XIII
THE DEFLECTED COMPASS
The paddle-steamer _Queen of the Isles_ was alongside the quay at St.Mary's, and had already given one shrill intimation that she wasprepared to leave the harbour. Sydney and I were ready, with ourportmanteaux strapped and our caps on, but the Honourable John had notyet appeared. We were impatient. Very important was it that we shouldcatch the mail out of Penzance that same evening, for the followingmorning we were all due in London. Any delay in our return would betaken from the holidays of the next batch, and we should never hear thelast of it if we were late, to say nothing of the unfairness of reducingthe well-earned rest of the next batch by our dilatoriness and lack ofconsideration. We had taken the precaution to settle the hotel accounts,because we knew the habits of the Honourable John, and we stood in thehall with the thunder gathering upon our brows, and threatening to pealforth in tones more loud than complimentary.
"If he isn't down in two minutes, Syd, I'm off," said I, pulling out mywatch, and nervously noting the jerky springs of the spidery second-handthat seemed to be in a much greater hurry than usual.
"John!" bawled Syd up the stairway. "Do you hear? You'll miss thesteamer."
"What's the fellow doing?" I asked, with irritation, as I observed thathalf a minute had passed.
"Waxing the ends of his ridiculous moustache," answered Syd; then,turning again to the foot of the stairs, "John! We're going. Hurry up!"
A door opened on the landing, and a voice drawled, "I say, you chaps,have you paid the bill?"
"Certainly," said I. "Come along. We've barely time to catch thesteamer. Didn't you hear the whistle?"
"I heard something a little while ago, a sort of an ear-piercing shriekthat startled me, and caused me to nick my chin with the razor. I shallhave to put a bit of flesh-coloured plaster over it. Was that thewhistle?" asked the Honourable John in the most tantalising, nonchalantway, as if he had all the day before him.
We looked up the stairway, and there he was on the landing, in hisshirt-sleeves, slowly adjusting the ends of a salmon-coloured tie.
"The two minutes are up," said I, replacing my watch, and stooping formy portmanteau. At that moment the whistle sounded again, and I hurriedaway, followed by Syd, both of us muttering that the dawdler deserved tobe left, but none the less hoping in our hearts that he would be intime.
The hotel was near the harbour, and we were soon aboard. On the bridge,between the paddle-boxes, the captain stood with the string attached tothe syren in his hand; beside him, glancing at the compass-card,grasping the spokes of the wheel, and silently awaiting instructions,was one of the men; the mate was for'ard with his whistle; and twolittle knots of islanders were gathered about the moorings on the quay,ready to cast off the hawsers as soon as the paddles moved and thecaptain gave the word.
Loungers and holiday-makers were stirred into mild excitement by ourexpected departure. Exchanges of farewells, amid occasional shouts and acontinuous ripple of laughter, were passing between those on board andthose ashore. The usually quiet life of St. Mary's was bubbling up inits periodical agitation. By the outgoing and incoming of the steamerthe islanders touched the great world without, and thrilled at the touchand felt its importance.
It was a pleasant scene, or it would have been but for the inexcusabledelay of the Honourable John. We began to fear that he would be left.The captain pulled the string again, and the syren sounded, with apeculiar urgency, as it seemed to me, ending in a despairing wail; then,stepping to the indicator, he signalled to the engineer, and the paddlesbegan to revolve. The forward hawser was thrown off and fell with asplash into the sea; astern we were yet alongside the quay.
The Honourable John appeared, resplendent in all the glory of a silkhat and frock coat, with a flower in his buttonhole, his hands gloved inlemon-coloured kids, and his feet shiny with patent leather; the peopleparted to let him pass, and stared at him as if he were a marquis at thevery least, but the porter flung his portmanteau over the bulwarks likethat of any other common tourist; John himself, with more agility than Igave him credit for, sprang aboard only just in time, as the men shouted"All clear aft, sir."
Once more we heard the click of the bells in the engine-room, and awaywe went through the clear waters, with the white foam mingling in ourwake and the other islands gliding rapidly into view.
"You donkey!" said I, surveying the delinquent from head to foot, andnoticing particularly the round spot of plaster on his chin. "Why didn'tyou come earlier?"
"Call him a parrakeet," said Syd. "That will better describe him."
"He's both," I replied--"slow as the one and gay as the other. But we'vegot him, and we'll see that he does not defraud young Clifton of asingle minute of the holiday he's waiting for--ay, and well deserves."
"You're always in such a desperate hurry," observed the Honourable John,ignoring the epithets with which we assailed him. He was never offended,and never perturbed. When the vials of our wrath were poured upon him,as they had been pretty freely during the holiday, they ran off himlike the proverbial water from the duck's back. We simply could not haveendured his foppishness and dandyism, combined with a temper alwaysserene, if we had not known that at heart he was a very good fellow. "Iwas in time," said he.
"You were," returned Syd significantly--"nearly in time to be late."
"But I wasn't late," drawled John, "so what's the good of making a fussabout it. One of the pleasures of life is to take things easily; as myfriend the Irishman once remarked, 'If ye cannot be happy, be aisy; andif ye cannot be aisy, be as aisy as ye can.' But, I say, I don't callthis a specially bright morning; do you? Look there! We're running intoa bank of fog."
So we were. A dense white barrier, clean and straight as a wall, rosefrom the sea to the sky, and in another minute we had plunged into it.We did not anticipate so sudden a change. Fog was far from our thoughts,for the morning had been bright and sunny all around the islands, andthe air was very still. For two or three days scarcely a breath of windhad wandered across the brilliant summer atmosphere. Now, with the fog,came a softly moving breeze out of the north-east. The fog driftedbefore it in one immense mass; there was no ripple upon the sea.
Upon the passengers the effect was very curious; where, a few momentsbefore, there had been ready repartee, interspersed with laughter, nowthere was low-toned commonplace conversation, or a dead silence. We werewrapped in a cloud; moisture began to form in tiny drops upon thestanchions and the deck, upon the beards and moustaches of the male partof the voyagers, upon the woolly texture of the garments of all, evenupon the smoothly brushed silk of the Honourable John's top hat; savefor the swish of the paddles and the running of the engines, with awhispered exclamation here and there, we could hear nothing; and wecould scarcely see the length of the ship.
It was the first bit of objectionable weather we had experienced duringthe holiday. We had spent a fortnight in the "Delectable Duchy." FromLooe to Sennen we had not missed a single place worth seeing, and we hadfinished up with a week in the Scilly Isles. Making St. Mary's ourcentre, we had rowed and waded to St. Martin's and St. Agnes', to Trescoand Bryer and Samson and Annet, to Great Ganilly and Great Arthur, toGweal and Illiswilgis, and a host of other places in that shattered andscattered heap of granite which forms the outstanding sentinel of ourfar western coast. The weather had been perfect. But now, having clearedthe road and rounded St. Mary's, we were met by this thick mist, swayingdown upon us like a vast curtain, and quickly enveloping us in itsvapoury folds.
"You'll want a new topper, John, when we reach Penzance," said Syd, ashe noted how the moisture was ruffling the silk and dimming its gloss.He laughed as he said it, but, in the silence, his laugh seemed to be anintrusion.
"You're mistaken, Syd," he replied; and, as he took off his hat andsurveyed it, he continued, "In all weathers, there's no head gear sodurable, and therefore so economical, as a good silk chimney-pot; andcertainly there's nothing in the way of a _chapeau_ so comfortable andbecoming."
"Tastes
differ," said I.
"They do," answered John, "and I speak about my own. I've tried others.Oh, yes, I have," said he, as we looked at him incredulously, "and Ispeak from experience. I tell you, they're cheap, if you will only giveenough for them. Why, I know an old fellow who has worn the very sametile, in all weathers, for fifteen years; it has been in the height offashion twice in that time, and it will soon come in again; and it is avery decent thing yet when it has been newly pressed and ironed."
"I prefer my deerstalker," said Syd.
"And I my golfer," said I.
"Which shows very plainly that your sartorial education has beenneglected," returned John, "and I pity you. You are not living up toyour privileges, and, worse still, you are unaware of the privileges youmight live up to. But, I say, this is a sneezer!" and he looked abouthim into the fog, which was becoming denser every minute. "They'relessening the pace. I suppose it wouldn't do to drive along through thisthick stuff. We might reach an unexpected terminus. What say you? Shallwe go on the bridge?"
"The captain may not allow us," said I.
"Pooh! I know the cap. He's a forty-second cousin of mine. Come along.I'll introduce you now that we are out of the narrows and in the opensea."
"It seems to me as if the sea were shut," whispered Syd, as we followedthe Honourable John to the bridge.
"Closed, at any rate," said I, "and with very moist curtains, throughwhich we must push our way unpleasantly enough into the harbour."
We reached the upper deck, which was dotted with bulgy figures in cloaksand capes, damp, and silent, and melancholy. The bridge formed theforward part of the upper deck, where it terminated amidships; thehelmsman, with his hands upon the spokes, shifted his eyes alternatelybetween the binnacle and the bows, and gave the wheel a turn now thisway and now that, while the captain paced cross-wise between thepaddle-boxes, and searched the mirk above and ahead to see whether therewas any likelihood that the weather would clear.
Abaft the funnel the deck was free to those of the passengers who heldsaloon tickets, but afore the funnel--that is, on the bridge itself--noone was allowed without the captain's special permission. This space wasrailed off, with a hinged lift in the mahogany on either side, both ofwhich were now down and barred. We were not quite sure whether thecaptain were really the Honourable John's relative, or whether ourcomrade's proposal to join the captain was only one of those erraticnotions which visited his aristocratic brain, and were often carriedthrough with a confidence so complete as to be rarely unsuccessful. Hewas unmercifully snubbed sometimes, and he richly deserved it; but thecurious thing about him was that the snubs were wasted. Where otherswould have retired crestfallen, the Honourable John held his head highand heeded not.
We were prepared to find that the forty-second cousinship was a fiction,and that the captain would quietly ignore him; but we were in thebackground, and it mattered very little to us; the deck would be aswelcome as the bridge.
"Well, cousin cap.," said John familiarly, placing his hand upon the wetmahogany rail, "and how are you?"
"Hallo!" exclaimed the captain, facing round. "Where have you tumbledfrom?"
"Hughtown, St. Mary's, was the last bit of mother earth I touched beforeI sprang aboard the _Queen of Paddlers_. May we venture within yourprivate domain?"
"Why, certainly, John," and he lifted the rail and beckoned us forward.
"Two chums of mine," said John, naming us, and then he named the captainas his respected cousin forty-two times removed. The captain smiled athim, shook his head, and observed that the relationship was a littlecloser than that, but a puzzle, nevertheless, to work out exactly.
"I must have missed you when you came aboard," said he, "and yet in yourusual get-up I don't see how I could very well. You look as if you hadjust stepped out of a band-box, except for the dampness, of course."
"Oh, you were busy when I joined you," said John, evidently pleased withthe captain's remarks about his appearance. "I had to jump for it. Butyou haven't answered my question. How are you?"
"Tol'able, thank'e. And your folks--how are they? I need not ask how_you_ are," and, while John answered him, he placed camp-stools for us,and said to Syd and me, "Sit down, gentlemen; and excuse me if I addressmyself mainly to this eccentric cousin of mine, and, I am sure, yourvery good friend. I do not see him often, and he never will let me knowwhen he is coming my way"--a statement which Syd and I could easilybelieve. For, with all John's faults, and he had many of them, he wasone of the least obtrusive of men where hospitality came in, and one ofthe most reticent about himself and his own affairs; and we, who workedwith him, knew him almost exclusively as a good fellow in thedepartment, and a capital companion for a holiday.
The captain placed John's camp-stool on the starboard side of thebinnacle. Their conversation was broken into snatches by the captain'smovements. As he paced the bridge, backwards and forwards, he haltedeach time just for a moment when he came to where John had propped hisback against the binnacle and tilted his stool at an angle thatthreatened collapse. Syd and I sat quite apart, and left them alone totheir semi-private conversation. We noticed, however, that the captainappeared to be uneasy about the vessel's course and progress; he glancedmore than once at the compass-card, and several times, in hisperambulations, he lingered over the paddle-boxes, and intently watchedthe water as it slipped by. So that his conversation with the HonourableJohn became more fragmentary, and was more frequently interrupted thenearer we approached the land.
After some time the captain came to a sudden stand over the portpaddle-box, and curved his left hand round his ear. For a minute or morehe stood like a statue, perfectly motionless, and with his whole beingabsorbed in an effort to catch a faint and expected sound across thewater. Satisfied with the effort, he stepped briskly to the indicator,and signalled to the engineer to increase the speed of the steamer.
"What is it, cap.?" asked John.
"The bell on the Runnel Stone," he replied. "Cannot you hear it?"
The captain's statuesque figure, intently listening, had been observedby the passengers, and there was a dead silence aboard, broken only bythe thumping of the engines and the splash of the paddle-blades as theypounded the still waters. Presently the dreary clang of the bell,struck by the clapper as the sea rocked it, came to us in uncertain andfitful tones. It was a melancholy sound, but its effect was cheering,because it gave the people some idea of our whereabouts, and was anindication that we had crossed the intervening space between the islandsand the mainland. We were making fair progress despite the fog, andshould soon be ashore again.
A babble of talk began and ran the round of the passengers, breaking outamong a group of younger people into a ripple of laughter. For a quarterof an hour this went on, then, to the amazement of all on board, thecaptain, after glancing anxiously at the compass-card, sternly calledout "Silence!" Meanwhile the sound of the bell had become clearer, butwas now growing less distinct; and, as the captain's order was instantlyobeyed, we became aware of another sound--the breaking of the waves uponthe shore.
For a moment the captain listened, straining his eyes at the same timeto pierce the dense mist ahead; the man on the look-out, perched in thebows, who had been leaning forward with his hand shading his eyes,turned about with a startled gesture, throwing his arms aloft, andshouted to the captain that we were close in shore, and heading for itdirectly; the captain sprang to the indicator, and signalled for thereversal of the engines; but it was too late. With a thud that threw usall forward the steamer grounded.
Instantly all was confusion. Some lost their heads, and began to rushabout wildly. A few screamed. Nearly every one became visibly paler. Sydand I started from our seats, and gazed bewilderedly at an expanse ofyellow sand softly revealed beneath the mist, and stretching ahead andon either hand into the white moisture by which we were encompassed.John walked over to us apparently unmoved.
"Well, this is a go," said he.
Before we could reply, the captain bawled out his orders that all
thepassengers must retire to the after-part of the ship, and help, so faras their collected weight might do so, to raise the bows now sunk in thesoft sand. He assured them that there was not the slightest danger; thevessel was uninjured; we were ashore on a yielding and shelving beach;and that, if they would remain perfectly quiet, and obey orders, he hadsome hope that he might get the vessel afloat again.
There was a general move aft, and although signs of distress, and evenof terror, were not wanting on some faces, the people gathered quietlyenough into one solid mass. We three stood on the outer edge of thecompany. Syd and I were considerably excited, but John was as calm as aman could be. With tremendous uproar the reversed paddles began to churnthe shallow water, but not an inch did we move.
The captain stepped to the binnacle, and read the compass-card. A swiftchange passed over his face; in mingled surprise and anger he pointedwithin the binnacle, and began to question the man at the wheel; but hewas more surprised than the captain--so utterly amazed, in fact, that hecould not be angry, and only protested that he had kept the vessel trueto the course which had been given him, and could not explain why thecard had veered three to four points farther westward since the vesselhad touched the ground. It was no use contending about the matter then.The paddles began to throw up the sand as well as the water, and thecaptain saw that the vessel would have to remain where she was until thenext tide.
"We are fast, sure 'nough," sang out the captain. "You had better gatheryour traps together, and prepare to leave the vessel. There will beconveyances in the villages to take you to Penzance."
The company dispersed and scattered about the boat, merrily collectingtheir belongings now that they knew the worst, and that the worst wasnot very bad after all. We rejoined the captain.
"What's the name of this new port of discharge?" asked John.
"Not port, but Porth," answered the captain grimly, for it was nolaughing matter to him. "Porth Curnow. And you may thank your stars thatwe have run clear in upon the sand, and not a few furlongs south ornorth, for then we should have been laid up either under Tol-Pedn orbeneath the Logan Rock."
"I can follow your location admirably, cap.," said John. "We are eightor nine miles from Penzance--is not that so? Yes!" as the captainnodded gloomily; "and Porth Curnow is the place where the submarinetelegraph chaps live. But, I say, why did you bring us here? We bookedfor Penzance."
"Goodness knows--I don't. Something's gone wrong with the compass. Wewere on the right course, and the compass was true until we grounded;then it swerved most unaccountably nearly four points to the westward,and there it remains."
"That's a curious freak, cap. You'll be interviewed by all thescientific folk in the kingdom, and I shouldn't wonder if you are notsummoned to appear, and give evidence, before a select committee of theRoyal Society. Four points out! Why, man, you're immortalised. I call ita most lucky deflection."
"Do you? I don't," growled the captain. "Others are welcome to theimmortality. I prefer to do without, and steer by a compass that's true.And it _has_ been true up to now."
"That's where it comes in," exclaimed John. "That's what makes itremarkable. If the compass _hadn't_ been true, you would have gainednothing by this little adventure; but, as you say, it _has_ been true,therefore---- Oh! dear, it takes a lot to satisfy some people. And youcannot account for it? Do you think the telegraph station has hadanything to do with it--electricity, you know? Electricity is a queerthing, and plays pranks sometimes. No! Well, perhaps the hills aremagnetic."
"Come, John, you're losing your head; and I have these people to seeto," remarked the captain somewhat tartly.
"I believe I am," said John. "It's a habit I have, but I generally findit again. Well, cap., if you require any assistance in the unloading ofthe cargo, say the word, and here I am, your cousin to command"; and thecaptain was obliged to smile, notwithstanding the disaster--an effectwhich John had been trying for all the while.
"Your suggestion about the telegraph station has put a practical ideainto my brain, and I am thankful for that, John. I'll sound the syren,and bring the fellows down. They'll be willing to help in a mess likethis, anyhow; and, if there are not enough conveyances to run the peopledown to Penzance, they can wire for a few to fetch them"; and, pullingthe cord, he sent the shriek of the syren through the mist in resoundingand ear-splitting tones.
By this time, the passengers had all pressed forward into the bows, withthe easily transferable part of their luggage about them. The water hadreceded, and left the bows clear; but it was too long a drop into thewet sand for any one to venture down without assistance. The ladiesespecially were looking wistfully over the bulwarks. We three wentforward also, but we left our portmanteaux to take care of themselves.
Soon two young fellows dashed down the sands, halloing in answer to thesyren, and stood with wondering eyes beneath the bows.
"Who are you?" shouted one of them.
"Scilly people," piped a shrill female voice from our midst.
"That we are--very," said John drily; at which, notwithstanding ourplight, there was a general laugh.
The two were speedily increased to half a dozen, and these were joinedby quite a group of farm-servants and villagers, attracted by theunwonted sound of a syren floating across their fields. Some of thelatter, scenting substantial gain, ran off to harness their horses tosuch conveyances as they could command in readiness for the drive toPenzance, while the rest remained, having also a view to the needful, toact as porters and guides.
One of the men, by the captain's orders, came forward with arope-ladder, fastened one end securely within the bulwarks, and threwthe other over the side. It hung about four feet from the ground.Immediately the passengers swarmed about the head of the ladder, and,although there was no real danger, pushed and jostled each other in theattempt to secure an early descent. A few thoughtless young fellows wereclaiming the first chance when the Honourable John interfered.
"Here," said he, "ladies first, and one at a time," and he shoulderedthe too eager males aside. He took off his hat, turned to the crowdbelow, and, picking out a telegraph clerk, said, "Catch my tile, willyou? And, mind, don't sit on it! It may collapse. Thank you!" as the mancaught it cleverly, and smiled at the instructions. Then he slipped outof his frock-coat, and flung it aside; undid his cuff-links, and rolledup his sleeves; bowed to the nearest woman of the party, who happened tobe a stout Scillonian in a peasant's dress, and said, "Ready! Allow me,madam." As he helped her to the top of the bulwarks, and down the rungs,he sang out, "Below there! Steady this lady down, and help her to theground."
Syd and I handed up the other ladies, and the Honourable John, balancedupon the bulwarks, gallantly helped them down the ladder as far as hisarms would reach, where they were taken in charge by the telegraphclerks, and landed upon the wet sand. The captain watched theproceedings from the bridge with an amused expression. Before long allthe ladies were disposed of, and we left the men to scramble down asbest they could. John picked up his coat, and I held it by the collarwhile he slipped his arms through the arm-holes and drew it on.
When he flung the coat aside I noticed a peculiarity of the collar as itfell and lay upon the ground. While the waist and all the lower part waslimp, the collar preserved an unnatural stiffness--a stiffness thatextended to the breast; this part stood up as if within it there weresome invisible form. Several times as I turned to assist the lady whoseturn came next I noticed this peculiarity; and when I held the collar tohelp the Honourable John into this fashionable frock-coat, there was ahardness about it which made me wonder whether his tailor had stitchedinto it several strips of buckram, or cleverly inserted beneath thecollar, and down the breast, a piece of flexible whalebone. Whatever itwas that gave this part of his coat its rigidity, I dismissed it from mymind with the thought that the Honourable John was a greater fop thaneither Syd or I supposed.
Bareheaded he went to bid his cousin good-bye. We also shook thecaptain's hand, and expressed our regret, with John, at the misfortune
which had befallen him because of the deflection of the compass. We werethe last to leave by the rope-ladder, handing down our portmanteauxbefore we descended ourselves; and the captain waved his hand to us fromthe bows before we vanished into the mist. The heavy luggage would haveto wait until the steamer floated off with the next tide, and made herway round to Penzance; but negotiations had begun before we left for theconveyance of the mails in time to catch the up train, by which we alsointended travelling to London.
John recovered his hat, and we pushed through the yielding shell beach,preceded by our improvised porters, to the broken ramparts of TrerynDinas; these we climbed, and made our way across the fields to thevillage of Treryn; and here we hired a trap, which ran us into Penzancein time to discuss a good dinner before we started on our journey byrail.
We were well on the way to Plymouth, and I was reading a newspaper ofthe day before, when a curious paragraph caught my eye.
"Listen to this!" said I to the other two, and I read: "'It hasfrequently happened that ships have got out of their course at sea bysome unaccountable means, and a warning just issued by the Admiralty mayperhaps have some bearing on the matter. Their Lordships say that theirattention has been called to the practice of seamen wearing steelstretchers in their caps, and to the danger which may result from thesestretchers becoming strongly magnetised, and being worn by men close tothe ship's compasses. Instances have been reported of compasses beingconsiderably deflected in this manner, and their Lordships have nowdirected that the use of steel stretchers in caps is to be immediatelydiscontinued.' I wonder if the deflection of the compass of the _Queenof the Isles_ can be explained in a similar way. Possibly the helmsmanmay have been wearing one of these stretchers."
"Whew!" exclaimed the Honourable John, giving his knee a tremendousslap. "I have it. I must write to my cousin. It is my fault--my fault,entirely. But I never thought of it."
"Thought of what?" asked Syd.
"What do you mean?" inquired I.
"This----" and the Honourable John for once exhibited a rueful face."You saw where the cap. placed me; and how I tilted my stool and leanedagainst the binnacle. Well, look here!" and he folded back the lappetsof his coat, and showed us a narrow band of flat spring steel thatpassed under his collar and down either side to keep it from creasingand to help it to fit closely to his body. "That patent thing has donethe mischief, without a doubt. Oh, what a fool I am! I might have sentthe whole ship-load of us to Davy Jones. I'll forswear this fashionabletoggery henceforth when I'm away on holiday, and follow the innocentexample of sensible chaps like you."
We made no comment, but we both observed that our companion wassingularly quiet all the way from Plymouth to London.