Books: Many Cargoes
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W.W. Jacobs >> Many Cargoes
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"You're the only man I can trust," said the captain shortly. "When I
give you orders I know they'll be obeyed; it's your watch now."
He went out humming. Chrissie took up a book and sat down, utterly
ignoring the woebegone figure which stood the regulation three yards
from her, twisting its cap in its hands.
"I hope, miss," said the boatswain, after standing patiently for three-
quarters of an hour, "as 'ow you won't think I sought arter this 'ere
little job."
"No," said Chrissie, without looking up.
"I'm just obeying orders," continued the boatswain. "I always git let in
for these 'ere little jobs, somehow. The monkeys I've had to look arter
aboard ship would frighten you. There never was a monkey on the Monarch
but what I was in charge of. That's what a man gets through being
trustworthy."
"Just so," said Chrissie, putting down her book. "Well, I'm going into
the kitchen now; come along, nursie."
"'Ere, I say, miss!" remonstrated Tucker, flushing.
"I don't know how Susan will like you going in her kitchen," said
Chrissie thoughtfully; "however, that's your business."
The unfortunate seaman followed his fair charge into the kitchen, and,
leaning against the door-post, doubled up like a limp rag before the
terrible glance of its mistress.
"Ho!" said Susan, who took the state of affairs as an insult to the sex
in general; "and what might you be wanting?"
"Cap'n's orders," murmured Tucker feebly.
"I'm captain here," said Susan, confronting him with her bare arms
akimbo.
"And credit it does you," said the boatswain, looking round admiringly.
"Is it your wish, Miss Chrissie, that this image comes and stalks into
my kitchen as if the place belongs to him?" demanded the irate Susan.
"I didn't mean to come in in that way," said the astonished Tucker. "I
can't help being big."
"I don't want him here," said her mistress; "what do you think I want
him for?"
"You hear that?" said Susan, pointing to the door; "now go. I don't want
people to say that you come into this kitchen after me."
"I'm here by the cap'n's orders," said Tucker faintly. "I don't want to
be here--far from it. As for people saying that I come here after you,
them as knows me would laugh at the idea."
"If I had my way," said Susan, in a hard rasping voice, "I'd box your
ears for you. That's what I'd do to you, and you can go and tell the
cap'n I said so. Spy!"
This was the first verse of the first watch, and there were many verses.
To add to his discomfort he was confined to the house, as his charge
manifested no desire to go outside, and as neither she nor her aunt
cared about the trouble of bringing him to a fit and proper state of
subjection, the task became a labour of love for the energetic Susan. In
spite of everything, however, he stuck to his guns, and the indignant
Chrissie, who was in almost hourly communication with Metcalfe through
the medium of her faithful handmaiden, was rapidly becoming desperate.
On the fourth day, time getting short, Chrissie went on a new tack with
her keeper, and Susan, sorely against her will, had to follow suit.
Chrissie smiled at him, Susan called him Mr. Tucker, and Miss Polson
gave him a glass of her best wine. From the position of an outcast, he
jumped in one bound to that of confidential adviser. Miss Polson told
him many items of family interest, and later on in the afternoon
actually consulted him as to a bad cold which Chrissie had developed.
He prescribed half-a-pint of linseed oil hot, but Miss Polson favoured
chlorodyne. The conversation then turned on the deadly qualities of that
drug when taken in excess, of the fatal sleep in which it lulled its
victims. So disastrous were the incidents cited, that half an hour
later, when, her aunt and Susan being out, Chrissie took a small bottle
of chlorodyne from the mantel-piece, the boatswain implored her to try
his nastier but safer remedy instead.
"Nonsense!" said Chrissie, "I'm only going to take twenty drops--one--
two--three--"
The drug suddenly poured out in a little stream.
"I should think that's about it," said Chrissie, holding the tumbler up
to the light.
"It's about five hundred!" said the horrified Tucker. "Don't take that,
miss, whatever you do; let me measure it for you."
The girl waved him away, and, before he could interfere, drank off the
contents of the glass and resumed her seat. The boatswain watched her
uneasily, and taking up the phial carefully read through the directions.
After that he was not at all surprised to see the book fall from his
charge's hand on to the floor, and her eyes close.
"I knowed it," said Tucker, in a profuse perspiration, "I knowed it.
Them blamed gals are all alike. Always knows what's best. Miss Polson!
Miss Polson!"
He shook her roughly, but to no purpose, and then running to the door,
shouted eagerly for Susan. No reply forthcoming he ran to the window,
but there was nobody in sight, and he came back and stood in front of
the girl, wringing his huge hands helplessly. It was a great question
for a poor sailor-man. If he went for the doctor he deserted his post;
if he didn't go his charge might die. He made one more attempt to awaken
her, and, seizing a flower-glass, splashed her freely with cold water.
She did not even wince.
"It's no use fooling with it," murmured Tucker; "I must get the doctor,
that's all."
He quitted the room, and, dashing hastily downstairs, had already opened
the hall door when a thought struck him, and he came back again.
Chrissie was still asleep in the chair, and, with a smile at the clever
way in which he had solved a difficulty, he stooped down, and, raising
her in his strong arms, bore her from the room and downstairs. Then a
hitch occurred. The triumphant progress was marred by the behaviour of
the hall door, which, despite his efforts, refused to be opened, and,
encumbered by his fair burden, he could not for some time ascertain the
reason. Then, full of shame that so much deceit could exist in so fair
and frail a habitation, he discovered that Miss Polson's foot was
pressing firmly against it. Her eyes were still closed and her head
heavy, but the fact remained that one foot was acting in a manner that
was full of intelligence and guile, and when he took it away from the
door the other one took its place. By a sudden manoeuvre the wily Tucker
turned his back on the door, and opened it, and, at the same moment, a
hand came to life again and dealt him a stinging slap on the face.
"Idiot!" said the indignant Chrissie, slipping from his arms and
confronting him. "How dare you take such a liberty?"
The astonished boatswain felt his face, and regarded her open-mouthed.
"Don't you ever dare to speak to me again," said the offended maiden,
drawing herself up with irreproachable dignity. "I am disgusted with
your conduct. Most unbearable!"
"I was carrying you off to the doctor," said the boatswain." How was I
to know you was only shamming?"
"SHAMMING?" said Chrissie, in tones of incredulous horror. "I was
asleep. I often go to sleep in the afternoon."
The boatswain made no reply, except to grin with great intelligence as
he followed his charge upstairs again. He grinned at intervals until the
return of Susan and Miss Polson, who, trying to look unconcerned, came
in later on, both apparently suffering from temper, Susan especially.
Amid the sympathetic interruptions of these listeners Chrissie recounted
her experiences, while the boatswain, despite his better sense, felt
like the greatest scoundrel unhung, a feeling which was fostered by the
remarks of Susan and the chilling regards of Miss Poison.
"I shall inform the captain," said Miss Polson, bridling. "It's my
duty."
"Oh, I shall tell him," said Chrissie. "I shall tell him the moment he
comes in at the door."
"So shall I," said Susan; "the idea of taking such liberties!"
Having fired this broadside, the trio watched the enemy narrowly and
anxiously.
"If I've done anything wrong, ladies," said the unhappy boatswain, "I am
sorry for it. I can't say anything fairer than that, and I'll tell the
cap'n myself exactly how I came to do it when he comes in."
"Pah! tell-tale!" said Susan.
"Of course, if you are here to fetch and carry," said Miss Polson, with
withering emphasis.
"The idea of a grown man telling tales," said Chrissie scornfully.
"Baby!"
"Why, just now you were all going to tell him yourselves," said the
bewildered boatswain.
The two elder women rose and regarded him with looks of pitying disdain.
Miss Polson's glance said "Fool!' plainly; Susan, a simple child of
nature, given to expressing her mind freely, said "Blockhead!" with
conviction.
"I see 'ow it is," said the boatswain, after ruminating deeply. "Well, I
won't split, ladies. I can see now you was all in it, and it was a
little job to get me out of the house."
"What a head he has got," said the irritated Susan; "isn't it wonderful
how he thinks of it all! Nobody would think he was so clever to look at
him."
"Still waters run deep," said the boatswain, who was beginning to have a
high opinion of himself.
"And pride goes before a fall," said Chrissie; "remember that, Mr.
Tucker."
Mr. Tucker grinned, but, remembering the fable of the pitcher and the
well, pressed his superior officer that evening to relieve him from his
duties. He stated that the strain was slowly undermining a constitution
which was not so strong as appearances would warrant, and that his
knowledge of female nature was lamentably deficient on many important
points. "You're doing very well," said the captain, who had no intention
of attending any more Dorcases, "very well indeed; I am proud of you."
"It isn't a man's work," objected the boatswain. "Besides, if anything
happens you'll blame me for it."
"Nothing can happen," declared the captain confidently. "We shall make a
start in about four days now. You're the only man I can trust with such
a difficult job, Tucker, and I shan't forget you,"
"Very good," said the other dejectedly. "I obey orders, then."
The next day passed quietly, the members of the household making a great
fuss of Tucker, and thereby filling him with forebodings of the worst
possible nature. On the day after, when the captain, having business at
a neighbouring town, left him in sole charge, his uneasiness could not
be concealed.
"I'm going for a walk," said Chrissie, as he sat by himself, working out
dangerous moves and the best means of checking them; "would you care to
come with me, Tucker?"
"I wish you wouldn't put it that way, miss," said the boatswain, as he
reached for his hat.
"I want exercise," said Chrissie; "I've been cooped up long enough."
She set off at a good pace up the High Street, attended by her faithful
follower, and passing through the small suburbs, struck out into the
country beyond. After four miles the boatswain, who was no walker,
reminded her that they had got to go back.
"Plenty of time," said Chrissie, "we have got the day before us. Isn't
it glorious? Do you see that milestone, Tucker? I'll race you to it;
come along."
She was off on the instant, with the boatswain, who suspected treachery,
after her.
"You CAN run," she panted, thoughtfully, as she came in second; "we'll
have another one presently. You don't know how good it is for you,
Tucker."
The boatswain grinned sourly and looked at her from the corner of his
eye. The next three miles passed like a horrible nightmare; his charge
making a race for every milestone, in which the labouring boatswain,
despite his want of practice, came in the winner. The fourth ended
disastrously, Chrissie limping the last ten yards, and seating herself
with a very woebegone face on the stone itself.
"You did very well, miss," said the boatswain, who thought he could
afford to be generous. "You needn't be offended about it."
"It's my ankle," said Chrissie with a little whimper. "Oh! I twisted it
right round."
The boatswain stood regarding her in silent consternation
"It's no use looking like that," said Chrissie sharply, "you great
clumsy thing. If you hadn't have run so hard it wouldn't have happened.
It's all your fault."
"If you don't mind leaning on me a bit," said Tucker, "we might get
along."
Chrissie took his arm petulantly, and they started on their return
journey, at the rate of about four hours a mile, with little cries and
gasps at every other yard.
"It's no use," said Chrissie as she relinquished his arm, and, limping
to the side of the road, sat down. The boatswain pricked up his ears
hopefully at the sound of approaching wheels.
"What's the matter with the young lady?" inquired a groom who was
driving a little trap, as he pulled up and regarded with interest a
grimace of extraordinary intensity on the young lady's face.
"Broke her ankle, I think," said the boatswain glibly. "Which way are
you going?"
"Well, I'm going to Barborough," said the groom; "but my guvnor's rather
pertickler."
"I'll make it all right with you," said the boatswain.
The groom hesitated a minute, and then made way for Chrissie as the
boatswain assisted her to get up beside him; then Tucker, with a grin of
satisfaction at getting a seat once more, clambered up behind, and they
started.
"Have a rug, mate," said the groom, handing the reins to Chrissie and
passing it over; "put it round your knees and tuck the ends under you."
"Ay, ay, mate," said the boatswain as he obeyed the instructions.
"Are you sure you are quite comfortable?" said the groom affectionately.
"Quite," said the other.
The groom said no more, but in a quiet business-like fashion placed his
hands on the seaman's broad back, and shot him out into the road. Then
he snatched up the reins and drove off at a gallop.
Without the faintest hope of winning, Mr. Tucker, who realised clearly,
appearances notwithstanding, that he had fallen into a trap, rose after
a hurried rest and started on his fifth race that morning. The prize was
only a second-rate groom with plated buttons, who was waving cheery
farewells to him with a dingy top hat; but the boatswain would have
sooner had it than a silver tea-service.
He ran as he had never ran before in his life, but all to no purpose,
the trap stopping calmly a little further on to take up another
passenger, in whose favour the groom retired to the back seat; then,
with a final wave of the hand to him, they took a road to the left and
drove rapidly out of sight. The boatswain's watch was over.
LOW WATER
It was a calm, clear evening in late summer as the Elizabeth Ann, of
Pembray, scorning the expensive aid of a tug, threaded her way down the
London river under canvas. The crew were busy forward, and the master
and part-owner--a fussy little man, deeply imbued with a sense of his
own importance and cleverness--was at the wheel chatting with the mate.
While waiting for a portion of his cargo, he had passed the previous
week pleasantly enough with some relatives in Exeter, and was now in a
masterful fashion receiving a report from the mate.
"There's one other thing," said the mate. "I dessay you've noticed how
sober old Dick is to-night."
"I kept him short o' purpose," said the skipper, with a satisfied air.
"Tain't that," said the mate. "You'll be pleased to hear that 'im an'
Sam has been talked over by the other two, and that all your crew now,
'cept the cook, who's still Roman Catholic, has j'ined the Salvation
Army."
"Salvation Army!" repeated the skipper in dazed tones. "I don't want
none o' your gammon, Bob."
"It's quite right," said the other. "You can take it from me. How it was
done I don't know, but what I do know is, none of 'em has touched licker
for five days. They've all got red jerseys, an' I hear as old Dick
preaches a hexcellent sermon. He's red-hot on it, and t'others follow
'im like sheep."
"The drink's got to his brain," said the skipper sagely, after due
reflection. "Well, I don't mind, so long as they behave theirselves."
He kept silence until Woolwich was passed, and they were running along
with all sails set, and then, his curiosity being somewhat excited, he
called old Dick to him, with the amiable intention of a little banter.
"What's this I hear about you j'ining the Salvation Army?" he asked.
"It's quite true, sir," said Dick. "I feel so happy, you can't think--we
all do."
"Glory!" said one of the other men, with enthusiastic corroboration.
"Seems like the measles," said the skipper facetiously. "Four of you
down with it at one time!"
"It IS like the measles, sir," said the old man impressively, "an' I
only hope as you'll catch it yourself, bad."
"Hallelujah!" bawled the other man suddenly. "He'll catch it."
"Hold that noise, you, Joe!" shouted the skipper sternly. "How dare you
make that noise aboard ship?"
"He's excited, sir," said Dick. "It's love for you in 'is 'eart as does
it."
"Let him keep his love to hisself," said the skipper churlishly.
"Ah! that's just what we can't do," said Dick in high-pitched tones,
which the skipper rightly concluded to be his preaching voice. "We can't
do it--an' why can't we do it? Becos we feel good, an' we want you to
feel good too. We want to share it with you. Oh, dear friend--"
"That's enough," said the master of the Elizabeth Ann, sharply. "Don't
you go 'dear friending' me. Go for'ard! Go for'ard at once!"
With a melancholy shake of his head the old man complied, and the
startled skipper turned to the mate, who was at the wheel, and expressed
his firm intention of at once stopping such behaviour on his ship.
"You can't do it," said the mate firmly.
"Can't do it?" queried the skipper.
"Not a bit of it," said the other. "They've all got it bad, an' the more
you get at 'em the wuss they'll be. Mark my words, best let 'em alone."
"I'll hold my hand a bit and watch 'em," was the reply; "but I've always
been cap'n on my own ship, and I always will."
For the next twenty-four hours he retained his sovereignty undisputed,
but on Sunday morning, after breakfast, when he was at the wheel, and
the crew below, the mate, who had been forward, came aft with a strange
grin struggling for development at the corners of his mouth.
"What's the matter?" inquired the skipper, regarding him with some
disfavour.
"They're all down below with their red jerseys on," replied the mate,
still struggling, "and they're holding a sort o' consultation about the
lost lamb, an' the best way o' reaching 'is 'ard 'eart."
"Lost lamb!" repeated the skipper unconcernedly, but carefully avoiding
the other's eye.
"You're the lost lamb," said the mate, who always went straight to the
point.
"I won't have it," said the skipper excitably. "How dare they go on in
this way? Go and send 'em up directly,"
The mate, whistling cheerily, complied, and the four men, neatly attired
in scarlet, came on deck.
"Now, what's all this nonsense about?" demanded the incensed man. "What
do you want?"
"We want your pore sinful soul," said Dick with ecstasy.
"Ay, an' we'll have it," said Joe, with deep conviction.
"So we will," said the other two, closing their eyes and smiling
rapturously; "so we will."
The skipper, alarmed, despite himself, at their confidence, turned a
startled face to the mate.
"If you could see it now," continued Dick impressively, "you'd be
frightened at it. If you could--"
"Get to your own end of the ship," spluttered the indignant skipper.
"Get, before I kick you there!"
"Better let Sam have a try," said one of the other men, calmly ignoring
the fury of the master; "his efforts have been wonderfully blessed. Come
here, Sam."
"There's a time for everything" said Sam cautiously. "Let's go for'ard
and do what we can for him among ourselves."
They moved off reluctantly, Dick throwing such affectionate glances at
the skipper over his shoulders that he nearly choked with rage.
"I won't have it!" he said fiercely; "I'll knock it out of 'em."
"You can't," said the mate. "You can't knock sailor men about nowadays.
The only thing you can do is to get rid of 'em."
"I don't want to do that," was the growling reply. "They've been with me
a long time, and they're all good men. Why don't they have a go at you,
I wonder?"
"ME?" said the mate, in indignant surprise. "Why, I'm a Seventh Day
Baptist! They don't want to waste their time over me. I'm all right."
"You're a pretty Seventh Day Baptist, you are!" replied the skipper.
"Fust I've heard of it."
"You don't understand about such things," said the mate.
"It must be a very easy religion," continued the skipper.
"I don't make a show of it, if that's what you mean," rejoined the other
warmly. "I'm one o' them as believe in 'iding my light under a bushel."
"A pint pot'ud do easy," sneered the skipper. "It's more in your line,
too."
"Anyway, the men reckernise it," said the mate loftily. "They don't go
an' sit in their red jerseys an' hold mothers' meetings over me."
"I'll knock their blessed heads off!" growled the skipper. "I'll learn
'em to insult me!"
"It's all for your own good," said the other. "They mean it kindly.
Well, I wish 'em luck."
With these hardy words he retired, leaving a seething volcano to pace
the deck, and think over ways and means of once more reducing his crew
to what he considered a fit and proper state of obedience and respect.
The climax was reached at tea-time, when an anonymous hand was thrust
beneath the skylight, and a full-bodied tract fluttered wildly down and
upset his tea.
"That's the last straw!" he roared, fishing out the tract and throwing
it on the floor. "I'll read them chaps a lesson they won't forget in a
hurry, and put a little money in my pocket at the same time. I've got a
little plan in my 'ed as come to me quite sudden this afternoon. Come on
deck, Bob."
Bob obeyed, grinning, and the skipper, taking the wheel from Sam, sent
him for the others.
"Did you ever know me break my word, Dick?" he inquired abruptly, as
they shuffled up.
"Never," said Dick.
"Cap'n Bowers' word is better than another man's oath," asseverated Joe.
"Well," said Captain Bowers, with a wink at the mate, "I'm going to give
you chaps a little self-denial week all to yourselves. If you all live
on biscuit and water till we get to port, and don't touch nothing else,
I'll jine you and become a Salvationist."
"Biscuit and water," said Dick doubtfully, scratching a beard strong
enough to scratch back.
"It wouldn't be right to play with our constitooshuns in that way, sir,"
objected Joe, shaking his head.
"There you are," said Bowers, turning to the mate with a wave of his
hand. "They're precious anxious about me so long as it's confined to
jawing, and dropping tracts into my tea, but when it comes to a little
hardship on their part, see how they back out of it."
"We ain't backing out of it," said Dick cautiously; "but s'pose we do,
how are we to be certain as you'll jine us?"
"You 've got my word for it," said the other, "an' the mate an' cook
witness it."
"O' course, you jine the Army for good, sir," said Dick, still
doubtfully.
"O' course."
"Then it's a bargain, sir," said Dick, beaming; "ain't it, chaps?"
"Ay, ay," said the others, but not beaming quite so much. "Oh, what a
joyful day this is!" said the old man. "A Salvation crew an' a Salvation
cap'n! We'll have the cook next, bad as he is."
"You'll have biskit an' water," said the cook icily, as they moved off,
"an' nothing else, I'll take care."
"They must be uncommon fond o' me," said the skipper meditatively.
"Uncommon fond o' having their own way," growled the mate. "Nice thing
you've let yourself in for."
"I know what I 'm about," was the confident reply.
"You ain't going to let them idiots fast for a week an' then break your
word?" said the mate in surprise.
"Certainly not," said the other wrathfully; "I'd sooner jine three
armies than do that, and you know it."
"They'll keep to the grub, don't you fear," said the mate. "I can't
understand how you are going to manage it."
"That's where the brains come in," retorted the skipper, somewhat
arrogantly.
"Fust time I've heard of 'em," murmured the mate softly; "but I s'pose
you've been using pint pots too."
The skipper glared at him scornfully, but, being unprovided with a
retort, forbore to reply, and going below again mixed himself a stiff
glass of grog, and drank success to his scheme.
Three days passed, and the men stood firm, and, realising that they were
slowly undermining the skipper's convictions, made no effort to carry
him by direct assault. The mate made no attempt to conceal his opinion
of his superior's peril, and in gloomy terms strove to put the full
horror of his position before him.
"What your missis'll say the first time she sees you prancing up an'
down the road tapping a tambourine, I can't think," said he.
"I shan't have no tambourine," said Captain Bowers cheerfully.
"It'll also be your painful dooty to stand outside your father-in-law's
pub and try and persuade customers not to go in," continued Bob. "Nice
thing that for a quiet family!"
The skipper smiled knowingly, and, rolling a cigar in his mouth, leaned
back in his seat and cocked his eye at the skylight.
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