Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/crestedseasOOconnrich THE CRESTED SEAS When we got alongside we had to be everlastin'ly careful." *■''''' ^ THE CRESTED SEAS BY JAMES BRENDAN CONNOLLY Author of "Out of Gloucester," "The Seiners," "The Deep Sea's Toll," Etc. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS NEW YORK::::::::::::::::::i907 Copyright, 1907, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Published September, 1907 CONTENTS PAOB The Dance i On the Bottom of the Dory 19 The Blasphemer 37 The Commandeering of the Lucy Foster . . 53 The Illimitable Senses 77 The Joy of a Christmas Passage 103 The Drawn Shutters 147 The Smugglers 165 Between Shipmates 197 The Ice-Dogs 215 The Americanization of Roll-Down Joe . . .247 The Harsh Word 269 The Magnetic Hearth 289 483?) ILLUSTRATIONS "When wc got alongside we had to be cverlastin'ly careful" Frontispiece VACING PAGE **Ben, with the skipper's help, was climbing over the rail" 48 "Our passenger thought the devil and all was runnin' amuck over the ocean " 64 "The deck-load began to loosen up" 158 "There was no such monstrous lock as that last night, OUie?" 174 u > Twas me that stowed them in the dory" . . . .182 "I'll bet there'll be none of you hang on any longer than I do" 282 "Our skipper leaned, weak as water, over the dory- gunnel" 286 THE DANCE The Dance INTO the middle of the dance somebody threw what was meant for a bombshell. "They say the cutter's on the way," suddenly said this lad. "Some say she's in the bay," he added, when his preliminary seemed to produce no consterna- tion. But the man at whom it was aimed was not unacquainted with the abounding jealousy of the male in this most primitive region of West New- foundland; and also it had ever been his secret pride that nothing affected his nerve. "Even if she is," he retorted now, "what odds till she gets here?" and in doubHng enjoyment continued to swing his buxom partner. But at midnight a young fellow in fishing rig came from the other side of the bay with news yet more positive and alarming. "Where's Captain Powers?" "In a minute, boy, and Fll be with you," and to the assembled admiration finished the reel. "She's to anchor below, and they've been inquir- in' of you. Captain — you and the little WeaseU^ "Then it's time for me to go. But what d'y' say, Bess, another dance?" 3 The Dance "Surely, Bryan, one more," and in exulting tri- umph with this capture of the American captain she snapped her fingers to the fiddler, after which she accompanied him to the porch. "And when will you be back, Bryan ? For, of course, 'twill be a small matter for you to slip the cutter and away as you've done a score o' times before. When will you be back.?" "I'll be back for a dance this night week. And mind you keep one for me, Bess." "Ay, boy, and more than one," and they kissed and parted. In his little schooner Bryan, to escape the cut- ter, was forced to crowd into the Gulf of St. Law- rence by the north shore of the bay. Once there he would have liked to lay his course for the Mag- dalen Islands, which lay two hundred miles or so to the west and south; but now, what with the ap- proaching morn and the attendant light, he dared not cross the open water at the mouth of the bay. The cutter's glasses were altogether too far- reaching, even if they were not informed by jeal- ous swains as to the likeliest direction to find him. So he decided to head northward, to hug the coast until such time as it might be safe to swing out into the broad gulf and so on southerly to the Magdalens. This he the more readily decided to do because on the north coast were loopholes of 4 The Dance escape — little harbors of refuge wherein a bold man might slip to and hide from troublesome cut- ters that could steam against the wind. "And speaking of Bonne Bay, Wallace" — Bryan was addressing the cleverest of his crew — "a good hundred miles it is, but suppose now we could make it?" "You make it and Til find a hiding place where a whole navy of bloodhounds wouldn't smell us, Captain." "Well, Bonne Bay it is." "And here's the vapor coming. Captain — to hide us from the cutter." "M-m — yes, Wallace — but hides her from us, too." They were debating that question then when, the white haze lifting and rolling away, they made out the smudge of smoke astern. Far away it was then, but not to be doubted. "The cutter. Captain?" "That's what. And if we can see her smoke she can surely make out our sail. Here's where the vapor would help, Wallace, and bear out your argument." "Ay, Captain. 'Twas like a wall, that vapor." "Like a wall, yes, Wallace, or like a curtain hiding the stage. But now" — he drove his arm through the air as if it were a solid substance op- 5 The Dance posing him — "now the wind's our only hope. Blow, ye devils, blow!" and, after his fashion, al- lowed his mind to run where it would. "Man, but the breeze I had once in the Bering Sea, and a cruiser ten times the size of that cutter after us ! Out of the fog she came like a black something throwing off a white sheet. All black she was except for a gold stripe along her run, and ten thousand horse-power. We knew her and she knew us ; and we a little vessel with only the wind to save her — and us. But that's not getting away from this fellow, is it ? Sway up everything now." And, while they heaved on the halyards and gigs, he sang defiantly: Oh, beating up the coast on a blowy winter's day — From the fog we raised a cutter of his Kinglet's o'er the way. She fires a shot across our bows by way of saying, Belay! We ranges fair across her bows, and then — we bore away. Southeast by east for Matakan, and, oh, the wind it blew! As out before the howling gale our little vessel flew. The sea was such, the wind was such, they did'nt fire a shot, Because they didn't dare to wear, but — they must 've swore a lot ! " * O, flyin' down the coast like ' another heave or two on the mains'l, fellows." 6 The Dance He trained the glasses on the fast-looming steamer astern. "I told 'em Fd wreck the jack before Fd let any Government vessel get her, and I will. Damn 'em, anyway, all cutters and cruis- ers! And if she is wrecked " "Wrecked ? Then it'll be mixed drinks, Skip- per." Bryan grinned. "It cert'nly will. And high-priced — there's stuff below cost ten dollars a quart." "H-m-m — " Wallace was drawing the end of his tongue across his lower lip. " I've been think- ing, Skipper, that we'd all be better men if we had a sup of that same. A shame, don't you think yourself, Skipper — so much of it below, and we like to lose it all soon and never a sup on so cold a mornin' ? " "Well, I don't know but you're right, Wallace. Off with the hatch, and the first case you find bring on deck — the first case, mind." They tossed one up. "Let's see now. What'd you get ? You cert'nly drew a good one. That's the most expensive stuff in her hold." "Ay, Skipper, we know'd it, when we stowed it." Wallace grinned widely. "Is it every man a bottle to himself. Skipper?" "One bottle, no more; but no stopping to drink it all now. One swallow now and then; stand by, for I see that Bonne Bay we'll never make, 7 The Dance though this breeze is all that a big ship could ask for. Fifty tons more to her now and she'd be doin' her fourteen in this breeze." "And yet a grand boat of her tonnage, Skipper — quick to handle." "I know that, and a good thing for where I think ril put her — Hell's Harbor do they still call it, just ahead ? That was the name when I was last there, five years ago." "Ay, sir, and hell it is yet to make on a blowy day." "All the worse for whoever is behind us. And worse yet if men brought up on sailing craft don't dare to go farther than steamboat hands. You'll follow me, lads?" "Ay, Skipper!" They waved the half-empty bottles. "To hell itself!" Bryan could easily make out the cutter then. "Four miles to our three she's coming. O man, but with fifty tons more there'd be damn little turning out of the road then, and that lad so bold with his guns would never get near enough to use them. But, Lord, it's a poor man that quarrels with his tools. She'll do. We'll make her do. Stand ready now. Heave those bottles over or hurry up and empty them — one or the other." "Will you be needing a pilot. Skipper?" asked Wallace. "'Cause if you do " 8 The Dance "Why a pilot? Even if I couldn't remember, it's easy made, that road. There's the deep water, and there's the rocks, both marked better than if all the red and black Gover'ment buoys in the world was there. Where a surf like that shows only blind men could go wrong. And they wouldn't even then, if they only used their ears. Pilot ? Lord, no, but a strong hand to the wheel. Take it, you Wallace, and forget all that ever entered your head except how to steer a vessel. And wait till I give the word. And when I do, you move. Hear me ? If you hope to see Bay of Islands ever again, you work now." So they ran till it lacked an hour of sunset. "Plenty of light yet, plenty," muttered Bryan, and guided her between two large rocks. Hell's Gateposts, against which the billows of the broad gulf were now breaking, mounting white to the bald crests almost. Tearing past the granite entrance went the little jack, with Wallace to the wheel and eyes on Bryan, who in turn stood at the fore-rigging with eyes only for the channel ahead. It was a dubious outlook; so much so that were it not for the nar- row strip of green between quarter and bare rocks Bryan would have taken but small comfort. "But that lad behind won't come in so easy, steam power though he has," he commented, and 9 The Dance by way of defiance waved an arm toward them. *'And once within, I'm blessed sure he'll feel even less comfortable, especially when he comes to turn the Elbow — if ever he does." Inside the entrance they drove through a little harbor of quiet water, where the jack might have lain comfortably if it were not for the pursuing cutter. The only passage for them out of Hell's Harbor was through the north entrance, and to reach that from the south side of the bay it was necessary to go by way of the Elbow. The bay was some- times used by fishermen to set trawls or nets; but expert and venturesome as they were, when they desired to reach one side of the bay from the other, the north from the south or vice versa, they usually preferred to make the passage outside rather than attempt the Elbow, even in moderate weather. And now it was blowing a gale. Now fairly inside, the jack was approaching a stretch of jagged rocks which protruded from the sea for varying heights. Some barely showed above the normal level, others rose for perhaps ten feet above the surface of the sea. Devil's Claws the natives called them, and never did they suggest a more wicked end to whoever might ap- proach them than now in this westerly gale which, pressing in from the Gulf, whistled as it forced its 10 The Dance way through the narrow entrance, and further in, where now the jack was, tore up the sea until the claws lay, now bare and again all but hidden by the upborne waters. The peril of the moment could not dull Bryan's easily stirred imagination. "The breeze is mak- ing this devil nervous," he said. "See him open and close his fingers. Maybe he thinks there'll be something doing for him soon" — and just then a fresh squall tearing the water wide open — " and now see him! It's teeth, not claws, now — look! He opens his mouth and laughs, and you can see his gums and then the teeth close again and — m'm — they'd grab us in a minute and chew us up and spit us out. He wouldn't stop to swallow us, not him — but spit us out, dead men all, crushed and bloody — and our little vessel ground to pow- der. Oh, don't you wish you could get us!" He shook his fist at the indented row. The crew were inhaling the leader's spirit: "Would he stop to take a few sups of wine on the way. Captain ? " Bryan laughed. "Lord, but you're certainly wits. But it's blood, not wine, he wants. But look astern!" They looked and saw the cutter now inside the entrance, feeling her way cautiously. "She'll never come this far. The look of that little line II The Dance of rocks there and the narrowing of the passage will be enough for her. She won't come far enough to examine any Elbow. Soon it'll be about ship and most careful in the turning, with the engine- room bells working double watches. Back to the south for her when she finds she can't get here. Plenty of good men in those Gover'ment boats, but they're gen'rally not running long chances, certainly not just for devilment. However things turn out, their pay envelopes come at the end of every month regular." "Ay, they gets their wages, Captain, but we has to earn ours first." "That's it. And right here's where we'll earn — or lose — ours. Steady now." The jack was nearing the point where she would have to make what was practically a right-angled turn, after which she would have to speed into the wind like a top. And everything would need to be done with extreme rapidity. Then, when she was all but ready to come about, she would have to be given her head; and then away with her on the new course, which was practically at right angles to the entering stretch. With the wind as it was then, and with the cutter making a need of hurrying, Bryan knew that he would find it necessary to keep her under full headway, and only to hold her up, to check her, 12 The Dance at the critical point; and then it would have to be as one checks a race-horse. For, if she ran by but a length or slid off as sheets were hauled in, it was up on the rocks with her and the end for them- selves. One of the crew, after studying Bryan's face, was moved to ask: "Will she make it, d'y' think. Captain.?" He saw what they needed. "And why shouldn't we make it? A quick-handhn' little vessel and still light enough to see, why not ? " And almost gaily drove her up, with the freshly encouraged crew to the sheets. Without a sign of slack he let her tear on, until the men turned half-round to look at him. "Trust me,'' he called, and they, high-strung but trusting, stood ready. Not until the spray from the surge of the dreaded lee Hne of rocks was coming over her bow and the crew thought she surely was about to strike, did he give the word. Bryan himself had the wheel then. "In sheets!" he called. They hauled like demons. "Enough?" and they snapped the half hitches on. "Now pay out!" and "Stand by again!" he called, and again like racing men awaiting the starter's pistol they crouched to the sheets. " Now ! " snapped Bryan, and in they sheeted again like demons. 13 The Dance "When I say 'Hold!' see that you hold," warned Bryan. "Ay, sir." "Now — hold!" and hold they did hard and fast, and down the forearm of the Elbow tore the little jack. Another minute of fair running and she was safe. "We played in luck," commented Bryan, and, gazing back curiously at the bent line in his wake and the rocks whereon the ceaseless white seas had never allowed the moss to fasten, his imagin- ation was off again. "Like white horses, mad white horses running wild. Lord help what they stamp under their feet! But where's our cutter? Get me the glasses and we'll have a look. H'm — there she is, going to anchor. Or is she wait- ing for us, hoping to head us off in the morning, no doubt? Afraid, by the Lord! to go back by the way she came till it's broad daylight. Yes, sir, that's what — she goes no farther on this hunt to-night. But that don't mean we don't go farther. Out of the northern gate can you take her, Wal- lace, in the night ? " "That I can. Captain." "Then take her, boy. And to you (he waved a triumphant arm at the lights and the dim hull be- hind) good-by! And now, fellows, out into the Gulf and across to the Magdalens we'll go while 14 The Dance that lad's thinking we're still hid away in here." And with the extreme of gaiety he sang again: "Oh, flying down the coast like a penitential ghost, And the howlin' west-nor'-wester warn't a-worryin* us the most — Oh, meet me up at Matakan, we'll have a party there, O Bess o' Bay of Islands and the red rose in her hair!" At an hour that should have brought them clear daylight the Weasel lay clear of the northern en- trance of Hell's Harbor; but the vapor of a frosty winter's morning lay like a black cloud on the barely undulating sea. She should have been far ofF-shore then, well on her way to the Magdalens, but the wind was even flatter than the sea. She was merely bobbing up and down, and making no more progress than a grandmother's rocking- chair across a kitchen floor. Bryan, no longer gay, was pacing her quarter; the men, gloomy, were walking her waist, and being less philosophical than their leader, swore in their beards. Except for their audible exclamations and their footfalls on the damp deck, not a sound echoed over the waters. Abruptly Bryan halted in his walk, and first cocking an ear to the wind, bent it to the rail. A long barkening to the south, and he shook his head ; 15 The Dance and yet — it came after a thoughtful pause: "Mind, whatever happens, you fellows are all right. I signed you for a fishing trip, as the papers will show. No fault of yours I had contraband stuff in the hold." At that they began to feel even more uneasy; but that they were not actually prehensive was made clear when from out of the fog came the stroke of a bell. Ding-ding, ding-ding, ding-ding — six bells, seven o'clock. On the west coast of Newfoundland it was only Government vessels that marked the time with bells. And then, exactly as it had done the previous day, the vapor quickly rolled up to the sky. Not a cable's length away lay the cutter. One pause for her commander to grasp the situation and they saw him pull the engine-room bell. She dropped easily alongside with her commander leaning over the rail of the bridge. "Come aboard," he said. The forbearance of the victor spoke in his tone. "Thanks," answered Powers, "I don't know but what we will. Come on, fellows." Not until he reached the deck of the cutter did he speak further. He had been looking over the rail at his little captive vessel, and from that turned and looked to where the rocks of the Bay of Islands lay. And then — it was with a sigh he said it: l6 The Dance "Bessie, girl, I did my best, but we lingered o'er long at that dance, and now Fm afraid you'll be having to get another partner.'* No more than that when it was time for him to be taken below. 17 ON THE BOTTOM OF THE DORY On the Bottom of the Dory THERE was constraint between the men, else it would never have happened. Martin, hauling the heavily loaded trawl over the girdy in the bow, could hardly have been expected to avert it, but ready to Harry's hand was the oar in the becket, placed there exactly for such a possi- bility. A quick flirt of a strong wrist and, bow-on or stem-to, she could have safely ridden out that sea. But Harry was not able, or not prepared, for it. Even after Martin had called, *' Watch out for the next one!'* he was slow to move. Something must have been on his mind. So, exultingly, the oncoming sea picked her up and tossed her, and far out were cast the men. "Keep clear of the trawl!" warned Martin when he knew she was going, and instinctively pulled loose the thwart as she went. When Martin came to the surface the dory lay bottom-up, perhaps thirty feet away, and between him and the dory was Harry struggling heavily. "Take the thwart," said Martin, and tossed it to him. "And here," picking up the empty trawl tub from beside him in the sea and casting that also 21 On the Bottom of the Dory < to Harry, although with each effort he pushed him- self under water and came up gasping; and yet a light matter that to him who was a swimmer beyond the average, and who now, weighted down though he was with heavy winter clothing, jack-boots, oilskins, had but Httle fear of reaching the dory. Between tub and thwart the weaker man rested himself until Martin made the dory, when, taking a turn around one elbow of the painter which Martin cast him, he allowed himself to be drawn carefully alongside, and being by then pretty well exhausted he accepted Martin's further help to climb up on the bottom of the dory. "And now take the plug strap,'' said Martin; and in his voice was just a note of contempt. And there they clung on, Harry hanging safely to the plug strap, while Martin balanced himself with widespread arms and legs straddling the nar- row bottom of the dory's bow. Two hours they clung so, and still the fog held; and then the snow began to fall. Only once did it break, and then only as if to make a lane through which they might see the sun sinking in the west. And with that sun went down much of their hope, though Martin would never have confessed it aloud. "One good thing, we're sure of the points of the compass anyway, now. 'Tis a northeaster, and 'twill hang on till morning, surely." 22 On the Bottom of the Dory "FU never live till morning," said Harry, "even if I could hang on that long." The consuming pity that glowed in Martin for all weak creatures dulled for a moment to the old ashes of contempt, though his "No, I don't think you could," was more by way of prodding the creature to at least a show of courage. Bo-o-o-m ! "There goes the skipper with that old-fashioned fog-gun of his." Martin raised himself on an elbow as if to catch an echo. "She'll still be at anchor, and in the same spot. That's good." "The vessel!" exclaimed Harry, and began to call wildly: "Hi-i — the Ariadne!" "You might save your breath," suggested Martin, and again his scorn betrayed itself; "for she must be a mile to wind'ard of us." It was not yet too dark for Martin to observe the expression of despair overcasting Harry's face. And dwelling on it all, the man's weakness, more of temperament than of intention, disdain again crumbled before pity. "Cheer up, boy, cheer up. 'Tis a deep sounding yet to bottom." "Why, have you any notion we c'n save our- selves ? " "Oh, I don't know — a way will turn up, maybe." "No, no, how can we .? What's there for us to do if she can't hear us ? She surely won't break 23 On the Bottom of the Dory out her anchor and begin to cruise 'round look- ing for us for a long while yet; not till morning anyway, for the very fear that we, too, might be looking for the vessel. And they couldn't have seen us when we capsized, could they ? Dryly Martin spat out on the sea. "If we couldn't see them in the fog, a big vessel and high rigging, 'tisn't likely they could see us, a Httle dory flat out on the water." "I thought not." Despair again spoke in the falling tone. "Man, man, spare your Hps if they won't shape o' themselves to a little word of courage. I didn't say there warn't any hope." Bo-o-o-m! came over the darkening waters. " Like a word from home, that old fog-gun, isn't it?" Martin had made his way along the dory's bottom until now he lay beside his mate. Possibly for five minutes he lay so, gazing out thoughtfully along the broken level of the heaving sea. "Ay, there is a chance." The meditating pauses gave way then to more incisive speech: "Help me get off my oilskins. One hand at a time, and between us we can do it. And don't be so everlastingly afraid you'll fall overboard. There — there's the oil- jacket. Now the boots. Let 'em go. 'Tis no time now for economy — better them than us. 24 On the Bottom of the Dory Now the oil pants. There — the clothes'll come easier. Damn, but these wet underclothes — they're Hke another skin, aren't they ? There now," and he stood up on the bottom of the dory, swaying easily to the up-hea-ve of it. "Br-h-h — but the air's cold. The water's warmer." And, dropping down by the bow, immersed himself to the neck. "What you going to do, Martin.? "I thought of tryin' to swim to the vessel." "W-h-a-t!" "W-h-a-t— why not.?" "Why, who ever heard of such a thing } You'll never make it." "No.? And what then? Will I be any worse off than you here .? There's no chance for us to be picked off to-night, and the skipper won't shift his berth to-night, for the very reason you said your- self — he'll think we're looking for the vessel. And so he'll wait where we can find him, as he'll think. So, even if it clears up to-night, which it won't, he can't see us, and so no chance for us before morn- ing. And you can't last till then, you say. And there's one chance for me to make the vessel. Straight up the wind she lies, may be three-quar- ters of a mile, maybe a mile." " K-k-k — and if you don't ? Like a speck you'll be on the wide ocean, tossed around in the 25 On the Bottom of the Dory- sea and pushed back on the tides, till you're used up, and then- " " Save your pity of me, boy. FU not suffer like you here. FU wear my body out — that's true. But no long fear to wear my mind out. Fve known them that went crazy in straying dories, and we're not only astray but upset. Fll fight till Fm used up, and then, before I know it, Fll sink away like a child to sleep, and 'twill be all over, and Fll be gone where I expected to be gone be- fore this — ^where I surely expect to go some day." "Oh, don't talk Hke that. But, Martin, if you do make it? Just think, you might make it — you don't know your own strength. It's common talk, Martin, your strength. Will you come back to me?" Martin cast the other's imploring arm from him. "Come back? Heavens, man, for what do you take me? Come back!" " What do you mean by that, Martin ? You will or you won't ? Oh, Martin, I know what's in your mind. And I know what that'll mean to me ? Before morning Fll be standing before the God that made me, and, Martin, Fm afraid. Martin, did Malachi ever hint to you of anything between me and you and Sarah ? Ay, he has. I know he has. Malachi never did like me much, but since we left on this trip he's hated me. He 26 On the Bottom of the Dory drew part of it out of me one night on deck, and I remember how afraid I was to pass between him and the rail for fear he'd take it into his head to throw me overboard. And he would, if he made up his mind to it, and no fear he wouldn't sleep sound after it. A terrible man, Malachi Jennings, and hates me. Ever since he saw me at Sarah's house before we left home this trip, while he was on his way to the dock to go aboard the vessel, he's had a grudge in for me. And that's what's be- tween you and me, though neither of us has spoke of it, all this trip. Dory-mates are we, and yet like strangers. Martin, I'll tell you the whole truth. Sarah had promised to have me — in a way. At first she said that she couldn't make up her mind; but next trip in, she said at last, she'd have me if — if " "If what?" The naked man in the water rose up beside the other, his shoulders and back un- cannily white against the dark sea, and the face white, all white but the staring dark eyes. Harry drew back in alarm. " Don't look at me so, Martin — don't ! She said yes — if she weren't prom- ised to somebody else before the vessel went out." "If she warn't — to somebody else." Martin re- peated it slowly. "And," after a pause — "and she wasn't either." "Why, no. It couldn't been plainer, of course. 27 On the Bottom of the Dory She was expecting you'd ask her before we went out this trip. And I thought you would. And I knew you would if I hadn't been there, and so I took care you'd see me at the window as you crossed the street to come up to the door; and I laughing so, you didn't come in, but went on by, and she sitting in back couldn't see how it was." "And she promised you?" "Well, the same as that. 'If I'm not promised to anybody else when next you're home — if I'm not — I'll marry you,' she'd already said, not know- ing that you had come to the door and gone away without ringing." The white body sank into the water, and like a strange voice the words came back to the man at the plug strap. "You see our chance — the tide is almost slack now. In an hour now 'twill be setting to the southwest, and the westerly tide at its height is here like a mill-race — 'twill carry you and the dory out of sight long before morning. But in the next hour or two you won't drift far from here, and I'll try and make the vessel. If I do, I'll be back with a dory, and we'll find you, don't fear. And don't get discouraged if I'm gone longer than you think I ought to be. I may not make the straightest course for the vessel, for, after all, she's a small speck for a man to be scan- ning the wide ocean for on a dark winter's night 28 On the Bottom of the Dory — and a man's head so low when swimming that he can't see too far. But they're keeping the fog- gun going — there it is again; but fainter, which means that we're further away than we were. They'll keep it going all night. Malachi would stay awake a week to do that for me if there warn't another soul aboard her. Malachi and me — we like each other pretty well, and I hate to think of leaving him. But I'm going, and in case we never see each other again, good-by to you." With a great fear Harry saw the white shoulders slip away from his side. From the level of the dory's bottom he gazed along the sea, till he could no longer see the gleam of the white skin. He listened, and faintly he could hear the strokes of arms and legs kicking through the water. Suddenly it flashed on him — it was all a trick! Why hadn't he thought of it before ^ Martin, a mighty man in the water, would make the vessel. And Martin would not come back. And why .? Because he, and not Martin, had her promise. That was why. She would never go back on her word, not while he held her to it. But if he were lost, how easy it would all be for Martin! And for her, with Martin, there would be small regret for his own self dead and gone. "Martin! Martin Carr!" he shrieked. "Don't leave me! Don't leave me here alone!" - 29 On the Bottom of the Dory But no word came back to him; and he could no longer even hear the steady, powerful strokes of Martin Carr struggling with the heavy waves. Now and again the swimmer lifted his head and sought to pierce the darkness, but even from the crest of the rolling seas he doubted if he could have made out the vessel ten feet away. Rather to rest himself than for any other purpose were those little pauses — 'twas a long road before him. Onward he strove. In smooth water or on a clear night he would have had but small doubt of the outcome. Straight for her light he would steer then — it would mean only lasting it out. Even if he were hours on his quest he would have made it in any kind of light; but now there was only in- stinct for his course, and the chill of the water was numbing his muscles, even as the over-roll of the waves, which he could not always forecast, some- times caught him unawares and took his breath away. It was hard telling at times whether he was going ahead at all. Once he looked back to see if he might make out the dory and thereby judge of his course, but in a moment he realized how foolish that was. Certainly his judgment could be no longer sound, which meant that his strength, like the tide, must be ebbing. And recalling the man on the dory's bottom: "Blast him, he's no good — he never was — and for myself I could've 30 On the Bottom of the Dory hung on till morning. Yes, and a lot longer, but now Vm in for it." He battled on and found his brain was not: al- together dulled. All the tales he had ever heard of men lost in fog and snow came back to him; all the men that ever went astray in dories and were found later, dead from hunger or exhaustion, or it might be frozen stiff, recurred vividly to him. And that man back there, what if he were — ? Yet he was worth no better — and a good woman to have him, and Sarah above all women! Faugh! What was right .? That he should return and get him ? Would he — if it was the other way about — come back for him, Martin Carr .? Would he ? Martin laughed aloud to think of it, even as he struggled. Bo-o-o-m! At the report fresh courage came back to him. It seemed nearer. A long battling and it sounded again — Bo-o-o-m! Again — but what a long wait between! Martin could barely Hft his arms through the sea, he was that tired, and began to realize that the end might be at hand, and with the thought all the stories he had ever heard of men drowning alongside the vessel flashed into his brain again. Bo-o-o-m ! "What an everlastingly mournful sound — like minute-guns for the dead." B-oo-o-m ! 31 On the Bottom of the Dory "Fainter, that's sure. Fm falling off. YouVe got to bid higher up, Martin Carr." Po-o-o-m ! "Nearer, but no time yet to waste breath in hailing." Bo-o-o-m ! Still faint it was, and yet from out of the snow loomed phantom lights and high, vague shadows of phantom sails. Boom! The flash of it was almost blinding, and the shock enough to deafen. No phantom gun, anyway. "God! I must be some tired," he observed; "so near and not to suspect it" — and lifting a hand he felt the side of the vessel. But there was nothing to hold to, and the sea threat- ened to throw him against her planking. Pa- tiently he shoved off and made for the bow. And not till then, with a hand to her straining cable, did he hail. To Malachi Jennings, on watch and somewhat worn with anxiety, came the first faint call. " God ! spooks!" he muttered. "Spooks from out the black sea — if a man believed in spooks." "Hi-i — the Ariadne!'' a stronger hail, for to Martin by then the breath was returning. "No spook that," exclaimed Malachi, and looked about uncertainly. "Where away the dory ? " he shouted. 32 On the Bottom of the Dory "No dory, Malachi, but a tired man wants a hand!" "Martin, by God!" and he leaped for the knight- heads, and there found him, by now cHnging to the bobstay. Over the bow dropped Malachi. "A ghost, Martin, I thought it was first;" but no further babbling before he took a turn of a line about the white, naked body, and directly had him on board. "Where's Harry ? Glory be — God forgive me for saying it — but is he gone ?" "No, but waiting, Malachi." "Waiting ? For who ? for what ?" "For a dory to be put over and pick him ofF. He's lying — so" — Martin's arm pointed — "a good mile — ten miles, I thought it one time. But call it a mile straight down the wind." "And would you go back for him ? For that chalk and water image of a human being ? God, man, it's all in your hands now — leave him there." "No, no, no, Malachi — we must do what's right." "And what's right in this case? A creature like him to be placed ahead of you ? He never was any good nor never will be, while you — man, leave this to me. Sometimes disillusioned men like mc win hope of heaven by watching out for overtrust- ful men like you, Martin Carr." 33 On the Bottom of the Dory Footsteps hurried toward them. The skipper's face broke into the yellow circle of the riding light under which they were now standing. "What's it, Malachi ? And what's that — a man ?" "It's Martin, Skipper. His dory's capsized, and he's swam aboard." "Man alive, how did you? And where's Harry?" "Gone, Martin thinks. Skipper;" and to the tired man whispering: "Hist now, leave it to me," and turning to the augmenting group on deck: "Quit asking him questions and give him a mug of coffee." "Sure, a mug of coffee — this way, Martin," and helped him below. Into the fo'c's'le Martin staggered, and, his nak- edness covered, dropped on the locker nearest the galley stove, and drank the mug of coffee they brought him. Before he had quite finished they poured him out another, and sat around and dis- cussed the fate of Martin's dory mate. "So Harry is gone? Well, that's hard, too." "Yes, though I never could warm up to him; but when a man's lost it's different." "Poor Harry! Well, there was a bit of good in him, too. And lost at last!" Martin had been coming out of his stupor. He gazed from one to the other. "Who's lost? 34 On the Bottom of the Dory Harry ? Who said he was lost — me ? No, no — God, man, no!" "What, he's not! Not lost, you say, Martin ?" It was the skipper himself who grasped his arm. "No, no, no! Over with a dory and put her straight for where I said and you'll get him. And keep the gun going all the time, never a let-up — play tunes with it. By that he'll know Fm aboard and 'twill cheer him up while he's waiting. Over with a dory — quick!" The skipper jumped for the companionway. "Sling a dory over the side." "Ay, go straight down the — " but the reaction setting in, he leaned back with closed eyes. "That's enough, Martin." Malachi was beside him on the locker. "You're tired, man — turn in. You told me how the dory bore. I'm going in her with the skipper and we'll get him." Martin gazed blankly after the retreating boot- legs of Malachi, and rubbing his forehead and turning to the cook: "What was it he said.?" The cook jumped to his side. "Martin, man, you're all gone. There, you're staggering again. Another mug of coffee now. And here, tumble into this bunk." The creak of the rope and block came down to them from the deck. Martin, about to roll into the seductive, handy bunk, hesitated, turned out 35 On the Bottom of the Dory onto the locker, and, gazing up the companion- way, asked: "Isn't that the dory?" "Sure." A splash on the water dented the tense silence below. "There, she's over the side, Martin. Don't worry — they'll get him, the skipper and Malachi." "Malachi.? Let me by. Stand aside — aside, man!" "Steady, Martin. You're weak — He down." "Weak?" He tossed the cook to the fore- bulkhead and rushed on deck. Malachi was pushing the dory from the side of the vessel. "Towind'ard, Skipper," he was saying. "Straight up the wind, Martin said." "No, but to le'ward. Skipper, straight down the wind — and to make sure, I'll go myself," and leaped from rail to dory. "Oh, Martin, Martin," groaned Malachi— "A great soul you, but, sometimes, I think, a damn fool too." Down the wind went the dory. 36 THE BLASPHEMER The Blasphemer THEY were fitting out the Julia Has kins for a salt-fishing trip, and a cask of beef was about to be hoisted aboard. An easy package it should have been for the three lumpers to handle, two on the dock to hoist and one to guide and receive it on the vessel's deck below; but these were careless — one paused midway to look at an incoming ItaHan bark. "They say she's got twenty thousand tubs of salt in her hold," he ob- served. "No!" exclaimed his mate, and also turned his head. Down between dock and vessel plopped the cask. The lumpers, leaning over string-piece and rail, gazed down at where it disappeared in the muddy water, then stood up and eased their souls with three separate strings of oaths; particularly he who was most to blame, whose eyes had been first diverted by the green-painted bark. The man who should have been most concerned, master and owner of the vessel, he who would have to pay the bill, did not step a foot nearer the scene of the catastrophe ; merely looked toward the men at fault and said: "I callate that's gone. You 39 The Blasphemer mightVe been more careful, Charley, but get a move on and go ahead with the rest of the stores. And one of you go up to the office and tell 'em to send down another cask of beef." Old Peter and the usual staff of assistants up in Crow's Nest had observed the incident of the cask. And now, when they saw that the cask was gone beyond all hope of salvage, they all drew long breaths and began to talk at once. "Did you see that, Peter? And he never let a yip out of him. Why there's some skippers would have skinned those lumpers alive! And swear? Why, just imagine what" — and named, one after the other, a dozen well-known masters of vessels. "Why, they'd been a smell of hot copper blowing up here long afore this. Why is that, Peter, d'y' s'pose ?" Peter turned to them. "Why d'y' s'pose? It's before any of you were old enough to be allowed to loaf around here; but if you won't let that fire die down, I'll tell it. Pity among seven of you you can't put one piece of wood in the fire." He had to stop then to put the glasses on a sail that was lifting above the horizon at Eastern Point. His face had taken on a sudden animation. "It's queer now if it should be her — but time enough," and carefully laid down the glasses. "This man below, Jed Stevens, that never 40 The Blasphemer opened his mouth a while ago, where many another man might Ve considered he had justification, came of a family of swearers. He had an older brother, Lewis, was the awful man at it. I mind there was a particular main boom that the owners sent down to his new vessel one day and Lewis didn't like the looks of it, and swore so hard over it — four lines of rhyme he made of it — that he went home and died. Busted a blood-vessel or something. Well, when Lewis died everybody said that Jed would keep up the reputation of the family as he'd grow older. And he did. For sheer out-and-out capacity to swear I d' know but what he could outdo Lewis. Only he couldn't make poetry of it. However, he was the awful man with the language, and for that reason alone hard to get along with. Good men don't care to have a skipper swearing at 'em day and night. Men used to come and go with him so fast that he rarely carried the same crew two trips in succession. His own brother Mark — the youngest of the three brothers, a fine young fellow, and who didn't have the gift of swearin' — left him that way. And that worried Jed, who thought a lot of Mark — a lot more than ever he let on. He went out of his way to get him to come back, but Mark said: *No; when you learn to control your tongue, I'll ship with you — not till then.' 41 The Blasphemer "In those times Jed used also to get pretty drunk now and then. One trip he started out that way — kept the jug between his knees all the way to the grounds, and never moved to his meals, just sat there and drank — straight from the jug, bothering with no mug or glass on the way. The second night out it came on to blow pretty hard, and the vessel began to groan under it. But luckily not much sea in the beginning and also lucky, it bein' winter, that she warn't carryin' her topm'sts; but even with her four lowers it was gettin' too much for her. She was rolling down outrageously, but nobody dared to take any sail off her without the skipper's orders, and he was drunk in his bunk, half comin' to himself, and getting up for another drink every few hours, swearing while he was drinkin', and then rollin' back again. "Well, the old Jonathan Edwards dived along, taking most of it aboard. We could do nothing but batten down everything and let her go, hopin' the skipper would come to himself before 'twas too late. He did come to after a while — sixteen hours on end he'd slept — and rolled out of his bunk and began to notice things. First, he noticed that the companionway was closed tight. *Open up them hatches and give us some air,' he snarled, and a string of blue oaths with it. 42 The Blasphemer "The boards was no more than slid out of the way when a sea came pouring into the cabin and set everything that was loose adrift. The sight of the water didn't soften his temper any. He swashed around in it in his stockin' feet and swore harder than ever. * That's what I like to see/ he says — 'the old girl givin' herself a bath,' and a second deluge piled up over the lockers and into the lee bunks. "He thought he'd take a look outside then, but hadn't got his head out the companionway when down upon him tumbled a little mountain of water — it nigh to floated him down the cabin steps. Well, he swore and blasphemed worse than ever at that. He'd go on deck, he would, if the entire blasted ocean was to roll over him. And he did, not yet altogether sober, and climbs out on deck and holds on by the wind'ard corner of the house. "*You blasted, blear-eyed dogfish, how's she behavin' ^ ' he roars to Ben Garland, who had the wheel. "'She's not behavin',' Ben fires back at him. 'She's got more sail on than any mortal vessel should.' "'But this is no mortal vessel — she's the devil's own, and I'm the devil's own boy. Did you know that, Bennie ? No .? Well, that's what — I'm the devil's own boy, and you're one of my crew. And 43 The Blasphemer the Old Boy'll stand by his own, never you worry/ and more of that kind of talk, and then, crawling over to the main riggin' and happening to look to windward, he spies for the first time the Grenada, 3, fine vessel which had come upon us during the afternoon. "He begins to swear at her and at her skipper. * There he is. Bob Miller, the dog's whelp, who took my brother away from me,' and then from cursin' Miller, began cursin' the sea, and back again to the Grenada and Bob. ' But FU head him off — I'll head him off. I know the little spot he's beat- ing up for, and I'll be there and have a dory over afore him.' "And the wind kept comin' harder, and every- thing aboard her under an awful strain. There were queer lights on the water and her sheets were like iron bars. * Skipper,' calls whoever it was to the wheel, *if you don't take something off her soon, I'll cut.' "*You cut and I'll cut you — cut your blasted head off.' But 'twarn't blasted nor no such mild word he used, but a word that made my blood run cold. *Go for'ard, you milk-and-water son of a she-wolf, and let a man take the wheel. Cut, will you ? Cut .? Not if her trucks was rolling under. Go for'ard.' "With him in that state of mind we ran onto the 44 The Blasphemer grounds and alongside the Grenada, which being a big sailer, a lot faster than the Jonathan, was there hours before us. It was a wicked morning. On the Grenada they were hove-to, with only the watch on deck, plainly waiting for it to moderate before they'd put a dory over. The skipper ran the Jonathan up under the Grenada's quarter and hailed. Everybody came on deck at his voice. Jed*s young brother, Mark, I mind was there — a fine-lookin' young fellow he was, too — the pride of all Jed's people. "Young Mark called out, 'Hello, Jed!' for with all the other's backslidings he couldn't help having a young fellow's affection for an older brother. But Jed didn't notice him, only began to swear and blaspheme at Miller. "'And so you're afraid to put a dory over? And there's owners that give your kind a vessel. Bob Miller ? Well, I'll show you up — and right now.' And, 'Wind'ard dory to the rail!' he orders. "Over on the Grenada, as we could see. Miller could hardly believe it; but seein' our dory to the rail, he began to get nervous, for, you see, the partic'lar spot — the Gully 'twas called, new dis- covered then — was full of halibut, and whatever skipper got their trawls out first would get the fish in the first of their hunger. On the Grenada they didn't want to put their dories over, no more 45 The Blasphemer than we did on the Jonathan, but you know how it is — no crew of men goin' fishin' Hkes to stand by and let another crew shame 'em. And no skipper is goin' to stand by after bein' dared as Bob Miller was by Jed Stevens. No, sir, he isn't goin' back to Gloucester and have people throw that in his face as he walks down the street. So Bob orders a dory to the rail, too. Through the mist we could barely see him, we havin' drifted away some by then, but bein' to looard we could hear his voice. "Well, we all felt that no dory could live in that sea, but what could we do ? The last thing a man wants to have said of him is that he's afraid to do what other men stand ready to do. We hoisted the dory, and Ben Garland threw in two skates of trawls. Ben's and my dory it was. Over went the dory and with it Ben and myself to the rail, him to the stern and me to the bow falls, waitin' for a chance to leap into it. Ben leaped and I leaped. And then came a roar, and over us like a tidal wave tumbled what I thought was the whole blessed ocean. Up against the side of the vessel went the dory smash! and kindhng wood was made of it. Across the rail cvf the vessel I went close by the main riggin', which I grabbed and clung to till the crew helped me aboard. I was the lucky man. Two of my 46 The Blasphemer ribs stove in, but I didn't know that till later. But not so Ben. * Peter's all right, but Ben's gone!' I heard somebody call out, even while I was still floating around on the break tryin' to find my feet. The next thing I heard the skipper shriekin' like a mad man, *No, he ain't — I got him!' And, sure enough, he had grabbed Ben as he was goin' by the quarter. . Even as we looked, Ben, with the skipper's help, was dimbing over the rail. 'Didn't I tell you the devil takes care of his own, Bennie?' the skipper was sayin', and began a new blasphemin' to make your blood curdle. "Suddenly somebody yells, *Let the main sheet run!' I looked and saw the squall, and, knowin* what was meant — that she'd never stand with the mains'l taking it full, that she'd capsize or else take the spars out of her — with a couple of others I jumped aft, all of us roarin', * Your main sheet, Skipper!' "The skipper, still blaspheming at Ben, didn't make out what we were so excited about, and when I rushed for the sheet, and he saw what I would be at, he grabbed me. And then we had it, the pair of us wrestlin' for the sheet. His hand was to my throat and my fingers to his windpipe. I mastered him and was about to cast off the end of the sheet when it came — a blast of wind and the 47 The Blasphemer followin' sea, and over she went on her beam ends. "We considered ourselves gone then and rushed up to the wind'ard side of her to hang on to what we could and for as long as we could before she went down. And while we were clingin' there, some in the fore and some in the main rigging, Ben and myself on what part of the wind'ard quarter was out of water, the skipper all at once gripped my arm. I c'n feel the grip to this day. * Peter, Peter, look there and tell me d'you see it, too! Maybe it isn't so, Peter.' He was crouched over the rail, his body shrinking and one hand up to his head as if he was afraid something was going to strike him, and what I could see of his face was the color of one of the gray seas that was hissing around us in the queer light of that wicked morning. And he took his hand down and looked again from the vessel, searching the crests of the nearest seas to wind'ard, and we looked where he was lookin', and there was nothing. And we said, * Where, • Skipper, where V and looked again, and that time we saw what it was — close by the vessel's side now. Driftin' by under her counter, under our feet almost, it was — the dead body of Mark Stevens, the eyes from out of the drenched dead face staring up — God, yes — at his brother, as if reproaching him. *My judgment!' says Jed, that time not 48 The Blasphemer even raising his voice. Man, 'twas awful, and as we looked it drifted off astern of the vessel and sank slowly — slowly — from out of sight — if you can imagine a body sinkin' that way and at the same time bein' buffeted about in the sea. Lookin' farther, we saw what was left of a stove-in dory atop of another curvin' sea, and we knew what had happened. They had tried to launch a dory same as we did. And what had nigh happened to Ben, my dory-mate, was what had actually hap- pened to Mark Stevens, and our vessel bein' nigh and to looard of them, his body had been tossed down to us." Peter pressed the lids over his eyes. "Terrible — terrible — but so it was." The Italian bark had come to anchor, and Peter had to stop to admire her. "A handsome craft that — aye, a noble vessel. Why don't we have fleets of those under our flag .? And twenty thousand tubs of salt I hear she has in her. And there! — Jed Stevens '11 probably take his salt from her — four hundred tubs he gen'rally takes. And when he's wet four hundred tubs he'll sure have some fish in her hold." Peter paused while he glanced down to the Julia Haskins, in whose stern was now her skipper, standing with ha. off, gazing seaward. Peter's eyes shone with pity. "I've seen him 49 The Blasphemer stand there and look out like that a hundred times. And always quiet, just like you see him now, and as if wonderin' at something or other out to sea; as if he was fearful of something or other — as I believe he is. And now with that vessel coming in — but maybe you noticed a while ago that he never looked over the side of the vessel after that cask of beef sank almost under his feet ? That's because it went down under her port quarter. To this day he can't bear to stand on deck and look under the port quarter of a vessel. At sea he won't even heave the lead from her port quarter — he'll bring her to on the other tack before he'll do that. It was under her port quarter he saw his brother's body drifting. He'll look far away and off from that quarter, but never down and under her counter." "And he don't blaspheme any more, Peter.?" "Blaspheme! I don't beheve he ever even thinks of blasphemin' now. No milder-mannered, nor more temperate man sails out of Gloucester to-day. Queer how human nature works, isn't it.? I used to think that long before this he'd be back to his old ways, but he never has. But let me see.*' Peter directed his glasses toward the horizon. "That one standing in — it is the old Grenada — the sight of her on the horizon brought it all back to me. A dog in her day, the Grenada, 50 The Blasphemer She sailed five mile to the Jonathan s four that passage out, spite of the sail we tried to carry. And took us off — lassoed us off the deck of her afore she sank that morning. Let me see — seven weeks on a halibut trip — ^bout time she showed up. No, Jed don't even swear any more. But, man, man, what he had to go through afore he came to it!" 51 THE COMMANDEERING OF THE LUCY FOSTER The Commandeering of the Lucy Foster THE word had been passed that Wesley Marrs was in from another slashing trip from For- tune Bay; and sure enough there was the match- less Lucy tied to her dock, but no sign, at the mo- ment, of her redoubtable master. However, a hint from the crew and a search disclosed him — but of all places! In Perry's, the picture framer's, was Wesley, leaning over the low counter; and a sheet of brine- stained paper was in one hand, and his face was smiling as a sunlit sea. "And do a good job on it," he was saying to the clerk; "oak, or cherry, or ebony, or whatever 'tis is the swell thing in frames. And — Hah } who ?" At another word from the clerk he looked toward the door. "HuUo-o-oh, boy! Come in, come in. What? Somethin' doin' when I got that, did y' say ? Was there ! Ho — ho — ho — ^was there ? "We was in Fortune Bay,'* began Wesley, "layin' to old John Rose's wharf in Folly Cove. 55 The Commandeering And John had thirteen or fourteen hundred bar- rels of frozen herrin' spread out on the scaffolds and along the beach near by, and 'twas a sight you'd sail a hundred mile to see — them fine, fat, frozen fish layin' out there under the winter sky. And John and me'd pretty nigh come to one way of thinkin' about a price for them same herrin', when along comes the Gover'ment cutter. And they hails me, and asks me if I didn't think I'd better be gettin' under way and headin' for home, or anywhere else — it didn't matter much where, so long's 'twas away from the Newf'undland coast. "Nacherally, I said I didn't see why I should, and mildly enough, too, I said it — mildly enough, that is, considering. There was differences of opinion, to be sure, on the herrin' rights of Ameri- can and Newf'undland fishermen, but one man's opinion was as good as another's till it was settled. "'But no man's opinion ain't nigh as good as the Gover'ment's,' says the cutter's commander, and damn abrupt, too, he was. "*I dunno,' I says. *It depends on whose Gov- er'ment's ' "'Well, my Gover'ment's, gen'rally,' he butts in again; 'but this time your Gover'ment's.' "'When I see it I'll believe it,' I says. "'Well,' and he whisks a paper out of his pocket and slaps it under my nose. An American 56 of the Lucy Foster newspaper, too, it was, which you think'd have a good word for Gloucester. You know the paper, and I know it, which's never yet hesitated to slam Gloucester's interests. Now it had the opinion of this chap in Washington, and we all know him. You know how long he'd hesitate to sacrifice Gloucester and all New England — ^yes, and the whole country, if need be, for a foreign policy of his that three-quarters of the people of this coun- try don't want. This interview with him said that the contentions of the American fishermen as to their herring rights could probably not be upheld before an international court of — m — m — adjudication, that's it. And on another page, the one where this was put — no pictures or dis- patches — editorial page, yes — Curtin pointed out more to the same effect; that no doubt Gloucester would come to her senses now and that may be the legislators, the Congressmen and the power- ful Senator, who had hitherto succeeded in block- ing the wheels of international something or other, would halt — and so on. "*What do you think now?' says Curtin; *your great American statesman.' "* Great slush!' I says. *And him an Ameri- can I Why, he's no more American than you are. Captain Curtin. He only happened to be born in America. Why, he's got as much use for most 57 The Commandeering American people as for gorillas in the jungle. He probably thinks men like me and the gorillas pretty near the same class. Government by him ?' I goes on. *Why, his notion of a good Gov- ernment is to have the laws so that the pufFy-eyed, heavy-jowled chaps from the mahogany offices can sleep easy nights. Anything that interferes with the comfort of that kind of people is bad Government; but for you and me and men like us — the men that have to sail the sea, and them that dig in the mines, that cut the timber in the winter woods, or that plough the prairie, or do any of those hundred things whereby a man brings some- thing into his country that wasn't there before — to hell with us! You blasted lick-spittle! d'y' imagine Fm intendin' to be bound by your notion of what law is ? ' I says and punches the picture of his whiskered face in the paper. I only wished I had himself instead. "Oh, I was good and mad, and the thought of them herrin' that old John Rose had spread out there, it didn't make me feel any better. I turns to Curtin. *Do you really mean that I got to get out this bay ? ' "*I do just that, Captain Marrs,' he says. * And to make sure that you do go — for I can't stay hangin' around here forever to watch you — here's a gentleman will see that you do. I've instruc- 58 of the Lucy Foster tions from St. John to put this gentleman aboard you, and his orders are to stay aboard till you're well out the bay/ "Well, I was fit to be triced to the main riggin'. But he had me, his steam-cutter and his guns; my vessel locked into a little harbor and not so much as a duck gun aboard. So, though I hove some lovin' glances back at old John Rose and them fourteen hundred barrels of fine, fat, frozen herrin', I swings the Lucy out, with the gentleman from St. John's wavin' pleasantly from the Lucys quarter to the commander of the cutter on his bridge. "This chap the cutter had put aboard to watch me was a new appointee of the Crown, he told me. He meant well enough ; but why is it so many of those chaps think there's something about themselves that's so much ahead of anything that can ever come out of you and me ? A large man, he was — not big, but large — ^you know that kind — pleasant-lookin' enough, only his eyes had about as much color and fire as a boiled hake's — you've seen the washy eyes of a boiled fresh hake — ^yes ^. Hah ? Goes better if it's well salted ? It cert'nlydo. "And so, I callate, would this chap, who began to tell me all about himself right away — had been up and down the coast of his own country in some little steamer on some Crown commission or other, 59 The Commandeering and never seasick in his life. No, sir, never. And maybe so, though to offer that as proof that you're cut out for a seaman is about as sensible as to say that if the smell of fresh paint don't make you sick to your stomach then the Lord intended you for a painter. Ain't that about so ? Sure it is. But what this chap didn't know of the sea! He told me of his coming across the Atlantic. One day, though, it did blow! My word, yes. Near as I could make out, she took some water over her bow one day and wet down some fat old unsuspectin' ladies that was baskin' on the sunny side of the main deck. A great storm — ^yes, it must 've been. "Just outside the bay the Lucy ran mto a nice breeze o' wind, and I took the stays'l off her, for you see she'd started her topm'st on the run down, and I misdoubted the stick 'd stand the stay'l and that gaff tops'l both pulling on it to once. If it warn't the stick was weak and I expected to use it later, I'd no more taken that stays'l off that day than I'd taken off my undershirt 'cause of the heat — and it the fourteenth of December. But seeing it come off, this chap says, *Hah, the storm too strong for her. Captain ? ' "'Storm?' I says. 'What storm.? And too strong for the Lucy? For the Lucy!* I says, and as I'm standin' here 'twas no more than the 60 of the Lucy Foster pleasantest, cheerfullest, agreeablest weather imag- inable — a proper sailin' breeze, just what a doctor who'd ordered a sea voyage for an invaHd would 've had, with no more sea than to barely save the gang from washin' down decks next mornin'. "Thinkin* his remarks over during that night while we were rolling about outside the bay put ideas into me. And thinkin' again of them four- teen hundred barrels of fine, fat, frozen herrin' back to old John Rose's made me say to myself: * Wesley, but you'll sure go down in Gloucester's history as cert'nly a damn fool if you don't manage to get them herrin', statesman, cutter, and Crown commissioner, notwithstandin'.' "And the breeze makin', d'y' see, I turns to the Crown job chap. 'By the way' — and I was deferential as hell, don't you think I warn't — 'by the way, sir, where was I to take you to ? ' "'Why, out of Fortune Bay.' " * Yes, but then where ? We're out the bay now.' "'Why, I'm sure I don't know.' "Well, I thought that was about as intelligent as he looked. Didn't know! Get's aboard a vessel and don't know where she's bound. But it was good business for me, and I gave him time to think it over. His was a brain that needed a lot of time before it got to workin' so you could notice it. 6i The Commandeering "*Why, where are you goin' to?' he asks after a while* "'Well, my home port's Gloucester.' "* Gloucester ? That's in the States, isn't it?' "*What!' I says. "'Yes, yes, I think I've heard of it. Captain. Oh, dear me, yes — a fishin' village, but I don't re- member seein' it on any map.' "Well, I could have hove him over where he stood — a fishin' village! Village! There, thinks I, is another of them that imagines that in Glou- cester the fishermen live in little huts on the beach and every evenin' after putting out the cat, we takes a lantern and looks our little boats over, and, maybe with the wife and children to help, hauls 'em a foot or two higher on the beach so the flood tide won't float 'em off" durin' the night. Village! And not on the map! 'Why, you pink-haired tea-drinker,' I came near sayin' 'Gloucester's all over the map.' But I didn't. I did say, though, 'Gloucester's the greatest fishin' port in the world,' a bit warm may be. "'Oh!' he says. "'Oh!' I ohs after him. 'And I don't know but what I'll run for there,' but at the same time, mind you, havin' no more notion of goin' home without a load of herrin' than of dumping our grub over the side. 62 of the Lucy Foster "Well, the air 'round there freshened up, till it got to be what you might call a tidy little breeze o* wind, and the Lucy, bein* light, was hopping something scandalous. We'd taken out, d'y' see, most of her ballast before leavin' home, but so she mightn't blow over altogether on the run down to Newfoundland, we'd stowed away about thirty tons of small rocks in her. But in anticipation of gettin' them herrin', all that loose rock that was intended to keep her from capsizin' had been hove out alongside old John Rose's wharf in Folly Cove, and now she was up on top of every wave like one of them empty air-balls that you sometimes see dancin' on top of a column of water out on the front lawns of swell houses. "Now, mind you, this warn't no bad gale o' wind all this time, but 'twas plain enough our pas- senger thought the devil and all was runnin' amuck over the ocean. May be the Lucys be- havior helped out the notion. There's nothing logy about the Lucy, you know, even when she's got all her hundred ton of pig iron cemented next her keelson. But now she was leapin' like a gamb'- Hn' goat on a green mossy hillside, only there warn't no moss growin' anyway 'round her. But 'twas cert'nly amusin' to watch her — that is, if you were acquainted with her ways and knew she meant no harm. 63 The Commandeering " But this chap knew nothing of the Lucys quali- fications. And he knew damn less of the sea, and pretty soon he was grippin' the weather rig- gin' and, by the expression of his face, wonderin' how much longer, I guess, before she was goin' to the bottom. Fd no notion startin' off that his features could hold so much emotion. And the crew were lookin' properly scared, too, for Fd tipped 'em off early that they mustn't be too gay when on deck. *A tempest of this magnitude,' I says to them 'is a terrible thing. So behave according.' And they did. "After a time I told the Crown chap I thought he ought to go below and have a mug of coffee, and 'twas ticklin' to see him pull himself together for that dash to the hatch. He cert'nly must 've thought he was takin' his life in his hands when he let go that riggin'. What I wanted to get him below for was so he'd have a look at what loose water was on the floor of the forec's'le, for, of course, you know it's nothing again' the Lucy if, after her years of hard drivin' and sail-carryin', her for'ard planks is a bit loose. Cert'nly not. Only nacheral — sure — that's what I say — three- inch plankin' bein' only three-inch plankin' after all. In the forec's'le the men were swashin' around with the water to their knees. It's a sight I've noticed that always impresses a shore-goin' man. 64 Our passenger thought the devil and all was runnin' amuck over the ocean. of the Lucy Foster Itcert*nly impressed the Crown appointee this time. He gets one good look — * My God ! ' he says, * she's sinking!' and rushes up on deck and takes a fresh turn of himself around the riggin'. " Then, to help things along, I pulls Tony, the cook, into it. * Didn't I see you with a pair of ro- sary beads the other day when you was overhaulin' your diddy-box?' I asks Tony. And he says yes, he had a pair his wife gave him, and I asks him wouldn't he get 'em out and do a little prayin' where he could be seen. *Why for? why for?' demands Tony, quite indignant, mind you. I had to explain it to him. *Now, Tony,' I says, *it's this way. Half the sea stories that's ever been written has always some kind of a dago, when 'tisn't a Frenchman, droppin' to his knees and mumblin' his prayers when maybe he ought to be cuttin' away the spars or mannin' the pumps. And what I want you to do now, Tony, is to go up on deck and live up to your reputation.' "Well, Tony'd be damned if he would, and said there was never a Portugee yet didn't have more courage, even if they didn't write books about it, more than any damn Englishman that ever lived. England ? Huh ! Where was they when Alfonse Hairikay, where was they when Bartly Diaz, where was they when Vasco da Gammar or some such chap, and he mentioned a dozen other 6s The Commandeering names that Fd never heard of before, and I doubt if anybody else ever did. Even Jim Riley, v^ho's something of a schoolmaster, said they were past him. "*Now, Tony, I knov^ all that,' I says. 'Fve had your kind for tv^enty-six years, and in that many v^inters and summers in small vessels on the North Atlantic a man does see some blue times. Tve never seen one of you quit yet; but that ain't it, Tony. 'Tisn't your national pride nov7, Tony. Consider, Tony,' I says, *them fourteen hundred barrels of fine, fat herrin' up to Fortune Bay, and the wad of bills you'll be handin' over to the wife, and the children. And Tony, consider them black- eyed, curly-haired rascals roUin' their little blue wheel-barrows or haulin' their little red sleds all over the hill this winter, if ever the Lucy sees them herrin' in her hold, for if ever she does, Tony, all the cutter commanders and Crown commissioners and statesmen from here to hell won't get 'em out the Lucy till the gang hoists 'em out to her dock in Gloucester.' "And Tony warmed up and said he would, only he wouldn't use no rosary. He took a pocket- ful of yellow-eyed beans out of the stores instead, and goin' up on deck he flops down by the for'ard hatch, as near under the lee of the dories as he could get, one eye out for what comfort there was, 66 of the Lucy Foster and starts in. And not such a bad job, either. He lowers his head to the deck and says something. And he looks aloft and says something, I don't know what. But I know that with every bend he takes a yellow-eyed bean out of his pocket and heaves it overboard; and up and down, heavin' the yellow-eyed boys over, he goes on. And Jim Riley — he never passes the Crown commissioner without makin' an act of contrition. 'Oh, oh, oh, the sinner Fve been!' moans Jim, by way of completin' the picture. "All this time the. vessel 'd been workin' back toward the bay and Fortune Head warn't far away, and all at once a ledge of rock shows up under our lee. We waited till the passenger saw it, which he did pretty quick, for you c'n be sure he warn't overlookin' any of the nacheral dangers. * Rocks!' he yells. 'Where — away?' says I, and springs to the riggin', with my hand shadin' my eyes. And half the gang on deck springs to the riggin', and every blessed one of 'em shades his eyes with his hands and says, 'Where away, sir?' "'Off to stawboard,' says he. "'Sure enough,' I says, and 'Sure enough,' re- peats the gang, and, ' Cripes, but what an eye that gentleman's got!' adds Riley. "'We must work her off,' I says. "'Will you be able to?* inquires our friend. 67 . The Commandeering "*I dunno/ I answers, * whether we will or no, but I hope so, 'cause it's a bad place — and the harbor of Saint Peer is around the corner,' I added, which it warn't, knowin', too, that all he cared to know was was it solid land. The Pewee Islands would 've suited him just then — anything, I cal'- late, that warn't floating around loose in the ocean. "*Yes, I'll try to make it,' I goes on, and I gathered the crew together and tells 'em we were in a tight place and to die like men, and read 'em a lecture on our priceless heritage and the im- mortal courage of our ancestors. Did y' ever try to make up such a speech as you imagine a man like our passenger 'd like, and have listenin' to you a couple of Rileys and Sullivans, and a French- man from the Miquelons, and a few others whose grand-people had been privateersmen in 1812 ? No ? Well, you don't ever want to — it's disturbin'. I winds up mine by suddenly, much to his surprise, yanking Tony off the hatch. * You cowardly dago, be a man!' I says to Tony, and he didn't like it. A little more and I think he'd mutinized on me. "And we were makin' out fine, only just when the passenger was almost brightenin' with joy came more danger. The Lucy got caught aback — myself to the wheel, yes — and down for the rocks she was borne. Well, there were the jagged devils 68 of the Lucy Foster all but under our stern, and that man sweated blood from his very heart, Til bet, before she took the wind again and was safe away. "Man, but how the gang standin' round deck puffed their cheeks at each other! Everybody but Tony, who'd gone below disgusted. Some of 'em was even more thankful than the passenger, you'd think, and he was shrinkin' up again' the lanyards, that he hadn't let go for a second in the past four hours. *My God!' he gasps, ^what a narrer escape!' "*Narrer? Well you might say it!' I says. *The narrest I've had in twenty-six years of fishin*. And after that, you c'n see, sir, it wouldn't do to try and get by those rocks to make Saint Peer.' "*No, no, no,' he says; *but can't you run her in some safe place ? ' " 'There's one place I could safely make for with the wind the way it is,' I says. * There is just one place in the world where I could go,' I says, *but I'm not allowed to.' "* Where's that?' he says "'Fortune Bay.' "*Why not. Captain .? Why not? In case of life or death ' "'Not even for Hfe or death, sir, could I without the embargo was lifted off the vessel. If I was to put into Fortune Bay now and the cutter find me 69 The Commandeering • there, my vessel would be confiscated by the Gov- ernment.' "Them light-colored pop-eyes of his almost took on a shine. * But wouldn't my orders release you ? ' "*H-m,' I says. 'H-m — I hadn't thought of that. Do you think it would, sir.?' "*Why, of course it would. If the Crown's agent can order you to do a thing, then the Crown's agent can release you. The home Gover'ment takes precedence over any colonial or local Gover'- ment. Can't you see that.?' *"Well,' I says, slow and ruminatin'-like. *H-m — I dunno — m-m ' "'Look here,' he breaks in, and you'd 'a' died if you could seen him clingin' to the lanyards, tak- ing a fresh hold every once in a while when a hogs- head or two of spray would break over them. And whoever was to the wheel always took care he got 'em reg'larly — ^you'd 'a' laffed, though Lord knows, nothin' but death itself could 'a' unhooked the grip he had to begin with. Well, to hear him there try in' to overcome my objections to goin' into Fortune Bay — Jim Riley, passin' by, had to say, *And are people really taxed to give jobs to the Hkes o' him ? ' "* That'll do you!' I says to Jim. "*What was it he said?' asks the home Gov- er'ment chap. 70 of the Lucy Foster "*Only his weak heart/ I answers him, *sayin* if we don't do something soon we'll be lost — ves- sel and all hands/ "He broke into fresh- argument then, but I didn't give in till we both happened to overhear Dal Hawkins saying to Riley: *It's fine to have respect, same's the skipper has, for the Crown; but I do hope he'll change his mind soon, for cer- t'nly it's beginnin' to look blue for us around here/ Dai's speech made a great impression. You know Dal — a hard, gray-faced, serious man, the iron- nerved man of the old story books, y' know — ^yes. "'Well,' I says, *when Dal Hawkins talks of death and danger, maybe it's time to do something, and I'll go, provided, sir' — and I looked judicial as hell saying it — * provided you'll make it a com- mand and put it in writin'/ And we went below and got out pen and ink, and when he thawed out some he wrote it out. And never a suspicion entered the soul of that Crown appointee while he was writing it out why the vessel lay so easy. Hove to, y' see, so he could write, she was layin' like a duck in a pond. Up to that time we'd been puttin' her any old which way to make her hop. "He was done at last. 'There it is, all properly worded,' he says, and read it out. And there it was — and here it is now again/' Wesley reached across the counter and took the 71 The Commandeering paper from the clerk. "Here it is, listen — dated December the fifteenth. "22? whom it may concern : "It is by my command that Wesley Marrs, master of the American schooner Lucy Foster^ returns with me to within the Hmits of Fortune Bay, there to land me at' some port to be later designated; and it is also by my command that the said Wesley Marrs be allowed to remain with his vessel, the said Lucy Foster, at some safe anchorage within the Hmits of the said Fortune Bay until the violence of the present storm shall have abated." Wesley paused. His auditor, looking over his shoulder, interjected, "But there's more to it." "Sure there is, a tail to it — postscript, yes. I'm coming to that — that's separate. 'Twas me made him add that on after he thought 'twas all complete. When you're on a job there's nothin' like doin' it up right, is there } Sure there isn't. Well, Hsten," and Wesley read further: "P. S. — The said Wesley Marrs wishes it understood that he does this much against his will. "Warn't that a good one — hah ? Much against his will! And violence of the storm! Ain't that good — hah, what? And when we dumped him off at a little port, Charlemagne, just inside the bay, he was that grateful he gave me a cigarette- holder, a beautiful Httle yellow thing with gold 72 of the Lucy Foster edges — here 'tis, see — about as useful to me as one of those Japanese kimonos that's marked three forty-eight in the store windows these days. But when I get up to the house FU make a whistle of it for the baby. "Well, after we'd put him ashore I sent word by a jack over to old John Rose's place, and was intendin' to wait for dark to sHp out after it; but one of the gang who'd rowed our passenger ashore — and nacherally stopped to have a drink while he was there — came back with the word that that fool Crown man 'd been tellin' the natives what a narrer escape the vessel had off the harbor o' Saint Peer, and they got askin' him all about it, and one of 'em, gettin' more curious, says, *What time was it you left here ?' And he tells him. 'H-m,' sniffs the doubtin' one, looking at the clock, * she's a big sailor, the Lucy Foster, but she no more than any other vessel ever built can come forty-five mile in an hour an' a half.' "And so we decided, without waitin' for the further judgment of the Crown, that the violence of the storm had abated, and put over to old John Rose's place. And we anchored to a spring cable in Folly Cove that night, and cert'nly them herrin' looked beautiful as so many solid silver fish in the moonlight. "'He, he,' cackles old John. *I knowed ee'd 73 The Commandeering be back. How much, Wesley, be un goin' to give for them herrin ?' ' "*A dollar and a half, John — say twenty-one hundred dollars and not stop to count 'em. That is, John, I would only for the Crown law, John.' " ' Perish the Crown ! ' says loyal John. * Twenty- one hundred dollars — take 'em away.' "We loaded by night and we loaded by day, and when all was below I drove for open water, for I was afeared the word 'd been passed to the cutter. And sure enough it had, but not till we were abreast of Cannaigre did we get a sight of her. We warn't so far off but I knew Curtin could see the Lucy was drawing a whole lot more water than she lawfully should — his law. But what he really thought about it we never learned. We didn't let him get near enough to tell us, but to help enlighten him I had Riley in his schoolmaster's hand make a fair clean copy of that Crown document. And I marked it 'attest' and a 'true copy, Wesley Marrs,' and further put on the gill of a herrin' by way of a red seal, and rememberin' that in my coat pocket was a length of ribbon I pulled from off my little girl's head before leavin' home, I got that, and cut- ing off about four inches of it, pinned that on by way of a blue seal, and I said, 'There, my royal com- mander, there's a proper Crown document for you,' and stuffed it in an empty quart bottle of the three- 74 of the Lucy Foster black-letters brand which Dal Hawkins 'd been usin' for linseed oil, he said — but no smell of oil in it — and corked it tight and made it fast to an old keg and hove the whole thing overboard. "And by and by we could see them hauling it over the side, after which I didn't linger around, but takes out the chart and draws one straight line from Cannaigre Rock to Cape Sable, and another from Cape Sable to Eastern Point, and down them two lanes, with fourteen hundred barrels of fine, fat, frozen herrin' in her hold, the Lucy came a-snortin'." Wesley turned to the clerk. "And be sure you do a good job on it, Joe. Don't spare no expense, mind — the best of oak, or cherry, or ebony, or whatever's the latest thing in frames. And when it's done I'm goin' to tack it over the little oil painting of the Lucy on the east wall of what my wife calls the drawin'-room. And',' Wesley turned toward the door — "what's that.? A Httle touch? Well-1-1, seein' it's so brisk a mornin', and the fifty- odd cold hours we was on the passage, I don't know but what I owe a little somethin' warmin' to my system." In the saloon opposite Perry's, with the hollow of one foot resting on the under-rail, an elbow resting on the bar, Wesley poured out his drink and raised it up, but presently set it down again to gently roar: "Hah! hah! ^by my orders, and 75 The Commandeering much against his will does Captain Marrs do this'! Ho! ho! And yet," reflectively, "that wants a finishin' touch. By rights I ought to been there when Curtin met that Crown chap — and be sure he did — and pointin' that out to him, asks him, * But did you really write that ? ' Hah, hah ! ho, ho ! Well" — Wesley raised his glass — "hopin' that every cargo of herrin' out o' Newfoundland will come as easy, and that we'll never meet any worse Crown chaps than that one — here's a shoot!" "And now" — Wesley hauled his cloth cap down over his brow — "to see about them herrin*. I was offered three twenty-five coming into the dock, but I think I c'n do a shade better than that, for you bet there won't be any herrin' come out of Fortune Bay in a hurry again. And if I get three- fifty, say, it won't be too bad, will it — hah — for a poor ignorant fisherman that don't know interna- tional law from a Japanese proclamation of war ? Oh, we poor slobs o' fishermen! Hah, hah! *Much against his will, and by my orders'! Ho, ho! wouldn't that melt any loose ice you might have 'round your deck — hah, what .'^ But don't mind me any more. Come on down and lay your eyes on the Lucy again. She c'n most talk, that vessel. Come and have a peek at her." And out the door and down the street swung Wesley, whistling blithely. 76 THE ILLIMITABLE SENSES The Illimitable Senses IT was one of those nights that sometimes come to Georges: air without motion, sea serenely still. One by one the men coiled in their lines, left their berths by the vessel's rail, salted down the fish, went below, turned into their bunks, and soon were sleeping soundly. All but three or four, who, with the passenger, were not yet wearied; and these presently began to wonder, and, after a while, to venture guesses as to when the skipper would come below. They could hear him walking the quarter, evidently striving to tread softly, but clearly failing, for one who had a mind to sleep, turning again in his bunk, cried querulously, "I wish the old man 'd get out of those red-jacks." "Hush, boy," interposed old Bob, who knew the skipper longest; "something's vexed him. He'll work it off, and then he'll come and tell us what it was about." And he came below at last, but not yet in his usual good temper. Plainly it was as old Bob had said — something had vexed him; and as nobody as a rule, has much to say on a fishing vessel while 79 The Illimitable Senses the skipper is put out about anything, so now respectful silence held the cabin — held until, after the various uneasy movements and rumbling sighs which in him betokened disappointment as well as vexation, he at length settled into his chair and began the preparations for the long-delayed night smoke; whereat gentle leading questions were inserted into the silence, first by old Bob, then by the less venturesome, all with a view to draw the master, who took no immediate heed, but exactly cut the tobacco and filled the bowl, care- fully tamped the brown weed with his forefinger, and smartly drew the match across his thigh. Pu-u-f-f! pu-u-f-f! pu-ufF! pufF! Gradually he established a good draught; slowly the marks of annoyance faded from his brow — which, incident- ally, was a fine brow, with noticeable development above the deep-set, glowing eyes, and of a white that lay like a broad band between the bronze of cheek and chin below and the iron gray of the thick hair above. At length, as he would have said himself, he eased his sheets and let her run. "Did ever, when you were walking along the street, hear a child utter some foul word that he probably no more knew the meaning of than if 'twas a bit of some foreign language ? Yes, of course. We all have; and never heard but what we felt — not angry, altogether, but grieved and 80 The Illimitable Senses shocked to think of what an upbringing that child was getting. Well, that was something like the way I felt to-night when up on deck young Russell, because some little thing went wrong, had to curse and swear and blaspheme as he did. He said things, and at his age no more notion of the awful things he was saying than the little child that utters oaths on the street — oaths that he's heard his elders using. I stopped Russell, of course, after a while; but my mind's been on it since. I tell you I don't like it. I'd known young Russell's father — ship- mates we'd been for many a year before he was lost; and thinking of him up there while I was walking the deck alone a while ago, I got to thinking of our own young days, and the Didymus, and that night which none of us who were there will ever forget — the night Eb Stone was struck down at the rail. Bob there was one of that crew, and he, too, has been a changed man since. You never heard of that?" The passenger had heard of it from a dozen sources, but never a first-hand version of it; and so "Never from one of the crew," he answered now. "Well, you'll hear it now from one who was there, and then you won't wonder, maybe, why I was so disturbed a while ago. This time I speak of the Didymus was hand-lining on Georges here, 8i The Illimitable Senses and those few of the crew now aHve are a good many years older than they were then. Young fellows all we were, few of us more than twenty- five, and proud of our notoriety as the most blas- phemous crew that ever sailed out of Gloucester. To explain how that crew came to be that would be a long sermon on one thing or another — hypocrisy mostly. They came from people who were more concerned that the world should think well of the772 than that they should themselves do right. These young fellows weren't old enough then to have got to where they could separate the true from the false; and so, seeing their elders preaching one thing and practising another, they come to the way of thinking that what their elders preached, as well as their elders themselves, must be in the wrong. From fearing God too much they come to fear Him too little. And so with them 'twas a daily riot of scoffing, blaspheming,- mocking what men should hold holy. Maybe some of them pretended to be worse than they Were, after the manner of young men at times; but there they were, that hard crew of the Didymus. "Well, this trip they were doing the usual things in the usual way, invoking the devil, defying the Almighty, profaning sacred things. A common thing with them when they went to their berths by the rail, before they hove over their line to fish, 82 The Illimitable Senses was to throw over a copper or a nickel — generally a copper, they coming mostly of thrifty ancestry — and, as it dropped into the sea, to call by name the particular power they had it in mind to ridicule. * Come up out of the sea, you fork-tailed Beelze- bub,' they'd call, casting in the coin, * and show us your horned head till I clout it with an oar'; or, *Come up, whoever You are that knows all and sees all, and scare me blue, as they say You can.' But that's as much as I dare repeat now, though one time they slipped off the end of my tongue as the swash off a rolling deck. "And so it came to the night that Eb Stone came on deck, saying he couldn't sleep, and guessed he'd fish for a while. There was nobody else awake at the time but me. I was on watch and tending to my line, too, as a man on watch quite often does, when he's not overtired and the night is fine. Having to stay awake anyway, a man might as well be fishing and adding to his store as be doing nothing. This night when Eb came up I thought it would be a good chance to go below and get a mug of coffee. Eb could have an eye out, and there was no danger anyway, for it was a wonderfully fine night anyway — 'twas the look of to-night made me think of it, even as much as Russell's words a while back — clear as could be, except for the little spats of clouds drifting across 83 The Illimitable Senses the moon and throwing small, Httle shadows onto the sea. A quiet sea it was, too, the same as it is to-night, smooth as the oilcloth on this cabin floor. A wonderful night altogether, I couldn't help remarking to Eb as I was about to drop below. "*Yes,' said Eb — to the rail he was then and ready to bait up — 'mighty fine night to get a hook into a few people from the other world. I wonder, now, would I pull up a devil if I was to throw a penny over ?' and picked up his line to overhaul it. 'And bring my knife from my bunk when you come up, will you, Ned .? But no hurry — there's a couple of baits here still fresh enough to use.' "The last thing I saw as I sank down the companionway was Eb ready to cast over his line as he stood by the rail. Well, I drew a mug of coffee from the pot on the stove. It was wonder- fully quiet below as well as on deck. Not a sound from out of the bunks, where a dozen men weVe sleeping. You know how, among ten or twelve healthy men, there will always be two or three, at least, to turn and toss, especially if they've eaten a hearty supper; but that night they were all breathing like infants. Unnaturally quiet, alto- gether, I was thinking — so quiet that before lifting the mug of coffee to my lips I couldn't help looking toward the bunks again to make sure there really 84 The Illimitable Senses were men in 'em. Yes, they were occupied — of course 'twas foolish ever to doubt it. And yet, after that, I had to look up the hatchway to assure myself again by the sight of the peeking moon and the little patches of drifting clouds that I wasn't in a dream. But there they were, all the tranquil heavens. "Well, I began to grow lonesome then — almost called to Eb once, just for the companionship of a human voice; but I thought again how foolish that would be, and turned to my coffee. The coffee was good and warm, and with two or three mouth- fuls of that inside me I began to feel better. And yet I looked up the companionway to the sky again — and I simply couldn't get over it, such a super- naturally quiet night it was! "And all at once, while I was looking up— I never knew why, certainly I didn't intend to — I set down my cup of coffee, and I found myself trying to catch my breath ; which couldn't have been for any lack of air — there was plenty of air, the companion slides drawn far back — but my lungs seemed not to want it. It didn't smell right to me, that air — it really didn't. 'Twas like some- thing decaying. And, trying to pick up the mug of coffee again, my fingers felt numb. I grew scared, I did. *What in God's name is the matter?' I heard myself saying, but not like 85 The Illimitable Senses myself, either — much as though it was somebody else talking. *But I will pick it up/ I said, like somebody was daring me to do it, and grabbed the mug of coffee suddenly, as though I was afraid somebody would really stop me. And I got it, too, but my fingers barely on the handle when such a shriek ! Just one shriek. There wasn't any notion to compare it to anything then, but Fve often thought since that if 'twas a lost soul being dragged over the brink of hell I'd expect he'd shriek like that. "One breath before, and I thought nothing short of a call to judgment could have waked that crew for'ard; but with that cry from above every man of them leaped from his bunk. None of 'em needed more than boots and trousers to be dressed, but some, not even waiting for that, rushed on deck to see what it was. Eb's berth was on the starb'd side, just for'ard of the fore-rigging; and there we found him, stretched full length beside the rail, his feet to the cleat under the pin-rail and his head almost against the drumhead of the windlass. And that wasn't all. His line was cut clean off at the rail; not broke off, nor bit off, but cut clean off as with a knife. Said somebody, 'He must have cut it himself,' and we looked for his knife, and couldn't find it. And then I remembered Eb couldn't have had a knife on deck — he'd asked 86 The Illimitable Senses me to get his from his bunk when I dropped below for a mug-up. And, sure enough, under the mattress in Eb's bunk we found it, where he always kept it when he wasn't fishing; and nobody else's knife was missing from its place. "We looked out to sea then, and there wasn't a thing there — no craft, no light, no sail, no floating thing of any kind ; and 'twas the kind of a night, too, to see far, but nothing there; only the awful quiet and the drifting bits of clouds across the sky, and the little shadows they threw on the sea, which was itself so smooth that not even the play of the everlasting tides was rippling the surface of it. "We carried him below, stiff and motionless, and laid him on the cabin floor. We called to him ; and before his eyes, wide open and staring up to the roof of the cabin, we waved things, even the tin-type of his girl we took from the shelf in his bunk. But not the smallest twist of his Hps, nor quiver of his eyelids, to show that he heard or saw. "There was nothing to it but put for home. So we up-anchor; and I mind how mournful sounded the clinking of the chain through the hawse-hole, and winching in, there were men on that vessel who dreaded standing on the side of the windlass where Eb's body had lain. Arrived in Gloucester 87 The Illimitable Senses harbor, we carried Eb to the house of his only brother, and there we laid him on the lounge in the parlor. And an awful duty that — bearing a dead man in from sea." "But was he dead then, Skipper? I always heard " "Well, as to that, he was dead, and yet he wasn't dead. He lay there stiff and stark, with never a word or moan, and the doctor came; and another doctor came; and another doctor came, but none of 'em could say what was the matter with poor Eb. And seven nights from the night he was struck down the last flutterings of his heart stopped entirely." Tick, tick, tick, went the cabin clock. Tick, tick, insistently, until it gained the skipper's at- tention. "Aye, I 'most forgot her," said the skipper, and stood up to have a look. "She'll be a few seconds fast, I'm thinking," and compared it with the superb little chronometer that set in a polished cedar case in his room. "But only a few seconds — gains maybe four seconds a day. Pretty good that, when you allow for the pitching of the vessel and where it has to hang. But it was always a great little clock that," and [this last he almost whispered. "'Most nine o'clock already." Carefully he replaced the chronom- 88 The Illimitable Senses eter, and presently closed the stateroom door I behind him. The passenger turned from the blank door to old Bob. "Surely he's not turning in .?" "'Sh— !" warned old Bob. And silence held the cabin again, till the door was slid back, and the skipper, resuming his chair and leaning forward, fastened his gaze on the hot coals in the stove. "But, Captain" — the passenger was consumed with curiosity — "during that seven days and nights, didn't Eb Stone ever come to sufficiently to offer a word of explanation, any word or sign to throw a little light on the matter ?" At sound of the passenger's voice the skipper came out of his reverie. Tightly he closed his eyes, as if to shut out the pictures in the fire, and over them pressed his tense finger-tips. " Eb ? Never a word. He died without speaking." "But didn't the doctors have anything to say ?" "What could they .f* They wanted to cut poor Eb open, but Eb's brother wouldn't stand for it. *No,' he said, 'it's something more than doctors can explain,' and had him buried without an autopsy." "And what did you think yourself. Captain?" "Think? Well, 'twould take a long time to say, but I know what I did, and what effect it 89 The Illimitable Senses had on me. From the day of his burial I made up my mind never again to cast ridicule on things that other people venerated, simply because I didn't wholly believe in them. I began to see that there might be things in the universe that my brain was unequal to grasping. And " The passenger was about to offer a theory, but the skipper raised a protesting hand. "Wait a bit with your scientists. And adhering to that, I came to be a better man. And from being a better man I came to have the courage to marry a girl that Fd almost begun to think was never to be for me; and, marrying her, life began to take on new aspects. It was no longer hard and gray, though 'twas terrible enough at times — mostly through fear for her. For one thing, she had not exactly a dread of the sea, but a dread of what it might do to me — in winter-time especially. You see, she was the kind that knew — whether I was near her or away from her didn't matter — she knew when danger threatened me. She'd wake out of her sleep at night — many's the time she's told me, and the children have heard her too — and cry out my name and pray to God to save me. And when next I'd get home, after I was quiet and calm under the home influence, and no distress to hear it, she'd tell me, and, coming to look into it, sure enough I'd find that on the night or day, at go The Illimitable Senses the time she said, myself or the vessel was in more or less danger. Sometimes I had to strain my memory to find grounds for her alarm, but there'd nearly always be something, maybe some little thing, that any man would forget two minutes after it happened, but yet a terrible matter 'twould be to a timid and loving woman ashore." ^^ ^Nearly always,^ you said. Captain ?" "Nearly always, that's right. There were rimes when I couldn't discover the least ground for her fright; occasionally, on coming home from the calmest trips imaginable, she'd have her fears to tell. And when I'd laugh at her then, she'd only say 'twas there just the same. *You don't know what might have been threatening you in the dark and you not able to see it,' she'd say. "Well, in the course of time I got to be a different man. No man could've been married to my wife long and not be; and I got to appreciate her, and coming home from sea and meeting her again got to be what I lived for. I came, too, to believe in the mysterious power she had of knowing how things had gone with me. Even when there'd been no particular danger, she'd know whether I'd had a hard trip or a pleasant one; but saying nothing of it at the moment, she'd meet me at the door with just the word to suit my feelings, though, 91 The Illimitable Senses again, as I said, never any long speeches till Fd been made comfortable generally. "At last it came to what I want to tell you about. I'd got a fine little chronometer for taking some people off a wreck, and by and by I took some off another dismasted vessel — at great peril, as the resolutions went with 'em said, though 'twas just an ordinary sea running at the time. But, any- way, I got another chronometer, both the same winter. And my wife says I must give her one and keep one on the vessel. Which I did. There in my room, now, is mine — you saw me go to it a while ago. By it I take care to set the cabin clock every few days, and after every trip I take it ashore and compare it with my wife's at home; and if they don't agree have them corrected. But they need but small correction. They are both good chronometers — sometimes those rescue ones are that way — and these two'll almost tick for tick for months together. Which is just what my wife wants ; for every night, exactly at nine o'clock, she has the older children kneeling by their bedsides and saying a prayer for me. She prays with them. And I've got to where I say a prayer myself aboard the vessel at the same hour, if the weather'll allow. And there's where the chronometer comes into the story. You all know of the last gale out here on Georges. Of course. Fourteen vessels and one 92 The Illimitable Senses hundred and sixty-five men lost that night. Every third man and vessel of the hand-lining fleet went down inside twenty-four hours. We were in that gale — this same vessel, and no par- ticular praise to me or the crew — and a fine crew, too — that ourselves and vessel came out of it safe. And how was that ^ Fll tell you. "A wicked night it was, and we trying to buck our way off the Bank. Wind ? Lord knows, maybe ninety or a hundred miles an hour 'twas blowing. Frightful — ^yes. Under a two-reefed fores'l we were, and that was plenty. Black as hell, and seas to your masthead. All around us we could hear the calls of men in peril, with their voices, when sometimes they'd rise above the wind, like the cries of ghosts in the night. Suddenly comes a bolt of thunder and a flash of Hghtning, so bright and sudden as to bhnd us almost, and in the glare of it we saw the other two vessels. It was like seeing when you're being photographed in a flash-light group at night — the sudden report and glare, and the other people being seen suddenly — and then darkness again, with a ringing in your ears, and you trying to keep your eyes from blink- ing after it. 'Twas that flash of light saved us. There were three vessels of us about to come to- gether, and you know what happens to vessels that come together on Georges in a gale. We saw 93 The Illimitable Senses them, just time to shift the wheel and to scrape by, the Smuggler to one side and the Barmecides the other. Man, but 'twas close! " But more wonderful than the flash of lightning or our being saved and the two other vessels be- ing lost — which they were — we could hear them grinding together and their calls in the dark — and, worst of it all, we couldn't help, and they went, God rest 'em! But the wonderful thing — just at the time of the flash, which we easily fixed by the cabin clock — old Bob there was to be relieved at the wheel on the hour, and the new man on watch had just looked at the clock, that same clock which I then as well as now kept to exact time with the chronometers, he'd just taken a peep and said, 'Less than a minute now,' and had drawn on his mitts and had one foot on the companionway steps there to go on deck, when the flash came. Well, ashore, as it happened, which it doesn't always, it was bad weather that same night, too, and my wife was feeling worried, but not worrying enough to make any fuss over, for she knew that it might be bad weather in Gloucester and good weather on Georges. The children were sitting around read- ing or playing — she was nursing the baby — when all at once she set the baby down and got the children together, she didn't know why, and all in a moment. * Children,' she said, 'Anna, Jack, 94 The Illimitable Senses Tom, Irene — on your knees, quick! and pray for your father " "