The Brute
An Indignant TaleDODGING in from the rain-swept street, I exchangeda smile and a glance with Miss Blank in the bar of theThree Crows. This exchange was effected with ex-treme 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 parti-tion of glass and varnished wood, Miss Blank was goodenough to say, encouragingly:"Only Mr. Jermyn and Mr. Stonor in the parlour withanother gentleman I've never seen before."I moved towards the parlour door. A voice dis-coursing on the other side (it was but a matchboardpartition), rose so loudly that the concluding wordsbecame 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 nothingprofane or improper in it, failed to do as much as tocheck the slight yawn Miss Blank was achieving behindher hand. And she remained gazing fixedly at thewindow-panes, which streamed with rain.As I opened the parlour door the same voice went onin the same cruel strain:"I was glad when I heard she got the knock fromsomebody at last. Sorry enough for poor Wilmot,though. That man and I used to be chums at onetime. Of course that was the end of him. A clearcase if there ever was one. No way out of it. Noneat all."The voice belonged to the gentleman Miss Blank hadnever seen before. He straddled his long legs on thehearthrug. Jermyn, leaning forward, held his pocket-handkerchief spread out before the grate. He lookedback dismally over his shoulder, and as I slipped behindone of the little wooden tables, I nodded to him. Onthe other side of the fire, imposingly calm and large,sat Mr. Stonor, jammed tight into a capacious Windsorarmchair. There was nothing small about him buthis short, white side-whiskers. Yards and yards ofextra superfine blue cloth (made up into an overcoat)reposed on a chair by his side. And he must justhave brought some liner from sea, because anotherchair was smothered under his black waterproof,ample as a pall, and made of three-fold oiled silk,double-stitched throughout. A man's hand-bag of theusual size looked like a child's toy on the floor nearhis feet.I did not nod to him. He was too big to be noddedto in that parlour. He was a senior Trinity pilot andcondescended to take his turn in the cutter only duringthe summer months. He had been many times incharge of royal yachts in and out of Port Victoria.Besides, it's no use nodding to a monument. And hewas like one. He didn't speak, he didn't budge. Hejust sat there, holding his handsome old head up,immovable, and almost bigger than life. It was ex-tremely fine. Mr. Stonor's presence reduced poor oldJermyn to a mere shabby wisp of a man, and made thetalkative stranger in tweeds on the hearthrug lookabsurdly boyish. The latter must have been a fewyears over thirty, and was certainly not the sort ofindividual that gets abashed at the sound of his ownvoice, 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. "Youmay be surprised at it, but then you haven't gonethrough 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 breakup my pluck for me tho'. She jolly near drove as fine afellow as ever lived into a madhouse. What do you sayto that -- eh?"Not an eyelid twitched in Mr. Stonor's enormous face.Monumental! The speaker looked straight into myeyes."It used to make me sick to think of her goingabout the world murdering people."Jermyn approached the handkerchief a little nearerto the grate and groaned. It was simply a habit he had."I've seen her once," he declared, with mournful in-difference. "She had a house --"The stranger in tweeds turned to stare down at him,surprised."She had three houses," he corrected, authoritatively.But Jermyn was not to be contradicted."She had a house, I say," he repeated, with dismalobstinacy. "A great, big, ugly, white thing. You couldsee it from miles away -- sticking up.""So you could," assented the other readily. "It wasold Colchester's notion, though he was always threaten-ing to give her up. He couldn't stand her racket anymore, he declared; it was too much of a good thing forhim; he would wash his hands of her, if he never gothold of another -- and so on. I daresay he would havechucked her, only -- it may surprise you -- his missuswouldn't hear of it. Funny, eh? But with women,you never know how they will take a thing, and Mrs.Colchester, with her moustaches and big eyebrows, setup for being as strong-minded as they make them. Sheused to walk about in a brown silk dress, with a greatgold cable flopping about her bosom. You should haveheard her snapping out: 'Rubbish!' or 'Stuff and non-sense!' I daresay she knew when she was well off.They had no children, and had never set up a home any-where. When in England she just made shift to hangout anyhow in some cheap hotel or boarding-house. Idaresay she liked to get back to the comforts she wasused to. She knew very well she couldn't gain by anychange. And, moreover, Colchester, though a first-rate man, was not what you may call in his first youth,and, perhaps, she may have thought that he wouldn'tbe able to get hold of another (as he used to say) soeasily. Anyhow, for one reason or another, it was'Rubbish' and 'Stuff and nonsense' for the good lady.I overheard once young Mr. Apse himself say to herconfidentially: 'I assure you, Mrs. Colchester, I ambeginning to feel quite unhappy about the name she'sgetting for herself.' 'Oh,' says she, with her deep littlehoarse laugh, 'if one took notice of all the silly talk,'and she showed Apse all her ugly false teeth at once.'It would take more than that to make me lose myconfidence in her, I assure you,' says she."At this point, without any change of facial expression,Mr. Stonor emitted a short, sardonic laugh. It wasvery impressive, but I didn't see the fun. I looked fromone to another. The stranger on the hearthrug had anugly smile."And Mr. Apse shook both Mrs. Colchester's hands,he was so pleased to hear a good word said for theirfavourite. All these Apses, young and old you know,were perfectly infatuated with that abominable, dan-gerous --""I beg your pardon," I interrupted, for he seemedto be addressing himself exclusively to me; "but whoon 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 therespected Miss Blank put her head in, and said that thecab was at the door, if Mr. Stonor wanted to catch theeleven three up.At once the senior pilot arose in his mighty bulk andbegan to struggle into his coat, with awe-inspiring up-heavals. The stranger and I hurried impulsively to hisassistance, and directly we laid our hands on him hebecame perfectly quiescent. We had to raise our armsvery high, and to make efforts. It was like caparisoninga docile elephant. With a "Thanks, gentlemen," hedived under and squeezed himself through the door in agreat hurry.We smiled at each other in a friendly way."I wonder how he manages to hoist himself up aship's side-ladder," said the man in tweeds; and poorJermyn, who was a mere North Sea pilot, without officialstatus or recognition of any sort, pilot only by courtesy,groaned."He makes eight hundred a year.""Are you a sailor?" I asked the stranger, who hadgone back to his position on the rug."I used to be till a couple of years ago, when I gotmarried," answered this communicative individual. "Ieven went to sea first in that very ship we were speak-ing of when you came in.""What ship?" I asked, puzzled. "I never heardyou mention a ship.""I've just told you her name, my dear sir," he replied."The Apse Family. Surely you've heard of the greatfirm of Apse & Sons, shipowners. They had a prettybig fleet. There was the Lucy Apse, and the HaroldApse, and Anne, John, Malcolm, Clara, Juliet, and so on-- no end of Apses. Every brother, sister, aunt, cousin,wife -- and grandmother, too, for all I know -- of the firmhad a ship named after them. Good, solid, old-fashionedcraft they were, too, built to carry and to last. Noneof your new-fangled, labour-saving appliances in them,but plenty of men and plenty of good salt beef and hardtack put aboard -- and off you go to fight your way outand home again."The miserable Jermyn made a sound of approval,which sounded like a groan of pain. Those were theships for him. He pointed out in doleful tones thatyou couldn't say to labour-saving appliances: "Jumplively now, my hearties." No labour-saving appliancewould go aloft on a dirty night with the sands underyour lee."No," assented the stranger, with a wink at me."The Apses didn't believe in them either, apparently.They treated their people well -- as people don't gettreated 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 wasto be still stronger, still safer, still more roomy and com-fortable. I believe they meant her to last for ever.They had her built composite -- iron, teak-wood, andgreenheart, and her scantling was something fabulous.If ever an order was given for a ship in a spirit of pridethis one was. Everything of the best. The commodorecaptain of the employ was to command her, and theyplanned the accommodation for him like a house onshore under a big, tall poop that went nearly to themainmast. No wonder Mrs. Colchester wouldn't letthe old man give her up. Why, it was the best homeshe ever had in all her married days. She had a nerve,that woman."The fuss that was made while that ship was build-ing! Let's have this a little stronger, and that a littleheavier; and hadn't that other thing better be changedfor something a little thicker. The builders enteredinto the spirit of the game, and there she was, growinginto the clumsiest, heaviest ship of her size right beforeall their eyes, without anybody becoming aware of itsomehow. She was to be 2,000 tons register, or a littleover; no less on any account. But see what happens.When they came to measure her she turned out 1,999tons and a fraction. General consternation! And theysay old Mr. Apse was so annoyed when they told himthat he took to his bed and died. The old gentlemanhad retired from the firm twenty-five years before, andwas ninety-six years old if a day, so his death wasn't,perhaps, so surprising. Still Mr. Lucian Apse was con-vinced that his father would have lived to a hundred.So we may put him at the head of the list. Nextcomes the poor devil of a shipwright that brute caughtand squashed as she went off the ways. They calledit the launch of a ship, but I've heard people say that,from the wailing and yelling and scrambling out of theway, it was more like letting a devil loose upon theriver. She snapped all her checks like pack-thread, andwent for the tugs in attendance like a fury. Beforeanybody could see what she was up to she sent oneof them to the bottom, and laid up another for threemonths' repairs. One of her cables parted, and then,suddenly -- you couldn't tell why -- she let herself bebrought up with the other as quiet as a lamb."That's how she was. You could never be surewhat she would be up to next. There are ships difficultto handle, but generally you can depend on them behav-ing rationally. With that ship, whatever you did withher you never knew how it would end. She wasa wicked beast. Or, perhaps, she was only just in-sane."He uttered this supposition in so earnest a tone thatI could not refrain from smiling. He left off biting hislower lip to apostrophize me."Eh! Why not? Why couldn't there be somethingin her build, in her lines corresponding to -- What'smadness? Only something just a tiny bit wrong in themake of your brain. Why shouldn't there be a madship -- I mean mad in a ship-like way, so that under nocircumstances could you be sure she would do what anyother sensible ship would naturally do for you. Thereare ships that steer wildly, and ships that can't be quitetrusted always to stay; others want careful watchingwhen running in a gale; and, again, there may bea ship that will make heavy weather of it in everylittle blow. But then you expect her to be alwaysso. You take it as part of her character, as a ship,just as you take account of a man's peculiarities oftemper when you deal with him. But with her youcouldn't. She was unaccountable. If she wasn't mad,then she was the most evil-minded, underhand, savagebrute that ever went afloat. I've seen her run in a heavygale beautifully for two days, and on the third broachto twice in the same afternoon. The first time sheflung the helmsman clean over the wheel, but as shedidn't quite manage to kill him she had another tryabout three hours afterwards. She swamped herselffore and aft, burst all the canvas we had set, scared allhands into a panic, and even frightened Mrs. Colchesterdown there in these beautiful stern cabins that she wasso proud of. When we mustered the crew there wasone man missing. Swept overboard, of course, withoutbeing either seen or heard, poor devil! and I only wondermore of us didn't go."Always something like that. Always. I heard anold mate tell Captain Colchester once that it had cometo this with him, that he was afraid to open his mouthto give any sort of order. She was as much of a terrorin harbour as at sea. You could never be certain whatwould hold her. On the slightest provocation she wouldstart snapping ropes, cables, wire hawsers, like carrots.She was heavy, clumsy, unhandy -- but that does notquite explain that power for mischief she had. Youknow, somehow, when I think of her I can't help re-membering what we hear of incurable lunatics breakingloose now and then."He looked at me inquisitively. But, of course,I couldn't admit that a ship could be mad."In the ports where she was known," he went on,'"they dreaded the sight of her. She thought nothing ofknocking away twenty feet or so of solid stone facing offa quay or wiping off the end of a wooden wharf. Shemust have lost miles of chain and hundreds of tons ofanchors in her time. When she fell aboard some poorunoffending ship it was the very devil of a job to haul heroff again. And she never got hurt herself -- just a fewscratches or so, perhaps. They had wanted to haveher strong. And so she was. Strong enough to ramPolar ice with. And as she began so she went on.From the day she was launched she never let a year passwithout murdering somebody. I think the owners gotvery worried about it. But they were a stiff-neckedgeneration all these Apses; they wouldn't admit therecould be anything wrong with the Apse Family. Theywouldn't even change her name. 'Stuff and nonsense,'as Mrs. Colchester used to say. They ought at least tohave shut her up for life in some dry dock or other, awayup the river, and never let her smell salt water again. Iassure you, my dear sir, that she invariably did killsomeone every voyage she made. It was perfectlywell-known. She got a name for it, far and wide."I expressed my surprise that a ship with such adeadly reputation could ever get a crew."Then, you don't know what sailors are, my dear sir.Let me just show you by an instance. One day in dockat home, while loafing on the forecastle head, I noticedtwo respectable salts come along, one a middle-aged,competent, steady man, evidently, the other a smart,youngish chap. They read the name on the bows andstopped to look at her. Says the elder man: 'ApseFamily. That's the sanguinary female dog' (I'mputting it in that way) 'of a ship, Jack, that kills aman every voyage. I wouldn't sign in her -- not forJoe, I wouldn't.' And the other says: 'If she weremine, I'd have her towed on the mud and set on fire,blamme 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. 'Theywon't have me -- not for double wages.'"They hung about for some time and then walked upthe dock. Half an hour later I saw them both on ourdeck looking about for the mate, and apparently veryanxious to be taken on. And they were.""How do you account for this?" I asked."What would you say?" he retorted. "Reckless-ness ! The vanity of boasting in the evening to all theirchums: 'We've just shipped in that there Apse Family.Blow her. She ain't going to scare us.' Sheer sailor-like perversity! A sort of curiosity. Well -- a little ofall that, no doubt. I put the question to them in thecourse of the voyage. The answer of the elderly chapwas:"'A man can die but once.' The younger assuredme in a mocking tone that he wanted to see 'how shewould do it this time.' But I tell you what; there wasa sort of fascination about the brute."Jermyn, who seemed to have seen every ship in theworld, broke in sulkily:"I saw her once out of this very window towing upthe river; a great black ugly thing, going along like abig hearse.""Something sinister about her looks, wasn't there?"said the man in tweeds, looking down at old Jermynwith a friendly eye. "I always had a sort of horror ofher. She gave me a beastly shock when I was no morethan fourteen, the very first day -- nay, hour -- I joinedher. Father came up to see me off, and was to go downto Gravesend with us. I was his second boy to go tosea. My big brother was already an officer then. We.got on board about eleven in the morning, and found theship ready to drop out of the basin, stern first. Shehad not moved three times her own length when, ata little pluck the tug gave her to enter the dock gates,she made one of her rampaging starts, and put sucha weight on the check rope -- a new six-inch hawser-- that forward there they had no chance to ease itround in time, and it parted. I saw the broken endfly up high in the air, and the next moment that brutebrought her quarter against the pier-head with a jarthat staggered everybody about her decks. She didn'thurt herself. Not she! But one of the boys the matehad sent aloft on the mizzen to do something, camedown on the poop-deck -- thump -- right in front of me.He was not much older than myself. We had beengrinning at each other only a few minutes before. Hemust have been handling himself carelessly, not expect-ing to get such a jerk. I heard his startled cry -- Oh! --in a high treble as he felt himself going, and looked upin time to see him go limp all over as he fell. Ough!Poor father was remarkably white about the gills whenwe shook hands in Gravesend. 'Are you all right?' hesays, looking hard at me. 'Yes, father.' 'Quite sure?''Yes, father.' 'Well, then good-bye, my boy.' He toldme afterwards that for half a word he would have carriedme off home with him there and then. I am the babyof the family -- you know," added the man in tweeds,stroking his moustache with an ingenuous smile.I acknowledged this interesting communication by asympathetic murmur. He waved his hand carelessly."This might have utterly spoiled a chap's nerve forgoing aloft, you know -- utterly. He fell within twofeet of me, cracking his head on a mooring-bitt. Nevermoved. Stone dead. Nice looking little fellow, he was.I had just been thinking we would be great chums.However, that wasn't yet the worst that brute of a shipcould do. I served in her three years of my time, andthen I got transferred to the Lucy Apse, for a year. Thesailmaker we had in the Apse Family turned up there,too, and I remember him saying to me one evening, afterwe had been a week at sea: Isn't she a meek littleship?' No wonder we thought the Lucy Apse a dear,meek, little ship after getting clear of that big, rampag-ing savage brute. It was like heaven. Her officersseemed to me the restfullest lot of men on earth. To mewho had known no ship but the Apse Family, the Lucywas like a sort of magic craft that did what you wantedher to do of her own accord. One evening we gotcaught aback pretty sharply from right ahead. In aboutten minutes we had her full again, sheets aft, tacks down,decks cleared, and the officer of the watch leaningagainst 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, knock-ing 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 wayof flapping about fit to raise your hair on end. I could-n't get over my wonder for days."Well, I finished my last year of apprenticeship inthat jolly little ship -- she wasn't so little either, butafter that other heavy devil she seemed but a playthingto handle. I finished my time and passed; and thenjust as I was thinking of having three weeks of realgood time on shore I got at breakfast a letter asking methe earliest day I could be ready to join the Apse Familyas third mate. I gave my plate a shove that shot itinto the middle of the table; dad looked up over hispaper; mother raised her hands in astonishment, and Iwent out bare-headed into our bit of garden, where Iwalked round and round for an hour."When I came in again mother was out of thedining-room, and dad had shifted berth into his bigarmchair. The letter was lying on the mantelpiece."'It's very creditable to you to get the offer, andvery kind of them to make it,' he said. 'And I see alsothat Charles has been appointed chief mate of that shipfor one voyage.'"There was, over leaf, a P.S. to that effect in Mr.Apse's own handwriting, which I had overlooked.Charley was my big brother."I don't like very much to have two of my boystogether in one ship,' father goes on, in his deliberate,solemn way. 'And I may tell you that I would notmind writing Mr. Apse a letter to that effect.'"Dear old dad! He was a wonderful father. Whatwould you have done? The mere notion of going back(and as an officer, too), to be worried and bothered,and kept on the jump night and day by that brute, mademe feel sick. But she wasn't a ship you could afford tofight shy of. Besides, the most genuine excuse couldnot be given without mortally offending Apse & Sons.The firm, and I believe the whole family down to theold unmarried aunts in Lancashire, had grown desper-ately touchy about that accursed ship's character. Thiswas the case for answering 'Ready now' from yourvery death-bed if you wished to die in their good graces.And that's precisely what I did answer -- by wire, tohave it over and done with at once."The prospect of being shipmates with my big brothercheered me up considerably, though it made me a bitanxious, too. Ever since I remember myself as a littlechap he had been very good to me, and I looked uponhim as the finest fellow in the world. And so he was.No better officer ever walked the deck of a merchantship. And that's a fact. He was a fine, strong, up-standing, sun-tanned, young fellow, with his brown haircurling 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 Englandthree weeks already, he hadn't showed up at home yet,but had spent his spare time in Surrey somewhere mak-ing up to Maggie Colchester, old Captain Colchester'sniece. Her father, a great friend of dad's, was in thesugar-broking business, and Charley made a sort ofsecond home of their house. I wondered what my bigbrother would think of me. There was a sort of stern-ness about Charley's face which never left it, not evenwhen he was larking in his rather wild fashion."He received me with a great shout of laughter.He seemed to think my joining as an officer the greatestjoke in the world. There was a difference of ten yearsbetween us, and I suppose he remembered me best inpinafores. I was a kid of four when he first went to sea.It surprised me to find how boisterous he could be."'Now we shall see what you are made of,' he cried.And he held me off by the shoulders, and punched myribs, and hustled me into his berth. 'Sit down, Ned. Iam glad of the chance of having you with me. I'll putthe finishing touch to you, my young officer, providingyou're worth the trouble. And, first of all, get it wellinto your head that we are not going to let this brutekill anybody this voyage. We'll stop her racket.'"I perceived he was in dead earnest about it. Hetalked grimly of the ship, and how we must be carefuland never allow this ugly beast to catch us nappingwith any of her damned tricks."He gave me a regular lecture on special seamanshipfor the use of the Apse Family; then changing his tone,he began to talk at large, rattling off the wildest,funniest nonsense, till my sides ached with laughing. Icould see very well he was a bit above himself with highspirits. It couldn't be because of my coming. Not tothat extent. But, of course, I wouldn't have dreamt ofasking what was the matter. I had a proper respectfor my big brother, I can tell you. But it was all madeplain enough a day or two afterwards, when I heardthat Miss Maggie Colchester was coming for the voy-age. Uncle was giving her a sea-trip for the benefit ofher health."I don't know what could have been wrong with herhealth. She had a beautiful colour, and a deuce of alot of fair hair. She didn't care a rap for wind, or rain,or spray, or sun, or green seas, or anything. She was ablue-eyed, jolly girl of the very best sort, but the wayshe cheeked my big brother used to frighten me. Ialways expected it to end in an awful row. However,nothing decisive happened till after we had been inSydney for a week. One day, in the men's dinner hour,Charley sticks his head into my cabin. I was stretchedout on my back on the settee, smoking in peace."'Come ashore with me, Ned,' he says, in his curtway."I jumped up, of course, and away after him downthe gangway and up George Street. He strode alonglike a giant, and I at his elbow, panting. It was con-foundedly hot. 'Where on earth are you rushing meto, Charley?' I made bold to ask."'Here,' he says."'Here' was a jeweller's shop. I couldn't imaginewhat he could want there. It seemed a sort of madfreak. He thrusts under my nose three rings, whichlooked very tiny on his big, brown palm, growling out --"'For Maggie! Which?'"I got a kind of scare at this. I couldn't make asound, but I pointed at the one that sparkled white andblue. He put it in his waistcoat pocket, paid for it witha lot of sovereigns, and bolted out. When we got onboard I was quite out of breath. 'Shake hands, oldchap,' I gasped out. He gave me a thump on the back.'Give what orders you like to the boatswain when thehands turn-to,' says he; 'I am off duty this afternoon.'"Then he vanished from the deck for a while, butpresently he came out of the cabin with Maggie, andthese two went over the gangway publicly, before allhands, going for a walk together on that awful, blazinghot day, with clouds of dust flying about. They cameback after a few hours looking very staid, but didn'tseem to have the slightest idea where they 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 voicelike an old night cabman's! 'Rubbish. Don't knowwhere you've been! Stuff and nonsense. You'vewalked the girl off her legs. Don't do it again.'"It's surprising how meek Charley could be withthat old woman. Only on one occasion he whispered tome, 'I'm jolly glad she isn't Maggie's aunt, except bymarriage. That's no sort of relationship.' But Ithink he let Maggie have too much of her own way.She was hopping all over that ship in her yachting skirtand a red tam o' shanter like a bright bird on a deadblack tree. The old salts used to grin to themselveswhen they saw her coming along, and offered to teachher knots or splices. I believe she liked the men, forCharley's sake, I suppose."As you may imagine, the fiendish propensities ofthat cursed ship were never spoken of on board. Notin the cabin, at any rate. Only once on the home-ward passage Charley said, incautiously, somethingabout bringing all her crew home this time. CaptainColchester began to look uncomfortable at once, andthat silly, hard-bitten old woman flew out at Charley asthough he had said something indecent. I was quiteconfounded myself; as to Maggie, she sat completelymystified, opening her blue eyes very wide. Of course,before she was a day older she wormed it all out of me.She was a very difficult person to lie to."'How awful,' she said, quite solemn. 'So manypoor fellows. I am glad the voyage is nearly over. Iwon't have a moment's peace about Charley now.'"I assured her Charley was all right. It took morethan that ship knew to get over a seaman like Charley.And she agreed with me."Next day we got the tug off Dungeness; and whenthe tow-rope was fast Charley rubbed his hands andsaid to me in an undertone --"'We've baffled her, Ned.''"Looks like it,' I said, with a grin at him. It wasbeautiful weather, and the sea as smooth as a millpond.We went up the river without a shadow of troubleexcept once, when off Hole Haven, the brute took asudden sheer and nearly had a barge anchored just clearof the fairway. But I was aft, looking after the steer-ing, and she did not catch me napping 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 riverpilot boarded us below Gravesend, and the first wordsI heard him say were: 'You may just as well take yourport anchor inboard at once, Mr. Mate.'"This had been done when I went forward. I sawMaggie on the forecastle head enjoying the bustleand I begged her to go aft, but she took no notice of me,of course. Then Charley, who was very busy with thehead gear, caught sight of her and shouted in his biggestvoice: 'Get off the forecastle head, Maggie. You're inthe way here.' For all answer she made a funny face athim, and I saw poor Charley turn away, hiding a smile.She was flushed with the excitement of getting homeagain, and her blue eyes seemed to snap electric sparksas she looked at the river. A collier brig had goneround just ahead of us, and our tug had to stop herengines in a hurry to avoid running into her."In a moment, as is usually the case, all the shippingin the reach seemed to get into a hopeless tangle. Aschooner and a ketch got up a small collision all tothemselves right in the middle of the river. It wasexciting to watch, and, meantime, our tug remainedstopped. Any other ship than that brute could havebeen coaxed to keep straight for a couple of minutes --but not she! Her head fell off at once, and she beganto drift down, taking her tug along with her. I noticeda cluster of coasters at anchor within a quarter of a mileof us, and I thought I had better speak to the pilot.'If you let her get amongst that lot,' I said, quietly, 'shewill grind some of them to bits before we get her outagain.'"'Don't I know her!' cries he, stamping his footin a perfect fury. And he out with his whistle tomake that bothered tug get the ship's head up againas quick as possible. He blew like mad, waving hisarm to port, and presently we could see that the tug'sengines had been set going ahead. Her paddleschurned the water, but it was as if she had been tryingto tow a rock -- she couldn't get an inch out of that ship.Again the pilot blew his whistle, and waved his arm toport. We could see the tug's paddles turning faster andfaster away, broad on our bow."For a moment tug and ship hung motionless in acrowd of moving shipping, and then the terrific strainthat evil, stony-hearted brute would always put oneverything, tore the towing-chock clean out. Thetow-rope surged over, snapping the iron stanchions ofthe head-rail one after another as if they had beensticks of sealing-wax. It was only then I noticed thatin order to have a better view over our heads, Maggiehad stepped upon the port anchor as it lay flat on theforecastle deck."It had been lowered properly into its hardwoodbeds, but there had been no time to take a turn withit. Anyway, it was quite secure as it was, for goinginto dock; but I could see directly that the tow-ropewould sweep under the fluke in another second. Myheart flew up right into my throat, but not before I hadtime to yell out: 'Jump clear of that anchor!'"But I hadn't time to shriek out her name. I don'tsuppose she heard me at all. The first touch of thehawser against the fluke threw her down; she was upon her feet again quick as lightning, but she was up onthe wrong side. I heard a horrid, scraping sound, andthen that anchor, tipping over, rose up like somethingalive; its great, rough iron arm caught Maggie roundthe waist, seemed to clasp her close with a dreadfulhug, and flung itself with her over and down in aterrific clang of iron, followed by heavy ringing blowsthat shook the ship from stem to stern -- because thering stopper held!""How horrible!" I exclaimed."I used to dream for years afterwards of anchorscatching hold of girls," said the man in tweeds, alittle wildly. He shuddered. "With a most pitifulhowl Charley was over after her almost on the instant.But, Lord! he didn't see as much as a gleam of her redtam o' shanter in the water. Nothing! nothing what-ever! In a moment there were half-a-dozen boatsaround us, and he got pulled into one. I, with theboatswain and the carpenter, let go the other anchor ina hurry and brought the ship up somehow. The pilothad gone silly. He walked up and down the forecastlehead wringing his hands and muttering to himself:'Killing women, now! Killing women, now!' Notanother word could you get out of him."Dusk fell, then a night black as pitch; and peeringupon the river I heard a low, mournful hail, 'Ship,ahoy!' Two Gravesend watermen came alongside.They had a lantern in their wherry, and looked up theship's side, holding on to the ladder without a word. Isaw in the patch of light a lot of loose, fair hair downthere."He shuddered again."After the tide turned poor Maggie's body hadfloated clear of one of them big mooring buoys," heexplained. "I crept aft, feeling half-dead, and managedto send a rocket up -- to let the other searchers know,on the river. And then I slunk away forward likea cur, and spent the night sitting on the heel of thebowsprit so as to be as far as possible out of Charley'sway.""Poor fellow!" I murmured."Yes. Poor fellow," he repeated, musingly. "Thatbrute wouldn't let him -- not even him -- cheat her ofher prey. But he made her fast in dock next morning.He did. We hadn't exchanged a word -- not a singlelook for that matter. I didn't want to look at him.When the last rope was fast he put his hands to hishead and stood gazing down at his feet as if trying toremember something. The men waited on the maindeck for the words that end the voyage. Perhaps thatis what he was trying to remember. I spoke for him.'That'll do, men.'"I never saw a crew leave a ship so quietly. Theysneaked over the rail one after another, taking care notto bang their sea chests too heavily. They looked ourway, but not one had the stomach to come up and offerto shake hands with the mate as is usual."I followed him all over the empty ship to and fro,here and there, with no living soul about but the two ofus, because the old ship-keeper had locked himself upin the galley -- both doors. Suddenly poor Charleymutters, in a crazy voice: 'I'm done here,' and stridesdown the gangway with me at his heels, up the dock,out at the gate, on towards Tower Hill. He used totake rooms with a decent old landlady in AmericaSquare, to be near his work."All at once he stops short, turns round, and comesback straight at me. 'Ned,' says he, I am going home.'I had the good luck to sight a four-wheeler and got himin just in time. His legs were beginning to give way.In our hall he fell down on a chair, and I'll never forgetfather's and mother's amazed, perfectly still faces asthey stood over him. They couldn't understand whathad happened to him till I blubbered out, 'Maggie gotdrowned, yesterday, in the river.'"Mother let out a little cry. Father looks from himto me, and from me to him, as if comparing our faces --for, upon my soul, Charley did not resemble himself atall. Nobody moved; and the poor fellow raises his bigbrown hands slowly to his throat, and with one singletug rips everything open -- collar, shirt, waistcoat -- aperfect wreck and ruin of a man. Father and I got himupstairs somehow, and mother pretty nearly killed her-self nursing him through a brain fever."The man in tweeds nodded at me significantly."Ah! there was nothing that could be done with thatbrute. She had a devil in her.""Where's your brother?" I asked, expecting tohear he was dead. But he was commanding a smartsteamer on the China coast, and never came home now.Jermyn fetched a heavy sigh, and the handkerchiefbeing now sufficiently dry, put it up tenderly to his redand lamentable nose."She was a ravening beast," the man in tweedsstarted again. "Old Colchester put his foot down andresigned. And would you believe it? Apse & Sonswrote to ask whether he wouldn't reconsider his de-cision! Anything to save the good name of the ApseFamily.' Old Colchester went to the office then andsaid that he would take charge again but only to sail herout into the North Sea and scuttle her there. He wasnearly off his chump. He used to be darkish iron-grey,but his hair went snow-white in a fortnight. And Mr.Lucian Apse (they had known each other as young men)pretended not to notice it. Eh? Here's infatuationif you like! Here's pride for you!"They jumped at the first man they could get totake her, for fear of the scandal of the Apse Family notbeing able to find a skipper. He was a festive soul, Ibelieve, but he stuck to her grim and hard. Wilmotwas his second mate. A harum-scarum fellow, andpretending to a great scorn for all the girls. The fact ishe was really timid. But let only one of them do asmuch as lift her little finger in encouragement, and therewas nothing that could hold the beggar. As apprentice,once, he deserted abroad after a petticoat, and wouldhave gone to the dogs then, if his skipper hadn't takenthe trouble to find him and lug him by the ears out ofsome house of perdition or other."It was said that one of the firm had been heard onceto express a hope that this brute of a ship would getlost soon. I can hardly credit the tale, unless it mighthave been Mr. Alfred Apse, whom the family didn'tthink much of. They had him in the office, but he wasconsidered a bad egg altogether, always flying off torace meetings and coming home drunk. You wouldhave thought that a ship so full of deadly tricks wouldrun herself ashore some day out of sheer cussedness.But not she! She was going to last for ever. She hada nose to keep off the bottom."Jermyn made a grunt of approval."A ship after a pilot's own heart, eh?" jeered theman in tweeds. "Well, Wilmot managed it. He wasthe man for it, but even he, perhaps, couldn't have donethe 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 PortAdelaide to the Cape. Well, the ship went out andanchored outside for the day. The skipper -- hospitablesoul -- had a lot of guests from town to a farewell lunch --as usual with him. It was five in the evening beforethe last shore boat left the side, and the weather lookedugly and dark in the gulf. There was no reason for himto get under way. However, as he had told everybodyhe was going that day, he imagined it was proper to doso anyhow. But as he had no mind after all thesefestivities to tackle the straits in the dark, with a scantwind, he gave orders to keep the ship under lowertopsails and foresail as close as she would lie, dodgingalong the land till the morning. Then he sought hisvirtuous couch. The mate was on deck, having hisface washed very clean with hard rain squalls. Wilmotrelieved him at midnight."The Apse Family had, as you observed, a house onher poop . . .""A big, ugly white thing, sticking up," Jermyn mur-mured, sadly, at the fire."That's it: a companion for the cabin stairs and asort of chart-room combined. The rain drove in gustson the sleepy Wilmot. The ship was then surgingslowly to the southward, close hauled, with the coastwithin three miles or so to windward. There was noth-ing to look out for in that part of the gulf, and Wilmotwent round to dodge the squalls under the lee of thatchart-room, whose door on that side was open. Thenight was black, like a barrel of coal-tar. And thenhe heard a woman's voice whispering to him."That confounded green-eyed girl of the Pamphiliuspeople had put the kids to bed a long time ago, ofcourse, but it seems couldn't get to sleep herself. Sheheard eight bells struck, and the chief mate come belowto turn in. She waited a bit, then got into her dressing-gown and stole across the empty saloon and up thestairs into the chart-room. She sat down on the setteenear the open door to cool herself, I daresay."I suppose when she whispered to Wilmot it was asif somebody had struck a match in the fellow's brain.I don't know how it was they had got so very thick.I fancy he had met her ashore a few times before. Icouldn't make it out, because, when telling the story,Wilmot would break off to swear something awful atevery second word. We had met on the quay in Sydney,and he had an apron of sacking up to his chin, a bigwhip in his hand. A wagon-driver. Glad to do any-thing not to starve. That's what he had come down to."However, there he was, with his head inside thedoor, on the girl's shoulder as likely as not -- officer ofthe watch! The helmsman, on giving his evidenceafterwards, said that he shouted several times that thebinnacle lamp had gone out. It didn't matter to him,because his orders were to 'sail her close.' 'I thoughtit funny,' he said, 'that the ship should keep on fallingoff in squalls, but I luffed her up every time as closeas I was able. It was so dark I couldn't see my handbefore my face, and the rain came in bucketfuls on myhead.'"The truth was that at every squall the wind hauledaft a little, till gradually the ship came to be headingstraight for the coast, without a single soul in her beingaware of it. Wilmot himself confessed that he had notbeen near the standard compass for an hour. He mightwell have confessed! The first thing he knew was theman on the look-out shouting blue murder forwardthere."He tore his neck free, he says, and yelled back athim: 'What do you say?'"'I think I hear breakers ahead, sir,' howled the man,and came rushing aft with the rest of the watch, in the'awfullest blinding deluge that ever fell from the sky,'Wilmot says. For a second or so he was so scared andbewildered that he could not remember on which side ofthe gulf the ship was. He wasn't a good officer, but hewas a seaman all the same. He pulled himself togetherin a second, and the right orders sprang to his lipswithout thinking. They were to hard up with the helmand shiver the main and mizzen-topsails."It seems that the sails actually fluttered. Hecouldn't see them, but he heard them rattling and bang-ing above his head. 'No use! She was too slow ingoing off,' he went on, his dirty face twitching, and thedamn'd carter's whip shaking in his hand. 'She seemedto stick fast.' And then the flutter of the canvas abovehis head ceased. At this critical moment the windhauled aft again with a gust, filling the sails and send-ing the ship with a great way upon the rocks on herlee bow. She had overreached herself in her last littlegame. Her time had come -- the hour, the man, theblack night, the treacherous gust of wind -- the rightwoman to put an end to her. The brute deservednothing better. Strange are the instruments of Provi-dence. There's a sort of poetical justice --"The man in tweeds looked hard at me."The first ledge she went over stripped the false keeloff her. Rip! The skipper, rushing out of his berth,found a crazy woman, in a red flannel dressing-gown,flying round and round the cuddy, screeching like acockatoo."The next bump knocked her clean under the cabintable. It also started the stern-post and carried awaythe rudder, and then that brute ran up a shelving,rocky shore, tearing her bottom out, till she stopped.short, and the foremast dropped over the bows like agangway.""Anybody lost?" I asked."No one, unless that fellow, Wilmot," answered thegentleman, unknown to Miss Blank, looking round forhis cap. "And his case was worse than drowning for aman. Everybody got ashore all right. Gale didn'tcome on till next day, dead from the West, and broke upthat brute in a surprisingly short time. It was asthough she had been rotten at heart." . . . Hechanged his tone, "Rain left off? I must get my bikeand rush home to dinner. I live in Herne Bay -- cameout for a spin this morning."He nodded at me in a friendly way, and went outwith a swagger."Do you know who he is, Jermyn?" I asked.The North Sea pilot shook his head, dismally."Fancy losing a ship in that silly fashion! Oh, dear!oh dear!" he groaned in lugubrious tones, spreadinghis damp handkerchief again like a curtain before theglowing grate.On going out I exchanged a glance and a smile(strictly proper) with the respectable Miss Blank, bar-maid of the Three Crows.[from A Set of Six]
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