Produced by David Widger
THE LADY OF THE BARGE
AND OTHER STORIES
By W. W. Jacobs
THE LADY OF THE BARGE
The master of the barge Arabella sat in the stern of his craft with hisright arm leaning on the tiller. A desultory conversation with the mateof a schooner, who was hanging over the side of his craft a few yardsoff, had come to a conclusion owing to a difference of opinion on thesubject of religion. The skipper had argued so warmly that he almostfancied he must have inherited the tenets of the Seventh-day Baptistsfrom his mother while the mate had surprised himself by the warmth of hisadvocacy of a form of Wesleyanism which would have made the members ofthat sect open their eyes with horror. He had, moreover, confirmed theskipper in the error of his ways by calling him a bargee, the ranks ofthe Baptists receiving a defender if not a recruit from that hour.
With the influence of the religious argument still upon him, the skipper,as the long summer's day gave place to night, fell to wondering where hisown mate, who was also his brother-in-law, had got to. Lights which hadbeen struggling with the twilight now burnt bright and strong, and theskipper, moving from the shadow to where a band of light fell across thedeck, took out a worn silver watch and saw that it was ten o'clock.
Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above andbegan to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of twenty-twosprang nimbly to the deck.
"Ten o'clock, Ted," said the skipper, slowly. "It 'll be eleven in anhour's time," said the mate, calmly.
"That 'll do," said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticedthat his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position,and a fortuitous expression of his mother's occurred to him: "Don't talkto me; I've been arguing with a son of Belial for the last half-hour."
"Bargee," said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice.
"Don't take no notice of him, Ted," said the skipper, pityingly.
"He wasn't talking to me," said Ted. "But never mind about him; I wantto speak to you in private."
"Fire away, my lad," said the other, in a patronizing voice.
"Speak up," said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. "I'mlistening."
There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the cabin,and lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, took a seaton a locker, and again requested the other to fire away.
"Well, you see, it's this way," began the mate, with a preliminarywriggle: "there's a certain young woman--"
"A certain young what?" shouted the master of the Arabella.
"Woman," repeated the mate, snappishly; "you've heard of a woman afore,haven't you? Well, there's a certain young woman I'm walking outwith I--"
"Walking out?" gasped the skipper. "Why, I never 'eard o' such athing."
"You would ha' done if you'd been better looking, p'raps," retorted theother. "Well, I've offered this young woman to come for a trip with us."
"Oh, you have, 'ave you!" said the skipper, sharply. "And what do youthink Louisa will say to it?"
"That's your look out," said Louisa's brother, cheerfully. "I'll makeher up a bed for'ard, and we'll all be as happy as you please."
He started suddenly. The mate of the schooner was indulging in a seriesof whistles of the most amatory description.
"There she is," he said. "I told her to wait outside."
He ran upon deck, and his perturbed brother-in-law, following at hisleisure, was just in time to see him descending the ladder with a youngwoman and a small handbag.
"This is my brother-in-law, Cap'n Gibbs," said Ted, introducing the newarrival; "smartest man at a barge on the river."
The girl extended a neatly gloved hand, shook the skipper's affably, andlooked wonderingly about her.
"It's very close to the water, Ted," she said, dubiously.
The skipper coughed. "We don't take passengers as a rule," he said,awkwardly; "we 'ain't got much convenience for them."
"Never mind," said the girl, kindly; "I sha'nt expect too much."
She turned away, and following the mate down to the cabin, went intoecstasies over the space-saving contrivances she found there. Thedrawers fitted in the skipper's bunk were a source of particularinterest, and the owner watched with strong disapprobation through theskylight her efforts to make him an apple-pie bed with the limited meansat her disposal. He went down below at once as a wet blanket.
"I was just shaking your bed up a bit," said Miss Harris, reddening.
"I see you was," said the skipper, briefly.
He tried to pluck up courage to tell her that he couldn't take her, butonly succeeded in giving vent to an inhospitable cough.
"I'll get the supper," said the mate, suddenly; "you sit down, old man,and talk to Lucy."
In honour of the visitor he spread a small cloth, and then proceeded toproduce cold beef, pickles, and accessories in a manner which remindedMiss Harris of white rabbits from a conjurer's hat. Captain Gibbs,accepting the inevitable, ate his supper in silence and left them totheir glances.
"We must make you up a bed, for'ard, Lucy," said the mate, when they hadfinished.
Miss Harris started. "Where's that?" she inquired.
"Other end o' the boat," replied the mate, gathering up some beddingunder his arm. "You might bring a lantern, John."
The skipper, who was feeling more sociable after a couple of glasses ofbeer, complied, and accompanied the couple to the tiny forecastle. Asmell compounded of bilge, tar, paint, and other healthy disinfectantsemerged as the scuttle was pushed back. The skipper dangled the lanterndown and almost smiled.
"I can't sleep there," said the girl, with decision. "I shall die o'fright."
"You'll get used to it," said Ted, encouragingly, as he helped her down;"it's quite dry and comfortable."
He put his arm round her waist and squeezed her hand, and aided by thismoral support, Miss Harris not only consented to remain, but foundvarious advantages in the forecastle over the cabin, which had escapedthe notice of previous voyagers.
"I'll leave you the lantern," said the mate, making it fast, "and weshall be on deck most o' the night. We get under way at two."
He quitted the forecastle, followed by the skipper, after a polite butfutile attempt to give him precedence, and made his way to the cabin fortwo or three hours' sleep.
"There'll be a row at the other end, Ted," said the skipper, nervously,as he got into his bunk. "Louisa's sure to blame me for letting you keepcompany with a gal like this. We was talking about you only the otherday, and she said if you was married five years from now, it 'ud be quitesoon enough."
"Let Loo mind her own business," said the mate, sharply; "she's not goingto nag me. She's not my wife, thank goodness!"
He turned over and fell fast asleep, waking up fresh and bright threehours later, to commence what he fondly thought would be the pleasantestvoyage of his life.
The Arabella dropped slowly down with the tide, the wind being so lightthat she was becalmed by every tall warehouse on the way. Off Greenwich,however, the breeze freshened somewhat, and a little later Miss Harris,looking somewhat pale as to complexion and untidy as to hair, came slowlyon deck.
"Where's the looking-glass?" she asked, as Ted hastened to greet her."How does my hair look?"
"All wavy," said the infatuated young man; "all little curls andsquiggles. Come down in the cabin; there's a glass there."
Miss Harris, with a light nod to the skipper as he sat at the tiller,followed the mate below, and giving vent to a little cry of indignationas she saw herself in the glass, waved the amorous Ted on deck, andstarted work on her disarranged hair.
At breakfast-time a little fric
tion was caused by what the mate bitterlytermed the narrow-minded, old-fashioned ways of the skipper. He hadarranged that the skipper should steer while he and Miss Harrisbreakfasted, but the coffee was no sooner on the table than the skippercalled him, and relinquishing the helm in his favour, went below to dothe honours. The mate protested.
"It's not proper," said the skipper. "Me and 'er will 'ave our mealstogether, and then you must have yours. She's