CHAPTER II
Hilda Vivian
At daybreak, in a strong off-shore wind, thick with snow, the S.S._Donibristle_ cast off and proceeded on her voyage. By noon, workingup to eleven knots, she had passed through the broad strait of SanJuan de Fuca--the waterway between Vancouver Island and the FederalState of Washington--and was rolling heavily in the following seas.
During his watch on the bridge Alwyn Burgoyne saw nothing of thepassengers. Certainly it was not the kind of weather in whichlandsmen venture on deck. The whole aspect was a study in greys. Thesea, as far as the driving snow permitted to be seen, was a waste ofleaden-coloured waves flecked with tumbling grey crests. Overhead awatery sun almost failed to make its presence known through thesombre swiftly-moving clouds. Everything on deck was snow-covered,while wisps of steam mingled with an eddying volume of smoke from thesalt-rimed funnels.
Crouched in the bows was the motionless figure of the look-out man,peering intently through the flurry of snow-flakes, and ready at thefirst sign of another craft to hail the bridge, where, always withineasy distance of the engine-room telegraph, Burgoyne pacedceaselessly to and fro. For the time being the safety of the ship andall who sailed in her depended upon his judgment. An error on hispart or even hesitation in carrying out the "Rules and Regulationsfor Preventing Collisions at Sea" might easily result in an appallingcatastrophe.
Twice during his watch Alwyn had to alter course. Once to avoid atopsail schooner that suddenly loomed up, grotesquely distortedthrough the snow, at a distance of two cables on the starboard bow.The second occasion was called for by the sighting of a derelict--atimber-ship dismasted and floating just awash. A startled shout fromthe look-out man, a crisp order from the Third Officer, and the_Donibristle_, heeling under the effect of helm hard over, literallyscraped past the waterlogged craft.
Five minutes later, Mostyn, the wireless operator, was sending out ageneral warning to the effect that at such and such a time, and inlatitude and longitude so and so, the S.S. _Donibristle_ had sighteda derelict highly dangerous to navigation.
At last, just as the sun was breaking through and the snow-storm hadpassed, Burgoyne's relief ascended the bridge ladder. Alwyn, having"handed over", went below, ate a hearty meal, and, relieved of allresponsibility for the time being, turned in with the knowledge thatbefore he took on again the _Donibristle_ would be in a distinctlywarmer climate.
He saw nothing of the passengers that evening. Their places at dinnerwere vacant. According to the steward, Mr. Tarrant was just able tosit up and take nourishment; while Mr. Miles, the Canadian commercialtraveller, in a valiant attempt to ward off the dreaded _mal de mer_,had resorted to certain drugs from his sample case, and was now underthe care of the steward. Colonel Vivian was attending to his wife,who was obliged to keep to her cabin, while he and his daughter forsome unexplained reason were having dinner in the latter's stateroom.
At noon on the following day Burgoyne, having "shot the sun" andworked out the ship's position, was considerably astonished to seeHilda Vivian mounting the bridge with the utmost sang-froid.
"Good morning, Mr. Burgoyne!" she exclaimed; "or is it goodafternoon? Quite warm, isn't it? A delightful change from yesterday.I've come to have a look round."
"I'm afraid I must tell you that you are trespassing, Miss Vivian,"said Alwyn. "No passengers are allowed on the bridge, you know."
Hilda Vivian's eyes sparkled with ill-concealed mirth.
"That was what my father said," she rejoined. "I had a small bet withhim on it. I've won, you see."
"But I can't let you----" began Burgoyne. "Company's regulations andall that sort of thing, you know."
"Supposing I refuse to go?" she inquired archly.
Alwyn pondered. It promised to be a tough proposition. He ratherwondered what the Old Man would say to him if he happened to come ondeck and espy a passenger--a lady passenger, and a young and prettyone at that--standing apparently without let or hindrance upon thebridge.
His colour deepened under his tan as he replied:
"You'll be getting me into a jolly hole if you persist."
It was a lame thing to say, he reflected. After all it seemed a bitfutile to have to put forward an individual case to support therights of deck-officers.
"I wouldn't do that," replied the girl earnestly. "It's all right. Iasked Captain Blair, and he said I'd find somebody up here to show meround."
"Right-o," said Burgoyne, not at all sorry to have the opportunity."But excuse me a moment while I finish working out our position."
He retired to the chart-house and shut the door, having first askedthe quartermaster to show the compass and steam steering-gear to thepassenger. He counted on a long and highly technical explanation fromthe old seaman, and in this he was not mistaken.
Alwyn used the respite profitably. He made no attempt to check hisfigures; that was a mere excuse. Taking up the telephone, he rang upthe Captain's cabin. A brief conversation confirmed Miss Vivian'sstatement, not that he doubted her word, but it was desirable toobtain the Old Man's sanction.
"That leaves me a comparatively free hand," soliloquized the ThirdOfficer, as he replaced the receiver. "There are worse ways of takinga trick than being in the company of a jolly girl."
Jolly she undoubtedly was. Without an atom of side, and utterlydevoid of any trace of self-consciousness, Hilda Vivian was decidedlypractical without sacrificing her femininity.
Burgoyne's watch passed only too quickly. The girl was a goodconversationalist and a splendid listener. Without betraying thefaintest sign of boredom she followed the Third Officer's somewhatstereotyped explanations of the various devices upon which the modernnavigator depends in order to take his ship, with uncanny accuracy,across thousands of miles of trackless ocean.
And then conversation drifted into other channels. Hilda explainedher presence on board. She was an only daughter; her brother had beenwounded and missing at Messines, and her mother had never properlyrecovered from the shock. Colonel Vivian had been in command of abattalion in Egypt and Palestine, and on the homeward voyage thetransport had been mined off Cape de Gata, in the course of which hehad received an injury to his thigh that had incapacitated him fromfurther active service.
"I know that bit," said Alwyn to himself. He felt pretty certain ofit from the moment he saw the colonel board the _Donibristle_ atVancouver; but now there was no doubt on the matter. He made noaudible remark, but allowed his fair companion to "carry on".
After the Armistice Colonel Vivian went on the retired list. He wasnot a rich man, having little means beyond his pension; andspecialists' fees incurred by his wife's illness made a heavy drainupon the colonel's exchequer. One specialist expressed his opinionthat the only thing likely to benefit Mrs. Vivian was a voyage roundthe world. Making sacrifices, Colonel Vivian was now engaged upon theprotracted tour, taking passages in cargo-boats with limitedaccommodation in order to cut down expenses, and prolong the "restcure" by breaking the voyage in various ports.
"I think the voyage is doing Mother good," continued the girl, "and Iam enjoying it--every minute in fact. But I do wish I could havebrought Peter----"
"And who is Peter?" asked Burgoyne, so abruptly that he could havebitten his tongue for having shown such a lively interest--or was itresentment?--towards Peter.
"He's simply a dear," replied Hilda. "A sheep-dog, you know. Ofcourse, it was impossible to bring him, owing to quarantinerestrictions and all that sort of thing, so we had to leave him withfriends. Are you fond of dogs, Mr. Burgoyne?"
"Beagles," said Alwyn. "Hadn't much time for a dog of my own. We rana pack of beagles at Dartmouth. Ripping sport."
"Were you at Dartmouth then?" asked Miss Vivian. "At the College?"
Burgoyne nodded.
"Then you were in the navy?"
"Yes," replied the Third Officer. "In the _pukka_ Royal Navy. I cameout some months ago, worse luck. But," he added, loyal to his presentemployers, "this line isn't half-bad--rather decent, in fact."
> Miss Vivian made no audible comment. Burgoyne had apparently failedto arouse a sympathetic interest in his case. He felt himselfwondering whether she would jump to the conclusion that he was arotter who had been ignominiously court-martialled and dismissed theService. But, before he could enlarge upon that particular point,Hilda steered the conversation into other channels until PhilBranscombe's arrival on the bridge brought Burgoyne's trick to aclose.
"My relief," announced Alwyn.
Hilda made no attempt to leave the bridge. Branscombe smiled.
"I'm off duty," persisted the Third Officer. "Would you care to seeour wireless cabin? It's a perfectly priceless stunt, and Mostyn, ourbudding Marconi, is quite harmless while under observation."
"Thanks," replied the girl calmly. "Another day perhaps; when it'snot so fine. I'll stay here a little longer; I am interested to knowwhat Mr. Branscombe did in the Great War."
Burgoyne accepted his dismissal with the best grace at his command.He had a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing that Miss Vivianhad heard of a joke at the Fourth Officer's expense, although she maynot have known the actual facts.
Phil Branscombe had been appointed midshipman, R.N.V.R., a fortnightprevious to the signing of the Armistice, although it wasn't hisfault that he hadn't been so earlier. Consequently by the time hejoined his M.-L. in a Western port hostilities were at an end. Oneevening towards the end of November the commander of the M.-L.flotilla was dozing in his cabin, when certain of the youngerofficers thought it would be a huge joke to pour pyrene down thestove-pipe and put out the fire in the Senior Officer's cabin.Stealthily they emptied the contents of the extinguisher and beat aretreat, chuckling at the mental picture of the commander'sdiscomfiture when he awoke to find that the stove had gone out andhimself shivering in the cold cabin.
Twenty minutes later a signalman conveying a message to the commanderfound him unconscious. The oxygen-destroying properties of the pyrenehad not only extinguished the fire, but had been within an ace ofsuffocating the occupant of the cabin. Fortunately the commanderrecovered. The culprits were discovered, but their victim, convincedthat it had not been their intention to drive matters to extremes,accepted their apologies and regrets. But the case did not end there.The Admiralty got to hear of it, and Branscombe and two of hisfellow-midshipmen were summarily dismissed.
"That's what I did in the Great War, Miss Vivian," said Branscombe atthe end of his recital. "You see, I wasn't one of the lucky ones.This ship saw some service. She was armed with six 4.7's, and madefourteen double trips across the Atlantic. Angus, our Chief Engineer,was on board her part of the time. He might tell you some yarns ifyou get the right side of him. Once we had some Yanks on board, andone of them asked him the same question that you asked me about whathe did in the Great War. Angus simply looked straight at him. 'Mabit', he replied."
"The _Donibristle_ hasn't guns on board now, I suppose?" inquired thegirl.
"No," replied Branscombe. There was a note of regret in his voice."The Merchant Service doesn't want guns nowadays. I can show youwhere the decks were strengthened to take the mountings. No, there'sno need for guns on this hooker."
But Fourth Officer Philip Branscombe was a bit out in his reckoning.
Meanwhile, as Burgoyne was making his way aft, he encountered ColonelVivian laboriously climbing the companion-ladder.
"Thanks, Mr. Burgoyne," exclaimed the colonel, as the Third Officerstood aside to allow him to pass. "By the by, are you any relation toMajor Burgoyne of the Loamshires?"
"My uncle," replied Alwyn.
"Then I must have met you at Cheltenham," resumed Colonel Vivian."Several times I thought I'd seen your face before."
Burgoyne shook his head.
"I haven't been in Cheltenham since I was twelve," he replied, "but Ihave an idea that I've seen you before, sir."
"Oh, where?"
"To the best of my belief about twelve miles sou'-sou'-west of Capede Gata. You were wearing pale blue pyjamas and a wristlet watch.When we hiked you out of the ditch you were holding up a Tommy whocouldn't swim, and----"
"By Jove! I remember you now," interrupted the Colonel. "You were incharge of one of the _Pylon's_ boats. But I thought you were amidshipman R.N."
"I was," agreed Burgoyne. "I had to resign under the reduction ofnaval personnel stunt. And, by the by, sir, Miss Vivian asked me totell you that she had been on the bridge for--" he glanced at hiswatch, "for the last three and a half hours."