AN INDIGNANT TALE
THE BRUTE
Dodging in from the rain-swept street, I exchanged a smile and aglance with Miss Blank in the bar of the Three Crows. This exchange waseffected with extreme propriety. It is a shock to think that, if stillalive, Miss Blank must be something over sixty now. How time passes!
Noticing my gaze directed inquiringly at the partition of glass andvarnished wood, Miss Blank was good enough to say, encouragingly:
"Only Mr. Jermyn and Mr. Stonor in the parlour with another gentlemanI've never seen before."
I moved towards the parlour door. A voice discoursing on the other side(it was but a matchboard partition), rose so loudly that the concludingwords became quite plain in all their atrocity.
"That fellow Wilmot fairly dashed her brains out, and a good job, too!"
This inhuman sentiment, since there was nothing profane or improperin it, failed to do as much as to check the slight yawn Miss Blankwas achieving behind her hand. And she remained gazing fixedly at thewindow-panes, which streamed with rain.
As I opened the parlour door the same voice went on in the same cruelstrain:
"I was glad when I heard she got the knock from somebody at last. Sorryenough for poor Wilmot, though. That man and I used to be chums at onetime. Of course that was the end of him. A clear case if there ever wasone. No way out of it. None at all."
The voice belonged to the gentleman Miss Blank had never seen before. Hestraddled his long legs on the hearthrug. Jermyn, leaning forward,held his pocket-handkerchief spread out before the grate. He looked backdismally over his shoulder, and as I slipped behind one of thelittle wooden tables, I nodded to him. On the other side of the fire,imposingly calm and large, sat Mr. Stonor, jammed tight into a capaciousWindsor armchair. There was nothing small about him but his short, whiteside-whiskers. Yards and yards of extra superfine blue cloth (made upinto an overcoat) reposed on a chair by his side. And he must just havebrought some liner from sea, because another chair was smothered underhis black waterproof, ample as a pall, and made of three-fold oiledsilk, double-stitched throughout. A man's hand-bag of the usual sizelooked like a child's toy on the floor near his feet.
I did not nod to him. He was too big to be nodded to in that parlour.He was a senior Trinity pilot and condescended to take his turn in thecutter only during the summer months. He had been many times in chargeof royal yachts in and out of Port Victoria. Besides, it's no usenodding to a monument. And he was like one. He didn't speak, he didn'tbudge. He just sat there, holding his handsome old head up, immovable,and almost bigger than life. It was extremely fine. Mr. Stonor'spresence reduced poor old Jermyn to a mere shabby wisp of a man, andmade the talkative stranger in tweeds on the hearthrug look absurdlyboyish. The latter must have been a few years over thirty, and wascertainly not the sort of individual that gets abashed at the soundof his own voice, because gathering me in, as it were, by a friendlyglance, he kept it going without a check.
"I was glad of it," he repeated, emphatically. "You may be surprised atit, but then you haven't gone through the experience I've had of her.I can tell you, it was something to remember. Of course, I got off scotfree myself--as you can see. She did her best to break up my pluck forme tho'. She jolly near drove as fine a fellow as ever lived into amadhouse. What do you say to that--eh?"
Not an eyelid twitched in Mr. Stonor's enormous face. Monumental! Thespeaker looked straight into my eyes.
"It used to make me sick to think of her going about the world murderingpeople."
Jermyn approached the handkerchief a little nearer to the grate andgroaned. It was simply a habit he had.
"I've seen her once," he declared, with mournful indifference. "She hada house--"
The stranger in tweeds turned to stare down at him, surprised.
"She had three houses," he corrected, authoritatively. But Jermyn wasnot to be contradicted.
"She had a house, I say," he repeated, with dismal obstinacy. "A great,big, ugly, white thing. You could see it from miles away--sticking up."
"So you could," assented the other readily. "It was old Colchester'snotion, though he was always threatening to give her up. He couldn'tstand her racket any more, he declared; it was too much of a goodthing for him; he would wash his hands of her, if he never got hold ofanother--and so on. I daresay he would have chucked her, only--it maysurprise you--his missus wouldn't hear of it. Funny, eh? But with women,you never know how they will take a thing, and Mrs. Colchester, with hermoustaches and big eyebrows, set up for being as strong-minded as theymake them. She used to walk about in a brown silk dress, with a greatgold cable flopping about her bosom. You should have heard her snappingout: 'Rubbish!' or 'Stuff and nonsense!' I daresay she knew when she waswell off. They had no children, and had never set up a home anywhere.When in England she just made shift to hang out anyhow in some cheaphotel or boarding-house. I daresay she liked to get back to the comfortsshe was used to. She knew very well she couldn't gain by any change.And, moreover, Colchester, though a first-rate man, was not what youmay call in his first youth, and, perhaps, she may have thought that hewouldn't be able to get hold of another (as he used to say) so easily.Anyhow, for one reason or another, it was 'Rubbish' and 'Stuff andnonsense' for the good lady. I overheard once young Mr. Apse himself sayto her confidentially: 'I assure you, Mrs. Colchester, I am beginning tofeel quite unhappy about the name she's getting for herself.' 'Oh,' saysshe, with her deep little hoarse laugh, 'if one took notice of all thesilly talk,' and she showed Apse all her ugly false teeth at once. 'Itwould take more than that to make me lose my confidence in her, I assureyou,' says she."
At this point, without any change of facial expression, Mr. Stonoremitted a short, sardonic laugh. It was very impressive, but I didn'tsee the fun. I looked from one to another. The stranger on the hearthrughad an ugly smile.
"And Mr. Apse shook both Mrs. Colchester's hands, he was so pleased tohear a good word said for their favourite. All these Apses, youngand old you know, were perfectly infatuated with that abominable,dangerous--"
"I beg your pardon," I interrupted, for he seemed to be addressinghimself exclusively to me; "but who on earth are you talking about?"
"I am talking of the Apse family," he answered, courteously.
I nearly let out a damn at this. But just then the respected Miss Blankput her head in, and said that the cab was at the door, if Mr. Stonorwanted to catch the eleven three up.
At once the senior pilot arose in his mighty bulk and began to struggleinto his coat, with awe-inspiring upheavals. The stranger and I hurriedimpulsively to his assistance, and directly we laid our hands on him hebecame perfectly quiescent. We had to raise our arms very high, andto make efforts. It was like caparisoning a docile elephant. With a"Thanks, gentlemen," he dived under and squeezed himself through thedoor in a great hurry.
We smiled at each other in a friendly way.
"I wonder how he manages to hoist himself up a ship's side-ladder,"said the man in tweeds; and poor Jermyn, who was a mere North Seapilot, without official status or recognition of any sort, pilot only bycourtesy, groaned.
"He makes eight hundred a year."
"Are you a sailor?" I asked the stranger, who had gone back to hisposition on the rug.
"I used to be till a couple of years ago, when I got married," answeredthis communicative individual. "I even went to sea first in that veryship we were speaking of when you came in."
"What ship?" I asked, puzzled. "I never heard you mention a ship."
"I've just told you her name, my dear sir," he replied. "The ApseFamily. Surely you've heard of the great firm of Apse & Sons,shipowners. They had a pretty big fleet. There was the Lucy Apse, andthe Harold Apse, and Anne, John, Malcolm, Clara, Juliet, and soon--no end of Apses. Every brother, sister, aunt, cousin, wife--andgrandmother, too, for all I know--of the firm had a ship named afterthem. Good, solid, old-fashioned craft they were, too, built to carryand to last. None of your new-fangled, labour-saving appliances inthem, but pl
enty of men and plenty of good salt beef and hard tack putaboard--and off you go to fight your way out and home again."
The miserable Jermyn made a sound of approval, which sounded like agroan of pain. Those were the ships for him. He pointed out in dolefultones that you couldn't say to labour-saving appliances: "Jump livelynow, my hearties." No labour-saving appliance would go aloft on a dirtynight with the sands under your lee.
"No," assented the stranger, with a wink at me. "The Apses didn'tbelieve in them either, apparently. They treated their people well--aspeople don't get treated nowadays, and they were awfully proud of theirships. Nothing ever happened to them. This last one, the Apse Family,was to be like the others, only she was to be still stronger, stillsafer, still more roomy and comfortable. I believe they meant herto last for ever. They had her built composite--iron, teak-wood, andgreenheart, and her scantling was something fabulous. If ever an orderwas given for a ship in a spirit of pride this one was. Everything ofthe best. The commodore captain of the employ was to command her, andthey planned the accommodation for him like a house on shore undera big, tall poop that went nearly to the mainmast. No wonder Mrs.Colchester wouldn't let the old man give her up. Why, it was the besthome she ever had in all her married days. She had a nerve, that woman.
"The fuss that was made while that ship was building! Let's have this alittle stronger, and that a little heavier; and hadn't that other thingbetter be changed for something a little thicker. The builders enteredinto the spirit of the game, and there she was, growing into theclumsiest, heaviest ship of her size right before all their eyes,without anybody becoming aware of it somehow. She was to be 2,000tons register, or a little over; no less on any account. But see whathappens. When they came to measure her she turned out 1,999 tons anda fraction. General consternation! And they say old Mr. Apse was soannoyed when they told him that he took to his bed and died. The oldgentleman had retired from the firm twenty-five years before, andwas ninety-six years old if a day, so his death wasn't, perhaps, sosurprising. Still Mr. Lucian Apse was convinced that his father wouldhave lived to a hundred. So we may put him at the head of the list. Nextcomes the poor devil of a shipwright that brute caught and squashed asshe went off the ways. They called it the launch of a ship, but I'veheard people say that, from the wailing and yelling and scrambling outof the way, it was more like letting a devil loose upon the river.She snapped all her checks like pack-thread, and went for the tugs inattendance like a fury. Before anybody could see what she was up to shesent one of them to the bottom, and laid up another for three months'repairs. One of her cables parted, and then, suddenly--you couldn't tellwhy--she let herself be brought up with the other as quiet as a lamb.
"That's how she was. You could never be sure what she would be up tonext. There are ships difficult to handle, but generally you can dependon them behaving rationally. With that ship, whatever you did with heryou never knew how it would end. She was a wicked beast. Or, perhaps,she was only just insane."
He uttered this supposition in so earnest a tone that I could notrefrain from smiling. He left off biting his lower lip to apostrophizeme.
"Eh! Why not? Why couldn't there be something in her build, in her linescorresponding to--What's madness? Only something just a tiny bit wrongin the make of your brain. Why shouldn't there be a mad ship--I mean madin a ship-like way, so that under no circumstances could you be sure shewould do what any other sensible ship would naturally do for you. Thereare ships that steer wildly, and ships that can't be quite trustedalways to stay; others want careful watching when running in a gale;and, again, there may be a ship that will make heavy weather of it inevery little blow. But then you expect her to be always so. You take itas part of her character, as a ship, just as you take account of aman's peculiarities of temper when you deal with him. But with her youcouldn't. She was unaccountable. If she wasn't mad, then she was themost evil-minded, underhand, savage brute that ever went afloat. I'veseen her run in a heavy gale beautifully for two days, and on the thirdbroach to twice in the same afternoon. The first time she flung thehelmsman clean over the wheel, but as she didn't quite manage to killhim she had another try about three hours afterwards. She swampedherself fore and aft, burst all the canvas we had set, scared all handsinto a panic, and even frightened Mrs. Colchester down there in thesebeautiful stern cabins that she was so proud of. When we mustered thecrew there was one man missing. Swept overboard, of course, withoutbeing either seen or heard, poor devil! and I only wonder more of usdidn't go.
"Always something like that. Always. I heard an old mate tell CaptainColchester once that it had come to this with him, that he was afraid toopen his mouth to give any sort of order. She was as much of a terrorin harbour as at sea. You could never be certain what would hold her. Onthe slightest provocation she would start snapping ropes, cables, wirehawsers, like carrots. She was heavy, clumsy, unhandy--but that does notquite explain that power for mischief she had. You know, somehow, when Ithink of her I can't help remembering what we hear of incurable lunaticsbreaking loose now and then."
He looked at me inquisitively. But, of course, I couldn't admit that aship could be mad.
"In the ports where she was known," he went on,' "they dreaded the sightof her. She thought nothing of knocking away twenty feet or so of solidstone facing off a quay or wiping off the end of a wooden wharf. Shemust have lost miles of chain and hundreds of tons of anchors in hertime. When she fell aboard some poor unoffending ship it was thevery devil of a job to haul her off again. And she never got hurtherself--just a few scratches or so, perhaps. They had wanted to haveher strong. And so she was. Strong enough to ram Polar ice with. And asshe began so she went on. From the day she was launched she never leta year pass without murdering somebody. I think the owners got veryworried about it. But they were a stiff-necked generation all theseApses; they wouldn't admit there could be anything wrong with the ApseFamily. They wouldn't even change her name. 'Stuff and nonsense,' asMrs. Colchester used to say. They ought at least to have shut her upfor life in some dry dock or other, away up the river, and never let hersmell salt water again. I assure you, my dear sir, that she invariablydid kill someone every voyage she made. It was perfectly well-known. Shegot a name for it, far and wide."
I expressed my surprise that a ship with such a deadly reputation couldever get a crew.
"Then, you don't know what sailors are, my dear sir. Let me just showyou by an instance. One day in dock at home, while loafing on theforecastle head, I noticed two respectable salts come along, one amiddle-aged, competent, steady man, evidently, the other a smart,youngish chap. They read the name on the bows and stopped to look ather. Says the elder man: 'Apse Family. That's the sanguinary female dog'(I'm putting it in that way) 'of a ship, Jack, that kills a man everyvoyage. I wouldn't sign in her--not for Joe, I wouldn't.' And the othersays: 'If she were mine, I'd have her towed on the mud and set on fire,blame if I wouldn't.' Then the first man chimes in: 'Much do they care!Men are cheap, God knows.' The younger one spat in the water alongside.'They won't have me--not for double wages.'
"They hung about for some time and then walked up the dock. Half anhour later I saw them both on our deck looking about for the mate, andapparently very anxious to be taken on. And they were."
"How do you account for this?" I asked.
"What would you say?" he retorted. "Recklessness! The vanity ofboasting in the evening to all their chums: 'We've just shipped inthat there Apse Family. Blow her. She ain't going to scare us.' Sheersailorlike perversity! A sort of curiosity. Well--a little of all that,no doubt. I put the question to them in the course of the voyage. Theanswer of the elderly chap was:
"'A man can die but once.' The younger assured me in a mocking tone thathe wanted to see 'how she would do it this time.' But I tell you what;there was a sort of fascination about the brute."
Jermyn, who seemed to have seen every ship in the world, broke insulkily:
"I saw her once out of this very window towing up the river; a greatblack ugly thing,
going along like a big hearse."
"Something sinister about her looks, wasn't there?" said the man intweeds, looking down at old Jermyn with a friendly eye. "I always hada sort of horror of her. She gave me a beastly shock when I was no morethan fourteen, the very first day--nay, hour--I joined her. Father cameup to see me off, and was to go down to Gravesend with us. I was hissecond boy to go to sea. My big brother was already an officer then. We.got on board about eleven in the morning, and found the ship ready todrop out of the basin, stern first. She had not moved three times herown length when, at a little pluck the tug gave her to enter the dockgates, she made one of her rampaging starts, and put such a weight onthe check rope--a new six-inch hawser--that forward there they had nochance to ease it round in time, and it parted. I saw the broken end flyup high in the air, and the next moment that brute brought her quarteragainst the pier-head with a jar that staggered everybody about herdecks. She didn't hurt herself. Not she! But one of the boys themate had sent aloft on the mizzen to do something, came down on thepoop-deck--thump--right in front of me. He was not much older thanmyself. We had been grinning at each other only a few minutes before. Hemust have been handling himself carelessly, not expecting to get such ajerk. I heard his startled cry--Oh!--in a high treble as he felt himselfgoing, and looked up in time to see him go limp all over as he fell.Ough! Poor father was remarkably white about the gills when we shookhands in Gravesend. 'Are you all right?' he says, looking hard at me.'Yes, father.' 'Quite sure?' 'Yes, father.' 'Well, then good-bye, myboy.' He told me afterwards that for half a word he would have carriedme off home with him there and then. I am the baby of the family--youknow," added the man in tweeds, stroking his moustache with an ingenuoussmile.
I acknowledged this interesting communication by a sympathetic murmur.He waved his hand carelessly.
"This might have utterly spoiled a chap's nerve for going aloft, youknow--utterly. He fell within two feet of me, cracking his head on amooring-bitt. Never moved. Stone dead. Nice looking little fellow, hewas. I had just been thinking we would be great chums. However, thatwasn't yet the worst that brute of a ship could do. I served in herthree years of my time, and then I got transferred to the Lucy Apse, fora year. The sailmaker we had in the Apse Family turned up there, too,and I remember him saying to me one evening, after we had been a week atsea: Isn't she a meek little ship?' No wonder we thought the Lucy Apsea dear, meek, little ship after getting clear of that big, rampagingsavage brute. It was like heaven. Her officers seemed to me therestfullest lot of men on earth. To me who had known no ship but theApse Family, the Lucy was like a sort of magic craft that did what youwanted her to do of her own accord. One evening we got caught abackpretty sharply from right ahead. In about ten minutes we had her fullagain, sheets aft, tacks down, decks cleared, and the officer of thewatch leaning against the weather rail peacefully. It seemed simplymarvellous to me. The other would have stuck for half-an-hour in irons,rolling her decks full of water, knocking the men about--spars cracking,braces snapping, yards taking charge, and a confounded scare going onaft because of her beastly rudder, which she had a way of flapping aboutfit to raise your hair on end. I couldn't get over my wonder for days.
"Well, I finished my last year of apprenticeship in that jolly littleship--she wasn't so little either, but after that other heavy devil sheseemed but a plaything to handle. I finished my time and passed; andthen just as I was thinking of having three weeks of real good time onshore I got at breakfast a letter asking me the earliest day I couldbe ready to join the Apse Family as third mate. I gave my plate a shovethat shot it into the middle of the table; dad looked up over his paper;mother raised her hands in astonishment, and I went out bare-headed intoour bit of garden, where I walked round and round for an hour.
"When I came in again mother was out of the dining-room, and dadhad shifted berth into his big armchair. The letter was lying on themantelpiece.
"'It's very creditable to you to get the offer, and very kind of them tomake it,' he said. 'And I see also that Charles has been appointed chiefmate of that ship for one voyage.'
"There was, over leaf, a P.S. to that effect in Mr. Apse's ownhandwriting, which I had overlooked. Charley was my big brother.
"I don't like very much to have two of my boys together in one ship,'father goes on, in his deliberate, solemn way. 'And I may tell you thatI would not mind writing Mr. Apse a letter to that effect.'
"Dear old dad! He was a wonderful father. What would you have done? Themere notion of going back (and as an officer, too), to be worried andbothered, and kept on the jump night and day by that brute, made me feelsick. But she wasn't a ship you could afford to fight shy of. Besides,the most genuine excuse could not be given without mortally offendingApse & Sons. The firm, and I believe the whole family down to the oldunmarried aunts in Lancashire, had grown desperately touchy about thataccursed ship's character. This was the case for answering 'Ready now'from your very death-bed if you wished to die in their good graces. Andthat's precisely what I did answer--by wire, to have it over and donewith at once.
"The prospect of being shipmates with my big brother cheered me upconsiderably, though it made me a bit anxious, too. Ever since Iremember myself as a little chap he had been very good to me, and Ilooked upon him as the finest fellow in the world. And so he was. Nobetter officer ever walked the deck of a merchant ship. And that's afact. He was a fine, strong, upstanding, sun-tanned, young fellow, withhis brown hair curling a little, and an eye like a hawk. He was justsplendid. We hadn't seen each other for many years, and even this time,though he had been in England three weeks already, he hadn't showed upat home yet, but had spent his spare time in Surrey somewhere makingup to Maggie Colchester, old Captain Colchester's niece. Her father, agreat friend of dad's, was in the sugar-broking business, and Charleymade a sort of second home of their house. I wondered what my bigbrother would think of me. There was a sort of sternness about Charley'sface which never left it, not even when he was larking in his ratherwild fashion.
"He received me with a great shout of laughter. He seemed to thinkmy joining as an officer the greatest joke in the world. There was adifference of ten years between us, and I suppose he remembered mebest in pinafores. I was a kid of four when he first went to sea. Itsurprised me to find how boisterous he could be.
"'Now we shall see what you are made of,' he cried. And he held me offby the shoulders, and punched my ribs, and hustled me into his berth.'Sit down, Ned. I am glad of the chance of having you with me. I'll putthe finishing touch to you, my young officer, providing you're worth thetrouble. And, first of all, get it well into your head that we arenot going to let this brute kill anybody this voyage. We'll stop herracket.'
"I perceived he was in dead earnest about it. He talked grimly of theship, and how we must be careful and never allow this ugly beast tocatch us napping with any of her damned tricks.
"He gave me a regular lecture on special seamanship for the use of theApse Family; then changing his tone, he began to talk at large, rattlingoff the wildest, funniest nonsense, till my sides ached with laughing.I could see very well he was a bit above himself with high spirits. Itcouldn't be because of my coming. Not to that extent. But, of course,I wouldn't have dreamt of asking what was the matter. I had a properrespect for my big brother, I can tell you. But it was all made plainenough a day or two afterwards, when I heard that Miss Maggie Colchesterwas coming for the voyage. Uncle was giving her a sea-trip for thebenefit of her health.
"I don't know what could have been wrong with her health. She had abeautiful colour, and a deuce of a lot of fair hair. She didn't care arap for wind, or rain, or spray, or sun, or green seas, or anything.She was a blue-eyed, jolly girl of the very best sort, but the way shecheeked my big brother used to frighten me. I always expected it to endin an awful row. However, nothing decisive happened till after we hadbeen in Sydney for a week. One day, in the men's dinner hour, Charleysticks his head into my cabin. I was stretched out on my back on thesettee, smoking in peace.
/> "'Come ashore with me, Ned,' he says, in his curt way.
"I jumped up, of course, and away after him down the gangway andup George Street. He strode along like a giant, and I at his elbow,panting. It was confoundedly hot. 'Where on earth are you rushing me to,Charley?' I made bold to ask.
"'Here,' he says.
"'Here' was a jeweller's shop. I couldn't imagine what he could wantthere. It seemed a sort of mad freak. He thrusts under my nose threerings, which looked very tiny on his big, brown palm, growling out--
"'For Maggie! Which?'
"I got a kind of scare at this. I couldn't make a sound, but I pointedat the one that sparkled white and blue. He put it in his waistcoatpocket, paid for it with a lot of sovereigns, and bolted out. Whenwe got on board I was quite out of breath. 'Shake hands, old chap,' Igasped out. He gave me a thump on the back. 'Give what orders you liketo the boatswain when the hands turn-to,' says he; 'I am off duty thisafternoon.'
"Then he vanished from the deck for a while, but presently he came outof the cabin with Maggie, and these two went over the gangway publicly,before all hands, going for a walk together on that awful, blazing hotday, with clouds of dust flying about. They came back after a few hourslooking very staid, but didn't seem to have the slightest idea wherethey had been. Anyway, that's the answer they both made to Mrs.Colchester's question at tea-time.
"And didn't she turn on Charley, with her voice like an old nightcabman's! 'Rubbish. Don't know where you've been! Stuff and nonsense.You've walked the girl off her legs. Don't do it again.'
"It's surprising how meek Charley could be with that old woman. Onlyon one occasion he whispered to me, 'I'm jolly glad she isn't Maggie'saunt, except by marriage. That's no sort of relationship.' But I thinkhe let Maggie have too much of her own way. She was hopping all overthat ship in her yachting skirt and a red tam o' shanter like a brightbird on a dead black tree. The old salts used to grin to themselves whenthey saw her coming along, and offered to teach her knots or splices. Ibelieve she liked the men, for Charley's sake, I suppose.
"As you may imagine, the fiendish propensities of that cursed ship werenever spoken of on board. Not in the cabin, at any rate. Only onceon the homeward passage Charley said, incautiously, something aboutbringing all her crew home this time. Captain Colchester began to lookuncomfortable at once, and that silly, hard-bitten old woman flew out atCharley as though he had said something indecent. I was quite confoundedmyself; as to Maggie, she sat completely mystified, opening her blueeyes very wide. Of course, before she was a day older she wormed it allout of me. She was a very difficult person to lie to.
"'How awful,' she said, quite solemn. 'So many poor fellows. I am gladthe voyage is nearly over. I won't have a moment's peace about Charleynow.'
"I assured her Charley was all right. It took more than that ship knewto get over a seaman like Charley. And she agreed with me.
"Next day we got the tug off Dungeness; and when the tow-rope was fastCharley rubbed his hands and said to me in an undertone--
"'We've baffled her, Ned.'
"'Looks like it,' I said, with a grin at him. It was beautiful weather,and the sea as smooth as a millpond. We went up the river without ashadow of trouble except once, when off Hole Haven, the brute took asudden sheer and nearly had a barge anchored just clear of the fairway.But I was aft, looking after the steering, and she did not catch menapping that time. Charley came up on the poop, looking very concerned.'Close shave,' says he.
"'Never mind, Charley,' I answered, cheerily. 'You've tamed her.'
"We were to tow right up to the dock. The river pilot boarded us belowGravesend, and the first words I heard him say were: 'You may just aswell take your port anchor inboard at once, Mr. Mate.'
"This had been done when I went forward. I saw Maggie on the forecastlehead enjoying the bustle and I begged her to go aft, but she took nonotice of me, of course. Then Charley, who was very busy with the headgear, caught sight of her and shouted in his biggest voice: 'Get offthe forecastle head, Maggie. You're in the way here.' For all answershe made a funny face at him, and I saw poor Charley turn away, hidinga smile. She was flushed with the excitement of getting home again, andher blue eyes seemed to snap electric sparks as she looked at the river.A collier brig had gone round just ahead of us, and our tug had to stopher engines in a hurry to avoid running into her.
"In a moment, as is usually the case, all the shipping in the reachseemed to get into a hopeless tangle. A schooner and a ketch got up asmall collision all to themselves right in the middle of the river.It was exciting to watch, and, meantime, our tug remained stopped. Anyother ship than that brute could have been coaxed to keep straight for acouple of minutes--but not she! Her head fell off at once, and she beganto drift down, taking her tug along with her. I noticed a cluster ofcoasters at anchor within a quarter of a mile of us, and I thought Ihad better speak to the pilot. 'If you let her get amongst that lot,'I said, quietly, 'she will grind some of them to bits before we get herout again.'
"'Don't I know her!' cries he, stamping his foot in a perfect fury. Andhe out with his whistle to make that bothered tug get the ship's headup again as quick as possible. He blew like mad, waving his arm to port,and presently we could see that the tug's engines had been set goingahead. Her paddles churned the water, but it was as if she had beentrying to tow a rock--she couldn't get an inch out of that ship. Againthe pilot blew his whistle, and waved his arm to port. We could see thetug's paddles turning faster and faster away, broad on our bow.
"For a moment tug and ship hung motionless in a crowd of movingshipping, and then the terrific strain that evil, stony-hearted brutewould always put on everything, tore the towing-chock clean out. Thetow-rope surged over, snapping the iron stanchions of the head-rail oneafter another as if they had been sticks of sealing-wax. It was onlythen I noticed that in order to have a better view over our heads,Maggie had stepped upon the port anchor as it lay flat on the forecastledeck.
"It had been lowered properly into its hardwood beds, but there had beenno time to take a turn with it. Anyway, it was quite secure as it was,for going into dock; but I could see directly that the tow-rope wouldsweep under the fluke in another second. My heart flew up right intomy throat, but not before I had time to yell out: 'Jump clear of thatanchor!'
"But I hadn't time to shriek out her name. I don't suppose she heard meat all. The first touch of the hawser against the fluke threw her down;she was up on her feet again quick as lightning, but she was up on thewrong side. I heard a horrid, scraping sound, and then that anchor,tipping over, rose up like something alive; its great, rough iron armcaught Maggie round the waist, seemed to clasp her close with a dreadfulhug, and flung itself with her over and down in a terrific clang ofiron, followed by heavy ringing blows that shook the ship from stem tostern--because the ring stopper held!"
"How horrible!" I exclaimed.
"I used to dream for years afterwards of anchors catching hold ofgirls," said the man in tweeds, a little wildly. He shuddered. "With amost pitiful howl Charley was over after her almost on the instant. But,Lord! he didn't see as much as a gleam of her red tam o' shanter in thewater. Nothing! nothing whatever! In a moment there were half-a-dozenboats around us, and he got pulled into one. I, with the boatswain andthe carpenter, let go the other anchor in a hurry and brought theship up somehow. The pilot had gone silly. He walked up and down theforecastle head wringing his hands and muttering to himself: 'Killingwomen, now! Killing women, now!' Not another word could you get out ofhim.
"Dusk fell, then a night black as pitch; and peering upon the river Iheard a low, mournful hail, 'Ship, ahoy!' Two Gravesend watermen camealongside. They had a lantern in their wherry, and looked up the ship'sside, holding on to the ladder without a word. I saw in the patch oflight a lot of loose, fair hair down there."
He shuddered again.
"After the tide turned poor Maggie's body had floated clear of one ofthem big mooring buoys," he explained. "I crept aft, feeling half-dead,and managed to se
nd a rocket up--to let the other searchers know, onthe river. And then I slunk away forward like a cur, and spent the nightsitting on the heel of the bowsprit so as to be as far as possible outof Charley's way."
"Poor fellow!" I murmured.
"Yes. Poor fellow," he repeated, musingly. "That brute wouldn't lethim--not even him--cheat her of her prey. But he made her fast in docknext morning. He did. We hadn't exchanged a word--not a single look forthat matter. I didn't want to look at him. When the last rope was fasthe put his hands to his head and stood gazing down at his feet as iftrying to remember something. The men waited on the main deck forthe words that end the voyage. Perhaps that is what he was trying toremember. I spoke for him. 'That'll do, men.'
"I never saw a crew leave a ship so quietly. They sneaked over the railone after another, taking care not to bang their sea chests too heavily.They looked our way, but not one had the stomach to come up and offer toshake hands with the mate as is usual.
"I followed him all over the empty ship to and fro, here and there, withno living soul about but the two of us, because the old ship-keeperhad locked himself up in the galley--both doors. Suddenly poor Charleymutters, in a crazy voice: 'I'm done here,' and strides down the gangwaywith me at his heels, up the dock, out at the gate, on towards TowerHill. He used to take rooms with a decent old landlady in AmericaSquare, to be near his work.
"All at once he stops short, turns round, and comes back straight atme. 'Ned,' says he, I am going home.' I had the good luck to sight afour-wheeler and got him in just in time. His legs were beginning togive way. In our hall he fell down on a chair, and I'll never forgetfather's and mother's amazed, perfectly still faces as they stood overhim. They couldn't understand what had happened to him till I blubberedout, 'Maggie got drowned, yesterday, in the river.'
"Mother let out a little cry. Father looks from him to me, and from meto him, as if comparing our faces--for, upon my soul, Charley did notresemble himself at all. Nobody moved; and the poor fellow raises hisbig brown hands slowly to his throat, and with one single tug ripseverything open--collar, shirt, waistcoat--a perfect wreck and ruin ofa man. Father and I got him upstairs somehow, and mother pretty nearlykilled herself nursing him through a brain fever."
The man in tweeds nodded at me significantly.
"Ah! there was nothing that could be done with that brute. She had adevil in her."
"Where's your brother?" I asked, expecting to hear he was dead. But hewas commanding a smart steamer on the China coast, and never came homenow.
Jermyn fetched a heavy sigh, and the handkerchief being now sufficientlydry, put it up tenderly to his red and lamentable nose.
"She was a ravening beast," the man in tweeds started again. "OldColchester put his foot down and resigned. And would you believe it?Apse & Sons wrote to ask whether he wouldn't reconsider his decision!Anything to save the good name of the Apse Family.' Old Colchester wentto the office then and said that he would take charge again but only tosail her out into the North Sea and scuttle her there. He was nearly offhis chump. He used to be darkish iron-grey, but his hair went snow-whitein a fortnight. And Mr. Lucian Apse (they had known each other as youngmen) pretended not to notice it. Eh? Here's infatuation if you like!Here's pride for you!
"They jumped at the first man they could get to take her, for fear ofthe scandal of the Apse Family not being able to find a skipper. He wasa festive soul, I believe, but he stuck to her grim and hard. Wilmot washis second mate. A harum-scarum fellow, and pretending to a great scornfor all the girls. The fact is he was really timid. But let only one ofthem do as much as lift her little finger in encouragement, and therewas nothing that could hold the beggar. As apprentice, once, he desertedabroad after a petticoat, and would have gone to the dogs then, if hisskipper hadn't taken the trouble to find him and lug him by the ears outof some house of perdition or other.
"It was said that one of the firm had been heard once to express a hopethat this brute of a ship would get lost soon. I can hardly credit thetale, unless it might have been Mr. Alfred Apse, whom the family didn'tthink much of. They had him in the office, but he was considered abad egg altogether, always flying off to race meetings and coming homedrunk. You would have thought that a ship so full of deadly tricks wouldrun herself ashore some day out of sheer cussedness. But not she! Shewas going to last for ever. She had a nose to keep off the bottom."
Jermyn made a grunt of approval.
"A ship after a pilot's own heart, eh?" jeered the man in tweeds. "Well,Wilmot managed it. He was the man for it, but even he, perhaps, couldn'thave done the trick without the green-eyed governess, or nurse, orwhatever she was to the children of Mr. and Mrs. Pamphilius.
"Those people were passengers in her from Port Adelaide to theCape. Well, the ship went out and anchored outside for the day. Theskipper--hospitable soul--had a lot of guests from town to a farewelllunch--as usual with him. It was five in the evening before the lastshore boat left the side, and the weather looked ugly and dark in thegulf. There was no reason for him to get under way. However, as he hadtold everybody he was going that day, he imagined it was proper to do soanyhow. But as he had no mind after all these festivities to tackle thestraits in the dark, with a scant wind, he gave orders to keep the shipunder lower topsails and foresail as close as she would lie, dodgingalong the land till the morning. Then he sought his virtuous couch.The mate was on deck, having his face washed very clean with hard rainsqualls. Wilmot relieved him at midnight.
"The Apse Family had, as you observed, a house on her poop . . ."
"A big, ugly white thing, sticking up," Jermyn murmured, sadly, at thefire.
"That's it: a companion for the cabin stairs and a sort of chart-roomcombined. The rain drove in gusts on the sleepy Wilmot. The ship wasthen surging slowly to the southward, close hauled, with the coastwithin three miles or so to windward. There was nothing to look out forin that part of the gulf, and Wilmot went round to dodge the squallsunder the lee of that chart-room, whose door on that side was open. Thenight was black, like a barrel of coal-tar. And then he heard a woman'svoice whispering to him.
"That confounded green-eyed girl of the Pamphilius people had put thekids to bed a long time ago, of course, but it seems couldn't get tosleep herself. She heard eight bells struck, and the chief mate comebelow to turn in. She waited a bit, then got into her dressing-gown andstole across the empty saloon and up the stairs into the chart-room. Shesat down on the settee near the open door to cool herself, I daresay.
"I suppose when she whispered to Wilmot it was as if somebody had strucka match in the fellow's brain. I don't know how it was they had got sovery thick. I fancy he had met her ashore a few times before. I couldn'tmake it out, because, when telling the story, Wilmot would break off toswear something awful at every second word. We had met on the quay inSydney, and he had an apron of sacking up to his chin, a big whip in hishand. A wagon-driver. Glad to do anything not to starve. That's what hehad come down to.
"However, there he was, with his head inside the door, on the girl'sshoulder as likely as not--officer of the watch! The helmsman, on givinghis evidence afterwards, said that he shouted several times that thebinnacle lamp had gone out. It didn't matter to him, because his orderswere to 'sail her close.' 'I thought it funny,' he said, 'that the shipshould keep on falling off in squalls, but I luffed her up every timeas close as I was able. It was so dark I couldn't see my hand before myface, and the rain came in bucketfuls on my head.'
"The truth was that at every squall the wind hauled aft a little, tillgradually the ship came to be heading straight for the coast, without asingle soul in her being aware of it. Wilmot himself confessed that hehad not been near the standard compass for an hour. He might well haveconfessed! The first thing he knew was the man on the look-out shoutingblue murder forward there.
"He tore his neck free, he says, and yelled back at him: 'What do yousay?'
"'I think I hear breakers ahead, sir,' howled the man, and came rushingaft with the rest of the watch,
in the 'awfullest blinding deluge thatever fell from the sky,' Wilmot says. For a second or so he was soscared and bewildered that he could not remember on which side of thegulf the ship was. He wasn't a good officer, but he was a seaman allthe same. He pulled himself together in a second, and the right orderssprang to his lips without thinking. They were to hard up with the helmand shiver the main and mizzen-topsails.
"It seems that the sails actually fluttered. He couldn't see them, buthe heard them rattling and banging above his head. 'No use! She was tooslow in going off,' he went on, his dirty face twitching, and the damn'dcarter's whip shaking in his hand. 'She seemed to stick fast.' And thenthe flutter of the canvas above his head ceased. At this critical momentthe wind hauled aft again with a gust, filling the sails and sending theship with a great way upon the rocks on her lee bow. She had overreachedherself in her last little game. Her time had come--the hour, the man,the black night, the treacherous gust of wind--the right woman to putan end to her. The brute deserved nothing better. Strange are theinstruments of Providence. There's a sort of poetical justice--"
The man in tweeds looked hard at me.
"The first ledge she went over stripped the false keel off her. Rip! Theskipper, rushing out of his berth, found a crazy woman, in a red flanneldressing-gown, flying round and round the cuddy, screeching like acockatoo.
"The next bump knocked her clean under the cabin table. It also startedthe stern-post and carried away the rudder, and then that brute ran up ashelving, rocky shore, tearing her bottom out, till she stopped short,and the foremast dropped over the bows like a gangway."
"Anybody lost?" I asked.
"No one, unless that fellow, Wilmot," answered the gentleman, unknownto Miss Blank, looking round for his cap. "And his case was worse thandrowning for a man. Everybody got ashore all right. Gale didn't comeon till next day, dead from the West, and broke up that brute in asurprisingly short time. It was as though she had been rotten at heart.". . . He changed his tone, "Rain left off? I must get my bike and rushhome to dinner. I live in Herne Bay--came out for a spin this morning."
He nodded at me in a friendly way, and went out with a swagger.
"Do you know who he is, Jermyn?" I asked.
The North Sea pilot shook his head, dismally. "Fancy losing a ship inthat silly fashion! Oh, dear! oh dear!" he groaned in lugubrious tones,spreading his damp handkerchief again like a curtain before the glowinggrate.
On going out I exchanged a glance and a smile (strictly proper) with therespectable Miss Blank, barmaid of the Three Crows.
A DESPERATE TALE