one dollar and fifty cents which he
had earned by pure intellect.
</p>
<p>
"Per'aps I'm a fool to be at sea," he said to
himself. "I shouldn't wonder if Jack's right."
</p>
<p>
And next evening they walked up to Lant
and Gulliver's, and demanded to see either
or both of the partners in private.
</p>
<p>
"'Tis puttin' our 'eads in the lion's mouth
to come 'ere," said Jack Eales, "and you and
me will do well not to touch a drop, whatever
these land-sharks offer, Corlett. Doped drinks
ain't for me just now. So don't go large at all,
my son."
</p>
<p>
"I won't," said Corlett, "if none of 'em
don't offer me a drink three times, I can 'old
off it, Jack. Sayin' 'no' once is tol'rable easy.
I can squeeze out a second if it's a case of 'ave
to; but what I dread's the third."
</p>
<p>
Jack Eales nodded.
</p>
<p>
"The third time's what proves a man's
principles, I own. I've gone to four times more
than once soon after bein' very much under the
weather. But 'ere we are."
</p>
<p>
They came to Lant and Gulliver's boarding-house,
the whole front of which was a saloon.
It looked a 'tough' house, and it was tough
both inside and out. These gentry had a 'pull'
in Portland which enabled them to do as they
pleased, and the only thing that pleased them
was to make money. Most of the other boarding-houses
had been fined out of existence, owing
to a law that Mr. Lant had lobbied for at Salem.
His conduct in the matter had brought him
much praise for noble disinterestedness. He
had asked for fines of five hundred dollars for
gross infractions of the law instead of fifty, and
the unsuspecting Legislature said it was a splendid
suggestion, and passed the Bill with unanimity.
As a result, his rivals, who were comparatively
poor scoundrels without his control of the police,
shed their dollars once or twice and then went
under, and he had a monopoly. Both Lant
and Gulliver had what Jack Eales called 'pure
hintellec''; they would have adorned the bench
in Ohio; they might have shone as Finance
Ministers in Costa Rica or Panama.
</p>
<p>
"Well, wot is it?" asked Lant, who had
the eyes and jaws and nose of a pugilist, and
the domed skull of a philosopher. "Wot's the
trouble here? What ship are you off of?"
</p>
<p>
"We wants a private talk with you, sir,"
said Eales, who had never met Lant before,
and was more scared of him than he would
have been of any admiral. For Lant and
Gulliver's reputation is world-wide—all men who
go down to the sea in ships know them.
</p>
<p>
He wrinkled his brows at them and considered
for a moment. Then he led the way into
the private snuggery, in which as much
scoundrelism had been concocted as if it had been the head
office of a great Trust or the Russian Foreign
Office.
</p>
<p>
"Spit it out," said Lant as he sat down.
</p>
<p>
"We're in the <i>Enchantress</i>, sir," said Eales.
</p>
<p>
"And you want to get out, eh? What's
my runners about? Haven't they bin aboard
of you yet?"
</p>
<p>
He frowned savagely, and Eales hastened
to acquit any of his myrmidons of such gross
negligence.
</p>
<p>
"Oh yes, sir," he said, "they've been down
every day, but on'y one man 'as quit. We
don't want to leave 'er, but we ain't satisfied
with the skipper, sir, and we know, or at least
we suspect, that 'e ain't no favourite of yours
neither, Mr. Lant, sir."
</p>
<p>
"Well, and if he ain't?" said Lant.
</p>
<p>
"'E do abuse you something awful; don't 'e, Corlett?"
</p>
<p>
"Awful," said Corlett; "it's 'orrid to 'ear 'im."
</p>
<p>
"And 'e shipped nearly all real teetotallers
to do you in the eye, sir," said Eales, "for 'e
said, sir, as no sober man would 'ave nothing
to do with you."
</p>
<p>
"Are you a teetotaller?" asked Lant.
</p>
<p>
"To-day I am," said Eales hurriedly. "I was
drunk yesterday, and the day after I can't look
at an empty bottle even without cold shivers,
sir. And it's the same with my mate; ain't it, Corlett?"
</p>
<p>
"The sight of a tot would make me sick,"
said Corlett plaintively.
</p>
<p>
"Well, well," said Lant, "what's your game?
Spit it out, I say. I can't give all my time
to hearin' you've not the stomach of a man
between you. Now, quick, what is it?"
</p>
<p>
But Eales stood first on one leg and then on
the other.
</p>
<p>
"You, Corlett!"
</p>
<p>
"No, not me," said the seaman of pure intellect.
</p>
<p>
"Well, then, sir, Mr. Lant, does you 'ave any
sort of respect for Captain Brogger, or would
you like to get even for 'is most unkind language
respectin' you?"
</p>
<p>
Lant looked him up and down, and for a
moment was inclined to break out violently. But
he hated Brogger, who had injured his prestige
once before by taking out of Portland every man
he brought into it, and he was curious besides.
</p>
<p>
"Suppose I'd like to do him up complete-ly,"
said Lant, staring at Bales hard.
</p>
<p>
"And make 'im fair redik'lus and the laughin'
stock of the 'ole coast?"
</p>
<p>
"That would suit me," said Lant. "It would
fit me like a dandy suit of clothes."
</p>
<p>
"'E's the nastiest, meanest skipper as ever
lay in the Willamette; ain't 'e, Corlett?"
</p>
<p>
"I never 'eard of a measlier," said Corlett,
looking for a cuspidor in order to accentuate
his verdict.
</p>
<p>
"Then 'ere's for tellin' Mr. Lant the 'ole
thing," said Eales desperately. And when he
was 'through' with his scheme, Lant lay back
in his chair and laughed till he cried.
</p>
<p>
"It's great," he said, "it's great. Holy
Mackinaw, it's great! And you say he's no
seaman?"
</p>
<p>
"'E ain't even a thing in place of it, sir,"
said Eales.
</p>
<p>
"And you really won't drink?"
</p>
<p>
Eales looked at Corlett, and Corlett looked at
Eales.
</p>
<p>
"We wouldn't mind takin' a bottle down
on board, sir," said Corlett, who once more
proved his intellectual capacity.
</p>
<p>
"And mind you keep your mouths shut,"
said Lant.
</p>
<p>
"Wild 'orses shan't drag a word out of us,
sir," said Eales, "for when my mate's drunk
'e's sulky, and I'm 'appy but speechless."
</p>
<p>
And down they went on board the <i>Enchantress</i>
with their bottle, while Lant held a council of war
with his chief runner.
</p>
<p class="t3">
* * * * * * *
</p>
<p>
Portland is a hard place; there is no harder
place in the world. San Francisco, for all its
reputation, which it owes so greatly to the gold
times, is a sweet and easy health resort compared
with the trading capital of Oregon. Oregonians
from all parts of the State say it is a selfish city,
with no more sense of State patriotism than an
Italian city of the fifteenth century had of national
patriotism. But in these days Portland is
beginning to get a trifle nervous about its
reputation. It is beginning to get written about, and
the truth is told occasionally as to what goes
on there. This is why a sudden and remarkable
disappearance of Captain Brogger, two days
before the <i>Enchantress</i> was due to be towed
down stream to the ocean, caused rather more
sensation than it might have done a few years
ago. The newspapers took two sides, and
regarded two hypotheses as needing no proof.
The papers which were trying to make Portland
smell sweetly in the nostrils of the mercantile
world said that some of the boarding-house
bosses might be able to clear up the mystery.
They gave reasons for supposing that Brogger
was not loved by the tyrants of the water-front.
But other papers declared that he had been
knocked on the head and dumped into the river
by some of his own crew. One reporter declared
that a more evil-looking lot of ruffians than the
crowd on board the <i>Enchantress</i> never towed
past Kalama. This journal was partially owned
by Lant and Gulliver. They owned something
of everything, even a judge. And the good
police did what they were told, so long as it
was possible. They set about a story that
Brogger had committed suicide. The crew said
he had been looking wild of late. Mr. Plump
had no theory, and was only mad that he had
no master's certificate. Young Dodman went
round whistling, in spite of the fact that he was
the last man to have a real shine with the
skipper.
</p>
<p>
"I hope he won't come back, that's all,"
said Dodman. "If he does I'm for the shore,
boys; I'm for the shore. I've not known what
it was to be happy for months till now."
</p>
<p>
But Plump grew haggard running to the
police and the agents. The <i>Enchantress</i> was
full up to the deck-beams with the best Oregon
wheat, and was ready to go to sea. Every
hour's delay meant a notch against him with
the owners. And yet, as the owners were the
missing skipper's brothers, he did not like to
hurry. But the agents, who cared about no
man's brother, put their foot down.
</p>
<p>
"We've found you a captain, Mr. Plump."
</p>
<p>
"What sort?" asked Plump anxiously.
</p>
<p>
"He's a good man and well recommended,
and a thorough seaman."
</p>
<p>
"That'll be a change," said Plump. "Poor
old Brogger was fit to skipper a canal-barge.
All right, if you say so. We're ready if your
new man is. All we want is another hand,
and he's coming on board to-night if we sail
to-morrow. We've had luck that way, whatever
else has gone wrong. If Brogger had lived I
believe he'd have lost the whole crowd the way
he was shaping. He grew meaner every day."
</p>
<p>
And that night the new skipper came on
board. He shook hands with his officers, and
in half an hour Plump had almost forgotten
his want of a master's ticket, and Dodman
was swearing by the new man; for Captain
John Greig was a man, and no mistake! He
was quick and hard and bright and humorous,
and there was that about him which was better
than any extra certificate—he looked a seaman,
and was one. And he was as happy as he could
be to get a good ship. The vessel in which he
had been mate had gone home without him,
owing to his getting smallpox.
</p>
<p>
"I think we shall do," said Greig. "I wonder
what became of that old duffer Brogger? Well,
it's an ill wind that don't serve some skipper.
I'm a skipper at last, and with any luck I'll
stay so."
</p>
<p>
Early next morning, just as the <i>Enchantress</i>
was making ready to tow down the river, and
when the whole world was still dark save where
the dawn on the great peak of Mount Hood
showed a strange high gleam to the eastward,
Lant and Gulliver's chief runner came on board
and saw the mate.
</p>
<p>
"The man we agreed to put on board is sick,"
said the runner, "and as all our crowd here is
fixed up for, we've wired down to Astoria to
our other house to send you a good man in his
place."
</p>
<p>
"Right," said Plump, who was standing on
the fo'c'sle head—"right you are. Ay, ay, sir,
let go that head-line! Jump and haul—haul
it in, men!"
</p>
<p>
The men were cheerful; there was something
in the voice of a real man now on the
poop that bucked them up. And they knew
as well as Plump himself that he was happy
to have got rid of Brogger. The <i>Enchantress</i>
looked as if she was to be a happy ship on the
passage home.
</p>
<p>
"You seem a derned happy family," said
the runner to Jack Eales as he skipped ashore.
</p>
<p>
"So we are," said Jack. "But tell us what's
the name of the chap that'll come aboard at
Astoria."
</p>
<p>
"His name," said the runner—"his name—oh,
it's Bill Juggins!"
</p>
<p>
For he knew that Jack Eales knew more than
he 'let on.'
</p>
<p>
"The new man's name is Bill Juggins," he
told Corlett five minutes later, as they began
to move swiftly down the smooth dark waters
of the Willamette while the early lights of
the town still gleamed and the snowy peak of
Mount Hood was edged with roses in a rosy
dawn.
</p>
<p>
"'Is name is Juggins!"
</p>
<p>
He slapped his thigh and laughed. They
lay that night off Astoria, and before the
tow-line was again made fast to pull her out over
the great Columbia bar the new hand was put
aboard in the usual condition of alcoholic coma
with not a little laudanum mixed with it. He
was stowed in a bunk in the fo'c'sle, where
he lay just as they threw him. But Jack and
Corlett were as nervous now as two greenhorns
on a royal yard.
</p>
<p>
"I'm all of a bally twitter, I am," said Jack
Eales. "D'ye know, Corlett, I ain't sure we
ain't done after all. I don't believe I ever see
this joker before. Brogger 'ad a beard."
</p>
<p>
"And Lant and Gulliver 'ad a razor," said
Corlett.
</p>
<p>
"Brogger was pippy and pasty and white
as—oh—as white," urged Eales, "and this
josser is as black as a mulatter."
</p>
<p>
"Walnuts grow in Oregon," said the wise
Corlett. "D'ye think we might let the crowd
into the racket?"
</p>
<p>
"No, no, man," said Jack, "don't let nobody
know as we 'ad 'alf an 'and in it. The cove's
name may be Juggins, but we'll be jugged."
</p>
<p>
They were well out to sea, and the tug was a
blotch of smoke to windward, before Bill Juggins,
A.B., showed the faintest sign of life. And
even then they only heard him grunt as he
turned over uneasily and went off on another
cruise in the deep seas of sleep.
</p>
<p>
"If he works like he sleeps," said the crowd
in the second dog-watch, "he'll be a harder
grafter than Smith that skipped. It's a wonder
the second ain't been in after him."
</p>
<p>
But the new skipper and Plump and Dodman
hit it off so completely that they sat together
on the poop and told each other all about
everything in the happiest way. For Greig, though
he was a hard enough man in his way, had the
gift of creating good humour along with respect.
</p>
<p>
"It's a wonder what became of my lamented
predecessor," said Greig.
</p>
<p>
"He's certainly dead, sir," said Plump.
</p>
<p>
"As dead as mutton," agreed Dodman.
</p>
<p>
"It would be a compliment to put the ship
in mourning, as he owned a share in her," said
Greig; "and I think I shall do it."
</p>
<p>
"There's enough blue paint on board, sir,"
said the second, "to put a fleet into mourning.
I don't know how it came here, for Captain
Brogger didn't care to be extra lavish with
stores."
</p>
<p>
It was Dodman's way of saying the deceased
skipper was as mean as his brothers.
</p>
<p>
"Very well," said Greig; "you can do it
as soon as you like, Mr. Plump. These are
customs which I hate to see die out. And
now I think I'll turn in."
</p>
<p>
As he went he added—
</p>
<p>
"I believe we shall get on very well together,
gentlemen."
</p>
<p>
Plump and Dodman said they were sure of
it, and when he had gone below they said—
</p>
<p>
"He's all right."
</p>
<p>
At midnight Plump went below too, and
Dodman walked the weather side of the poop in
a happier frame of mind than he had known
since he came on board the vessel in Liverpool.
The wind was fine and steady out of the east,
and the <i>Enchantress</i> slipped through the water
very sweetly.
</p>
<p>
"Damme," said poor Dodman, "I believe
I could sing."
</p>
<p>
He walked aft, looked at the compass, stared
over the taffrail at the wake, looked aloft to
see if the gaff topsail, which was an ill-cut and
ill-conditioned sail, was in decent shape, and
then whistled. Being right aft he did not see
a short, dark man come from the fo'c'sle and
stagger along the main-deck. But Bales and
Corlett saw him and left the rest of the
starboard watch, who were yarning quietly on
the spare topmast lashed under the rail.
</p>
<p>
"'E's come to," said Eales. "Holy sailor,
this is a game!"
</p>
<p>
Bill Juggins, A.B., laid hold of a belaying pin
in the fife rail of the main-mast, and swayed
to and fro like a wet swab in a cross sea.
</p>
<p>
"Where am I?" said Bill Juggins. "This
is a nightmare. I want to wake."
</p>
<p>
He held tight and pondered. But his brain reeled.
</p>
<p>
"I have no beard," said the new seaman;
"I'm clean shaved. My hair's that short I
can't catch hold of it. These ain't my clothes.
I can't stand straight. But if this ain't my
ship I'm mad."
</p>
<p>
"D'ye 'ear the pore devil?" asked Jack.
</p>
<p>
"I 'ears," said Corlett. "If 'e 'adn't told
me I was a soldier I should say it was pafettick
to 'ear 'im."
</p>
<p>
"This is a barque," said poor Juggins, "and so's
the <i>Enchantress</i>. But she's at sea, and yesterday
she was in Portland not ready to go for three
days. This is a dream, it's an awful, awful
dream. I'll wake up, I will, I will!"
</p>
<p>
He hung on the pin desperately, and as he
stood there Dodman walked for'ard to the break
of the poop. He whistled lightly.
</p>
<p>
"Dodman used to whistle," said the man
in a nightmare. "I used to tell him I wouldn't
have it. I said it was a street-boy's habit. I
shall wake presently, oh yes."
</p>
<p>
"Who's that jabbering on the main-deck?"
asked Dodman.
</p>
<p>
"It's me," said the jabberer weakly, as a
cloud of laudanum floated over his brain. "It's
me, and I don't know who I am."
</p>
<p>
But Dodman jumped as if he had been shot.
This was a voice from the grave; there seemed no
mistaking Brogger's wretched pipe. But before the
second mate could speak Jack Eales intervened.
</p>
<p>
"'Tis the new 'and wot come aboard at Astoria,
sir. 'Is name is Bill Juggins."
</p>
<p>
The man from Astoria wavered doubtfully
and looked up at the poop.
</p>
<p>
"I know that voice," he murmured. "That's
Dodman."
</p>
<p>
"The pore chap's very drunk yet, sir," said
Eales.
</p>
<p>
"Take him away for'ard," said Dodman,
with a gasp.
</p>
<p>
"My name—my name's Brogger!" piped
the man from Astoria.
</p>
<p>
"It's Juggins—Bill Juggins!" said Eales
firmly, as he took him by the arm. "Brogger's
dead, Juggins. 'E's dead and buried. Lant's
liquor 'as been too much for you."
</p>
<p>
And Juggins burst into tears.
</p>
<p>
"I <i>thought</i> I was Brogger," he said feebly.
"But poor Brogger had a beard."
</p>
<p>
"So 'e 'ad," said Eales; "and 'e was as white
as veal, and you're a fine, 'ealthy, dark colour.
Come back and doss it out, my son. The pafettick
story of the pore chap's death 'as been too
much for you."
</p>
<p>
He and Corlett led the man for'ard and put
him in his bunk, where he wept copiously.
</p>
<p>
"What are you so sad about?" asked Corlett.
"You're no better than a soldier!"
</p>
<p>
The whole watch crowded in after them.
</p>
<p>
"What's wrong?" they asked.
</p>
<p>
"The chap that's tanked up says 'e's Brogger,"
said Eales.
</p>
<p>
The whole watch laughed so that the port
watch woke up and cursed them with unanimous
blasphemy.
</p>
<p>
"But this josser says 'e's Brogger!" urged
the starboard watch in extenuation of their gross
infraction of fo'c'sle law.
</p>
<p>
"Then 'e's no seaman," said the sulky port
watch, "for Brogger 'ardly knew 'B' from a
bull's foot as a sailorman. Dry up, and let us
go to sleep!"
</p>
<p>
But Brogger kept on saying he was Brogger,
till Pizzey, the biggest seaman in the port watch,
threatened to bash him if he wasn't quiet.
</p>
<p>
"But—but I know you all," said Brogger.
"If I wasn't me, how should I?"
</p>
<p>
"More knows Tom Fool than Tom Fool
knows," said Pizzey. And he used such horrible
threats that the skipper was quailed and became
quiet, and at last fell asleep.
</p>
<p>
And in the meantime Dodman went down
below and woke up Plump, who was in his first
sleep.
</p>
<p>
"What's wrong?" asked Plump, as soon
as he found that he was being waked three
hours before his time. "You're as white as
putty, Dodman."
</p>
<p>
Dodman shook his head and could hardly
speak. When he did speak, Plump fell back upon
his pillow and gasped.
</p>
<p>
"Brogger ain't dead," said Dodman. "Mr. Plump,
Brogger's on board."
</p>
<p>
"You're mad!" cried Plump.
</p>
<p>
"I wish I was," said Dodman. "This is
a Portland plant—this is a coast game. They
shaved him and browned him and drugged him,
and he came aboard at Astoria as a foremast
hand!"
</p>
<p>
There was a deep silence for at least five
minutes, and then Plump said, almost with a
wail—
</p>
<p>
"This is most disappointing!"
</p>
<p>
There was a strange look in Dodman's face;
it was so strange that Plump sat up and looked
at him.
</p>
<p>
"Between you and me, sir," said Dodman,
"he used to make both of us uncomfortable."
</p>
<p>
"He did," said Plump.
</p>
<p>
"And he was no seaman."
</p>
<p>
"He wasn't fit to sail a paper-boat in a bath,"
said Plump.
</p>
<p>
"Then he's dead," said Dodman with a strange
wink. And Plump's face lighted up slowly.
</p>
<p>
"He's still dead," said Plump. "And if the
owners don't like it they can lump it. And,
what's more, I don't believe our new skipper
would stand aside now for any man that ever
breathed."
</p>
<p>
"If he does he's not the man I take him for,"
said the second mate. "I shall get up that
blue paint in the forenoon watch, sir."
</p>
<p>
"Get it up," said Plump. And in ten minutes
he fell fast asleep again. For it takes more
than a little to rob a seaman of his slumber.
But at four bells in the morning watch he had
to communicate the news to the new skipper,
who was an early bird. He broke the news
warily, for he dreaded lest the 'old man'
should do something in a hurry which he and
others might repent of afterwards.
</p>
<p>
"It would be a mighty strange thing, sir,
if Captain Brogger wasn't dead after all," he
remarked just a trifle nervously after Greig had
walked the deck once or twice.
</p>
<p>
"He might rise up now and find his ship
missing," said Greig with a chuckle. "After
all, that's only what I did, Mr. Plump. I was
crazy, luny, dotty, and raving with fever before
I was taken out of the <i>Winchelsea</i>, and when I
came to she was days at sea."
</p>
<p>
He marched up and down again.
</p>
<p>
"And a dashed good man got my billet," he
said, "and now I don't envy it him. It was a
bit of luck my getting this, Mr. Plump, though
in a way I own I'm sorry that you couldn't have
it. I know that's tough."
</p>
<p>
Plump sighed.
</p>
<p>
"I'd ha' had my ticket, sir, but for a fluke
that a youngster going up for second mate might
have been ashamed of. A plus for a minus, and
I was minus. You wouldn't like to step down
for Captain Brogger now, sir?"
</p>
<p>
"Minus Brogger is plus me," said Greig.
"I'd not step down to loo'ard for all the Brogger
family up from the tomb."
</p>
<p>
"No more would I, sir," said Plump.
"But——"
</p>
<p>
"But what?" asked the 'old man.'
</p>
<p>
And Plump gasped a bit.
</p>
<p>
"Last night, sir——"
</p>
<p>
Greig stared at him curiously.
</p>
<p>
"Don't hang in the wind like that!" he said
sharply. "What is it?"
</p>
<p>
Plump burst out with what it was, and told
Greig in a fine flow of words what the second
mate had said.
</p>
<p>
"By crimes!" said Greig. "By all that's holy!"
</p>
<p>
He walked the deck for a minute, and then
came back and stood close to his mate.
</p>
<p>
"Have you seen this man?"
</p>
<p>
"No, sir."
</p>
<p>
"Did Mr. Dodman believe him?"
</p>
<p>
"Dodman isn't a fool, sir. No doubt it
seemed to him that the man had heard the
tale of the captain's disappearance, and, having
been on the drink, he took it into his head that
he is Brogger."
</p>
<p>
Greig turned his back to the mate and stared
to windward.
</p>
<p>
"It's delirium tremens, of course," he said.
"That's plain. I'll see him after breakfast,
unless he's sober and comes to his senses."
</p>
<p>
He went below.
</p>
<p>
"Crawl down now, and for a ghost!" said
Greig. "If I do I'll be damned!"
</p>
<p>
And just then Brogger was sitting up in his
bunk, chewing his fingers and trying to
reconstruct the lost days. He had elusive visions
of strange interviews, he tasted strange drinks,
his head ached with horrid drugs, he recalled
strange snatches of talk by strangers. And
out of the phantasmagoria of his jumbled vision
there came sometimes the powerful and brutal
face of Lant, of the firm of Lant and Gulliver.
</p>
<p>
"Someone hit me!" he said aloud. And
Jack Eales, who was wide awake, heard him.
</p>
<p>
"Where am I? I'm in a dirty fo'c'sle!"
</p>
<p>
He seemed to remember vaguely that he had
been out on deck in the night. He looked up
and saw Eales' face dimly.
</p>
<p>
"What ship's this?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
"It ain't a ship," said Eales; "this is hell!"
</p>
<p>
Brogger shook his head dismally.
</p>
<p>
"It ain't—you're jokin' with me! What
am I doin' here? Is this my ship?"
</p>
<p>
"You was shipped in her," said Eales. "You
came aboard in Astoria. Your name's Juggins."
</p>
<p>
"I'm Brogger—Captain William Brogger!"
said Brogger.
</p>
<p>
"Hush, hush!" said Eales. "Don't say
it. All the men 'ere 'as sworn to 'ave Brogger's
life if 'e's alive. They say Brogger was mean,
and made them un'appy. 'E called good sailormen
sojers; 'e give 'em bad grub; 'e wouldn't
'ave no clothes dried in the galley off the 'Orn;
'e never gave 'em no forenoon watch in. In the
dirtiest weather he 'ad 'em makin' sennit between
shortenin' and makin' sail. 'E wasn't no sailor,
they says, to add to it all. And it's a sayin' 'ere
that Brogger saved 'is life by bein' killed, same
as the pig did 'is by dyin'. For Gawd's sake
don't say you're Brogger, or there'll be blood
knee-deep—if there's blood in Brogger!"
</p>
<p>
"I'll—I'll go aft," said Brogger tremulously.
</p>
<p>
"Don't you do it!" said Eales. "There's
a new skipper on board; 'e's as fierce and 'ard
as if 'e was a bucko tough out of a Western
Ocean packet of the old days. 'E won't stand
taffy, nor any sort of guff; but 'e'll jump on
your stummick quick."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, what shall I do?" moaned Brogger.
"Why, I know you! You're Eales!"
</p>
<p>
"And you're Juggins!" said Eales fiercely.
And just then in came one of the port watch and
banged a tin can.
</p>
<p>
"Starbowlines, ahoy! Turn out, you sleepers!"
he roared. "Turn out, turn out, my bully boys!"
</p>
<p>
The starboard watch yawned and groaned
and grunted, and showed unwilling legs, and
at last crawled out upon their chests as the
boys brought the tea and grub in.
</p>
<p>
"Holy Moses!" said big Pizzey; "don't I
remember that there was one of the starboard
watch that allowed he was Brogger?"
</p>
<p>
"This is 'im," said Corlett, pointing. And
the whole crowd roared.
</p>
<p>
"'E's no more like old beast Brogger than
I'm like the mate," said Pizzey contemptuously.
For Plump was a nice-looking man, and Pizzey
had a face like a bruised apple. "Where's
your beard, Brogger?"
</p>
<p>
"It's—it's shaved," said Brogger.
</p>
<p>
"And where did you get them brown 'ands
and that ma'og'ny face? Brogger was as white
as muck," said Bush. "And, besides, 'e's dead,
and there's no more in it than that."
</p>
<p>
"I'm goin' aft," said Brogger. "There's a
dreadful mistake somewhere."
</p>
<p>
But Corlett caught him by the tail of his jacket
and sat him down on a chest suddenly.
</p>
<p>
"Less talk and more work, shipmate. Eat
your breakfast."
</p>
<p>
He helped the poor devil to a pannikin of tea
and to a tin plate full of bad bacon.
</p>
<p>
"This tea's beastly," he declared.
</p>
<p>
"Brogger's notion of wot's fit for sailors," said
Corlett. "Drink 'is 'ealth in it."
</p>
<p>
And Brogger drank. The hot infusion of the
Lord knows what did him good. The fumes
of fusel oil and the clouds of laudanum rolled
away from him.
</p>
<p>
"I know 'em all," he said—"I know 'em,
every one. This is my ship; this is the
<i>Enchantress</i>. If it isn't, I'm mad!"
</p>
<p>
He rose up suddenly and made a bolt for the
door, and ran aft. As his evil luck would have
it, the very first person he ran against was the
new skipper, who looked at him very fiercely.
</p>
<p>
"Where the devil are you running to?" asked
Greig, giving him a push in the chest that sent
him reeling.
</p>
<p>
"I'm Captain Brogger," said Brogger with
the most lamentably weak air of dignity. It
sat on him like a frock-coat on a gorilla.
</p>
<p>
"The devil you are?" said Greig. "So you're
still drunk. Go for'ard, or I'll cure you so quick!"
</p>
<p>
But just then Plump came for'ard to the
break of the poop.
</p>
<p>
"Mr. Plump, Mr. Plump," cried Brogger.
It has to be owned that the mate started just
a trifle at the sound of his voice. "Mr. Plump,
I'm Captain Brogger, and who's this?"
</p>
<p>
"Stop," said Greig, "stop right here. Mr. Plump,
do you recognise this man?"
</p>
<p>
It was impossible to recognise him by anything
but his voice, and Plump truly denied that
he saw the least resemblance to the dead skipper.
</p>
<p>
"Call Mr. Dodman," said Greig. And Dodman
said he couldn't see the faintest likeness.
</p>
<p>
"Then how do I know you all?" asked Brogger.
</p>
<p>
"It's my belief you sailed with us three
voyages back," said Dodman. "I seem to
have seen you somewhere."
</p>
<p>
"That will do," said Greig; "go for'ard and
behave yourself, or you'll find out, whether you're
Brogger or Juggins, or the Lord Muck from
Bog Island, that I'm captain here. Bo'son!"
</p>
<p>
The bo'son came from the galley, where he
was taking in the situation with the cook.
</p>
<p>
"Set this man to work," said Greig, "and
keep your eye on him."
</p>
<p>
And Brogger went for'ard like a lamb.
</p>
<p>
"It's cruel! it's cruel!" said Brogger. But
in less than two shakes of a lamb's tail he found
himself getting paint out of the bo'son's locker
in company with Corlett and Jack Eales.
</p>
<p>
"What you've got to do, sonny," said Jack,
who had half a mind to be sorry for him, "is
to do your duty and do it smart and quick.
Just now you're off-colour, so to speak, in spite
of that 'ealthy complexion of yours, and you
don't feel well. Exercise will do you good.
We'll have you on a topsail-yard yet singin'
out: ''Aul out to loo'ard' with the best." He
turned to Corlett.
</p>
<p>
"What's all this bally paint for, Corlett?"
he asked.
</p>
<p>
"Blamed if I know," said his mate.
</p>
<p>
But the other men were rigging up stages
and getting them over the side, while the bo'son
mixed the paint. It was blue, and Corlett
stared hard at Eales.
</p>
<p>
"Well, I'm d-dashed," said Eales; "this is
the queerest start!"
</p>
<p>
He watched the bo'son go up to the new
hand and take him carefully by the collar.
</p>
<p>
"'Ere, you sculpin, take this pot and this
brush and get down on this stage——"
</p>
<p>
"What for?" asked Brogger. "I'm—I'm——"
</p>
<p>
"Oh, no, you ain't," said the bo'son quickly,—"you
ain't 'im by a long sight."
</p>
<p>
"It's blue paint," said Brogger weakly.
"It's blue."
</p>
<p>
"Very blue," replied the bo'son drily. "And
all that's white you'll paint blue."
</p>
<p>
He half-lifted Brogger on the rail, and watched
him clamber down upon the stage. A strange,
quiet ripple of laughter ran along the men at
work.
</p>
<p>
"I—I don't understand," said Brogger to
Eales, who was sitting on the stage with him.
</p>
<p>
"It's a good sea compliment to them that's
gone," said Eales. "Paint, you beggar, paint."
</p>
<p>
The bo'son put his head over the rail.
</p>
<p>
"If you don't get to work, Juggins, I'll have
to come down there and talk with you."
</p>
<p>
And the man who was spoken to knew of
old what a terror the bo'son could be if he liked.
He shivered and dipped his brush in paint. After
he had made a few feeble strokes, the bo'son's head
disappeared, and Brogger whispered to Eales—
</p>
<p>
"Who's it for?"
</p>
<p>
"It's for poor old Brogger," said Eales.
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p><a id="chap03"></a></p>
<h3>
THE OVERCROWDED ICEBERG
</h3>
<p>
There was a deal of ice about, and it came
streaming south, in all kinds of shapes, right
into the track of ships. There were flat-topped
bergs and ice-fields, and there were all kinds
of pinnacled danger-traps which were obviously
ready to turn turtle and load up any unwary
steamer with more ice than she would ever
require to make cocktails with. That year
ice was reported in great quantities as far south
as latitude 40°, and there is every reason to
believe that there was more ice run into than
was ever reported by one unlucky liner and
five tramps which were posted at Lloyd's as
'Missing.' The Western Ocean is no-peace-at-any-price
body of water, and it tries those who
sail it as high as any sea in the world, but when
the Arctic turns itself loose and empties its
refrigerator into the ocean fairway it becomes
what seamen call 'a holy terror.' For ice
brings fog, and fog is the real sea-devil, worse
than any wind that blows. It was a remarkable
thing in such circumstances that Captain Harry
Sharpness Spink of Glo'ster preserved his
equanimity. As Ward, the mate of the <i>Swan of
Avon</i>, said, he wasn't likely to preserve the <i>Swan</i>.
</p>
<p>
"Dry up, Ward," said his commanding
officer, "be so good as to dry up. When I
require your advice to run the <i>Swan</i> I'll let
you know, but in the meantime any uncalled-for
jaw on that or any other subject will make
me very cross."
</p>
<p>
"Do you think you can lick me since you
went to see that swab at the Foreign Office?"
asked Ward, as he edged towards Spink. "Don't
you savvy, Spink, that I'm just as able as I
was before to pick you up and sling you off of
this bridge on to the main-deck?"
</p>
<p>
"That's as may be," said Spink, "and I
don't deny by any means that you are a truculent
and insubordinate beast. That's why I shipped
you. But it don't follow by no means that
because my unfortunate disposition compels
me to have officers that can lick me, that I
should let 'em navigate the <i>Swan</i> on the high
lonesome principle. As I said before, you will
be so good as to shut your head. Ice or no
ice, I'm going at my speed, not yours. Do
you think you are out yachting that I should
look after your precious carcase?"
</p>
<p>
"I believe you are ready to cast her away,"
said Ward. "Are the bally owners going shares
with you?"
</p>
<p>
Spink shook his bullet head.
</p>
<p>
"They ain't, and you know it, Ward. There
are men would take such an insinuation as an
insult, and if I could lick you perhaps I would.
But you know as well as I do that if I wanted
to cast her away I'd not do it here. There's
no kind of fun that I so despise as open boats
in cold weather, and the Western Ocean in
ice-time isn't my market for a regatta. I ain't
called on to explain to a subordinate my idea
in running full speed through this fog and ice,
but out of more regard for your feelings than
you ever show for mine I don't mind revealing
to you that I'm trusting to my luck."
</p>
<p>
"Your luck!"
</p>
<p>
"Yes, my luck," replied Spink with great
firmness; "for luck I have and no fatal error.
I've been thinking of it a lot this trip, and come
to the conclusion that I've more solid luck than
any man I know intimate. To say nothing
of my commanding a rust and putty kerosine
can like this old tramp at the age of thirty,
when you, that can lick me in a scrap, have to
be my mate though you're older, didn't I come
out of that little affair at Aguilas with flying
colours?"
</p>
<p>
"You came out with a hole in the funnel
that you had to pay for yourself," said Ward.
"I don't see where your luck came in."
</p>
<p>
"Don't you see it might have been worse,
you ass?" cried Spink irritably. "But that's
nothing. What I've been pondering over chiefly
is my very remarkable luck in never having
been caught, for a permanency, by any of the
ladies that have been after me."
</p>
<p>
"They haven't lost much," said Ward
discourteously. "And I reckon that you are mistook
when you think you're that enticing that women
hankers to drag you in by the hair of your
head and kiss you by force."
</p>
<p>
"I never said so," replied Spink; "but the
fact remains that I'm not married."
</p>
<p>
"You're a selfish beast, Spink, and I
sincerely hope you'll be married before you're
through," said Ward.
</p>
<p>
"You are the most insolent mate I ever
had," replied Spink, "and the most unfeeling.
Did you hear a fog-horn?"
</p>
<p>
Though it was in the middle of the forenoon
watch it was pretty nearly as dark off the Banks
as it would have been inside a dock warehouse,
for the fog was as thick as a blanket. The
rail and the decks were slimy with it, and the
skipper and his mate were as wet as if it had
been raining. The fog came swirling in thick
wreaths, and sometimes half choked them. The
wind from the north-east was light but very
cold, as if it blew off the face of an iceberg,
as it probably did. The <i>Swan</i> had an air of
thorough discomfort, and in spite of it was
steaming into the west at her best speed of
nine knots an hour.
</p>
<p>
It is no wonder that Spink and Ward
quarrelled; there was hardly a soul on board who
was not in a bad temper. Nothing disturbs
seamen as much as fog, and the fact that Spink
refused to be disturbed by it made it all the
worse for the others. Ward was distinctly
nervous, and let the fog play on his nerves. He
saw steamers ahead that had no existence,
and heard fog-horns that were nothing but the
sound of his own blood in his ears.
</p>
<p>
"Yes, I do hear a fog-horn. It's on the
starboard bow," he said anxiously.
</p>
<p>
"Not a bit of it, Ward, it's on the port bow.
It's some darned old wind-jammer. I'll give
her a friendly hoot."
</p>
<p>
He made the whistle give a melancholy wail,
which was not answered by the ship for which
it was intended, but by a gigantic liner which
burst through the fog looking like high land,
and booming at the rate of at least twenty
knots. She loomed over them in the obscurity,
and Ward gave an involuntary howl which
fetched the <i>Swan's</i> crowd out on deck in time
to see that there was no need to kick their boots
off and swim for it. They were also in time
to answer the insulting remarks of the liner's
two officers on the bridge, as she scraped past
them with about the length of a handspike to
spare.
</p>
<p>
"You miserable, condemned tramp," said
the liner as she swept by.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, you man-drowning dogs," replied the
crowd of the <i>Swan</i>.
</p>
<p>
And everything else that was said never
reached its mark. The liner was swallowed
up, and resumed her attempt to make a good
passage in spite of what she logged as 'hazy'
weather.
</p>
<p>
"What did I tell you about my luck?" asked
Spink coolly, and Ward very naturally had
nothing to say till he got his breath. What
he said then could only have been said to a
skipper who had so unfortunate a disposition
towards violence that he had to ship officers
who could lick him.
</p>
<p>
"You are a wonder," said Ward, "and I wish
you had been dead before I saw you. Ain't
you thinking of others' lives if you ain't of your
own?"
</p>
<p>
"What's the use of arguing with a thick-head
like you, Ward?" asked Spink. "If that
blamed express packet slowed down to our jog-trot
her skipper would feel as sick as if he had
anchored, and he'd log it 'dead slow,' and the
rotters that judge divorces and collisions would
call him the most praiseworthy swine that ever
ran another ship down. What's the logic of
it? Why should I daunder along at five knots?
I might be lingering just where I'd be caught
by such another or by a berg. I trust in
Providence and my luck, and if you don't like it
you can get out and walk."
</p>
<p>
At this moment a bellow was heard for'ard,
'Ice on the starboard bow,' and Spink, who
for all his talk had the eyes of a cat, motioned
to the man at the wheel to starboard the helm
a few spokes. The <i>Swan</i> ground past a small
berg, and had a narrower shave than with the
liner.
</p>
<p>
"If we'd been going a trifle slower, Ward,"
said the skipper, "I might have plugged that
lump plump in the middle, and you would have
been down on the main-deck seeing the boats
put over the side."
</p>
<p>
"There's no arguing with you," growled the
mate, "you'd sicken a hog, and I wish it was
Day's watch instead of mine. If he has the
same temper when he wakes that he went below
with, you'll have a dandy time with him."
</p>
<p>
He relapsed into a silence which Spink found
more trying than open insubordination, for
Spink was a cheerful soul.
</p>
<p>
"Here, I can't stand this, Ward——"
</p>
<p>
"What can't you stand?" asked Ward sulkily.
</p>
<p>
"Not being spoken to, of course," replied
the skipper. "I order you to be more cheerful.
I don't ask you to be polite, for I know you
can't be; but you can talk when you aren't
wanted to, so you just talk now."
</p>
<p>
"I won't unless you slow down," said Ward.
"I don't see why I should talk and be cheerful
with a sea-lunatic."
</p>
<p>
"Well," said Spink, "I'll slow her down to
half speed to please you, for the Lord knows
there's enough ice about without my having a
lump of it for a mate. Ring her down to half
speed, and be damned to you!"
</p>
<p>
Ward rang her to half speed without any
second order.
</p>
<p>
"And I sincerely hope I shan't regret bein'
weak enough to give way," said Spink, "for
I'm a deal too easy-going and reasonable."
</p>
<p>
He lighted his pipe and smoked steadily.
As both Ward and Day admitted, he might be
hard to get along with, but he had nerves which
would have done credit to a bull. Most skippers
in the Western Ocean get into the state of mind
which sees disaster before it is in sight, and if
they don't take to drink it is because they die
of continued scares. Spink feared nothing under
heaven, and though he sometimes drank more
than was good for him, it was not because he
wanted it, but because he liked it. There is
a great distinction between these two ways of
drinking. After a few minutes of silence he
turned to Ward.
</p>
<p>
"Do you feel easier in your mind, Ward?"
</p>
<p>
"I do," said Ward. "I own it freely."
</p>
<p>
Spink snorted.
</p>
<p>
"As sure as ice is ice when you get a command
of your own you'll take to drink," said Spink.
"And now, as you're satisfied at getting your
own way, I'll go below and have a snooze."
</p>
<p>
About six bells in the forenoon watch the
<i>Swan</i> ran out of 'Bank weather' into beautiful
sunlight, and Ward rang her up to full speed.
All about them were icebergs small and large,
which sparkled like jewels in the sun. There
was one long, low berg right ahead of them,
there was one to the south'ard which was peaked
and scarped and pinnacled into the semblance
of a mediaeval castle. Ward, as Spink said,
had no soul for beauty unless it wore petticoats,
and to him, as to all seamen, ice in any shape
was ugly.
</p>
<p>
"If he'd had his way she'd have come a
mucker on that beggar ahead," said Ward, as
he passed to windward of the big, table-topped
berg. "I wish we was out of it. This fine
spell won't last long, and there is more thick
weather ahead of us or I'm a Dago."
</p>
<p>
He gave her up to Day at noon with pleasure,
and took his grub alone as the skipper was fast
asleep. When he turned out again at four
o'clock he found the fog as thick as ever, and
Bill Day as cross as he could stick at having
to yank the whistle laniard every minute or
so. As soon as Ward showed his nose on the
bridge Bill let out at him.
</p>
<p>
"What kind of a relief do you call this?"
he demanded savagely. "I wish I'd had this
laniard round your neck, I'd have had you
out of your bunk in good time, I swear."
</p>
<p>
As a matter of fact, Ward was only three
minutes behind time, and always prided himself
on giving a good relief.
</p>
<p>
"Has Double Glo'ster been worrying you
that you're so sick?" he asked. "You know
damn well that you owe me hours. Oh, don't
talk, go below and die, as you always do when
you see blankets. Has there been much ice?"
</p>
<p>
"It's blinking all round the bally shop,"
returned the second mate. "Didn't you wake
when I stopped her dead?"
</p>
<p>
"No," said Ward.
</p>
<p>
"And you talk of my dying when I get below,"
retorted Day. He slid off the bridge, and
proceeded to justify the mate's accusation by
falling asleep before his head touched the pillow,
in spite of the melancholy hootings of the <i>Swan</i>
as she picked her way delicately in the fog and
ice. It was very nearly eight bells again before
Captain Harry Sharpness Spink of Glo'ster
showed on deck. As he meant to stay on deck
all night he had really been very moderate.
</p>
<p>
"So I've missed Newcastle?" he said.
</p>
<p>
"Lucky for you," returned Ward; "his
temper was horrid."
</p>
<p>
Spink sighed.
</p>
<p>
"I'm the most unfortunate man that ever
commanded any blasted hooker that ever sailed
the seas," he said. "Day tries me more than
you do, Ward. There are times I regret I ever
knew him. I must have been brought up badly
to have such a disposition as I have. Well,
well, it can't be helped, a man is what he was
meant to be, there is no get-away from that.
But I should admire to see you plug him. Oh,
I say, it's fairly thick, ain't it?"
</p>
<p>
It was a deal thicker than much of the
pea-soup served up in the <i>Swan</i>, though Spink
rather prided himself on the way the men were
fed in her.
</p>
<p>
"Are you nervous?" asked Spink.
</p>
<p>
"I ain't by any means happy," said Ward;
"and no seaman worthy of the name can be
happy on the Banks in weather like this."
</p>
<p>
"That's a slur on me, I know," said Spink,
"but I look over it."
</p>
<p>
"What would you do if you didn't?" asked
Ward.
</p>
<p>
Spink did not reply to this challenge, and
inside of a minute both he and Ward had
something to think of besides quarrelling about
nothing. The fog lifted for a moment, and
showed ice all about them. The air grew
bitterly cold, and was soon close on the freezing
point, Spink slowed her down again, and
almost literally felt his way through the
obstacles. Once he touched a small berg, but
when he did so he was going dead slow. Ward
stood by and saw the 'old man' handle the
<i>Swan</i> with admiration. When they were once
more through the thick of it he spoke.
</p>
<p>
"I wish I could understand you, Spink," he
said, with far more respect than he often showed.
"You're the most reckless skipper I ever sailed
with, and now you're more careful than I should be."
</p>
<p>
"I don't trust in my luck till I can't see," said
Spink, and he turned her over to Ward, saying,
"Go your own pace, my son. It's most agreeable
when you are civil."
</p>
<p>
And next minute the catastrophe happened,
for at half speed the old <i>Swan</i> bunted her nose
into a low but very solid berg, and the result
was very much the same as if she had tried
conclusions head on with a dock wall. She
crumpled up like a bandbox when it is
inadvertently sat on, and it would have been obvious
to the least instructed observer that her chance
of going much farther was a very small one
indeed. She trembled and was jarred to her
vitals, her iron decks lifted up like a carpet
with the wind underneath it, one of the funnel
stays parted with a loud twang, and the crowd
forward came out on deck as if the devil was
behind them. And the fog was still so thick
that it was impossible to see them from the
bridge. But they soon saw Bill Day, for even
his ability to sleep through most things could
not stand being thrown out of his bunk.
</p>
<p>
"What's up now?" roared the second mate.
And the skipper showed at his very best.
</p>
<p>
"Ward would have her at half speed," said
Spink coolly, "and that gave the southerly
drift time to bring that blasted berg just where
it could do its work."
</p>
<p>
And poor Ward hadn't a word to say. Spink
had plenty. He spoke to the crew below.
</p>
<p>
"Keep quiet there you," he snapped, without
the least sign of a disturbed mind. And up
came the chief engineer, M'Pherson, in pyjamas
and a blue funk.
</p>
<p>
"What's happened, captain? Oh, what's gone
wrang the noo?" he cried.
</p>
<p>
"She's hit more than a penn'orth of ice,
Mr. M'Pherson," replied the skipper, "and if I
were you I'd get my clothes on. Tell me what
water she is making, and look slippy. Mr. Ward,
see to the boats. Mr. Day, take the steward and a
couple of hands and get some stores up on deck."
</p>
<p>
He was so cool that he inspired unlimited
confidence, although it was now obvious to them all
that the <i>Swan's</i> very minutes were numbered. It
did not require old Mac's report that the water
was coming on board like a millstream to show
them that. The engineers and firemen came
on deck, and Spink addressed them in what he
considered suitable and encouraging terms.
</p>
<p>
"Now then, you stokehold scum, less jaw
there, you won't get drowned this trip."
</p>
<p>
They were exceedingly glad to hear it, for
a lot of them were of a different opinion and
said so. There was no time to waste, and
indeed none was lost. The real trouble began
when it was found that one boat wouldn't swim,
after the manner and custom of boats in the
Mercantile Marine, and when another was staved
in by a swinging lump of ice the moment it took
the water. This lump was a small 'calf' of
the larger berg which they had struck on, and
the next moment the original obstacle swung
alongside and ground heavily against the steamer.
</p>
<p>
"There ain't enough boats," said the skipper.
"Mr. Ward, d'ye think you could hook on to
that berg? We'll have to board it and make
out as best we can."
</p>
<p>
As the <i>Swan</i> was a vessel of close on fourteen
hundred tons, her kedge anchor ought to have
weighed something like four and a half hundredweight.
As a matter of fact it had once belonged
to something in the shape of a tug, and it weighed
barely two. Ward picked it up as if it was a
toy and hove it on the berg, and followed it with
a warp.
</p>
<p>
"Bully for you," said the skipper, and as
he spoke the <i>Swan</i> gave forth a noise very much
like a hiccup. "Down on the ice the port
watch, and the others get the stores over the
side. Steward, all the blankets you can get.
Mr. Day, put over the side anything to make
a raft of; we may want one if the berg melts."
</p>
<p>
Spars and hencoops and everything that
would float went over the side, some of it on
the ice and some of it into the water. A couple
of hands in the only sound boat kept her clear
of the berg and the <i>Swan</i>, and shoved the
floating dunnage to those on the new vessel, which
had promptly been christened 'The Sailors'
Home.' Their late home was about to disappear,
and said so in terms that were quite
unmistakable by the initiated.
</p>
<p>
"Now then," said Spink, "when the rest
of you are over the side I'm ready. Ward,
take the chronometer as I lower it down. And
be careful with this bag, there's the ship's papers
and my sextant in it."
</p>
<p>
"Now boom her off," said Spink, "for the
<i>Swan's</i> going."
</p>
<p>
There was a tremendous crack on board.
</p>
<p>
"The fore bulkhead," said Spink, and then
the poor old <i>Swan</i> cocked her stern in the air.
A furious gush of steam came up from the
engine-room and all the stokehold ventilators,
until the sea came almost level with the after
hatch.
</p>
<p>
"She's going down head-foremost," said the
crew, "poor old <i>Swan</i>."
</p>
<p>
And then there was a mighty shivaree on
board. The whole of the cargo in No. 1 and
No. 2 holds fetched away, and evidently shot
right out at the bows. All this mixture of
cargo must have been followed by the engines
slipping from their beds, for instead of doing
a dive head-foremost, the <i>Swan's</i> stern, which
had been high in air, went under with a big
splash, and she lifted her ragged bows in the
fog before she went down with a long-drawn,
melancholy gurgle.
</p>
<p>
"She warn't such a bad old packet after all,"
said the sad crew. And for at least a minute
no one said another word. Then Ward spoke.
</p>
<p>
"Where the hell's your luck now, Spink?"
</p>
<p>
"What's become of your theory that half
speed in a fog is any better than going at it
at my rate?" asked Spink. "You haven't a
leg to stand on, and I don't propose to take
advice from you again. You've disappointed
me sadly! My luck is where it was, except
in the matter of my officers, and it's notorious
that I have no luck with them. We're out of
the <i>Swan</i> without a life lost, we've got heaps
of grub, plenty of blankets, and a fine
comfortable iceberg under us. There's many this
hour in the Western Ocean that might envy us,
and don't you make any error about that. I
come from Glo'ster, and my name is Captain
Harry Sharpness Spink, and drunk or sober
it's as good as havin' your life insured to sail
with me. Oh, I'm all right, and I propose to
plug the first man that growls, if he's as big as
the side of a house."
</p>
<p>
None of them was in trim to take up the
challenge, and Spink lighted his pipe.
</p>
<p>
"Three cheers for the captain," said the
crew; and they cheered him heartily, for which
he thanked them almost regally, though he
somewhat spoilt the effect of it afterwards by
telling them to go to hell out of that and pick
a place to camp in at a little distance.
</p>
<p>
"So far as I can see in this fog there's plenty
of room for everyone," said Spink, as the night
grew dark. That was where he was wrong, for
they soon discovered, by falling into the water
on the far side, that they were on no great ice
island, but had picked a very small berg indeed.
Spink consoled them by telling them that they
wouldn't be on it long, and they could hardly
help believing him as he seemed so certain of it.
</p>
<p>
"And after all," he said to Day and Ward,
"the old <i>Swan</i> was insured for more than she
was worth, and I shouldn't be surprised if the
owners were pleased with the catastrophe."
</p>
<p>
He wrapped himself in blankets and lay down.
In five minutes he was breathing like a child.
</p>
<p>
"I tell you," said the second mate, "the 'old
man' is a wonder, for all we have to treat him
like a kid. I say, Ward, let's be kind to him
to-morrow and say Glo'ster is just as good as
any other county."
</p>
<p>
"I don't mind," said Ward; "but if we do
he'll take advantage of it."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, let him," said Day. "He's a fair scorcher,
and if he gets too rowdy we can always put
him down. On my soul I'm gettin' to like
him. He's got the pluck of a bull-dog. Where's
old Mac?"
</p>
<p>
They found Mac sitting in a puddle of melting
ice-water, weeping about his family at Glasgow.
The second engineer, whose name was Calder,
was trying to console his chief by saying it
might have been worse.
</p>
<p>
"It canna be waur, man," said old Mac.
"What can be waur than bein' wreckit, and on
a wee sma' bit o' ice that's veesibly meltin' as
I sit on it? The cauld is strikin' through to
my very banes, and in the hurry I've had the
sair misfortune to come away wi'out the medicine
for my rheumatics. To-morrow I'll be i' a
knot wi' 'em, and nothing for it but cauld water,
which I couldna abide sin' I was a bairn. And
all my work on the engines wasted. I'm a
mournful man this hour."
</p>
<p>
He drank something out of a bottle. As he
had left his medicine behind it could not have
been that. It certainly did him no good, for
he wept all the more after taking it, and throwing
himself in Calder's arms he insisted that the
second engineer was his mother, and begged
her not to insist on his having a cold bath.
</p>
<p>
"He's a puir silly buddy," said Calder, "and
I've no great opeenion of him as an engineer,
though he's no' the fool he seems the noo."
</p>
<p>
And the night wore away while Mac wept
and Spink slept the sleep of the righteous, and
Ward and Day smoked in silence. As for the
crew, they lay huddled up together, and only
woke to swear at the new kind of 'doss.' On
the whole, everyone but the chief engineer was
not unhappy, and even he, by reason of the
attention he paid to the bottle which did not
contain medicine, fell fast asleep and snored
like a very appropriate fog-horn. The dawn
broke very early, at about three, and it found
most of the inhabitants of the berg still
unconscious. In the night the fog had lifted, and
the sea was almost as calm as a duck-pond.
What wind there was now blew from the west,
and was much warmer than it had been. Within
a mile there were two or three other small bergs,
but when Spink grunted and yawned and crawled
out of his blankets there was nothing else in
sight.
</p>
<p>
"Humph," said Spink, "this is a rummy go,
and if I didn't come from Glo'ster I should be
in a blue funk. I must keep up my spirits, and
show 'em what my luck's like. I've been in
worse fixes than this many a time, and after
all, with a good seaworthy berg underfoot, and
lashings of grub, I don't see why anyone should
growl. If anyone does I'll knock his head off.
Now, which of these jokers is the cook?"
</p>
<p>
He found the steward, and booted him gently
in the ribs. At least he said it was gently,
whatever the aggrieved steward thought of it.
</p>
<p>
"Now then, Cox," said the skipper, "turn
out and find me the cook,—he's one of this
pile of snorin' hogs,—and let's have some
breakfast."
</p>
<p>
By the time the grub was ready, Ward and
Day were 'on deck,' and the sun was beginning
to think of doing the same. The two mates
looked round the horizon and saw nothing to
comfort them. The only cheerful thing in sight
was the skipper, and for very shame the more
pessimistic Ward screwed up a smile.
</p>
<p>
"Not so bad, is it?" asked Spink.
</p>
<p>
"It might be worse, I own," replied the mate.
"What course are you steerin', Spink?"
</p>
<p>
"Straight for Glo'ster," replied Spink
cheerfully. "How did you chaps sleep?"
</p>
<p>
Ward said he hadn't slept at all, but Day
averred that he had dreamt he had been locked
in a refrigerator belonging to some cold-meat
steamer from Australia. And just then the
steward said that breakfast was ready. It consisted
of cold tinned beef, iced biscuit, and melted
berg. There were signs of a mutiny among
the crew at once.
</p>
<p>
"Say, cook, where's the cawfy?" they asked,
and they were only reduced to a proper sense
of the situation by a few strong remarks from
Captain Spink. The riot subsided before it
really began, and all the 'slop-built, greedy
sons of corby crows,' as Spink called them, sat
down meekly and ate what they were given.
And then the sun came up and warmed them,
and they soon began to feel well and happy.
But now the real trouble of the situation began to
develop. The heat of the summer sun when it
once got high enough to do some work began to
melt the berg. It was rather higher in the middle
than it was on the edges, and it was most amazingly
slippery. The water ran off it in streams,
and as it was barely big enough to start with, it
looked as if they would shortly be crowded.
</p>
<p>
"I never thought of this," said Spink. "I
tell you, Ward, she'll turn turtle before we know
where we are. We must put all the stores in
the boat, and have a man in her to keep her clear
if the berg capsizes."
</p>
<p>
"Your luck ain't what you let on," said
Ward gloomily; "the thing fair melts under
us, and we'll have to swim."
</p>
<p>
"To thunder with your croaking," said Spink.
"Oh, do dry up."
</p>
<p>
"I wish the berg would," said Ward, as he
superintended the shipment of the stores. When
it was done he put a cockney deck-hand into
her and made him shove off.
</p>
<p>
"Blimy," said Lim'us, "I'm likely to be the
on'y dry of the 'ole shoot."
</p>
<p>
The word 'shoot' soon threatened to become
highly appropriate, for about noon the berg
was distinctly cranky. However fast it melted
above, it was obviously melting much faster
down below, for they had apparently struck
a streak of comparatively warm water, and
when ice does go it goes fast. The 'crowd'
got very uneasy, and Spink got very cross as
he arranged them so as to trim his craft.
</p>
<p>
"Sit still, you swine," said Spink. "Do you
want to capsize us?"
</p>
<p>
"But we're so cold be'ind, sittin' still, sir,"
said one bolder than the rest.
</p>
<p>
"I'll warm you if I have to come over and
speak to you," said Spink, and he presently
undertook to do it. The moment he rose to
carry out his threat the iceberg wobbled in the
most dreadful manner, and so encouraged the
offender that he laughed.
</p>
<p>
"If you come to 'it me, captain, she'll go
over," he said with a malicious grin.
</p>
<p>
"So she will," said Ward, laying hold of the
skipper to prevent his moving. But Spink
was not to be baulked. He spoke to another
of the men sitting near the mutineer.
</p>
<p>
"Jackson, you come here while I go over
there and dress Billings down."
</p>
<p>
"Don't you go, Jackson, for if you do I'll
dress you down to a proper tune arterwards,"
said the insubordinate Billings, as he grabbed hold
of Jackson, who looked at the skipper appealingly.
</p>
<p>
"What am I to do, sir?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
"You're to obey orders," said Spink.
</p>
<p>
"Don't you forgit I'll plug you if you do,"
said Billings.
</p>
<p>
Poor Jackson was obviously in serious difficulties,
for Billings was the boss and bully of
the fo'c'sle. He could even lick any of the
firemen, and there were some very tough gentry
among that gang.
</p>
<p>
"If I don't come over to you, sir, what will
you do?" Jackson asked the skipper nervously.
</p>
<p>
"I'll come over to you, if we're in the drink
the next moment," replied Spink firmly.
"Don't any of you Johnnies think you can
best me. Are you coming or are you not?"
</p>
<p>
Jackson shook his shock head.
</p>
<p>
"This is very hard lines on a peaceable cove
like me," said Jackson; "but if I am to catch
toko, I'd much rather take it from Billings than
from you, sir."
</p>
<p>
And as he spoke, he smote Billings very
violently on the nose. Billings, who expected
nothing less, let a horrid bellow out of him and
promptly slipped on the ice. He fell, and slid
overboard with a howl, and the berg came near
to capsizing then and there.
</p>
<p>
"Well done, Jackson," said Spink approvingly,
as Billings disappeared in the sea, "very well done
indeed." And then Billings rose to the surface.
</p>
<p>
"Can you swim, Billings?" asked Spink
with an air of kindly curiosity. "Oh, yes, I see
you can, so keep on doing it till you feel a little
less mutinous."
</p>
<p>
It took Billings rather less than a minute
to become obedient, for though the sea was
warm enough to melt the berg it was by no
means so warm as a swimming bath, and he
presently howled for mercy and was dragged
upon the ice once more.
</p>
<p>
It was lucky for Billings that the sun by now
was really hot. He stripped off his clothes
and squeezed them as dry as he could, while
he threatened to kill Jackson as soon as he
could. His threats were interrupted by the
sound of a large crack, and presently there
were obvious signs that the berg was about
to capsize. Lim'us got quite excited as they
discussed the situation, and came in close, till
Ward ordered him to get farther away. As
he rowed off reluctantly he encouraged them
by yelling, "She's goin' over! May the Lord
look sideways at me if she ain't."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, oh!" said poor old Mac, "I'm a puir
meeserable sinner wi' a sore head and no medicine,
and I'll be wet in a crack, and I'll die wi'out a wee
drappie. Oh, oh, oh!"
</p>
<p>
And the berg stopped cracking but took on an
ugly cant. A big lump of ice broke off it down
below and came up to the surface with a leap.
</p>
<p>
"Steady, you swine," said Spink politely to
his unhappy crew; and Ward asked him where
his luck was. Whatever answer he was to
get he never knew, for with a curious heave
the berg started on a roll, and with a suddenness
which took them all with surprise she bucked
them into the Atlantic, together with what
materials they had for a raft. It was a lucky
thing for at least half of them that there had
been time to save such dunnage from the
<i>Swan</i>, for half the crowd, including M'Pherson
and Day, could not swim a stroke. Ward grabbed
Day and helped him to a spar, and Spink did
the same for old Mac. And in the meantime
Lim'us made everyone furious by squealing with
laughter in the boat. Billings threatened him
with death when he got hold of him, and Spink
had no mind or breath to rebuke the horrid
and bloodthirsty language with which the late
mutineer reinforced his threats.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, oh!" squealed old Mac when the skipper
laid hold of him; "oh, oh, I'm drooned, I'm
drooned! and I've the rheumatism bad in a' my
joints."
</p>
<p>
And Spink said he was the howling and illegitimate
descendant of three generations without
any character whatever, as he dragged him to
a floating oar alongside the capsized berg. Now
it was not so high out of water, and there was
far more space on it. For some time it would
be comparatively stable, and when Spink
scrambled on it the first of anyone he
congratulated himself on his never failing luck.
He helped the rest on board, and the whole
space was soon occupied by an unclad crowd
wringing the Atlantic out of their clothes, and
trying to get warm in the sun. It was quite
astonishing how cheerful everyone was, with
the single exception of that confirmed pessimist
the chief engineer. At their end of the berg
the men took to skylarking, and Billings actually
forgave Jackson.
</p>
<p>
"You done what I'd ha' done myself," said
Billings, "for I owns now I'd a'most as soon
take on that big brute Ward as 'ave the skipper
get about me. But when I give 'im that back-talk
I was that icy be'ind that I was like froze
Haustralian mutting, and as cross as if my old
woman 'ad been relatin' what 'er mother thought
of me. I furgives you, Jackson, I furgives you
this once. But don't you hever 'it me on the
smeller agin, or a penny peep-show won't be
in it for the sight you'll be."
</p>
<p>
It was considered by the crowd that Billings by
this act of nobility had shown himself a 'gent,' and
Billings swaggered greatly on the strength of it.
</p>
<p>
The crew, of course, did not think. They
were not paid to do so. All that was the officers'
business. It hardly occurred to them that the
ice on which they stood wasn't likely to last
for ever. In the warmth of the sun they forgot
the discomforts of the past night, and did not
think of the night to come. But Ward did,
and he was still very gloomy on the situation.
</p>
<p>
"Just as she spilt us," said Ward, "I was
askin' you your opinion of your luck. What
do you think of it now? Perhaps you'll use
that regal authority of a skipper to get us out
of the hole you've got us in."
</p>
<p>
If ever any skipper had the right to be justly
indignant, Spink thought he was that man.
</p>
<p>
"The hole I got you in! I like that, oh, I
do like that. Who was it, I ask, that pestered
me to go half speed, and almost wept till I said
'Have your own way, you cross-eyed swine'?"
</p>
<p>
"You never addressed them words to me,"
said Ward truculently, "or I'd have given you
what for, and well you know it."
</p>
<p>
Spink shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"I ain't sayin' that I used them very words,"
he urged, "all I mean is that that was what
I meant when I let you have your own silly
way, which has landed me and Day, to say
nothin' of the rest, on a penn'orth of ice in
mid-Atlantic, more or less."
</p>
<p>
"Don't bring me into the argument," said
Day. "You're a cunning sort of a chap, Spink,
but you needn't try to raise ructions between me
and Ward, for I won't have it. I know you, Spink."
</p>
<p>
"I'm a very unfortunate man," said poor
Spink, "for at this very moment I'd give three
months' pay to be able to lick the pair of you.
I did think after what the Chief Foreign Officer
said of my authority that I should be more
civilly treated by my officers, even if I have an
unfortunate disposition which compels me to
lick them if I can. I shipped you two because
I can't, but that ain't any reason for makin'
me miserable, or at anyrate more miserable
than bein' in the position of not bein' able to."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, all right," said Day, "go ahead and
moan. Nobody's stoppin' you, is he? Let him
alone, Ward. He's all right; and as for fightin',
I believe I could teach him to be too much for
myself in a month with the boxin' gloves."
</p>
<p>
"I wish you would," said Spink. "Oh, Day,
you've no notion how I should enjoy pastin' you."
</p>
<p>
He fell into contemplation of such a joy, and
did not speak till Ward clapped him on the back
and said he was a very good sort after all.
</p>
<p>
"And if it's any use to you, I own that my
havin' gone half speed that time may have
put us here. But sayin' so much don't mean
that I now approve of buttin' headlong into
an ice-pack at twenty knots an hour. But to
go back to what I was sayin' before you started
this row, where's your luck, Spink? To my
mind it don't look so healthy a breed of luck
as you let on, and it's my notion that old Mac
is of my opinion, to judge by the sad expression
of his countenance."
</p>
<p>
"To blazes with the old fool!" said Spink.
"Who cares what he thinks? My luck is where
it was, and I reckon to get out of this with
flyin' colours, and never a man short, and nothin'
against the certificates of any of us. I've noticed
all my life that I seem to be under the especial
care of Providence, and I don't believe Providence
will go back on me after plantin' me here all safe
and sound on an iceberg. Day, rake up that
cook, and give the cockney in the boat a hail.
We'll have some grub. I've a twist on me like
a machine-made hawser."
</p>
<p>
They went to dinner, and the sun did something
of the same sort. At anyrate it went out
of sight, and a thick fog came down on the
castaways.
</p>
<p>
"We 'opes no bloomin' packet 'll come and
run us pore blighters down," said the men as
they fell to work on the grub, "for accordin'
to the 'old man,' who is the cheerfulest bloke
in difficulties we ever struck, we're right in the
track of the ole shoot of 'em, and may be picked
up or scooted into the sea again any minute."
</p>
<p>
As a matter of fact, they were then on the
southern tail of the Bank, for when the <i>Swan</i>
bunted her nose into the berg, she was pretty
well at the locality on the Grand Bank where
the usual 'lane' to New York is left for the
lane to Halifax. The very watch before the
collision they had verified their position by
flying the 'blue pigeon,' as seamen call the
deep-sea lead, and ever since then they had
been floating in the Labrador current to the
south and east. To locate them exactly, they
were just about where the Great Circle Track
of steamers from the English Channel to the
Gulf of Mexico crosses the tail of the Bank.
There was every chance of something coming
along there, even if it was getting late enough
in the season for the big liners to take the route
to the south'ard for fear of the very ice which
had brought them to grief.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, yes," said the crowd, when they were
full up with food, "we're all right."
</p>
<p>
Nevertheless the fog did not cheer them up
to any great extent, and when it showed signs
of lasting all day they grew less happy.
</p>
<p>
"A hundred vessels might pass us in this,"
said Ward, who for all his bigness had much
less endurance than the skipper, and was now
hardly more cheerful than old Mac. "I wish
I was out of it."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, wish again," retorted Spink
contemptuously. "Do you know, Ward, that you
make me tired? What do you get by howlin'
and growlin'? I know this is goin' to come
out all right, and I won't be discouraged by any
silly jaw of a man that ought to know better.
Shut up."
</p>
<p>
And to Day's surprise Ward shut up. At
that very moment there came a bellow from
Billings, who had relieved Lim'us in the boat.
</p>
<p>
"Berg, ahoy!" roared Billings.
</p>
<p>
"Hallo!" replied the skipper. "What's the
matter now?"
</p>
<p>
"I 'ears a steamer, so help me Dick!" bellowed
Billings joyfully. "I 'ears 'er plain. Don't none
of you blokes 'ear 'er too?"
</p>
<p>
There was such a buzz among the crowd that
it would have been hard to hear a fog-horn, and
it was not until Spink had hit three, kicked
half a dozen, and used at least ten pounds worth
of bad language, according to 19 Geo. II. cap. 21,
that anything like silence was restored. Then
it was obvious that Billings had made no mistake.
The sea was fairly calm, the breeze from the west
was light, and any sound carried long and far.
</p>
<p>
"She's coming from the westward," said
Spink, as he consulted a toy compass on his
watch-chain.
</p>
<p>
"No," said Day, "she's bound west, or I'm
a Dutchman."
</p>
<p>
"Then you come from Amsterdam for a
certainty," said the 'old man' crossly. "Now,
men, shout all together when I say three. One,
two, three."
</p>
<p>
And just as the men yelled there was a hoot-too-oot
from the steamship, which for a moment
made them believe she had heard them. But
Spink knew better, and when there was another
hoot he grabbed Day by the arm.
</p>
<p>
"By Jemima," said Spink, "we're both
right, Day. There are two of 'em; that second
squeal never came out of the same whistle that
the first one did!"
</p>
<p>
Now the nature of fog is something that no
fellow can understand. Seamen must not think
they are a long way off if they hear a sound
faintly, or even if they do not hear it at all. That's
bad enough, but there is worse behind. They
are not to reckon they are near because they
hear it plainly, or that it isn't to be heard farther
away at some other spot if they cease to hear
it at all. And, furthermore, any notion that
a sound comes from any particular direction
is the biggest trap of the lot. Now the
uninitiated can understand that they do not
understand, and that seamen are in the same awkward
fix whenever a fog comes down to cheer them
on their weary way. The two steamers coming
out of nothingness and butting into it were
commanded by men who trusted to the evidence
of their senses, as if they were police magistrates
trusting to policemen. They hooted and bellowed
in the most wonderful manner, and said with
one short blast that they were directing their
course to starboard. And as neither knew where
the other was, or where he was himself, they
directed their courses with the most marvellous
precision to the exact spot on the tail of the
Grand Bank in the Western Ocean where they
could collide. And they did so with a most
horrid grinding crash, and with one long, last,
fearful and hopeless wail on their steam-whistles.
</p>
<p>
"Holy sailor," said the iceberg's crew, "this
time they've been and gone and done it!"
</p>
<p>
Ward asked Spink sickly if he had any remarks
to make about his luck. Spink hadn't, but
he had some remarks to make about Ward,
which in other circumstances would have led
to war. While he was relieving his overcharged
mind there was a horrid uproar coming out
of the fog, for both the steamships were blowing
off steam, and everyone on board of them appeared
to be running the entire show at the top of his
voice. And just as it was all at its extreme
point of interest the fog played one of its
commonest tricks, and with an anacoustic wall shut
off the whole dreadful play in one single moment.
</p>
<p>
The castaways turned to each other in alarm,
and Billings, who had nearly lost himself in the
fog, rowed in close.
</p>
<p>
"I think they've both foundered," said
Billings, and it certainly looked as if he were
right, in spite of what Spink said to him.
</p>
<p>
"I believe the josser is right," said Day; and
old Mac wept and said he was sure of it, and
that he had the rheumatics badly, and that he
was very cold. And to add to Spink's joy, once
more Ward asked if he still thought he was
under the especial protection of Providence.
Then for the first time Spink lost his temper
and went for Ward, and by dint of taking him
by surprise served him as Jackson had served
Billings.
</p>
<p>
"Take that, you swab," said the enraged
skipper. "I'll teach you to be so discouraging and
so blasphemous as to cast a slur on Providence."
</p>
<p>
And when Ward climbed upon the ice again
all he said was—
</p>
<p>
"All right, Spink, you wait till we're on
board that beastly packet you and Providence
have up your sleeves."
</p>
<p>
And everyone sat down and smoked, and
said how grieved they were for the poor
unfortunate beggars who had been drowned through
having no nice comfortable iceberg to take
refuge on. Then they had their supper and
went to sleep, leaving all their cares in the
faithful hands of poor Spink.
</p>
<p>
"Ah," he sighed, "my unfortunate disposition
cuts me off from all real sympathy.
I've no one to confide in at sea or ashore, and
as if bein' a ship-master wasn't solitary enough
I must plug Ward and make him hostile. I
wish I'd been brought up better and licked more
before I got into this fatal habit of fighting."
</p>
<p>
He couldn't go to sleep, and took to walking
as far as the narrow limits at his disposal would
allow him. When he found that he was in
for a restless night he told the man on the
lookout that he could turn in. Jackson, who
happened to be the look-out, lingered a little before
he did as he was told.
</p>
<p>
"Do you think, sir," he asked with some
trepidation at his daring to speak to the skipper,
"do you think, sir, that we shall ever get out
o' this?"
</p>
<p>
"Of course we shall," said Spink. "What do
you suppose I'm here for? Go to sleep, Jackson,
and mind your own business. You'll be all right."
</p>
<p>
And Jackson, who was a simple-minded
seaman of the real old sort, fell asleep feeling
that the 'old man' was to be relied on even on
an iceberg in the Western Ocean and in a fog as
thick as number one canvas.
</p>
<p>
For by now the fog was thick and no mistake.
As Spink walked the ice, and squelched with his
sea-boots in the melted puddles, he could hardly
see his hand before his face, and more than once
he nearly walked overboard. At midnight it
was even thicker, and he was obliged to give
up walking and come to an anchor on a tin of
corned beef, and though he was on watch it
has to be owned that he dozed for a few minutes,
just as Lim'us did in the boat which lay a little
way off the berg. When Spink woke he found
it just about as dark as their prospects. When
his eyes cleared, he sighed and looked about him,
with a mind which took some of its tone from the
fog and from the dull dead hour of two o'clock
in the morning.
</p>
<p>
"I wonder if my luck is out," he sighed,
and he stared solidly into the solidest darkness.
It was certainly monstrously dark in one direction.
He rubbed his eyes and grunted. Then he
lighted a match and looked at his little compass.
His mind went back to the lady in Bristol who
had given it to him.
</p>
<p>
"She was a very pretty piece," said Spink
thoughtfully. "But I'm damned if I can see
why it should be darkest towards the east."
</p>
<p>
He rose up and peered into the fog. Again
he rubbed his eyes, and then stood staring.
</p>
<p>
"Perhaps another berg," he said, "but——"
</p>
<p>
He stood as still as if his figure had been
turned into stone, and presently he looked to
the sleeping crowd, who were all as solid with
sleep as if they were dead, and nodded in the
strangest way.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, oh, if it is; if it only isn't a horrid
delusion," he murmured. He turned to the darkness
again and shook his fist at it and the fog. At
that very moment the fog rolled up like a curtain.
Right in front of Spink, and not farther than a
man could chuck a biscuit, there lay the strange
and almost monstrous apparition of a silent,
lightless, and derelict steamer!
</p>
<p>
"What did I say to Ward about Providence?"
asked Spink of the whole Atlantic Ocean. "Ward
cast a nasty and uncalled-for slur on its ways
when he said what he did. But now I've got
the bulge on him, and no fatal error about it."
</p>
<p>
He rubbed his hands together and smiled
very happily.
</p>
<p>
"There'll be fine pickings in this and no
mistake," he murmured. "Oh, this'll be
something like salvage. And I'll lay dollars to
cents that I can tell how it ever happened. Ah,
here comes the fog again!"
</p>
<p>
The fog dropped down in a thin veil, till the
dim and ghostly derelict looked still less
substantial than it had done. Then it heaved and
rolled in, and the deserted packet could be
seen no more. Spink sighed but was happy.
</p>
<p>
"I'll give Ward the biggest surprise he ever
had in his life," he said, as he turned to the boat
in which young Lim'us was doing a very solid
caulk. Spink kicked some ice into small lumps,
and at the third attempt he hit the sleeper on
the side of his head. Lim'us woke with a start,
and heard the captain's voice just in time to
prevent him threatening to eviscerate the swab
who was slinging things at him.
</p>
<p>
"Hold your infernal jaw," said Spink in a
savage whisper, "and pull in here quiet, or I'll
murder you."
</p>
<p>
Lim'us obeyed instantly, though he had
doubts as to whether it was wise to come within
arm's length of the skipper after having been
caught asleep.
</p>
<p>
"I warn't asleep, sir; stri'my blind if I
was," he began as he came up to the berg.
</p>
<p>
"Dry up and say nothin'," said Spink. "If
you wake anyone I'll see you don't sleep again
for a week. Hand up some of that truck and
get the stern sheets clear, I want to get in myself."
</p>
<p>
There was more than a chance of not finding
the derelict and of losing the iceberg, and Spink
knew it. Just as he was about to chance it he
remembered that he had a couple of balls of
strong twine in the bag into which he had dumped
all his belongings, including the precious ship's
papers, when he left the <i>Swan</i>. As he recalled
this lucky fact a heavenly smile overspread his
handsome features.
</p>
<p>
"It's a splendid notion," said Spink. "I feel
as proud of it as a dog with two tails! I wish
those chaps at the Foreign Office were here now;
they would enjoy it better than a play."
</p>
<p>
He stepped to his bag as lightly as a Polar
bear after a sleeping seal, and when he found
the twine he tied the end of it to Ward's leg.
</p>
<p>
"Ward at one end and Providence at the
other," said Spink with a grin. "Oh, won't
he be surprised!"
</p>
<p>
And the skipper went back to the boat, paying
out the twine as he went. He was chuckling
in the merriest way, and poor Lim'us, who was
cold, and very sick of the whole affair, thought
that the strain had been too much for him.
</p>
<p>
"'E's balmy on the crumpet, that's what's
the matter wiv 'im," said Lim'us as he obeyed
orders reluctantly, and pulled into the solid
fog with a mad and grinning skipper, who would
probably scupper him as soon as they were out
of earshot of the crew.
</p>
<p>
"I wish I was in Lim'us," said he. "I'd give
all my wyges to see Commercial Rowd agin."
</p>
<p>
And still Spink chuckled and paid out the
twine, until suddenly the boat ran into a still
deeper darkness.
</p>
<p>
"Easy, boy," said the skipper, with a strange
note of exultation in his voice. "Easy, we're
there now."
</p>
<p>
As he spoke the boat ground up against the side
of the derelict, and Lim'us turned about on the
thwart and touched the iron plates with his hand.
</p>
<p>
"If you let a yell out of you," said the captain,
"I'll cut your throat from ear to ear."
</p>
<p>
But indeed Lim'us was incapable of yelling.
All he could do was to gasp, and he did that as
effectively as if he was a bonito with the grains
in him. And the boat drifted towards the vessel's
bows, while Spink looked for the easiest way on board.
</p>
<p>
"They ran like rats," said Spink. "Oh, I know
the way they ran. They got on board the other
boat, and think this one is now surprisin' the
codfish."
</p>
<p>
They reached the bows at last, and came
round on the port side, and there Spink found
what he looked for. The vessel had been cut
down to within six inches of the water's edge
about forty feet aft from the bow.
</p>
<p>
"Just as I laid it out in my mind," said Spink.
"Catch hold you, while I get on board."
</p>
<p>
He dropped about ten fathoms of the twine
into the water, and with the rest of the ball in
his pocket he scrambled up the horrid gash in
the derelict's side and got on deck. He walked
for'ard and got the twine clear out on the
starboard side, pointing for the unconscious mate.
Then he made it fast and took a look at his new
command. In spite of the fog it was not difficult
to see that she was a fine new boat of about two
thousand tons, built and fitted, as was pretty
obvious from her derricks, for a fast freight boat.
It was equally obvious that the whole crew
had evacuated her in a panic, for Spink found
the skipper's berth with the bed-clothes on the
floor, along with a sad and derelict pair of trousers.
The 'old man' had evidently been in his bunk
instead of being on the bridge, and, so far as
Spink could see, he had stayed to grab nothing
but the ship's papers, without which there can
be no maritime salvation.
</p>
<p>
"This will be a very valuable salvage job,"
said Spink, as he licked his lips after taking a
pull at a bottle of whisky which he found only
too handy to the lips of the former skipper.
"There's money in this, oh, lots of it. And
now I'll show Ward where my luck comes in.
And I'll have old Mac and Calder patch up that
rent in her before it comes on to blow again."
</p>
<p>
He put the bottle in his pocket and went
for'ard, feeling a deal more proud than if he
owned a fleet. For the deserted steamer, the
name of which was the <i>Winchelsea</i> of Liverpool,
was a direct proof that his luck was still what
it had been. He found the end of the twine,
and hauled in the slack very cautiously.
</p>
<p>
"I wish I could see his face," said Spink, as he
gave the twine a yank which made Ward sit up
suddenly and wonder what had happened to him.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, oh, oh!" said Ward. The ice was nearer
than it had been, and what he said was quite
audible on board the <i>Winchelsea</i>.
</p>
<p>
"Eh, what?" said Ward. And then Spink
gave the line another yank which almost started
Ward on an ice run for the water. But this
time he found out what was the matter, and
laid hold of the twine.
</p>
<p>
"Who the devil's pulling my leg?" he roared
in such stentorian tones that the whole crowd
woke up instantly.
</p>
<p>
"I am," said Spink. "And I'll thank you to
pay attention, and not lie there snoring while I
do all the work."
</p>
<p>
"Where are you?" asked Ward. "I can't
see you."
</p>
<p>
"Where d'ye think I am?" asked Spink.
"While you were asleep I went out and looked
for a new job and found it."
</p>
<p>
As he spoke there were sudden signs of dawn,
and once more the curtain of the mist rolled
away, and the late crew of the <i>Swan</i> saw a big
steamer within fifty feet of them, with the late
skipper of the <i>Swan</i> leaning over her side smoking
his morning pipe.
</p>
<p>
"Jerusalem!" said the crew, and they shook
their heads with amazement, while Ward scratched
his. Day whistled, old Mac burst into joyful
tears, and Billings used some awful language
to show his gratitude. And Spink said—
</p>
<p>
"When you have washed and shaved and put
on clean collars, I should be much obliged by
your coming on board and doing enough work to
melt the hoar-frost that's on you. Limehouse,
scull over to the berg, and look slippy about it."
</p>
<p>
In ten minutes they all found themselves on
board, and Mac and Calder set to work before
breakfast to patch her up. The engines and
furnaces were still warm, and it took little time
to get up steam. But Ward took some to get up
his. As he said, it was a fair knock-out, and
it seemed like some black magic on the part
of the skipper, who walked the bridge after
breakfast as if he owned the whole North
Atlantic.
</p>
<p>
"She was bound for England, and we'll go
home," said Spink. "And as soon as may be
we'll find out what's in her. This is my first
salvage, and it's goin' to be a good one."
</p>
<p>
"You're a wonder," said Ward.
</p>
<p>
"Didn't I always say so?" replied Spink
modestly. "And now I hope that you and Day
will behave yourselves, and not trade on any
weaknesses that I may have, for I won't put up
with it if you do."
</p>
<p>
"How do you propose to stop it?" asked
Day. "You can't plug me or Ward any better
now than you could before. Why don't you
behave? Then there would be no trouble. I'm
fair sick of hearin' about your unfortunate
disposition."
</p>
<p>
"So am I," said Ward.
</p>
<p>
Spink shook his head with disgust.
</p>
<p>
"And this kind of talk after what I've done,"
he said. "I wish you would read old Kelly's
little book on the Mate and His Duties, Ward.
It would teach you how to behave."
</p>
<p>
"I had it in the <i>Swan</i>," said Ward, "but
though it had a lot in it about land-saints and
sea-devils, there was nothin' in it that fitted a
man like you."
</p>
<p>
"Perhaps not," said Spink thoughtfully. "I
own I'm rare, I'm very rare."
</p>
<p>
The fog cleared right off, and the sun shone
and the calm sea sparkled. In such circumstances
everyone ought to have been happy, but Spink
said he wasn't.
</p>
<p>
"I wish I wasn't so rare," said Spink.
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p><a id="chap04"></a></p>
<h3>
THE REMARKABLE CONVERSION OF<br />
THE REV. THOMAS RUDDLE<br />
</h3>
<p>
The passengers on board the s.s. <i>Nantucket</i>,
bound from New York to Table Bay, were of a
kind to make any old-fashioned seaman shake
his head and talk dismally of Davy Jones. They
were nearly all ministers and missionaries, and
it is well known to all who follow the sea that
gentlemen of that kind are unlucky to have on
board. For Davy Jones is the very devil, and
if he gets a chance to drown a minister he does
it at once, so that he may do no more good.
There can be no mistake about this, for every
sailorman of great experience will endorse the
theory with strange oaths. What all sailors
say must be true, for they know their business.
</p>
<p>
One of these missionaries was the Reverend
Mr. Ruddle, and he was the chief of all the
others, who were going to South Africa to do it
good. There were six of them all told. Thomas
Ruddle had his wife with him, for he could not
exist without her; and she, for her part, thought
him a marvellous man and a darling. He had
a beautiful smile, and a big black beard, and a
voice like the bellow of an amiable bull. But
Mrs. Ruddle was blue-eyed, with the complexion
of a Californian peach and a voice like a flute.
She would have followed him to Davy Jones'
locker itself if he had asked her, and though he
did not think of doing anything so unorthodox,
they were not far from having to go there without
the consent of anyone. For when the <i>Nantucket</i>
was within two hundred miles of Capetown
it came on to blow from the south-east as if the
very devil was at the bellows, and after the old
packet had proved that she hadn't sufficient
power to make headway against the gale, she
promptly cracked her shaft, and went drifting
away to loo'ard like a Dutch schuyt on a lee
tide.
</p>
<p>
"It is a very sad misfortune, and I do not
know now when we shall be in Africa," said
Tom Ruddle. "I regret to say, my dear, that
the captain is on the main-deck using very bad
language to the chief engineer, who is replying
to him in a way that I cannot approve. Indeed,
I think he swears worse than Captain Stokes,
if it is possible, which I doubt."
</p>
<p>
The other gentlemen in black mostly kept to
their cabins, but Ruddle went about in the most
astonishing way. If the <i>Nantucket</i> stood on her
head Ruddle never lost his feet, and when she
stood on her tail he was quite at his ease. When
she indulged in a wild compound wallow in
those delightful cross pyramidal seas which are the
peculiar attribute of the South Atlantic in the
neighbourhood of the Cape, all that Tom Ruddle
said was 'Dear me.' He even said it when
Captain Stokes did a flying scoot on the main-deck,
and brought up against the rail with a crash
that almost unshipped his teeth. What Stokes
said was not 'Dear me.' And the old <i>Nantucket</i>
went drifting west-nor'-west on the branch of
the current, coming round the Cape, which
runs far to the north of Tristan d'Acunha, as
if she had put Africa out of her mind. Down
below the engineers were trying very hard to
fake up something to brace round the shaft,
so that they could at least turn the engines
ahead when the weather let up a little. It seemed
a hopeless job, and to none so hopeless as to
the engine-room crowd. And just as perseverance
with the impossible seemed about to be
rewarded, the <i>Nantucket</i> gave a wallow in an
awful sea, and quietly dropped her propeller as a
scared lizard drops its tail. Then very naturally
the wind took off, and the sea went down and
smoothed itself out, and looked quite pretty to
those who had been watching the grey waste
in despair.
</p>
<p>
"We're done," said the skipper. For the
idea of sailing her into Table Bay was as feasible
as sailing her to the moon. The wind, although
it had fallen light, was still in the east, and
it threatened to stay so till it blew another
gale, after the fashion of Cape weather, where
fifty per cent. of all winds that blow are gales.
</p>
<p>
"It is exceedingly unfortunate," said Ruddle.
</p>
<p>
"What will happen to us?" asked his fellows
in deep melancholy.
</p>
<p>
"Something must," said their brave leader,
and sure enough it did. A sailing ship hove in
sight to loo'ard. The skipper, as soon as he
heard of the stranger, made up his mind what to
do. He hoisted the signal 'In distress—want
assistance,' and presently the sailing ship came
up under her lee within hailing distance, and
backed her main-topsail.
</p>
<p>
"Are you bound for Table Bay?" asked
Captain Stokes, and the obliging stranger said
he was. In ten minutes it was all arranged,
and the <i>Nantucket's</i> passengers were being
transhipped to the <i>Ocean Wave</i> of a thousand
tons register, belonging to London. Stokes
went on board with the last boat, and shook
hands with the master of the <i>Ocean Wave</i>.
</p>
<p>
"When you get in send a tug out to find
us," said Stokes; "it's goin' to blow heavy
in a while."
</p>
<p>
"I'll do it," said Captain Gray; "but are
you sure that you won't come along?"
</p>
<p>
"I'd go under first," said Stokes; "I'll stick
by her till I'm as old as the Flying Dutchman,
and my beard is down to my knees."
</p>
<p>
It was very rash to say such things in the very
cruising ground of Vanderdecken, and some
of the crew of the <i>Wave</i> that heard it shivered.
But Stokes was a hard case, and believed in
nothing. He said good-bye to his passengers
and went on board the <i>Nantucket</i>. The <i>Ocean
Wave</i> boarded her maintack and stood on her
course with her new crowd of passengers, who
were very much delighted to be on board something
that did not go to leeward like a butter-cask.
</p>
<p>
"How strange to be on board a sailing ship,"
said Ruddle, as he stood on the poop with the
skipper, who was a genial old chap with a white
beard, and a figure as square as a four-hundred
gallon tank.
</p>
<p>
"Why strange, Mr. Ruddle?" asked Captain
Gray. "Barring your rig-out you look a deal
more like a seaman than a parson, at least you
do to my eye."
</p>
<p>
"Your eye is right, captain," said Ruddle
with a sigh. "But it is a very remarkable
thing that though I have been a sailor I know
nothing about the sea that I have not picked
up on board the unlucky steamer we have just
left."
</p>
<p>
"That's a very strange thing to say, sir,"
said the skipper, as he eyed Ruddle from head
to foot. "May I ask how you make that out?
Once a seaman always a seaman, I should say.
I can't imagine my forgetting anything. I never
could."
</p>
<p>
"It's a very strange story," said Ruddle;
"and if there wasn't evidence for it I shouldn't
believe it myself. But in my pocket-book below
I have my old discharges as mate, and yet at
the present moment there is no one on board
who knows less about the sea than I do, though
I hold a master's certificate."
</p>
<p>
"Spin us the yarn," said the skipper, and
Ruddle told him the strange tale.
</p>
<p>
"I am informed," said the minister, "that I
was, at the time I am about to mention, mate in
a ship belonging to Dundee. I say I am told,
because I have not the least recollection of it.
To put it shortly, I may tell you that I had an
accident, and when I became sensible again I
was in hospital in Liverpool."
</p>
<p>
"But what was your accident?" asked
Captain Gray.
</p>
<p>
"Something that I am told you call a shearpole
came down from aloft and struck me on the
head, and I knew no more," said Ruddle,
who was evidently a very poor hand at a
yarn.
</p>
<p>
"Well, well, go on," said the skipper. "What
happened then?"
</p>
<p>
"How do I know?" asked Ruddle in his turn.
"I was knocked silly while the crew were taking
in sail in a very great storm to the south of
Ireland, and they say I was very angry with
the poor fellows up aloft and was using dreadful
language to them. I was struck down, and
when I came to myself I was not myself at all
but another,—if I do not sadly confuse you by
putting it that way,—and I had forgotten all that
had happened since I went to sea, and I did
not want to go again. I became a minister
instead and a missionary."
</p>
<p>
"Well, I'm jiggered," said Gray, "but that's
a corker of a yarn. Were you married when
you were a seaman?"
</p>
<p>
"No," replied Ruddle; "I met my wife soon
after I became my second and present self,
and my remarkable story so interested her that
we got married. It is interesting, isn't it?"
</p>
<p>
"And do you mean to say that you remember
nothing whatever of the sea? Could you go
aloft, for instance?"
</p>
<p>
Mr. Ruddle looked up aloft and shivered.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, I couldn't," he said. "The very look
of the complicated apparatus with which I must
have been once only too familiar fills me with
peculiar horror."
</p>
<p>
"Well, I'm damned," said Gray. "What's
the opposite point of the compass to
sou'-east-by-sou'-half sou'-southerly?"
</p>
<p>
"I give it up. Tell me," said the minister
simply.
</p>
<p>
Gray shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"You surprise me, sir. Can you tell when
there is a mighty strong likelihoods of bad
weather comin' along?"
</p>
<p>
"I'm not at all bad at guessing when it's likely
to rain," said the former mate modestly. "I'm
never caught in a shower without my umbrella."
</p>
<p>
And Gray shook his head again, and confided
to the sea and air that Ruddle was a red wonder.
</p>
<p>
"If you don't know more about weather
than that, you are going to have a fine chance
to learn, Mr. Ruddle," said the skipper. "I
smell a howling gale or I'm a double-distilled
Dutchman. If it don't come out of nor'-east
like a rampin', ragin', snortin' devil, call me
no sailor, but the reddest kind of sojer."
</p>
<p>
There were many signs of it, and the fall of
the glass was only one. The swell that had been
coming in from the south-east now began to
come more from the north, and the whole of the
horizon was in a kind of smoke. The wind,
which had fallen so light, now began to puff
a little, and though it was no more than a breeze
that any man's t'gallan's'ls could look at
comfortably, there were odd sighs in the wind,
sighs which had a rising tendency to become
wails. Before long they would be wailings
and no mistake, for these sounds are the real
voice of a hurricane, and foretell it. The skipper
looked up to windward and spoke to his mate.
</p>
<p>
"Mr. Dixon, I think we had better snug her
down a bit before it gets dark, so clew up the
t'gallan's'ls, and then we'll take the mainsail
off her. And after that you can reef the foresail.
While the breeze holds in the nor'-east we'll
make all we can. But I reckon we'll be hove
to by the morning."
</p>
<p>
There wasn't much doubt of that to those who
knew something of Cape weather. The Cape
pigeons as they wheeled and whistled about the
<i>Ocean Wave</i> said 'clew up and clew down.' At
anyrate, the crew for'ard said so as they
turned out to shorten sail. Mr. Ruddle went
below to encourage his companions and his wife.
By the time it was as dark as the bottom of
a tar-barrel they wanted encouragement, for
the <i>Wave</i> began to pitch in a manner that the
<i>Nantucket</i> had not accustomed them to, and as
the wind increased the song of the gale in the
rigging got on their nerves sadly.
</p>
<p>
"What do you think of it, Brother Ruddle?"
asked his friend Chadwick, a little butter-tub
of a man with the courage of a lion among the
heathen or the denizens of a New York slum,
but without as much spirit when the wind blew
as would enable a school-girl to face a cow in a
lane. "What does Brother Ruddle think of it?"
</p>
<p>
Ruddle said that he did not think much of it,
for he thought the skipper was not frightened.
</p>
<p>
"Although the sea threatens to rage, my
friends," said the chief, "he shows no signs
of unseemly terror, but with calm confidence
bids his brave crew haste up aloft and reduce
the mighty spread of canvas. They are even
now engaged in the task. Hear with what
strange music, which somehow begins to have
a familiar ring in my ears, they encourage each
other in their arduous duties. Oh, my friends,
we little think when we are safe in the heart of
Africa, or in the back parts of the Bowery, how
seamen encounter dangers on our behalf."
</p>
<p>
"Ah, and you were a sailor once, Tom," said
his wife.
</p>
<p>
"I do not praise myself, dear, in praising
them, for now I dare not face those dangers with
which at one time I must have been familiar.
It is wonderful, all life is wonderful. If I had not
been smitten upon the head by a shearpole,
whatever a shearpole may be, I might never
have known any of you, my dear friends; and
I might never have married you, my dear.
Ah, it is a wonderful world, and they are making
a very remarkable noise upstairs."
</p>
<p>
They certainly were making a noise, and so
was the wind, and Mr. Dixon was saying very
unorthodox things, and so was Smith the second
mate. And every now and again the skipper
could be heard in exhortation, so that Susan
Ruddle snugged up alongside her husband, and
said that she was glad he was not a seaman,
though that she was sure that if he were
one now he would never employ such language.
Ruddle comforted her, and said it would fill
him with horror to know that he had ever used
any of that kind of talk. He felt sure in his
mind that the report of his having ever done
so must have been a malicious invention of
some enemy. Since he had borne up for the
Church he had been, as all men knew, of a
scrupulousness which was extra Puritanical even
for a minister. He never said 'damn' unless
he had to in the course of his duty.
</p>
<p>
Presently the <i>Ocean Wave</i> began to behave
herself a little better under shortened canvas,
and the old skipper came into the cabin with
his face shining with spray, and a good-natured
grin on him which would have encouraged
the biggest coward at sea in a cyclone. Little
Mrs. Ruddle cheered up on sight of him, and so
did all but the Reverend Mr. Blithers, who was
in a state of terror that was sheer lunacy.
</p>
<p>
"Is it a great storm? Are we going down?"
asked Blithers. He was so far encouraged
that he could speak.
</p>
<p>
"Bless my heart," replied the skipper, "what
are you thinking of, in a nice breeze like this,
and in a sailin' ship too? If you was in an old
smokestack like the one I took you gents out of
you might howl, but here you are in a fine tight
ship, the real genuine article, and are a deal
safer than if you was ashore."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, do you say so?" asked Blithers. "Oh,
is it possible that you can say so with the wind
howling like this?"
</p>
<p>
And indeed the gale began to pipe as if it meant
business.
</p>
<p>
"Hold your tongue, Blithers," said Ruddle;
"be a man and a missionary, and do not howl."
</p>
<p>
Blithers said his brother was unkind, and
ought to be more gentle with a weak vessel.
And at that the skipper put in his oar, and
suggested that so weak a vessel should not carry sail
but retire to his cabin. At this Ruddle laughed
jovially, and Blithers said he was hard and cruel,
and devoid of all real religious feelings.
</p>
<p>
"Don't be a fool, my dear man," said Ruddle,
"but go to bed. It is perhaps natural to be
upset by the strange uproar, and the noise of
the wind, and the trampling of the men on deck,
but that is no reason why you should say I am
not religious. If I were not I should be angry
with you and say regrettable things, such as I
am informed, on very good authority, that I
said when I was a seaman."
</p>
<p>
"I don't believe you ever were one," said the
sad and angry Blithers. "And if you were, it
is a pity you did not stay one, for you are
a very unkind man, and not good to me in my
sad state of mind."
</p>
<p>
It took five missionaries to get Blithers into
bed, but he went at last, and when he was gone
Ruddle beamed on the rest, and said—
</p>
<p>
"Our poor brother is sadly upset by the
weather. It is difficult to understand how he
can be such a coward on the water when he is
a real hero on the dry land, and has an especial
gift of management with backsliding cannibals.
But anything can be believed when you remember
that I was once in the position of Mr. Dixon,
whose voice I now hear saying something about
the lee-braces, and knew all about everything
on board a ship. And now, my friends, all
things here are mystery to me, and I do not
know what the lee-braces are, and cannot
distinguish with accuracy between a binnacle
and a bull-whanger, if indeed there is such a
thing as I was told by one of the seamen on the
<i>Nantucket</i>. Ah, hold tight, dear, she is rocking
to and fro with ever increasing velocity. I fear
that Blithers will never forget this night."
</p>
<p>
And they all had supper. The 'old man'
sat it out with them, and put on his oilskins
again and went on the poop. There was no
mistake about it now. The <i>Ocean Wave</i> was in
for a Cape stinger, and Gray, who was of the
old-fashioned, bull-headed sort, rammed her along
on the very path the cyclonic disturbance was
taking. If he had been thoroughly acquainted
with the nature of all cyclones wherever they
are bred, he would have turned tail to the blast,
and have run into fairer weather towards the
south; or, as the <i>Wave</i> was in the southern
semi-circle of the storm, he might have hove her to
on the coming up or starboard tack. Instead
of that he hung on all through the night. When
the dawn came it was a fair howler and no
mistake. Mr. Blithers and not a few of the others
stayed in their bunks. It was blowing hard
enough to make almost anyone ill, and the sea
was very high. But Thomas Ruddle and his
wife and Chadwick turned out to breakfast.
</p>
<p>
If Ruddle trusted to Providence, Susan Ruddle
trusted to him, and hardly thought it possible
that any disaster could happen to her while
he was to the fore. Mr. Chadwick was brave
enough to hide his terror, though he was in a
horrid funk. They hung on to the tables and
ate some breakfast as best they could, and
after eating, Ruddle and Mrs. Ruddle and
Chadwick ventured on deck, in time to see the
reefed foresail taken off her. Just as they
got the weather clew-garnet chock up, the gale
came screaming across the waste of grey sea
to such a tune that the skipper altered his
mind there and then.
</p>
<p>
"Hold on with the lee gear of the foresail,
Mr. Dixon," he bellowed, and then he signed to the
mate to come aft.
</p>
<p>
"We'll wear her now and heave her to on
the starboard tack," said the 'old man.' "This
is going to be a fair perisher."
</p>
<p>
As Dixon had been throwing out hints all
night that he ought to do that or run, he was
glad to hear it. They waited for a smooth,
and put the helm up.
</p>
<p>
"Square the after yards!" roared the skipper;
and they squared away, keeping the sails lifting.
</p>
<p>
"Isn't it wonderful?" said Ruddle. "I do
wish I understood it. I wonder what they are
doing it for?"
</p>
<p>
"Square the foreyard!" yelled the captain;
and they did so, and got the staysail sheet over,
and by proper management she came up on
the other tack with her nose pointing N.N.E.
They hauled up what was now the weather
clew of the foresail, and the second mate and the
men jumped aloft and furled it.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, dear," said Mr. Ruddle, "how dreadful
to see them up there! I can't believe that I
ever did it, Chadwick."
</p>
<p>
But the <i>Wave</i> was carrying her topsails, and
though they were reefed she was scooting with
her lee-rail awash. As soon as the foresail was
stowed, both topsail halliards were let go and
the sails partly smothered by the spilling lines.
When they were furled, the lower foretopsail
was clewed up, and Ruddle, who got much
excited, went down on the main-deck in spite
of the seas which came over right for'ard by
the galley. Mrs. Ruddle said, 'Oh, don't,' but
Ruddle said, 'My dear, it is so interesting, and
I must.' And there he was staring up at the
crowd on the topsail-yard who were fighting
the bellying canvas like heroes.
</p>
<p>
"Bless my soul, how very remarkable, and
even terrible," said Ruddle. "How very
extraordinary. I wonder if I ever did that, I'll ask
Mr. Dixon if the manoeuvre is often performed."
</p>
<p>
He fell upon the busy and very cross mate
with this inquiry, and though Dixon had heard
the tale about him he did not credit it, and put
it down to some hallucination.
</p>
<p>
"Do I do it often? Do what often?" asked
Dixon scornfully.
</p>
<p>
"Why, tie those sails up like that when it
blows so hard?" asked Ruddle innocently.
"Why don't you tie them up when it is fine?
It would be much easier I should think."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, go home and die," said the mate
savagely.
</p>
<p>
"That's very rude," said Ruddle, "and I
don't like it."
</p>
<p>
"If you don't like it you can lump it," said
the mate. "Haven't you more sense than to
come worrying here in a gale of wind?"
</p>
<p>
"Is it a real gale?" asked Ruddle. "A very
hard one?"
</p>
<p>
It certainly looked like one, for every squall
came harder and harder, so that the topsail
when it was once smothered was blown out
of the men's grip, and was all abroad and bellying
once more.
</p>
<p>
"Damn your eyes, hold on to it or you'll lose
the sail after all!" yelled Dixon. But no one
heard him on the yard, they were at grips
with the canvas again, and the second mate
and the bo'son at the bunt were doing all the
cursing that was necessary for a task like that.
</p>
<p>
"They seem to be working very courageously,
and I think it wrong of you to swear at them,"
said Ruddle severely; and then Dixon turned on
him as if he were going to hit him. At that
moment a fresh squall struck the <i>Wave</i> and
almost laid her on her beam ends, though she
was practically hove to under the lower
maintopsail.
</p>
<p>
"I never swear," said Ruddle, as the mate
lifted his fist. Then the squall shrieked, and
as the <i>Wave</i> laid over to it both Ruddle and the
mate lost their footing, and slid between the
fo'castle and the fore part of the deck-house
as if they were on an ice toboggan run. The
mate said some awful things, and Ruddle gasped,
'You shouldn't, oh, you really shouldn't.' And
then they fetched up against the lee-rail with
a thump that caused a common accident and
wrought a very uncommon miracle. Mr. Dixon
snapped his arm like a carrot, and let a yell out
of him that reached the crowd on the yard.
</p>
<p>
"By crimes!" said the men up aloft, "when
old Dickie squeals like that he means comin'
aloft himself to talk to hus like a father. Now
then, boys, grab again and 'old 'er!"
</p>
<p>
As they tackled the topsail for the third time
the cook came out of the lee door of the galley
and picked the mate out of the swamped scuppers.
</p>
<p>
"Easy, easy, you swab," said Dixon. "My
arm's broke."
</p>
<p>
With the cook's help he got aft, and when he
did he promptly sat down in the cabin and
fainted right off with the pain. And Ruddle
still wallowed in the scuppers, for he had hit
the rail with his head and given it a most
tremendous and effectual thump. After a minute or
two he stirred and spat out a mouthful of salt
water. He also shook his head and rubbed
it. Then he sat up and said—
</p>
<p>
"Well, I'm damned! What has happened?"
</p>
<p>
He shook his head again, and suddenly jumped
to his feet. The miracle happened, and they all
heard it. Tom Ruddle in the old days had
the very finest foretopsail-yard ahoy voice
that ever rang across the wastes of ocean. It
came back to him now.
</p>
<p>
"Ain't you dogs got that topsail stowed yet?"
he roared in accents that made the second mate
on the yard shake in his rubber boots. "Oh,
you slabsided gang of loafers, oh, you sojers,
dig in and do somethin', or before you know
I'll be up there and boot you off the yard."
</p>
<p>
The entire crowd on the yard was so paralysed
by what they heard that they turned and looked
at him, and very promptly lost all that they
had gained the last bout. To see a minister
suddenly become a seaman and use such language
was enough to scare them into loosing the
jack-stay and tumbling overboard.
</p>
<p>
"Jehoshaphat!" said they, "what's gone
wrong with him?"
</p>
<p>
And the second greaser was just as much
surprised as any of them; so much so, indeed,
that he could not swear. Ruddle did it for
him, and his language was awful, full, abundant,
brilliant and biting. He told the second mate
what he thought of him, and what he thought
of all his relations; and he confided to the storm
what his opinion of the crew was and always had
been; and of a sudden he made a bound, and
jumping on the rail ran up the rigging like a
monkey, and before they could gasp he was
right in among them at the bunt, exhorting them
as if they were impenitent mules.
</p>
<p>
"Now, now, up with it, you no sailors, you!"
he roared, as his long black coat flapped in the
wind like Irish pennants. He dug into the
bellying canvas with the clutch of a devil's claw,
and the crew sighed and were subdued to the
strange facts, and did as he told them like the
best. There was now a sudden scream from
aft. Mrs. Ruddle caught sight of him on the
yard, and Chadwick cried out—
</p>
<p>
"Oh, it was your husband that was swearing so."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Tom, Tom," screamed his wife, "come
down, come down!"
</p>
<p>
And she screamed again, and Ruddle heard
it and swore vigorously.
</p>
<p>
"What's a woman doin' on deck in such
weather?" he cried, as he clawed at the sail
and held it with his stomach, and yelled in unison
with the second mate, who now began to see the
joke of it.
</p>
<p>
"Where does he think he is?" he said; and
at that moment the last great fold of the top-sail
rose in the air like a breaking wave, and
with one yell of triumph the whole of the crowd
threw themselves on it and smothered its life
out.
</p>
<p>
"Sock it to her!" roared Ruddle triumphantly,
as he dropped the gathered bunt into the skin
of the sail and reached for the bunt gasket.
</p>
<p>
"There you are," said Ruddle; and then for
the first time he looked at the second mate,
and an expression of the blankest amazement
passed across his face.
</p>
<p>
"Who the devil are you?" he asked. "I
never saw you before."
</p>
<p>
It was almost impossible to make one's self
heard in the howl of the gale, but Ruddle did
it, and the crowd, with a grin on all their
weather-beaten and hairy countenances, waited to hear
Mr. Smith's answering yell.
</p>
<p>
"Who the devil do you think you are?" he asked.
</p>
<p>
"I'm the mate of this ship," said Ruddle,
"but, but I don't think I ever saw any of you
before?"
</p>
<p>
"How do you come to be togged up like you
are, if you are mate?" asked Smith, as he made
the bunt gasket fast. "Don't you think you
look a hell of a sailor in that rig?"
</p>
<p>
"I don't understand it," said Ruddle blankly.
"Where did I get these clothes?"
</p>
<p>
"You'd better ask the 'old man,'" said the
second mate. "You're a clergyman, and you
ain't a sailor at all."
</p>
<p>
"You're a liar," said Ruddle. "But I don't
understand it. I don't know any of you. Where
are we?"
</p>
<p>
"Off the Cape, to be sure," said Smith.
</p>
<p>
Ruddle shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"There is something very horrid about this,"
he said, with an awe-stricken expression of
countenance, "for when we clewed up this topsail
we were off the Head of Kinsale."
</p>
<p>
"Holy Moses," said the crowd, "'ow she
must have scooted in 'alf a watch!"
</p>
<p>
"Well, we're off the Cape now," said Smith
impatiently; "and if you don't believe it, you
can ask the captain."
</p>
<p>
And they all came down on deck. Ruddle
walked like a man in a dream, and as he walked
he rubbed the spot that had been bruised. When
his wife saw him coming she screamed again,
and called out to him—
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Tom, Tom! how could you do it?"
</p>
<p>
And Tom grasped the second mate by the arm.
</p>
<p>
"Who's that woman calling 'Tom'?"
</p>
<p>
The second mate stopped as if he had been
shot, and whistled.
</p>
<p>
"D'ye mean to say you don't know?" he
asked.
</p>
<p>
"Confound you, I wouldn't ask if I did,"
said Ruddle savagely. "It ain't me, surely?"
</p>
<p>
It was Smith's turn to grab hold of him.
</p>
<p>
"Don't you know her?" he asked in tones of
positive alarm.
</p>
<p>
"No!" roared the unfortunate Ruddle. "No
more than I know you or any of 'em."
</p>
<p>
Smith nearly fell down.
</p>
<p>
"Man, she's your wife," said Smith; and
once more Susan Ruddle said—
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Tom, how could you do it and me here?"
</p>
<p>
Then Chadwick spoke and rebuked Ruddle
very strongly for having done it, and Ruddle
shook his head and scratched it and shook it
again, and then burst out with dreadful language
against Chadwick for interfering with a stranger.
</p>
<p>
"He don't know any of you," said Smith,
as Chadwick fell into a cold perspiration to
hear his chief use such awful language. "He
don't know any of you. And he lets on that he
is the mate of this ship, and that we are off the
Old Head of Kinsale."
</p>
<p>
And Susan Ruddle fainted dead away.
</p>
<p>
"Take the poor silly woman down below,"
said Ruddle. "She must be mad. I don't
know where I am, or how I got here, but I do
know jolly well that I ain't married, and that a
girl in London that I ain't by no means stuck on
thinks I'm going to marry her this very year.
But I ain't goin' to, by a dern sight. Not me."
</p>
<p>
They carried her down below just as the
'old man' came on deck after setting the
mate's arm. Smith told him what had happened.
</p>
<p>
The skipper shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"This is very remarkable and tryin'," said
the skipper. "For Mr. Dixon's arm is broken
through this Ruddle barrackin' him and askin'
him why he did not take in sail when it was
calm, as it would be easier. Oh, this is very
wonderful, and I makes very little of it. And
now he says he ain't married. He brought her
here as his wife, and you are all witnesses to that.
Oh, it is very remarkable, and I make nothin' of it
in spite of his havin' been a sailor before, as looks
likely as he went aloft. Is it true he swore?"
</p>
<p>
"Most awful and hair-raisin' and blasphemous,"
replied the second mate, who was a very
good judge of swearing.
</p>
<p>
"Did he now, and him a minister? It's very
remarkable, and I makes nothin' of it," said the
skipper, and he ran up the poop and right into
the arms of Ruddle.
</p>
<p>
"Who are you? Are you the captain? I
want to see the captain before I go ragin' luny,"
said Ruddle.
</p>
<p>
"Steady," said the old skipper, grasping him
tightly by the arm, "steady, my son. Don't
you know me?"
</p>
<p>
"Never saw you before that I know of,"
groaned Ruddle. "And there's no one here that
I know; and I don't know where I am or what I
am, or where I got these disgusting clothes from,
or where we are, or anything about anythin'
whatsoever."
</p>
<p>
The skipper gasped.
</p>
<p>
"You don't remember bein' a minister, and
tellin' me that you had been a seaman and
had had a bash on the crust with a shearpole
from aloft that laid you out stiff, and when
you come to you didn't rek'lect havin' bin a
sailor at all, and that you then bore up for the
Church and became a missionary? Oh, say
you rek'lect, for if you don't I makes nothin'
of it, and am most confused; and there is your
wife in a dead faint down below."
</p>
<p>
But Ruddle shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"I don't believe I ever was a missionary,
for I always allowed they were a scaly lot. And
I ain't married, and the girl that thinks I'll
marry her is away off her true course by points.
But I say, how long do you reckon I was minister?"
</p>
<p>
He held on to the 'old man' as if he was
holding on to sanity, and implored an answer.
</p>
<p>
"We'll ask your pal," said Gray, and he
bellowed down the companion for Chadwick,
who came on deck with his eyes bolting.
</p>
<p>
"Is that my pal?" asked Ruddle in great
disappointment. "Why, I never saw him either."
</p>
<p>
Poor Chadwick burst into tears.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, this is dreadful, this is very dreadful,"
said poor Chadwick. "What shall we do?
Our chief stay and strength is gone from us, and
doesn't know even me that married him."
</p>
<p>
Ruddle stared, and then rushed at him and
held him in the grip of a bear.
</p>
<p>
"Steady, mister, are you speakin' truth or
are you gettin' at me?"
</p>
<p>
"It's the truth," said Chadwick.
</p>
<p>
"Then how long was I in your business?
Tell me straight, or I'll sling you overboard
right now."
</p>
<p>
"Eight years," squealed Chadwick; "and there's
all of us downstairs can testify to the same."
</p>
<p>
Ruddle sighed, and looked at the raging sea
and at the skipper and at Chadwick, and up
aloft. After a long silence he spoke.
</p>
<p>
"If I'm right the year's eighteen-ninety,
and if you are right it must be ninety-eight
or more, accordin' to the time it took me to get
my certificate as missionary. What year is it?"
</p>
<p>
"Nineteen hundred, so 'elp me," said the
skipper; "and I'll have up the Nautical Almanac
to show you."
</p>
<p>
But Ruddle took their word for it, and sniffed
a little, and then remarked—
</p>
<p>
"I do think my beard wants trimmin'. And
am I mad now?"
</p>
<p>
"No, no," said the faithful Chadwick, "you
aren't mad, and in a little while it will all come
back to you, and you will come back to us,
and we'll all be happy, even Blithers."
</p>
<p>
"Who's Blithers?" asked Ruddle sadly.
Yet he did not wait for an answer. Though
the <i>Wave</i> was now hove to under her main-topsail,
with the fore-yards checked in, and was
fairly comfortable, the gale instead of moderating
let another reef out, so to speak, and was
a regular sizzler.
</p>
<p>
"I should like to see that main-topsail goose-winged,
sir," said Ruddle suddenly, "for if we
are off the Cape, as you all seem to think, this
is by no means the worst of it, and it will be a
real old-fashioned scorcher."
</p>
<p>
The 'old man' looked at him.
</p>
<p>
"Do you know the mate's arm is broke?"
</p>
<p>
"No," said Ruddle.
</p>
<p>
"Well, it is, and he ain't fit to do a thing,
naturally, and that means I haven't a mate."
</p>
<p>
Ruddle looked pleased for the first time since
he came back to his old sea-self.
</p>
<p>
"You don't say so. Well, that is fortunate,"
he said with a happy smile. "This is what I call
real luck. I'll be the mate, sir, till you can
get another."
</p>
<p>
"Right," said the skipper. "And if you like
you can goose-wing the topsail, Mr. Ruddle.
I reckon you're right about the weather. We
have enough parsons aboard to make old Davy
Jones do his best."
</p>
<p>
And Ruddle, with a happy flush on his face,
bellowed from the break of the poop for the
watch to lay aft. They heard his voice with
amazement and came very lively.
</p>
<p>
"Haul up the lee clew of the lower main-topsail,"
said the new mate, and going down
on the main-deck he saw the gear manned, and
started the sheet, and then lent his gigantic
strength to get the clew chock up.
</p>
<p>
"Jump aloft and goose-wing it," said Ruddle
to the bo'son, and the men jumped and did as
they were told with extraordinary agility. They
said it was a miracle, and so it was. But Ruddle
was quite happy for a moment, and when they
were down on deck again he turned to the
skipper and laughed, positively laughed.
</p>
<p>
But the 'old man' did not even smile.
</p>
<p>
"I'm thinking of the poor little lady down
below, Mr. Ruddle," he said with a sigh. "What
are you goin' to do about her?"
</p>
<p>
A look of great determination came over
Ruddle's face, and the smile died out of it.
</p>
<p>
"If I married, and I don't believe I did, when
I was dotty through bein' hit on the crust, I
ain't goin' to acknowledge it," said he with
firmness. "I ain't the same man, that's obvious.
And as I don't know the lady, the situation
would be uncommon awkward for her and for
me, and I think the best thing is for nothin'
further to be said."
</p>
<p>
The skipper was very doubtful as to whether
this was the proper way to look at it, and he
expressed a very decided opinion on what the
lady would say.
</p>
<p>
"I'm a married man myself," said Gray, "and
I own I have a wife that is a jewel, but what
she would say if I said I didn't know her, owing
to some accident at sea, fair inspires me with
dread. I don't believe Mrs. Ruddle will put
up with it, and you'll have a holy time in front
of you if she as much as hears that you think
of trying it on."
</p>
<p>
But Ruddle said he didn't care, and that he
wasn't going to have a wife foisted on him,
so there. And down below Chadwick was breaking
the dreadful news to Susan Ruddle that her
husband did not know her or anyone else, and
that he had become a sailor with a remarkably
unorthodox vocabulary, and when this was
driven into the poor woman's mind she screamed,
and almost fainted again.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do!"
she cried. And then Mr. Blithers, who had
never liked Ruddle, said that he would put it
right.
</p>
<p>
"I don't believe a word he says if he says
he doesn't know us," said Blithers angrily. "I
always thought he was not the man he wanted
us to think. And as for that story of his, I never
believed that either. I shall go on deck and
tell him that he is a scoundrel."
</p>
<p>
He did so. He crawled to the poop and
emerged into the gale in which Ruddle was
fairly revelling.
</p>
<p>
"Ruddle, you are a scoundrel," said Blithers.
"I always thought so, and now I know it."
</p>
<p>
Ruddle inspected him with great curiosity.
</p>
<p>
"I'm a scoundrel, am I?" asked the new
mate. "And what may you be?"
</p>
<p>
"Don't you dare say you don't know me,
Ruddle," said Blithers.
</p>
<p>
"I know you," said Ruddle. "I can tell by
the cut of your jib that you are an infernal
humbug of the first water. Get out of this
before I hurt you!"
</p>
<p>
"I won't," said Blithers furiously. "I won't
till you say what you are going to do about your
wife, who is weeping about you now, and crying
to you to come to her."
</p>
<p>
"If you don't stop tellin' lies about me and
ladies I'll throw you down into the cabin,"
said Ruddle.
</p>
<p>
"Hypocrite, liar, and man of sin, I defy you!"
said Blithers; and the next minute Ruddle had
him by the neck and threw him into the cabin.
</p>
<p>
"Stand from under," said Ruddle, and Blithers
howled and fell, and turned over and over as he
went, and at last came to a stop at the feet of
Chadwick and the disconsolate wife.
</p>
<p>
"He threw me down, and he knew me,"
screamed Blithers. "He said, 'I know you,
and you are a humbug.' He's just pretending."
</p>
<p>
"I don't believe it, Mr. Blithers," wailed the
unhappy woman. "He was always a good
judge of character even when he was at sea
before. But I want to see him myself. I must,
and I will. He'll know me. Oh, he must know
me or I shall die!"
</p>
<p>
The skipper came down below.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, captain," said Susan Ruddle, "I want
to see him. If he is the mate now, as you say,
you must order him to come to me at once."
</p>
<p>
"I will," said the skipper. "It's odd I never
thought of that before, when he as good as said
he declined to hear any more argument about
wives and women, and let on that the girl that
reckoned to marry him was likely to be
disapp'inted. You cheer up, ma'am. I'll send
him down sharp."
</p>
<p>
"Leave me here alone," said the discarded
wife, who in spite of her grief looked as pretty
as a picture. "Leave me alone, please."
</p>
<p>
Chadwick withdrew, and dragged the raging
Blithers with him. As Chadwick said, if anyone
could bring Ruddle back to a sense of the lost
period of his youth, it was his wife, and if she failed
it was likely to be a very remarkable business
and no mistake about it. He told Blithers of
other cases of the kind of which he had heard.
On the whole, Chadwick was optimistic. But
Blithers shook his head, and rather hoped that
Ruddle would remain a sailor for the rest of his life.
</p>
<p>
"I never thought he was fit to be a missionary,"
said Blithers. "And instead of him, I ought to
be looked on as the chief here."
</p>
<p>
There was a sharp argument going on on deck
in the meantime.
</p>
<p>
"I'll take charge of her, Mr. Ruddle," said
the skipper, "and you can go below and see your
wife, who is naturally anxious to see you."
</p>
<p>
"I ain't in the least anxious to go below,"
said Ruddle. "In fact, if it's all the same to
you I'd rather stay here till she's out of the way."
</p>
<p>
"I don't like to think that you are a coward,"
observed the skipper severely, "but I'll be
compelled to think so if you don't go at once and
square things up in some sort of shape."
</p>
<p>
"Well," said Ruddle, "that's all very well for
you, sir, that ain't caught in the same nip.
But I don't want to go. I don't know the lady,
and I'm naturally shy, and the cold perspiration
pours off me at the thought of it."
</p>
<p>
"I order you to do your duty," said the 'old
man.' "I order you to go below and soothe the
lady."
</p>
<p>
"Oh Lord, oh, I say, I won't," stammered
Ruddle. "I'd rather stay on deck all night."
</p>
<p>
"You won't? That's mutiny, Mr. Ruddle.
It is disobeyin' orders, it is refusing duty. I'd
be very sorry to use severe measures with you,
but if you don't go I'll have you put in irons
and carried to her."
</p>
<p>
"You don't mean that, sir, do you?"
</p>
<p>
"I mean it," said the skipper. "But I never
did see such a man. I never knew anyone so
unwillin' to see a pretty woman before."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, is she pretty?" asked Ruddle anxiously.
</p>
<p>
"Rather," said the 'old man.' "Oh, a regular
beauty, and no fatal error. Dixon and Smith
were both off their nuts about her when you
came on board."
</p>
<p>
"What's she like?" asked Ruddle. "Tell me
what she is like."
</p>
<p>
"Well, for one thing, she has got the most
beautiful golden hair," said the skipper; "and
from the way it's coiled, tier on tier on her
head, I should reckon she can sit on it
easy."
</p>
<p>
Ruddle sighed.
</p>
<p>
"Well, that seems all right," he said. "I was
afraid I might have landed one of the half-bald
kind I hate. I like 'em fair too. But go on, sir."
</p>
<p>
"Her eyes are a very superior kind of blue,"
said the poetical skipper; "and in my judgment
they don't stay the same kind of blue all the
time, but changes like the sea when clouds obscure
the heavens in a squall. I reckon she's mostly
sweet tempered, but if you riled her it would
not surprise me to learn that she could stand up
for herself."
</p>
<p>
"That's the way I like 'em," said Ruddle.
"I never could abide the milk-and-water woman.
But is she big or little?"
</p>
<p>
"Neither one nor the other," returned the
skipper. "Speaking as a judge of them, I
should say she is as she should be, not too little,
not too big, but what you might call sizeable.
And her complexion, of which I'm a judge, is
quite remarkable. Oh, on consideration I should
state with some firmness that she's very pretty."
</p>
<p>
"You comfort me a good deal," said Ruddle;
"and if you still insist on my seein' her, I'll
do it at once."
</p>
<p>
"It's my duty to insist, Ruddle," said the
'old man.' "So down you go, and mind you
behave. And don't be too stand-offish, for I
can't abide to see tears, and never could, and
as a result I've had much trouble in my life.
And when it's fixed up, come and tell me all
about it."
</p>
<p>
And Ruddle started to see his wife with slow,
reluctant steps.
</p>
<p>
"It's my firm belief that nothin' of this nature
ever happened before," said Ruddle, "and my
bein' nervous seems tolerable natural. I wonder,
oh, I do wonder, if I shall like her!"
</p>
<p>
He descended the companion as slowly as if
he were going to execution.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Tom, Tom," cried the lady who was,
they said, his wife, and a cold shiver ran down
Ruddle's back. He did not dare to lift his eyes,
and stood there like a big schoolboy who has
got into sad trouble and is much ashamed
of himself.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, Tom, don't you know me?" cried
Susan. She made an attempt to rise, which was
very promptly frustrated by the gale. Ruddle
lifted his eyes at last.
</p>
<p>
"If you please, ma'am, I don't think I do,"
said he. Then he added in desperation—"At
least, not well, ma'am."
</p>
<p>
The situation was too desperate for screaming,
and Susan accordingly did not scream. She
became dignified.
</p>
<p>
"I have been your wife for three years, and
now you say you don't know me. If you don't
know me, who am I, and what am I? Tom,
sir, Mr. Ruddle, I pause for a reply."
</p>
<p>
Poor Ruddle shook his head very sadly.
</p>
<p>
"It's mighty awkward, I own," he said
after some reflection; "and I don't know what
to do about it. I'm very sorry I don't know
you, but I can't say I do, much as I'd like to
oblige a lady that I'm bound to respect, as,
according to the other gents in long-tailed coats,
I'm married to her. But they say I was a
missionary, and now I'm a seaman again, and
maybe you don't care for those that follow the
sea."
</p>
<p>
"I don't mind anything," sobbed Susan, who
was wondering if she might tell her husband
that she loved him and would not care if he
were a dustman. But somehow it did not seem
quite proper to speak in that way to a man who
didn't know her.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, please, don't cry," said Ruddle in great
distress. "When a lady cries I never know
what to do."
</p>
<p>
"I think I'm almost glad you d-don't," said
Susan, and she smiled on him through her tears,
and looked very beautiful.
</p>
<p>
"The 'old man' was right," said Tom Ruddle,
"she's as beautiful as a picture, and just the
kind I like. I don't think I could have bin'
very dotty when I married her, and I wish I
remembered somethin' about it. If I say I
think she is pretty, I wonder whether she will
be mad and think it a liberty. I think I'll
try. They mostly like it."
</p>
<p>
He approached her slowly.
</p>
<p>
"If I don't know you, what may I call you?"
he asked diffidently.
</p>
<p>
Mrs. Ruddle gave a gasp.
</p>
<p>
"Don't you know my name? Oh, how
very dreadful! I'm Susan, and you used to
call me Dilly Duck."
</p>
<p>
"Did I?" asked Ruddle. "And why did I
do that?"
</p>
<p>
Susan said she didn't know, but supposed that
it was because he liked her very much.
</p>
<p>
"But I like you very much now," said Ruddle,
"I really do; and I think you are very pretty,
ma'am, if I may say so, and the situation is very
awkward. I hope I ain't too forward, which has
never been my way with ladies, I assure you."
</p>
<p>
As it had taken Susan over a year to encourage
him to the point of proposing, she felt sure that
he was speaking the solid truth, and it touched
her deeply.
</p>
<p>
"I'm very glad you think I'm pretty," she
said with the most charming modesty. "If—oh,
if you think so, perhaps you are not sorry
that you are married."
</p>
<p>
"But I don't feel married," urged Ruddle
desperately, "and I don't know what to do
about it. It's by far the awkwardest situation
I was ever in by long chalks, and it beats me,
it fair beats me."
</p>
<p>
But surely there was a way out, thought
Susan, and she wondered whether as his wife
she might not suggest it.
</p>
<p>
"But you like me?"
</p>
<p>
"Oh, yes, to be sure," said Ruddle, "and I
quite understand how I came to marry you.
That is, I can understand how I wanted to,
but what fair licks me is what you saw in me.
Perhaps it was my bein' a long-tailed parson.
Was it, now?"
</p>
<p>
"Not in the least," said Susan stoutly, "it
was because you were you."
</p>
<p>
"But now I ain't what I was, and you must
find it very embarrassing, ma'am."
</p>
<p>
"What I find embarrassing is your calling me
'ma'am,'" said Susan, with a snap that made
Ruddle see that the skipper was right in other
ways than his judgment of the lady's beauty.
</p>
<p>
"Very well," said Tom Ruddle in a great
hurry, "I'll call you Susan if you like."
</p>
<p>
"Of course I like," said Susan; "and if you
like you can call me Dilly Duck too."
</p>
<p>
But though Ruddle was much encouraged, he
could not go so far as that all at once.
</p>
<p>
"If you won't, you might at anyrate sit down
near me," said the fair Circe with the golden
hair. And Tom sat down gingerly.
</p>
<p>
"I don't know what is to be done," said he
in a melancholy way. "I suppose you agree
with me, ma'am,—Susan, I mean,—that it is
very awkward and most unusual? Looking it
fair and square, I don't see a way out, unless——"
</p>
<p>
"Unless what?" asked Susan, with her eyes
on the deck. She herself had an idea of the
way out, but she wanted him to find it.
</p>
<p>
"It's very odd that I should feel as I do,
as we have been married," said Ruddle; "but
I'm that took aback by the facts as they show
up against my present lights, that I seem in a
dream, like as if I had sternway on me and
was in a regular tangle. Tell me, when I was
a missionary was I much afraid of you?"
</p>
<p>
Susan sighed and took him by the arm.
</p>
<p>
"I think you were a little afraid sometimes,
Tom, especially if I was cross with you."
</p>
<p>
"Ah, I dessay," said her husband. "And if
I was scared of you at times when I knew you,
it seems natural, don't it, that I should be worse
scared of you now that I don't?"
</p>
<p>
"But you aren't really frightened of me,
darling, are you?" asked Susan, once more
turning on the water-works.
</p>
<p>
"When you cry and call me that," said
Ruddle, "I don't know where I am, and I
want to——"
</p>
<p>
"You want to what?" asked Susan in the
sweetest voice.
</p>
<p>
"I—I don't quite know," stammered Ruddle.
</p>
<p>
"I know," said Susan triumphantly.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, no, you can't," said Ruddle in great haste.
"I'm certain you can't, for it ain't possible."
</p>
<p>
But Susan lifted her sea-blue eyes to his and
shook her head.
</p>
<p>
"I do know, Tom. You want to kiss me."
</p>
<p>
Tom gasped and stared at her. "Well, you
are clever," he said, with the greatest air of
admiration. "I don't believe that any other
woman would have guessed it."
</p>
<p>
And Susan sat waiting.
</p>
<p>
"Well?" she said at last.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, may I?" asked Tom.
</p>
<p>
"Of course you may," said Susan, once more
looking at the deck. And he kissed her, and
then took her in his arms while she wept.
</p>
<p>
"And you are sure you love me again?" she
asked.
</p>
<p>
"It's most wonderful," said Tom, "but now
I come to think of it, I feel as if I had always
loved you, and no other woman can as much
as get a look in. There was a girl in London
that thought I was goin' to tie up alongside,
but she's away off it, and I'll never marry anyone
but you."
</p>
<p>
Susan wisely forbore at that moment to make
any inquiries about this other girl, of whom
she had never heard till that moment, and she
put her golden head against her husband's
shoulder.
</p>
<p>
"I think I am quite happy, Tom," she said,
"though I am very sorry you don't remember
how happy we were when we were first married."
</p>
<p>
Tom shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"I'm sorry for that too," he replied, "but it
can't be helped, and we'll be happy yet if you
really love me enough to marry me again."
</p>
<p>
"But we are married, Tom," said Susan.
</p>
<p>
"You may be," said Tom, "but I haven't
the feelings of it, and I mean to ask that long-tail
to tie us up again, so that there can be no
mistake about it. What do you say?"
</p>
<p>
Susan said he was a darling, and that she loved
him more than ever, and was willing to be
married to him a thousand times if he wanted it.
</p>
<p>
"And you don't mind my bein' a sailor instead
of a missionary?" asked Tom.
</p>
<p>
"I much prefer it, so long as you don't go
to sea," said Susan; and leaving that to be
arranged later, Tom Ruddle called the curious
Chadwick from his cabin.
</p>
<p>
"I've fixed it up," said Tom triumphantly.
"I've fixed it to rights, sir. My wife is goin'
to marry me again, and we'd be much obliged
if you would perform the ceremony."
</p>
<p>
"It seems very irregular," said Chadwick,
"but considering the very peculiar circumstances
I've no objection to make. It is really
very wonderful. I congratulate you both. I
must call the captain and tell him about it."
</p>
<p>
When the second mate came on deck the
'old man' went below. As soon as he grasped
the situation he turned to Susan with a grin.
</p>
<p>
"You brought him to his bearings pretty quick,
ma'am, and I congratulate you. But then a
pretty woman like you ain't the sort to go long
a-beggin'. I knew you'd fetch him! When
I described you to him, me bein' a judge of
female beauty, I saw how it would be. Who's
goin' to do the new hitching?"
</p>
<p>
Mr. Chadwick said he was going to do it.
</p>
<p>
"It's the first time I ever married the same
couple twice," he said; and Brother Blithers
sat in the background and said it was uncanonical.
But no one paid any attention to Blithers. The
other missionaries chipped in with their
congratulations, and said that they hoped Ruddle
would still be one of them.
</p>
<p>
"Thank you, gentlemen," said Ruddle, "but
I have too much admiration for you to think
I can be one of you again. I have a cousin that's
a shipowner, and when he finds that I'm alive
and in my right sea senses, he'll give me a ship,
for though I've never been skipper of anythin'
yet, I hold a master's certificate. And my wife
will go to sea with me."
</p>
<p>
"Darling, I'll go anywhere with you," whispered
Susan. And then they were married, while
the gale roared about them, and the good old
<i>Ocean Wave</i> rode it out under a goose-winged
main-topsail as comfortably as a duck in a
puddle.
</p>
<p>
"It's all very wonderful," said Ruddle, as
he went on deck at four o'clock to keep his watch.
The 'old man' said that it was.
</p>
<p>
"All the same I knew she'd fetch you," said
Gray. "I think the worst of it is over. We'll
be makin' sail in the mornin'. As this is your
weddin'-day, Mr. Ruddle, I'll keep your watch
to-night."
</p>
<p>
"Thank you, sir," said Ruddle. "Lord,
what a wonderful world it is."
</p>
<p>
Mrs. Ruddle said so too.
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /></p>
<p><a id="chap05"></a></p>
<h3>
THE CAPTAIN OF THE <i>ULLSWATER</i>
</h3>
<p>
There were enemies of Captain Amos Brown
who said that he was a liar. He certainly
had a vivid imagination, or a memory for a
more romantic career than falls to the lot of
most at sea or ashore.
</p>
<p>
"By the time we make Callao, Mr. Wardle,"
said the skipper to his new mate, as they lay
in Prince's Dock, Liverpool, "I expect to be able
to tell you something of my life, which has been
a very remarkable one."
</p>
<p>
"You don't say so, sir," said Mr. Wardle,
who, as it happened, had heard nothing about
the skipper, and was innocently prepared to
swallow quite a deal. "You don't say so, sir."
</p>
<p>
"I do say so," replied the skipper. "It has
been a most remarkable career from first to
last. Wonders happen to me, Mr. Wardle, so
that when I am at sea I just know that something
will occur that is strange. I have a collection
of binoculars, with inscriptions on them
for saving lives at sea, that would surprise you.
They have been given me by almost every Government
of any importance under the sun."
</p>
<p>
"That must be very gratifyin', sir," said the
mate.
</p>
<p>
"It gets monotonous," said the skipper with
a yawn. "At times I wish foreign Governments
had more imagination. They never seem to
think two pair of glasses enough for any man.
And the silver-mounted sextants I possess are
difficult to stow away in my house. If you
don't mind the inscription to me on it, I'll give
you a sextant presented to me by France,
Mr. Wardle, if I can remember to bring it with me
from home next time."
</p>
<p>
Mr. Wardle said he should be delighted to
own it, and said, further, that the inscription
would naturally give it an added interest. At
this the skipper yawned again, and said that he
was tired of inscriptions.
</p>
<p>
"The next lot I pick up I'll request not to give
my name," he said. "My wife, Mr. Wardle,
gets tired of keeping a servant specially to
polish 'to Captain Brown,' with a lot of
complimentary jaw to follow that makes her tired.
She knows what I am, Mr. Wardle, and doesn't
require to be reminded of it by falling over a
gold-mounted sextant every time she turns round.
A woman even of a greedy mind can easily
get palled with sextants, and a woman sees no
particular use in them when they take up room
that she wants to devote to heirlooms in her
family. Before we get to Callao I'll tell you
all about my wife, and how I came to marry
her. It is a romantic story. She belongs to
a noble family. She is the most beautiful
woman that you ever set eyes on. I'll tell you
all about it before we get to Callao. I've always
been a very attractive man to the other sex,
Mr. Wardle. She's rather jealous, too, though
she belongs to a noble family. I understand
in noble families it isn't good taste to be jealous,
but she is. However, I must write to her now, or
I shall have a letter from her at Callao that would
surprise you, if by that time I know you well
enough to show it to you. And now, what
were you saying about those three cases marked
P.D., and consigned to Manuel Garcia?"
</p>
<p>
Mr. Wardle told him what he had been
saying about the cases marked P.D. and consigned
to Manuel Garcia, and it was settled what
was to be done with them. The skipper said
that he wished they were full of his binoculars
and diamond-mounted sextants, and also his
gold watches with fulsome inscriptions on them,
and that they were consigned to Davy Jones.
</p>
<p>
"And this is a letter for you, sir," said the
mate. The skipper opened it.
</p>
<p>
"From my wife," he said, and then he swore.
</p>
<p>
"Another pair of binoculars from the Swedish
Government," he groaned. "I shall write and
say that I would rather have a suit of clothes,
and that if there must be an inscription on them
will they put it where it can't be seen. The
German Government once did that for me, but
they put the inscription in good English on
the collar, and I found it very inconvenient,
for strangers would come and breathe in my
neck while they read it."
</p>
<p>
Mr. Wardle went away to ask the second mate
what he thought of the skipper. He sighed,
and the second mate laughed. The second
mate was an unbelieving dog and a merry one.
When it came six o'clock they had a wash,
and put on clean clothes, and went up town
together, and had a friendly drink at a well-known
public-house which was a great resort for mates
and second mates, though a skipper rarely put
his nose inside it.
</p>
<p>
"I wonder what kind of a chap the skipper
is, after all," said Humphries the second mate.
"It seems to me, sir, that he is a holy terror
of a liar, and no mistake."
</p>
<p>
"Oh, I shouldn't like to say that," replied
Wardle. "I do, however, think he exaggerates
and puts it on a bit thick. That isn't bein' a
liar. I daresay he has saved life at sea. He
wouldn't have offered me a silver-mounted
sextant if he hadn't several."
</p>
<p>
"I shall believe you will get it when I see
you with it," said Jack Humphries. "In my
opinion Captain Amos Brown is a first-class
liar."
</p>
<p>
Perhaps he spoke a little too loudly for a public
place, though that public place was a billiard-room
with four second mates playing a
four-handed game, and making as much row over it
as if they were picking up the bunt of the
fore-sail in a gale of wind. He was overheard by
the only old man in the room.
</p>
<p>
"Did I hear you mention someone called
Amos Brown?" asked the old chap sitting next
to him.
</p>
<p>
"I did, sir," said the second mate of the
<i>Ullswater</i>. "Do you know him?"
</p>
<p>
"I had an Amos Brown as an apprentice with
me when I commanded the <i>Samuel Plimsoll</i>,"
replied the old gentleman, "and he was a very
remarkable lad. I think I heard you say that
this one was a liar?"
</p>
<p>
"I did," said Humphries; "though perhaps
I shouldn't have done so, as I'm second mate with
him now, sir."
</p>
<p>
The old boy shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"I won't tell him. But it surely must be
the same. The Brown I knew was an awful
liar, and I've seen many in my time, gentlemen."
</p>
<p>
He asked them to drink with him, and they
did it willingly. To know the one-time skipper
of the old <i>Samuel Plimsoll</i> was something worth
while, seeing that she had once held the record
for a day's run. And if his Brown was theirs
it was a chance not to be missed. They took
their drinks, and asked him to tell them all
about Amos Brown.
</p>
<p>
"He went overboard in a gale of wind and
saved another boy who couldn't swim," said
the stranger, "and when we got them back on
board, and he could speak, the very first thing
he said was that he had seventeen medals from
the Royal Humane Society for saving other
lives. Does that sound like your man?"
</p>
<p>
Wardle told him about the binoculars and
gold watches and silver-mounted sextants.
</p>
<p>
"Ah, he's the man," said the old skipper.
"Don't you think because he gasses that he
hasn't pluck. I'd not be surprised to hear
that there is some truth in what he says. I've
known one man with four pairs of inscribed
binoculars. I daresay Captain Brown has a
pair or two. When you see him, tell him that
you met Captain Gleeson, who used to command
the <i>Samuel Plimsoll</i>. And as I'm goin' now,
I don't mind owning that I'm the man that
has the four pairs of binoculars, gentlemen."
</p>
<p>
He bade them good-night, and Humphries
said when he had gone that he was probably
as big a liar as the skipper, and had never seen
the <i>Samuel Plimsoll</i>.
</p>
<p>
"And as for Brown bein' a hero," added
the second mate, "I simply don't believe it. A
liar can't be brave."
</p>
<p>
This was a large and youthful saying, and
Wardle, who was not so young as his subordinate,
had his doubts of it.
</p>
<p>
"I rather think the captain is all right," he
said. "I'll ask him to-morrow if he was ever
in the <i>Samuel Plimsoll</i>."
</p>
<p>
They were at sea before he got a chance to
do so.
</p>
<p>
"The <i>Samuel Plimsoll</i>? well, I should say so!"
said the skipper. "And you actually met dear
old Gleeson! Why, Mr. Wardle, he was the
man that set me on makin' this collection of
inscribed articles. Bar myself he is the one
man in the whole merchant service with more
than he can do with. His native town has a
department in its museum especially devoted
to what he has given them in that way. His
wife refused to give them house-room, and I
don't blame her. I saved most of the crew in
that dear old hooker at one time or another,
went overboard after them in gales of wind.
They got to rely on me and grew very careless.
I often told them that I wouldn't go after any
more, but when you see a poor chap drownin'
it is difficult to stay in the dry and let him."
</p>
<p>
"Ah," said Wardle, "he did speak about
your savin' one."
</p>
<p>
The skipper cast a quick look at him, and
then laughed.
</p>
<p>
"One, indeed," he said contemptuously. "Why
I saved the whole of the mate's watch, the mate
included; and on three other occasions I was
hauled out of my bunk to go after one of the
starboard watch. The only thing I have against
old Gleeson is that he was jealous when he saw
I was likely to knock his collection of medals
and binoculars into a cocked-hat. One, indeed!
I've saved seventy men, boys, and women, by
goin' in after 'em myself; and somethin' like
forty-five crews by skilful seamanship in the
face of unparalleled difficulties. I wish I could
have a talk with Gleeson."
</p>
<p>
"He said you were one of the bravest lads
he ever met, sir," said Wardle.
</p>
<p>
The skipper's face softened.
</p>
<p>
"Did he now? Well, that was nice of him,
but I think he might have told you about more
than one I saved."
</p>
<p>
"And he said he had only four pairs of
binoculars given him by foreign Governments,"
added Wardle.
</p>
<p>
"That is his false modesty," said Captain
Brown. "He has an idea that if he told the truth
he would not be believed. I don't care who
doesn't believe me, Mr. Wardle. If surprisin'
things occur to a man why should he not relate
them? There's my wife, for instance, one of
the nobility, a knight's daughter! I know
men that wouldn't mention it for fear of not
bein' believed they had married so far above
them. She is the most beautiful woman in the
three kingdoms, to say nothin' of Europe. I
know men that it would seem like braggin' in
to say that, but when you get to know me, and
know that speakin' the truth isn't out of gear
with my natural modesty, you will see why I
mention it so freely."
</p>
<p>
In the course of the next few days Captain
Amos Brown mentioned a good many things
freely that redounded to the credit of himself
and his family, and he did it so nicely, with such
an engaging air of innocent and delightful
candour, that poor Wardle did not know whether
he was shipmates with the most wonderful
man on earth or the most magnificent liar.
</p>
<p>
"I don't know where I am," he confided
in his junior.
</p>
<p>
"I know where <i>I</i> am," said the graceless
second greaser. "I am with a skipper with
as much jaw as a sheep's head, and if he said
it was raining I should take off my oilskins. He's
the biggest braggart and liar I ever met, sir."
</p>
<p>
"I cannot listen to you sayin' such things,"
said the mate.
</p>
<p>
"I beg your pardon for doin' so," replied
Humphries, "but the 'old man' is a scorcher,
and I can't help seein' it."
</p>
<p>
To a less prejudiced observer it must have
been obvious that there were many fine qualities
in Captain Amos Brown. He inspected the
cooking of the men's food at intervals which
annoyed the cook and kept him up to his work.
When he went his rounds he saw that things
were shipshape even in the deckhouse. The
men for'ard said he might be a notorious liar,
as they heard from the steward, but they said
he looked like a man and a seaman. Mr. Wardle
found him as smart a navigator as he had ever
sailed with, and before long was learning
mathematics from him.
</p>
<p>
"No officer need be ashamed of takin' a
wrinkle from me, Mr. Wardle," said the skipper,
after giving him a lesson in star observations
that made the mate sit up. "The Astronomer
Royal himself owned to me that I could give
him pounds and a beating at a great deal of
mathematics. I love it, there is something so
fine and free about it. I go sailin' over the sea
of the calculus with both sheets aft. He is
goin' to publish some observations of mine
about the imperfections of the sextant. They
were brought to my notice by my series of
silver-mounted ones. I'm inventin' a new one
compensated for all different temperatures."
</p>
<p>
And yet it was quite true that, as far as Wardle
went with him, a better and clearer-headed
teacher could not be found.
</p>
<p>
"I shall end in believing every word he says,"
thought the mate.
</p>
<p>
And if the mate found him his master in
navigation, Humphries found that there wasn't a
trick of practical seamanship that wasn't at his
finger-ends, from cutting out a jib to a double
Matthew Walker on a four-stranded rope, which
the skipper could almost do with his eyes shut.
</p>
<p>
"Everything is all the same to me,
Mr. Humphries," said the skipper calmly. "I'm
a born pilot, and I can handle every rig as easy
as if I'd been born in 'em. I can sail a scow
or a schooner, and every kind of sailing-boat
from a catamaran to an Arab dhow. And at
steam I'm just as good."
</p>
<p>
Humphries did not believe a word of it, and
used to read up old-fashioned seamanship in
order to pose him. He never did, and the
most out-of-date sea-riddle was to the skipper
as easy as slinging a nun-buoy.
</p>
<p>
"He beats me, I own," said the second mate.
"He's the best at all-round sailorizin' that I
ever sailed with."
</p>
<p>
The men for'ard said the same. And the bo'son,
who was a very crusty beast from Newcastle,
was of opinion that what the 'old man' did
not know about ships was not worth knowing.
</p>
<p>
"I'm goin' to believe 'im hif so be 'e says
'e's bin to the moon," said one cockney. "But
for hall we knows the 'old man' may not show
hup and shine as 'e does now w'en it's 'ard
weather. I was shipmet wiv a skipper once
that was wonderful gassy so long's it was
topmast stuns'l weather, but when it blew a
gale 'e crawled into 'is bunk like a sick stooard,
and there 'e stayed till the sun shone."
</p>
<p>
They soon had a chance of seeing whether
the skipper was a fair-weather sailor or not.
They had taken an almighty time to get to
the south'ard of the Bay of Biscay, for it had
been almost as calm as a pond all the way from
the Tuscar. Now the barometer began to
fall in a steady, business-like way that looked
as if it meant work, while a heavy swell came
rolling up from the south. The dawn next
morning was what ladies would have called
beautiful, for it was full of wonderful colour,
and reached in a strange glory right to the zenith.
It afforded no joy, artistic or otherwise, to
anyone on board the <i>Ullswater</i>, as she rolled in the
swell with too little wind to steady her. The
watch below came out before breakfast, and looked
at the scarlet and gold uneasily. There was
a tremendously dark cloud on the horizon, and
the high dawn above it was alone a threat of
wind. The clouds, that were lighted by the
hidden sun, were hard and oily; they had no
loose edges, the colour was brilliant but opaque.
To anyone who could read the book of the
sky the signs were as easy as the south cone.
They meant 'very heavy weather from the
south and west.' The skipper looked a deal
more happy than he had done before. His
eyes were clear and bright; there was a ring
in his voice which encouraged everybody; he
walked the poop rubbing his hands as if he was
enjoying himself, as he undoubtedly was. He
shortened the <i>Ullswater</i> down in good time,
but set his three t'gallan's'ls over the reefed
topsails, and hung on to them until squalls
began to come out of the south which threatened
to save all trouble of furling them. By
noon the sun was out of sight under a heavy
grey pall, and the sea got up rapidly as the wind
veered into the west of south. An hour later
it was blowing enough to make it hard to hear
anyone speak, and he roared the most
dreadful and awe-inspiring lies into the ear of his
mate.
</p>
<p>
"This is goin' to be quite a breeze, Mr. Wardle,"
he shouted joyously, "but I don't think the
weather nowadays is ever what it was when I
was young. I've been hove to in the Bay for
three weeks at a time. And once we were on
our beam ends for a fortnight, and all we ate all
that time was one biscuit each. I was so thin
at the finish that I had to carry weights in
my pocket to keep myself from bein' blown
overboard. Oh, this is nothin'! We can hang
on to this till the wind is sou'-west, and then
maybe we'll heave to."
</p>
<p>
By the middle of the afternoon watch the
<i>Ullswater</i> was hanging on to a gale on the
port-tack with her main hatch awash, and the crowd
for'ard had come to the conclusion that for
carrying sail the 'old man' beat any American
Scotchman they had ever heard of. When
he at last condescended to heave her to, all hands,
after wearing her, had a job with the fore and
mizzen-topsails that almost knocked the stuffing
out of them, as they phrased it. The skipper,
however, told them that they had done very
well, and told the steward to serve out grog.
As the owners of the <i>Ullswater</i> were teetotallers,
and about as economical as owners are made,
this grog was at the skipper's own expense.
When they had got it down, the entire crowd
said that they would believe anything the skipper
said henceforth. They went for'ard and enjoyed
themselves, while the old hooker lay to with
a grummet on her wheel, and the great south-wester
howled across the Bay. If the main-topsail
hadn't been as strong as the grog and
the skipper's yarns, it would have been blown
out of the bolt-ropes before dark, for the way
the wind blew then made the 'old man' own at
supper-time that it reminded him of the days
of his youth.
</p>
<p>
"But you never will catch me heavin' to
under anythin' so measly as a tarpaulin' in the
rigging," said Captain Amos Brown, with his
mouth full of beef and his leg round the leg
of the table, as the <i>Ullswater</i> climbed the rising
seas and dived again like a swooping frigate-bird.
"I like to have my ship under some
kind of command however it blows. One can
never tell, Mr. Humphries, when one may need
to make sail to save some of our fellow-creatures.
As yet neither of you two gentlemen have got
as much as the cheapest pair of binoculars out
of our own Board of Trade or a foreign
Government. With me you'll have your chance to
go home to your girl and chuck somethin' of
that sort into her lap, and make her cry with
joy. I saved my own wife, who is the most
beautiful woman in the world, and weighs eleven
stone, and has for years, and I got a sextant
and a nobleman's daughter at one fell swoop.
Oh, I've been a lucky man."
</p>
<p>
"How did you save your wife, sir?" asked
Humphries, who was almost beginning to believe
what the skipper said.
</p>
<p>
"You may well ask, and I can't tell," replied
the skipper proudly. "I hardly remember how
it was, for when I get excited I do things which
kind friends of mine say are heroic, and I can't
remember 'em. But so far as I can recall it,
I swam near a mile in a sea like this, and took
command of a dismasted barque with most of
the crew disabled through havin' their left legs
broke, a most remarkable fact. There wasn't
a sound left leg in the whole crowd except my
wife's, and the only thing out of order was that
the captain's left leg was broke in two places.
I took charge of her, and put splints on their
legs, and we were picked up by a tug from
Queenstown and towed in there, and the doctors all
said I was the neatest hand with splints they
had ever seen. And I married my wife then
and there with a special license, and I've never
regretted it from that day to this. By Jove,
though, doesn't it blow!"
</p>
<p>
How the "nobleman's" daughter came to be on
board the dismasted barque he did not explain,
and he shortly afterwards turned in, leaving orders
to be called if it blew much harder.
</p>
<p>
"And when I say much harder, Mr. Wardle,
I mean much harder. Please don't disturb
me for a potty squall."
</p>
<p>
As a result of these orders he was not called
till the early dawn, when it was blowing nearly
hard enough to unship the main capstan. Even
then Wardle would not have ventured to rouse
him if he had not fancied that he saw some
dismasted vessel far to leeward in the mirk
and smother of the storm.
</p>
<p>
"I think I saw a vessel just now down to
loo'ard," screamed the mate as the skipper
made a bolt for him under the weather cloth on
the mizzen rigging. "Dismasted I think, sir."
</p>
<p>
He saw the 'old man's' eye brighten and snap.
</p>
<p>
"Where did you say?" he roared; and
before he could hear they had to wait till a
singing squall went over.
</p>
<p>
"To loo'ard," said the mate again; and the
next moment the skipper saw what he looked for.
</p>
<p>
"Not dismasted, on her beam ends," he
shouted. And in a few more minutes, as the grey
dawn poured across the waste of howling seas,
Wardle saw that the 'old man' was right.
</p>
<p>
"Poor devils," he said, "it's all over with
them."
</p>
<p>
The word that there was a vessel in difficulties
soon brought out the watch on deck, who were
taking shelter in the deckhouse. As it was
close on four o'clock the watch below soon
joined them, and presently Humphries came
up on the poop.
</p>
<p>
"Ah!" said the second mate, "they are
done for, poor chaps."
</p>
<p>
This the skipper heard, and he turned round
sharply and roared, "What, with me here?
Oh, not much!"
</p>
<p>
He turned to Wardle.
</p>
<p>
"Here's your chance for a pair of inscribed
binoculars," he said. "I believe she's French,
and the French Government have generous
minds in the way of fittings and inscriptions,
Mr. Wardle."
</p>
<p>
"But in this sea, sir?" stammered the
mate. "Why, a boat couldn't live in it for a
second, even if we launched one safe, sir."
</p>
<p>
"I've launched boats in seas to which this
was a mere calm," said the skipper ardently.
"And if I can't get you or Humphries to go I
shall go myself."
</p>
<p>
"You don't mean it, sir," said the mate;
and then the skipper swore many powerful
oaths that he did mean it.
</p>
<p>
"In the meantime we're driftin' down to
her," said Captain Brown, "for she is light
and high out of the water and we are as deep
as we can be."
</p>
<p>
It soon got all over the ship that the 'old
man' meant to attempt a rescue of those in
distress, and there was a furious argument
for'ard as to whether it could be done, and
whether any captain was justified in asking
his crew to man a boat in such a sea. The
unanimous opinion of all the older men was
that it couldn't be done. The equally unanimous
opinion of all the younger ones was that
if the skipper said it could be done he would
go in the first boat himself rather than be beaten.
</p>
<p>
"Well, it will be a case for volunteers," said
one old fo'c'sle man, "and when I volunteer to
drown my wife's husband I'll let all you chaps
know."
</p>
<p>
And that was very much the opinion of
Wardle, who was a married man too. As for
Humphries, he was naturally reckless, and was
now ready to do almost anything the skipper
asked.
</p>
<p>
"He may be a liar," said the second mate,
"but I think he's all right, and I like him."
</p>
<p>
Now it was broad daylight, and the vessel
was within a mile of them. Sometimes she
was quite hidden, and sometimes she was flung
up high on the crest of a wave. Heavy green
seas broke over her as she lay with her
starboard yardarms dipping. She had been
running under a heavy press of canvas when she
broached to, and went over on her beam ends,
for even yet the sheets of the upper main-topsail
were out to the lower yardarm, and though
the starboard half of the sail had blown out of
the bolt ropes, the upper or port yardarm still
was sound and as tight as a drum with the
wind.
</p>
<p>
"If she hasn't sunk yet she'll swim a while
longer," said the skipper of the <i>Ullswater</i>, as
the day grew lighter and lighter still. "Show
the British ensign, Mr. Humphries, and cheer
them up if they're alive. I wish I could tell
them that I am here. I'll bet they know me.
I'm famous with the French from Dunkirk to
Toulon. At Marseilles they call me Mounseer
Binoculaire, and stand in rows to see me pass."
</p>
<p>
The lies that he told now no one had any
ears for. Wardle owned afterwards that he
was afraid that the 'old man' would ask him
to go in command of a boat, and, like the old
fo'c'sle man, he was thinking a good deal of his
wife's husband. But all the while Captain
Amos Brown was telling whackers that would
have done credit to Baron Munchausen, he
was really thinking of how he was to save those
whose passage to a port not named in any bills
of lading looked almost certain. By this time
the foreigner was not far to leeward of them.
</p>
<p>
"No one could blame us if we let 'em go,"
shrieked the 'old man' in his mate's ear as
the wind lulled for one brief moment. "But
I never think of what other men would do,
Mr. Wardle. I remember once in a cyclone in
the Formosa Channel——"
</p>
<p>
What dreadful deed of inspired heroism he
had performed in a cyclone in the Formosa
Channel Wardle never knew, for the wind cut
the words from the skipper's lips and sent them
in a howling shower of spray far to loo'ard.
But his last words became audible.
</p>
<p>
"I was insensible for the best part of a month
after it," screamed Amos Brown. "The usual
... silver-mounted ... sickened ... wife as I said."
</p>
<p>
Then he caught the mate by the arm.
</p>
<p>
"We'll stand by 'em, Mr. Wardle. If I get
another sextant, as I suspect, I must put up
with it. Get the lifeboat ready, Mr. Wardle,
and get all the empty small casks and oil-drums
that you can and lash them under the thwarts
fore and aft. Make her so that she can't sink
and I'll go in her myself."
</p>
<p>
This fetched the blood into Wardle's face.
</p>
<p>
"That's my job, sir," he said shortly, for he
forgot all about his wife's husband at that moment.
</p>
<p>
"I know it," said the skipper, "but with your
permission I'll take it on myself, as I've had
so much experience in this sort of thing and
you've had none. And I tell you you'll have
to handle the <i>Ullswater</i> so as to pick us up as
we go to loo'ard, and it will be a job for a
seaman and no fatal error."
</p>
<p>
The mate swore softly and went away and
did as he was told. The men hung back a little
when he told them to get the boat ready for
launching, though they followed him when
they saw him begin to cast off the gear by which
she was made fast. But the old fo'c'sle man
had something to say.
</p>
<p>
"The captain ain't goin' to put a boat over
the side in a sea like this, is he, sir?"
</p>
<p>
Wardle snorted.
</p>
<p>
"You had better ask him," he replied savagely,
and then there was no more talk. He went
back to the poop and reported that the boat
was ready. He also reported that the men
were very unlikely to volunteer.
</p>
<p>
"They'll volunteer fast enough when they
know I'm goin' to ask nothin' of them that I
don't ask of myself," said the captain. "I
really think the wind is takin' off a little,
Mr. Wardle."
</p>
<p>
Perhaps it was, but if so the sea was a trifle
worse. But it seemed to the skipper and the
two mates that the French vessel was lower in
the water than she had been. She was getting
a pounding that nothing built by human hands
could stand for long.
</p>
<p>
"There's not much time to lose," said the
skipper.
</p>
<p>
Captain Amos Brown apparently knew his
business, and knew it, as far as boats were
concerned, in a way to make half the merchant
skippers at sea blush for their ignorance of one
of the finest points of seamanship. The skipper
had the crew aft under the break of the poop,
and came down to them himself. They huddled
in the space between the two poop-ladders and
looked very uneasy.
</p>
<p>
"Do any of you volunteer to try and save
those poor fellows to loo'ard of us?" asked the
'old man.' And no one said a word. They
looked at the sea and at each other with shifty
eyes, but not at him.
</p>
<p>
"Why, sir, 'tis our opinion that no boat
can't live in this sea," said the bo'son.
</p>
<p>
"I think it can," said the captain, "and I'm
goin' to try. Do any of you volunteer to
come with your captain? I ask no man to
do what I won't do myself."
</p>
<p>
There was something very fine about the liar
of the <i>Ullswater</i> as he spoke, and everyone knew
that now at least he was telling no lies.
</p>
<p>
"I'm wiv you, sir," said a young cockney,
who was the foulest mouthed young ruffian in
the ship, and had been talked to very severely
by his mates on that very point. It is not good
form for a youngster to use worse language than
his elders at sea. Some of the others looked at
him angrily, as if they felt that they had to
go now. A red-headed Irishman followed the
cockney, just as he had followed him into horrid
dens down by Tiger Bay.
</p>
<p>
"I'm with ye, too, sorr," said Mike.
</p>
<p>
"I'm only askin' for six," said the skipper.
Then the old fo'c'sle man, who had been so anxious
about his wife's husband, hooked a black quid
out of his back teeth and threw it overboard.
</p>
<p>
"I'll come, sir."
</p>
<p>
But now all the other young men spoke
together. The skipper had his choice, and he
took the unmarried ones.
</p>
<p>
He gave his orders now to the mate without
a touch of braggadocio.
</p>
<p>
"We'll run her off before the wind,
Mr. Wardle, and then quarter the sea and lower
away on the lee quarter. See that there is
a man on the weather quarter with oil, so as to
give us all the smooth you can. When we are
safe afloat give us your lee to work in all you
can, and hang her up in the wind to windward
of the wreck all you know. While you are there
don't spare oil; let it come down to her
and us. It is possible that we may not be able
to get a line to the wreck, but we'll go under
her stern and try. With all her yards and
gear in the sea it won't be possible to get right
in her lee, so we may have to call to them to
jump. My reckonin' is that we may pick up
some that way before we get too far to loo'ard.
When we get down close to her, fire the signal-gun
to rouse them up to try and help us. When
you see us well to loo'ard of the wreck, put your
helm up, and run down and give us your lee
again. If we miss her and have to try again,
we must beat to windward once more. But
that's anticipatin', ain't it? You can put your
helm up now, Mr. Wardle. Shake hands."
</p>
<p>
And they shook hands. Then the skipper
and his men took to the boat, which was ready
to lower in patent gear, with Humphries in
charge of it, and the <i>Ullswater</i> went off before
the wind. Then at a nod from the captain
she came up a little, till she quartered the sea
with very little way on her.
</p>
<p>
"Now, Mr. Humphries," said the skipper.
In ten seconds they hit the water fair and the
hooks disengaged. The oil that was being
poured over on the weather quarter helped
them for a moment, and even when they got
beyond its immediate influence they kept some
of the lee of the ship. They drifted down upon
the wreck, and rode the seas by pulling ahead
or giving her sternway till they were within
half a cable's length of the doomed vessel. At
that moment they fired the signal-gun on board
the <i>Ullswater</i>, and they saw some of the poor
chaps to loo'ard of them show their heads above
the rail. Then the full sweep of the storm struck
them. But the liar of the <i>Ullswater</i>, who had
saved more crews in worse circumstances than
he could count, actually whistled as he sat in
the stern-sheets with a steering oar in his hands.
To handle a boat in a heavy sea, with the wind
blowing a real gale, is a thing that mighty few
deepwater seamen are good at. But the skipper
of the <i>Ullswater</i> knew his business even then
as if he had been a Deal puntman, a North Sea
trawler, or a Grand Bank fisherman all his life.
The boat in which he made his desperate and
humane venture was double-ended like a whale-boat,
and she rode the seas for the most part
like a cork. In such a situation the great thing
is to avoid a sea breaking inboard, and
sometimes they pulled ahead, and sometimes backed
astern, so that when a heavy sea did break
it did so to windward or to loo'ard of them.
And yet a hundred times in the dreadful full
minutes that it took them to get down to the
wreck there were moments when those in the
boat and those in the <i>Ullswater</i> thought that
it was all over with them. Once a sea that no
one could have avoided broke over them, and
it was desperate work to bale her out. And the
roar of the wind deafened them; the seas raced
and hissed; they pulled or backed water with
their teeth clenched. Some of them thought
of nothing; others were sorry they had
volunteered, and looked at the captain furiously
while he whistled through his clenched teeth.
One cockney swore at him horribly in a thin
piping scream, and called him horrid names.
For this is the strange nature of man. But he
pulled as well as the others, and the skipper
smiled at him as his blasphemies cut the wind.
For the skipper saw a head over the rail of the
wreck, and he knew that there was work to
be done and that he was doing it, and that the
brave fool that cursed him was a man and was
doing his best. The words he spoke were such
as come out of a desperate mind, and out of a
man that can do things. They towed an oil-bag
to windward, but there was no oil to calm
the movements of the soul at such a time.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, damn you, pull!" said Amos Brown.
He ceased to whistle, and cursed with a sudden
and tremendous frenzy that was appalling.
The cursing cockney looked up at him with
open mouth.
</p>
<p>
By the 'old man's' side in the stern-sheets
there was a coil of rope attached to a little grapnel.
If the men still alive on board the French barque
were capable of motion they might be able to
make a rope fast, but after hours of such a
storm, while they were lashed under the weather
bulwarks, it was possible that they were almost
numb and helpless. Now the boat came sweeping
down by the stern of the barque; they saw
her smashed rudder beating to and fro, and
heard the battering-ram of the south-west seas
strike on her weather side.
</p>
<p>
"Back water!" roared the skipper, for astern
of them a big sea roared and began to lift a
dreadful lip. They held the boat, and the 'old
man' kept it straight on the roaring crest, and
at that moment they were lifted high, and saw
beyond the hull of the barque the white waste
of driven seas. Then they went down, down,
down; and when they were flung up again the
skipper screamed to those on board, and as he
screamed he threw the grapnel at the gear of
the spanker, and as they surged past her stern
the hooks caught in the bight of her loosened
vangs. For all her gear was in a coil and tangle,
and the topping lifts of the gaff had parted.
The men backed water hard, and the boat hung
half in the lee of the wreck, but dangerously
near the wreck of the mizzen-topmast, which
had gone at the cap and swayed in the swash
of the seas. Now they saw the seamen whom
they had come to save, and no man of the boat's
crew could hereafter agree as to what happened
or the order of events. The skipper called
to the poor wretches, and one cut himself
adrift and slid down the sloping deck and struck
the lower rail with horrible force. They heard
him squeal, and then a sea washed him over to
them. He was insensible, and that was lucky,
for his leg was broken. Then they made out
that one of the survivors was the captain, and
they saw that he was speaking, though they
heard nothing. There were, it seemed, no more
than ten of the crew left, for they counted ten
with the one man that they had. But it seemed
that they moved slow, and the sea was worse
than ever. It boiled over the weather-rail
and then came over green, and all the men in
the boats yelled filthy oaths at the poor numb
wretches, and called them horrible names. The
Irishman prayed aloud to heaven and to all
the saints and to the Virgin, and then cursed so
awfully that the others fell into silence.
</p>
<p>
"Jump, jump!" screamed the skipper, and
another man slid down the deck and came
overboard for them. He went under, and got
his head cut open on a swaying block, and knew
nothing of it till he was dragged on board. Then
he wiped the blood from his eyes and fell to
weeping, whereon the swearing cockney, who
had been oddly silent since his eyes had met the
skipper's, cuffed him hard on the side of the
head, and said, "'Old your bloody row, you
bleedin' 'owler!" And then three of his mates
laughed as they watched their boat and fended
if off the wreck of the mizzen-mast with deadly
and preoccupied energy. The cockney took
out a foul handkerchief and dabbed it on the
bleeding man's head, and then threw the rag
at him with an oath, saying that a little blood
was nothing, and that he was a blasted Dago,
and, further, he'd feel sorry for him when he
was on board the <i>Ullswater</i>. Then another
man jumped and was swept under and past
them, and just as he was going the skipper
reached over and, grabbing him by the hair,
got him on board in a state of unconsciousness.
Then three of the poor fellows jumped at once,
two being saved and the third never showing
above the water again.
</p>
<p>
"As well now as wiv the rest of hus," said
the cockney, who had give the Dago his 'wipe,'
and he snivelled a little. "Hif I gets hout of
this I'm for stayin' in Rovver'ive all the rest
of my life."
</p>
<p>
Then they got another, and there were only
the French skipper and one more man left. It
was probably his mate, but he had a broken
arm and moved slow. The French captain got
a rope round him and slid him down to loo'ard.
But when he was half-way down the old chap
(he was at anyrate white-haired) lost his own
hold, and came down into the swash of the lee
scuppers with a run. He fell overboard, and
the Irishman got him by the collar. He was
lugged on board with difficulty, and lay down
on the bottom boards absolutely done for. The
other man didn't show up, and the men said
that he must be dead. They began talking all
at once, and the skipper, who was now up at
the bows of the boat, turned suddenly and cuffed
the Irishman hard, whereupon Mike drew his
sheath-knife, saying in a squeal, "You swine, I'll
kill you!" But the bo'son struck him with the
loom of his oar under the jaw, and nearly broke
it. He snatched his knife from him and threw
it overboard.
</p>
<p>
Now they saw the <i>Ullswater</i> right to windward
of the sinking barque, and some oil that they
poured into the sea came down to them, so
that the hiss of the sea was so much less that
it seemed as if silence fell on them. They
heard the Irishman say with difficulty as he
held his jaw—
</p>
<p>
"All right, my puggy, I'll have your blood."
</p>
<p>
He had lost his oar, and the other men were
wild with him. What they might have said
no one knows, but the skipper turned to them,
saying that he would go on board after the
last man. They all said at once that he
shouldn't. They gave him orders not to do it,
and their eyes were wild and fierce, for they
were strained and tired, and fear got hold of
them, making them feel chilly in the fierce
wind. They clung to the captain in their
minds. If he did not come back they would
never be saved, for now the boat was heavily
laden. They opened their mouths and said
'Oh, please, sir,' and then he jumped
overboard and went hand over hand along the
grapnel line and the tangle of the vangs. They
groaned, and the Irishman wagged his head
savagely, though no one knew what he meant,
least of all himself. They saw the 'old man'
clamber on board as a big sea broke over her,
and they lost sight of him in the smother of
it. They sat in the heaving boat as if they
were turned into stone, and then the Irishman
saw something in the sea and grabbed for it.
He hauled hard, and they cried out that the
skipper mustn't try it again. But as the
drowning man came to the surface they saw that it
was not the skipper after all, but the French
mate, and they said 'Oh, hell!' being of half
a mind to let him go. But the bo'son screamed
out something, and they hung on to a dead man's
legs, for to the dead man's hands the skipper
was clinging. They got him on board not
quite insensible, and the Irishman fell to weeping
over him.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, it's the brave bhoy you are," he said;
and then the skipper came to and vomited
some water.
</p>
<p>
"Hold on, what are you doin'?" he asked,
as he saw the two cockneys trying to heave
the dead man back in the sea. They said
that he was dead. The bo'son said that the
deader had only half a head, and couldn't
be alive in that condition. So they let the
body go, and the skipper woke right up and
was a man again. They hauled up to the
grapnel or near it, for they were strained enough
to do foolish things. Then they saw it was
silly and cut the line. They drifted to loo'ard
fast, and got out into the full force of the gale,
which howled horribly. They saw the <i>Ullswater</i>
lying to under her sturdy old maintop-sail,
and as soon as they saw her they were
seen by the second mate, who was up aloft with
his coat half torn off him. To get her off before
the wind quick they showed the head of the
foretopmast-staysail, which was promptly blown
out of the bolt ropes with a report they heard
in the boat like the dull sound of a far-off gun.
She squared away and came to the nor'-east,
and presently was to windward of them, and
in her lee they felt very warm and almost safe,
though they went up to the sky like a lark and
then down as if into a grave. And then they
saw their shipmates' faces, and the skipper
laughed oddly. The strain had told on him,
as it had on all of them, not least perhaps on
some of those who had not faced the greater
risks. And it seemed to the skipper that there
was something very absurd in Wardle's whiskers
as the wind caught them and wrapped them
in a kind of hairy smear across one weather-beaten
cheek. All those in the boat were now
quite calm; the excitement was on board the
<i>Ullswater</i>, and when the gale let them catch a
word of what the mate said, as he stood on the
rail with his arm about a backstay, they caught
the quality of strain.
</p>
<p>
"Ould Wardle is as fidgety as a fool," said
Mike the Irishman, as he still held on to his
jaw. "He'll be givin' someone the oncivil word
for knockin' the oar out o' me hand."
</p>
<p>
He sat with one hand to his face, with the
other, as he had turned round, he helped the
bo'son.
</p>
<p>
"What about your pullin' your knife on
the captain?" asked the bo'son.
</p>
<p>
Then Micky shook his head.
</p>
<p>
"Did I now? And he struck me, and he's a
brave lad," he said simply. But the hook of
the davit tackle dangled overhead as they were
flung skyward on a sea. There were davit
ropes fitted, and one slapped the Irishman
across the face.
</p>
<p>
"It's in the wars I am," he said; and then
there was a wind flurry that bore the <i>Ullswater</i>
almost over on them. The way was nearly
off her, and in another minute she would be
drifting and coming down on them.
</p>
<p>
"Now!" screamed the skipper, and they
hooked on and were hauled out and up.
</p>
<p>
"Holy Mother," said Mike, "and I'm not
drowned this trip!"
</p>
<p>
The boat was hauled on board, and when the
skipper's foot touched the deck he reeled.
Humphries caught him.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, steady, sir," said Humphries, as Mike
came up to them.
</p>
<p>
The captain stared at him, for he did not
remember striking him.
</p>
<p>
"It's the brrave man you are," said Mike
simply; "and you're the firrst man that I've tuk
a blow from since I was the length of my arm.
Oh, bhoys, it's the brrave man the skipper is."
</p>
<p>
The second mate pushed him away, and he
went like a child and lent a hand to help the
poor 'divils of Dagoes,' as he called those
who had been saved. The mate came and
shook hands with the captain. The tears ran
down Wardle's hairy face, and he could not
speak.
</p>
<p>
"I shall have another pair of binoculars
over this," said Captain Amos Brown with
quivering lips.
</p>
<p>
"You are a hero," bawled the mate as the
wind roared again in a blinding squall with
rain in it. The skipper flushed.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, it's nothin', this," he said. "Now in
the Bay of Bengal——"
</p>
<p>
The wind took that story to loo'ard, and no
one heard it. But they heard him wind up
with 'gold-mounted binoculars.'
</p>
<p class="t3">
* * * * * * *
</p>
<p>
A year later he got a pair from the great
French Republic. They were the first he ever
got.
</p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<p class="t3">
THE END
</p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<p class="t4">
<i>Printed by</i> MORRISON & GIBB LIMITED, <i>Edinburgh</i>
</p>
<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68796 ***</div>
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