The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 19

by Robert Louis Stevenson

  CHAPTER V

  THE CARGO OF CHAMPAGNE

  The ship's head was laid to clear Eimeo to the north, and the captainsat down in the cabin, with a chart, a ruler, and an epitome.

  "East a half no'the," said he, raising his face from his labours. "Mr.Hay, you'll have to watch your dead reckoning; I want every yard shemakes on every hair's-breadth of a course. I'm going to knock a holeright straight through the Paumotus, and that's always a near touch.Now, if this South East Trade ever blew out of the S.E., which it don't,we might hope to lie within half a point of our course. Say we liewithin a point of it. That'll just about weather Fakarava. Yes, sir,that's what we've got to do, if we tack for it. Brings us through thisslush of little islands in the cleanest place: see?" And he showed wherehis ruler intersected the wide-lying labyrinth of the DangerousArchipelago. "I wish it was night, and I could put her about right now;we're losing time and easting. Well, we'll do our best. And if we don'tfetch Peru, we'll bring up to Ecuador. All one, I guess. Depreciateddollars down, and no questions asked. A remarkable fine institootion,the South American don."

  Tahiti was already some way astern, the Diadem rising from among brokenmountains--Eimeo was already close aboard, and stood black and strangeagainst the golden splendour of the west--when the captain took hisdeparture from the two islands, and the patent log was set.

  Some twenty minutes later, Sally Day, who was continually leaving thewheel to peer in at the cabin clock, announced in a shrill cry "Fo'bell," and the cook was to be seen carrying the soup into the cabin.

  "I guess I'll sit down and have a pick with you," said Davis to Herrick."By the time I've done it'll be dark, and we'll clap the hooker on thewind for South America."

  In the cabin at one corner of the table, immediately below the lamp, andon the lee side of a bottle of champagne, sat Huish.

  "What's this? Where did that come from?" asked the captain.

  "It's fizz, and it came from the after-'old, if you want to know," saidHuish, and drained his mug.

  "This'll never do," exclaimed Davis, the merchant seaman's horror ofbreaking into cargo showing incongruously forth on board that stolenship. "There was never any good came of games like that."

  "You byby!" said Huish. "A fellow would think (to 'ear him) we were onthe square! And look 'ere, you've put this job up 'ansomely for me,'aven't you? I'm to go on deck and steer, while you two sit and guzzle,and I'm to go by a nickname, and got to call you 'sir' and 'mister.'Well, you look here, my bloke: I'll have fizz _ad lib._, or it won'twash. I tell you that. And you know mighty well, you ain't got anyman-of-war to signal now."

  Davis was staggered. "I'd give fifty dollars this had never happened,"he said weakly.

  "Well, it _'as_ 'appened, you see," returned Huish. "Try some; it'sdevilish good."

  The Rubicon was crossed without another struggle. The captain filled amug and drank.

  "I wish it was beer," he said with a sigh. "But there's no denying it'sthe genuine stuff and cheap at the money. Now, Huish, you clear out andtake your wheel."

  The little wretch had gained a point, and he was gay. "Ay, ay, sir,"said he, and left the others to their meal.

  "Pea-soup!" exclaimed the captain. "Blamed if I thought I should tastepea-soup again!"

  Herrick sat inert and silent. It was impossible after these months ofhopeless want to smell the rough, high-spiced sea victuals without lust,and his mouth watered with desire of the champagne. It was no lessimpossible to have assisted at the scene between Huish and the captain,and not to perceive, with sudden bluntness, the gulf where he hadfallen. He was a thief among thieves. He said it to himself. He couldnot touch the soup. If he had moved at all, it must have been to leavethe table, throw himself overboard, and drown--an honest man.

  "Here," said the captain, "you look sick, old man; have a drop of this."

  The champagne creamed and bubbled in the mug; its bright colour, itslively effervescence, seized his eye. "It is too late to hesitate," hethought; his hand took the mug instinctively; he drank, withunquenchable pleasure and desire of more; drained the vessel dry, andset it down with sparkling eyes.

  "There is something in life after all!" he cried. "I had forgot what itwas like. Yes, even this is worth while. Wine, food, dry clothes--why,they're worth dying, worth hanging for! Captain, tell me one thing: whyaren't all the poor folk foot-pads?"

  "Give it up," said the captain.

  "They must be damned good," cried Herrick. "There's something herebeyond me. Think of that calaboose! Suppose we were sent suddenly back."He shuddered as stung by a convulsion, and buried his face in hisclutching hands.

  "Here, what's wrong with you?" cried the captain. There was no reply;only Herrick's shoulders heaved, so that the table was shaken. "Takesome more of this. Here, drink this. I order you to. Don't start cryingwhen you're out of the wood."

  "I'm not crying," said Herrick, raising his face and showing his dryeyes. "It's worse than crying. It's the horror of that grave that we'veescaped from."

  "Come now, you tackle your soup; that'll fix you," said Davis kindly. "Itold you you were all broken up. You couldn't have stood out anotherweek."

  "That's the dreadful part of it!" cried Herrick. "Another week and I'dhave murdered some one for a dollar! God! and I know that? And I'm stillliving? It's some beastly dream."

  "Quietly, quietly! Quietly does it, my son. Take your pea-soup. Food,that's what you want," said Davis.

  The soup strengthened and quieted Herrick's nerves; another glass ofwine, and a piece of pickled pork and fried banana completed what thesoup began; and he was able once more to look the captain in the face.

  "I didn't know I was so much run down," he said.

  "Well," said Davis, "you were as steady as a rock all day: now you'vehad a little lunch, you'll be as steady as a rock again."

  "Yes," was the reply, "I'm steady enough now, but I'm a queer kind of afirst officer."

  "Shucks!" cried the captain. "You've only got to mind the ship's course,and keep your slate to half a point. A babby could do that, let alone acollege graduate like you. There ain't nothing _to_ sailoring, when youcome to look it in the face. And now we'll go and put her about. Bringthe slate; we'll have to start our dead reckoning right away."

  The distance run since the departure was read off the log by thebinnacle light and entered on the slate.

  "Ready about," said the captain. "Give me the wheel, White Man, and youstand by the mainsheet. Boom tackle, Mr. Hay, please, and then you canjump forward and attend head sails."

  "Ay, ay, sir," responded Herrick.

  "All clear forward?" asked Davis.

  "All clear, sir."

  "Hard a-lee!" cried the captain. "Haul in your slack as she comes," hecalled to Huish. "Haul in your slack, put your back into it; keep yourfeet out of the coils." A sudden blow sent Huish flat along the deck,and the captain was in his place. "Pick yourself up and keep the wheelhard over!" he roared. "You wooden fool, you wanted to get killed, Iguess. Draw the jib," he cried a moment later; and then to Huish, "Giveme the wheel again, and see if you can coil that sheet."

  But Huish stood and looked at Davis with an evil countenance. "Do youknow you struck me?" said he.

  "Do you know I saved your life?" returned the other, not deigning tolook at him, his eyes travelling instead between the compass and thesails. "Where would you have been if that boom had swung out and youbundled in the slack? No, _sir_, we'll have no more of you at themainsheet. Seaport towns are full of mainsheet-men; they hop upon oneleg, my son, what's left of them, and the rest are dead. (Set your boomtackle, Mr. Hay.) Struck you, did I? Lucky for you I did."

  "Well," said Huish slowly, "I dessay there may be somethink in that.'Ope there is." He turned his back elaborately on the captain, andentered the house, where the speedy explosion of a champagne cork showedhe was attending to his comfort.

  Herrick came aft to the captain. "How is she doing now?" he asked.

  "East and by no'the a half no'the," said Davis. "It
's about as good as Iexpected."

  "What'll the hands think of it?" said Herrick.

  "O, they don't think. They ain't paid to," says the captain.

  "There was something wrong, was there not? between you and--" Herrickpaused.

  "That's a nasty little beast; that's a biter," replied the captain,shaking his head. "But so long as you and me hang in, it don't matter."

  Herrick lay down in the weather alleyway; the night was cloudless, themovement of the ship cradled him, he was oppressed besides by the firstgenerous meal after so long a time of famine; and he was recalled fromdeep sleep by the voice of Davis singing out: "Eight bells!"

  He rose stupidly and staggered aft, where the captain gave him thewheel.

  "By the wind," said the captain. "It comes a little puffy; when you geta heavy puff, steal all you can to windward, but keep her a good full."

  He stepped towards the house, paused and hailed the forecastle.

  "Got such a thing as a concertina forward?" said he. "Bully for you,Uncle Ned. Fetch it aft, will you?"

  The schooner steered very easy; and Herrick, watching the moon-whitenedsails, was overpowered by drowsiness. A sharp report from the cabinstartled him; a third bottle had been opened; and Herrick remembered the_Sea Ranger_ and Fourteen Island Group. Presently the notes of theaccordion sounded, and then the captain's voice:

  "O honey, with our pockets full of money, We will trip, trip, trip, we will trip it on the quay, And I will dance with Kate, and Tom will dance with Sall, When we're all back from South Amerikee."

  So it went to its quaint air; and the watch below lingered and listenedby the forward door, and Uncle Ned was to be seen in the moonlightnodding time; and Herrick smiled at the wheel, his anxieties a whileforgotten. Song followed song; another cork exploded; there were voicesraised, as though the pair in the cabin were in disagreement: andpresently it seemed the breach was healed; for it was now the voice ofHuish that struck up, to the captain's accompaniment:--

  "Up in a balloon, boys, Up in a balloon, All among the little stars And round about the moon."

  A wave of nausea overcame Herrick at the wheel. He wondered why the air,the words (which were yet written with a certain knack), and the voiceand accent of the singer, should all jar his spirit like a file on aman's teeth. He sickened at the thought of his two comrades drinkingaway their reason upon stolen wine, quarrelling and hiccupping andwaking up, while the doors of a prison yawned for them in the nearfuture. "Shall I have sold my honour for nothing?" he thought; and aheat of rage and resolution glowed in his bosom--rage against hiscomrades--resolution to carry through this business if it might becarried; pluck profit out of shame, since the shame at least was nowinevitable; and come home, home from South America--how did the songgo?--"with his pockets full of money."

  "O honey, with our pockets full of money, We will trip, trip, trip, we will trip it on the quay":

  so the words ran in his head; and the honey took on visible form, thequay rose before him and he knew it for the lamp-lit Embankment, and hesaw the lights of Battersea bridge bestride the sullen river. Allthrough the remainder of his trick he stood entranced, reviewing thepast. He had been always true to his love, but not always sedulous torecall her. In the growing calamity of his life, she had swum moredistant, like the moon in mist. The letter of farewell, thedishonourable hope that had surprised and corrupted him in his distress,the changed scene, the sea, the night and the music--all stirred him tothe roots of manhood. "I _will_ win her," he thought, and ground histeeth. "Fair or foul, what matters if I win her?"

  "Fo' bell, matey. I think um fo' bell"--he was suddenly recalled bythese words in the voice of Uncle Ned.

  "Look in at the clock, Uncle," said he. He would not look himself, fromhorror of the tipplers.

  "Him past, matey," repeated the Hawaiian.

  "So much the better for you, Uncle," he replied; and he gave up thewheel, repeating the directions as he had received them.

  He took two steps forward and remembered his dead reckoning. "How hasshe been heading?" he thought; and he flushed from head to foot. He hadnot observed or had forgotten; here was the old incompetence; the slatemust be filled up by guess. "Never again!" he vowed to himself in silentfury, "never again. It shall be no fault of mine if this miscarry." Andfor the remainder of his watch he stood close by Uncle Ned, and read theface of the compass as perhaps he had never read a letter from hissweetheart.

  All the time, and spurring him to the more attention, song, loud talk,fleering laughter, and the occasional popping of a cork, reached hisears from the interior of the house; and when the port watch wasrelieved at midnight, Huish and the captain appeared upon thequarter-deck with flushed faces and uneven steps, the former laden withbottles, the latter with two tin mugs. Herrick silently passed them by.They hailed him in thick voices, he made no answer; they cursed him fora churl, he paid no heed although his belly quivered with disgust andrage. He closed-to the door of the house behind him, and cast himself ona locker in the cabin--not to sleep, he thought--rather to think and todespair. Yet he had scarce turned twice on his uneasy bed, before adrunken voice hailed him in the ear, and he must go on deck again tostand the morning watch.

  The first evening set the model for those that were to follow. Two casesof champagne scarce lasted the four-and-twenty hours, and almost thewhole was drunk by Huish and the captain. Huish seemed to thrive on theexcess; he was never sober, yet never wholly tipsy; the food and the seaair had soon healed him of his disease, and he began to lay on flesh.But with Davis things went worse. In the drooping, unbuttoned figurethat sprawled all day upon the lockers, tippling and reading novels; inthe fool who made of the evening watch a public carouse on thequarter-deck, it would have been hard to recognise the vigorous seamanof Papeete roads. He kept himself reasonably well in hand till he hadtaken the sun and yawned and blotted through his calculations; but fromthe moment he rolled up the chart, his hours were passed in slavishself-indulgence or in hoggish slumber. Every other branch of his dutywas neglected, except maintaining a stern discipline about thedinner-table. Again and again Herrick would hear the cook called aft,and see him running with fresh tins, or carrying away again a meal thathad been totally condemned. And the more the captain became sunk indrunkenness, the more delicate his palate showed itself. Once, in theforenoon, he had a bo'sun's chair rigged over the rail, stripped to histrousers, and went overboard with a pot of paint. "I don't like the waythis schooner's painted," said he, "and I've taken a down upon hername." But he tired of it in half an hour, and the schooner went on herway with an incongruous patch of colour on the stern, and the word_Farallone_ part obliterated and part looking through. He refused tostand either the middle or morning watch. It was fine-weather sailing,he said; and asked, with a laugh, "Who ever heard of the old manstanding watch himself?" To the dead reckoning which Herrick still triedto keep, he would pay not the least attention nor afford the leastassistance.

  "What do we want of dead reckoning?" he asked. "We get the sun allright, don't we?"

  "We mayn't get it always, though," objected Herrick. "And you told meyourself you weren't sure of the chronometer."

  "O, there ain't no flies in the chronometer!" cried Davis.

  "Oblige me so far, captain," said Herrick stiffly. "I am anxious to keepthis reckoning, which is a part of my duty; I do not know what to allowfor current, nor how to allow for it. I am too inexperienced; and I begof you to help me."

  "Never discourage zealous officer," said the captain, unrolling thechart again, for Herrick had taken him over his day's work, and whilehe was still partly sober. "Here it is: look for yourself; anything fromwest to west no'thewest, and anyways from five to twenty-five miles.That's what the A'm'ralty chart says; I guess you don't expect to get onahead of your own Britishers?"

  "I am trying to do my duty, Captain Brown," said Herrick, with a darkflush, "and I have the honour to inform you that I don't enjoy beingtrifled with."

  "What in thunder do you
want?" roared Davis. "Go and look at the blamedwake. If you're trying to do your duty, why don't you go and do it? Iguess it's no business of mine to go and stick my head over the ship'srump? I guess it's yours. And I'll tell you what it is, my fine fellow,I'll trouble you not to come the dude over me. You're insolent, that'swhat's wrong with you. Don't you crowd me, Mr. Herrick, Esquire."

  Herrick tore up his papers, threw them on the floor, and left the cabin.

  "He's turned a bloomin' swot, ain't he?" sneered Huish.

  "He thinks himself too good for his company, that's what ails Herrick,Esquire," raged the captain. "He thinks I don't understand when he comesthe heavy swell. Won't sit down with us, won't he? won't say a civilword? I'll serve the son of a gun as he deserves. By God, Huish, I'llshow him whether he's too good for John Davis!"

  "Easy with the names, cap'," said Huish, who was always the more sober."Easy over the stones, my boy!"

  "All right, I will. You're a good sort, Huish. I didn't take to you atfirst, but I guess you're right enough. Let's open another bottle," saidthe captain; and that day, perhaps because he was excited by thequarrel, he drank more recklessly, and by four o'clock was stretchedinsensible upon the locker.

  Herrick and Huish supped alone, one after the other, opposite hisflushed and snorting body. And if the sight killed Herrick's hunger,the isolation weighed so heavily on the clerk's spirit that he wasscarce risen from table ere he was currying favour with his formercomrade.

  Herrick was at the wheel when he approached, and Huish leanedconfidentially across the binnacle.

  "I say, old chappie," he said, "you and me don't seem to be such palssomehow."

  Herrick gave her a spoke or two in silence; his eye, as it skirted fromthe needle to the luff of the foresail, passed the man by withoutspeculation. But Huish was really dull, a thing he could support withdifficulty, having no resources of his own. The idea of a private talkwith Herrick, at this stage of their relations, held out particularinducements to a person of his character. Drink besides, as it renderssome men hyper-sensitive, made Huish callous. And it would almost haverequired a blow to make him quit his purpose.

  "Pretty business, ain't it?" he continued; "Dyvis on the lush? Must sayI thought you gave it 'im A1 to-day. He didn't like it a bit; took onhawful after you were gone.--' 'Ere,' says I, ''old on, easy on thelush,' I says. ''Errick was right and you know it. Give 'im a chanst,' Isays.--' 'Uish,' sezee, 'don't you gimme no more of your jaw, or I'llknock your bloomin' eyes out.' Well, wot can I do, 'Errick? But I tellyou, I don't 'arf like it. It looks to me like the _Sea Rynger_ overagain."

  Still Herrick was silent.

  "Do you 'ear me speak?" asked Huish sharply. "You're pleasant, ain'tyou?"

  "Stand away from that binnacle," said Herrick.

  The clerk looked at him long and straight and black; his figure seemedto writhe like that of a snake about to strike; then he turned on hisheel, went back to the cabin and opened a bottle of champagne. Wheneight bells were cried he slept on the floor beside the captain on thelocker; and of the whole starboard watch only Sally Day appeared uponthe summons. The mate proposed to stand the watch with him, and letUncle Ned lie down; it would make twelve hours on deck, and probablysixteen, but in this fair-weather sailing he might safely sleep betweenhis tricks of wheel, leaving orders to be called on any sign of squalls.So far he could trust the men, between whom and himself a close relationhad sprung up. With Uncle Ned he held long nocturnal conversations, andthe old man told him his simple and hard story of exile, suffering, andinjustice among cruel whites. The cook, when he found Herrick messedalone, produced for him unexpected and sometimes unpalatable dainties,of which he forced himself to eat. And one day, when he was forward, hewas surprised to feel a caressing hand run down his shoulder, and tohear the voice of Sally Day crooning in his ear: "You gootch man!" Heturned, and, choking down a sob, shook hands with the negrito. They werekindly, cheery, childish souls. Upon the Sunday each brought forth hisseparate Bible--for they were all men of alien speech, even to eachother, and Sally Day communicated with his mates in English only; eachread or made-believe to read his chapter, Uncle Ned with spectacles onhis nose; and they would all join together in the singing of missionaryhymns. It was thus a cutting reproof to compare the islanders and thewhites aboard the _Farallone_. Shame ran in Herrick's blood to rememberwhat employment he was on, and to see these poor souls--and even SallyDay, the child of cannibals, in all likelihood a cannibal himself--sofaithful to what they knew of good. The fact that he was held ingrateful favour by these innocents served like blinders to hisconscience, and there were times when he was inclined, with Sally Day,to call himself a good man. But the height of his favour was only now toappear. With one voice, the crew protested; ere Herrick knew what theywere doing, the cook was aroused and came a willing volunteer; all handsclustered about their mate with expostulations and caresses; and he wasbidden to lie down and take his customary rest without alarm.

  "He tell you tlue," said Uncle Ned. "You sleep. Evely man hea he do alllight. Evely man he like you too much."

  Herrick struggled, and gave way; choked upon some trivial words ofgratitude; and walked to the side of the house, against which he leaned,struggling with emotion.

  Uncle Ned presently followed him and begged him to lie down.

  "It's no use, Uncle Ned," he replied. "I couldn't sleep. I'm knockedover with all your goodness."

  "Ah, no call me Uncle Ned no mo'!" cried the old man. "No my name! Myname Taveeta, all-e-same Taveeta King of Islael. Wat for he call thatHawaii? I think no savvy nothing--all-e-same Wise-a-mana."

  It was the first time the name of the late captain had been mentioned,and Herrick grasped the occasion. The reader shall be spared Uncle Ned'sunwieldy dialect, and learn in less embarrassing English the sum of whathe now communicated. The ship had scarce cleared the Golden Gates beforethe captain and mate had entered on a career of drunkenness, which wasscarcely interrupted by their malady and only closed by death. For daysand weeks they had encountered neither land nor ship; and seeingthemselves lost on the huge deep with their insane conductors, thenatives had drunk deep of terror.

  At length they made a low island and went in; and Wiseman and Wishartlanded in the boat.

  There was a great village, a very fine village, and plenty Kanakas inthat place; but all mighty serious; and from every here and there in theback parts of the settlement, Taveeta heard the sounds of islandlamentation. "I no savvy _talk_ that island," said he. "I savvy hear um_cly_. I think, Hum! too many people die here!" But upon Wiseman andWishart the significance of that barbaric keening was lost. Full ofbread and drink, they rollicked along unconcerned, embraced the girls,who had scarce energy to repel them, took up and joined (with drunkenvoices) in the death-wail, and at last (on what they took to be aninvitation) entered under the roof of a house in which was aconsiderable concourse of people sitting silent. They stooped below theeaves, flushed and laughing; within a minute they came forth again withchanged faces and silent tongues; and as the press severed to make wayfor them, Taveeta was able to perceive, in the deep shadow of the house,the sick man raising from his mat a head already defeatured by disease.The two tragic triflers fled without hesitation for their boat,screaming on Taveeta to make haste; they came aboard with all speed ofoars, raised anchor and crowded sail upon the ship with blows andcurses, and were at sea again--and again drunk--before sunset. A weekafter, and the last of the two had been committed to the deep. Herrickasked Taveeta where that island was, and he replied that, by what hegathered of folks' talk as they went up together from the beach, hesupposed it must be one of the Paumotus. This was in itself probableenough, for the Dangerous Archipelago had been swept that year from eastto west by devastating small-pox; but Herrick thought it a strangecourse to lie from Sydney. Then he remembered the drink.

  "Were they not surprised when they made the island?" he asked.

  "Wise-a-mana he say, 'damn! what this?'" was the reply.

  "O, that's it, then," said Herr
ick. "I don't believe they knew wherethey were."

  "I think so too," said Uncle Ned. "I think no savvy. This one mo'betta," he added, pointing to the house, where the drunken captainslumbered: "Take-a-sun all-e-time."

  The implied last touch completed Herrick's picture of the life and deathof his two predecessors; of their prolonged, sordid, sodden sensualityas they sailed, they knew not whither, on their last cruise. He held buta twinkling and unsure belief in any future state; the thought of one ofpunishment he derided; yet for him (as for all) there dwelt a horrorabout the end of the brutish man. Sickness fell upon him at the imagethus called up; and when he compared it with the scene in which hehimself was acting, and considered the doom that seemed to brood uponthe schooner, a horror that was almost superstitious fell upon him. Andyet the strange thing was, he did not falter. He who had proved hisincapacity in so many fields, being now falsely placed amid duties whichhe did not understand, without help, and it might be said withoutcountenance, had hitherto surpassed expectation; and even the shamefulmisconduct and shocking disclosures of that night seemed but to nerveand strengthen him. He had sold his honour; he vowed it should not be invain; "it shall be no fault of mine if this miscarry," he repeated. Andin his heart he wondered at himself. Living rage no doubt supported him;no doubt also, the sense of the last cast, of the ships burned, of alldoors closed but one, which is so strong a tonic to the merely weak, andso deadly a depressent to the merely cowardly.

  For some time the voyage went otherwise well. They weathered Fakaravawith one board; and the wind holding well to the southward, and blowingfresh, they passed between Ranaka and Ratiu, and ran some daysnorth-east by east-half-east under the lee of Takume and Honden, neitherof which they made. In about 14 deg. south, and between 134 deg. and135 deg. west, it fell a dead calm, with rather a heavy sea. The captainrefused to take in sail, the helm was lashed, no watch was set, and the_Farallone_ rolled and banged for three days, according to observation,in almost the same place. The fourth morning, a little before day, abreeze sprang up and rapidly freshened. The captain had drunk hard thenight before; he was far from sober when he was roused; and when he cameon deck for the first time at half-past eight, it was plain he hadalready drunk deep again at breakfast. Herrick avoided his eye; andresigned the deck with indignation to a man more than half-seas-over.

  By the loud commands of the captain and the singing out of fellows atthe ropes, he could judge from the house that sail was being crowded onthe ship; relinquished his half-eaten breakfast; and came on deckagain, to find the main and the jib topsails set, and both watches andthe cook turned out to hand the staysail. The _Farallone_ lay alreadyfar over; the sky was obscured with misty scud; and from the windward anominous squall came flying up, broadening and blackening as it rose.

  Fear thrilled in Herrick's vitals. He saw death hard by; and if notdeath, sure ruin. For if the _Farallone_ lived through the comingsquall, she must surely be dismasted. With that their enterprise was atan end, and they themselves bound prisoners to the very evidence oftheir crime. The greatness of the peril and his own alarm sufficed tosilence him. Pride, wrath, and shame raged without issue in his mind;and he shut his teeth and folded his arms close.

  The captain sat in the boat to windward, bellowing orders and insults,his eyes glazed, his face deeply congested; a bottle set between hisknees, a glass in his hand half empty. His back was to the squall, andhe was at first intent upon the setting of the sail. When that was done,and the great trapezium of canvas had begun to draw and to trail thelee-rail of the _Farallone_ level with the foam, he laughed out an emptylaugh, drained his glass, sprawled back among the lumber in the boat,and fetched out a crumpled novel.

  Herrick watched him, and his indignation glowed red-hot. He glanced towindward where the squall already whitened the near sea and heralded itscoming with a singular and dismal sound. He glanced at the steersman,and saw him clinging to the spokes with a face of a sickly blue. He sawthe crew were running to their stations without orders. And it seemed asif something broke in his brain; and the passion of anger, so longrestrained, so long eaten in secret, burst suddenly loose and shook himlike a sail. He stepped across to the captain, and smote his handheavily on the drunkard's shoulder.

  "You brute," he said, in a voice that tottered, "look behind you!"

  "Wha's that?" cried Davis, bounding in the boat and upsetting thechampagne.

  "You lost the _Sea Ranger_ because you were a drunken sot," saidHerrick. "Now you're going to lose the _Farallone_. You're going todrown here the same way as you drowned others, and be damned. And yourdaughter shall walk the streets, and your sons be thieves like theirfather."

  For the moment the words struck the captain white and foolish. "My God!"he cried, looking at Herrick as upon a ghost; "my God, Herrick!"

  "Look behind you, then!" reiterated the assailant.

  The wretched man, already partly sobered, did as he was told, and in thesame breath of time leaped to his feet. "Down staysail!" he trumpeted.The hands were thrilling for the order, and the great sail came with arun, and fell half overboard among the racing foam. "Jib top-sailhalyards! Let the stays'l be," he said again.

  But before it was well uttered, the squall shouted aloud and fell, in asolid mass of wind and rain commingled, on the _Farallone_; and shestooped under the blow, and lay like a thing dead. From the mind ofHerrick reason fled; he clung in the weather rigging, exulting; he wasdone with life, and he gloried in the release; he gloried in the wildnoises of the wind and the choking onslaught of the rain; he gloried todie so, and now, amid this coil of the elements. And meanwhile, in thewaist, up to his knees in water--so low the schooner lay--the captainwas hacking at the fore-sheet with a pocket-knife. It was a question ofseconds, for the _Farallone_ drank deep of the encroaching seas. But thehand of the captain had the advance; the foresail boom tore apart thelast strands of the sheet and crashed to lee-ward; the _Farallone_leaped up into the wind and righted; and the peak and throat halyards,which had long been let go, began to run at the same instant.

  For some ten minutes more she careered under the impulse of the squall;but the captain was now master of himself and of his ship, and alldanger at an end. And then, sudden as a trick-change upon the stage,the squall blew by, the wind dropped into light airs, the sun beamedforth again upon the tattered schooner; and the captain, having securedthe foresail boom and set a couple of hands to the pump, walked aft,sober, a little pale, and with the sodden end of a cigar still stuckbetween his teeth even as the squall had found it. Herrick followed him;he could scarce recall the violence of his late emotions, but he feltthere was a scene to go through, and he was anxious and even eager to gothrough with it.

  The captain, turning at the house-end, met him face to face, and avertedhis eyes. "We've lost the two tops'ls, and the stays'l," he gabbled."Good business we didn't lose any sticks. I guess you think we're allthe better without the kites."

  "That's not what I'm thinking," said Herrick, in a voice strangelyquiet, that yet echoed confusion in the captain's mind.

  "I know that," he cried, holding up his hand. "I know what you'rethinking. No use to say it now. I'm sober."

  "I have to say it, though," returned Herrick.

  "Hold on, Herrick; you've said enough," said Davis. "You've said what Iwould take from no man breathing but yourself; only I know it's true."

  "I have to tell you, Captain Brown," pursued Herrick, "that I resign myposition as mate. You can put me in irons or shoot me, as you please; Iwill make no resistance--only, I decline in any way to help or to obeyyou; and I suggest you should put Mr. Huish in my place. He will make aworthy first officer to your captain, sir." He smiled, bowed, and turnedto walk forward.

  "Where are you going, Herrick?" cried the captain, detaining him by theshoulder.

  "To berth forward with the men, sir," replied Herrick, with the samehateful smile. "I've been long enough aft here with you--gentlemen."

  "You're wrong there," said Davis. "Don't you be too quick with me;there
ain't nothing wrong but the drink--it's the old story, man! Let meget sober once and then you'll see," he pleaded.

  "Excuse me, I desire to see no more of you," said Herrick.

  The captain groaned aloud. "You know what you said about my children?"he broke out.

  "By rote. In case you wish me to say it to you again?" asked Herrick.

  "Don't!" cried the captain clapping his hands to his ears. "Don't makeme kill a man I care for! Herrick, if you see me put a glass to my lipsagain till we're ashore, I give you leave to put a bullet through me; Ibeg you to do it! You're the only man aboard whose carcase is worthlosing; do you think I don't know that? do you think I ever went back onyou? I always knew you were in the right of it--drunk or sober, I knewthat. What do you want?--an oath? Man, you're clever enough to see thatthis is sure-enough earnest."

  "Do you mean there shall be no more drinking?" asked Herrick, "neitherby you nor Huish? that you won't go on stealing my profits and drinkingmy champagne that I gave my honour for? and that you'll attend to yourduties, and stand watch and watch, and bear your proper share of theship's work, instead of leaving it all on the shoulders of a landsman,and making yourself the butt and scoff of native seamen? Is that whatyou mean? If it is, be so good as to say it categorically."

  "You put these things in a way hard for a gentleman to swallow," saidthe captain. "You wouldn't have me say I was ashamed of myself? Trust methis once; I'll do the square thing, and there's my hand on it."

  "Well, I'll try it once," said Herrick. "Fail me again...."

  "No more now!" interrupted Davis. "No more, old man! Enough said. You'vea riling tongue when your back's up, Herrick. Just be glad we're friendsagain, the same as what I am; and go tender on the raws; I'll see asyou don't repent it. We've been mighty near death this day--don't saywhose fault it was!--pretty near hell, too, I guess. We're in a mightybad line of life, us two, and ought to go easy with each other."

  He was maundering; yet it seemed as if he were maundering with somedesign, beating about the bush of some communication that he feared tomake, or perhaps only talking against time in terror of what Herrickmight say next. But Herrick had now spat his venom; his was a kindlynature, and, content with his triumph, he had now begun to pity. With afew soothing words he sought to conclude the interview, and proposedthat they should change their clothes.

  "Not right yet," said Davis. "There's another thing I want to tell youfirst. You know what you said about my children? I want to tell you whyit hit me so hard; I kind of think you'll feel bad about it too. It'sabout my little Adar. You hadn't ought to have quite said that--but ofcourse I know you didn't know. She--she's dead, you see."

  "Why, Davis!" cried Herrick. "You've told me a dozen times she wasalive! Clear your head, man! This must be the drink."

  "No, _sir_," said Davis. "She's dead. Died of a bowel complaint. Thatwas when I was away in the brig _Oregon_. She lies in Portland, Maine.'Adar, only daughter of Captain John Davis and Mariar his wife, agedfive.' I had a doll for her on board. I never took the paper off'n thatdoll, Herrick; it went down the way it was with the _Sea Ranger_, thatday I was damned."

  The captain's eyes were fixed on the horizon; he talked with anextraordinary softness, but a complete composure; and Herrick lookedupon him with something that was almost terror.

  "Don't think I'm crazy neither," resumed Davis. "I've all the cold sensethat I know what to do with. But I guess a man that's unhappy's like achild; and this is a kind of a child's game of mine. I never could actup to the plain-cut truth, you see; so I pretend. And I warn you square;as soon as we're through with this talk, I'll start in again with thepretending. Only, you see, she can't walk no streets," added thecaptain, "couldn't even make out to live and get that doll!"

  Herrick laid a tremulous hand upon the captain's shoulder.

  "Don't do that!" cried Davis, recoiling from the touch. "Can't you seeI'm all broken up the way it is? Come along, then; come along, old man;you can put your trust in me right through; come along and get dryclothes."

  They entered the cabin, and there was Huish on his knees prizing open acase of champagne.

  "'Vast there!" cried the captain. "No more of that. No more drinking onthis ship."

  "Turned teetotal, 'ave you?" inquired Huish. "I'm agreeable. About time,eh? Bloomin' nearly lost another ship, I fancy." He took out a bottleand began calmly to burst the wire with the spike of a corkscrew.

  "Do you hear me speak?" cried Davis.

  "I suppose I do. You speak loud enough," said Huish. "The trouble isthat I don't care."

  Herrick plucked the captain's sleeve. "Let him free now," he said."We've had all we want this morning."

  "Let him have it, then," said the captain. "It's his last."

  By this time the wire was open, the string was cut, the head of gildedpaper was torn away; and Huish waited, mug in hand, expecting the usualexplosion. It did not follow. He eased the cork with his thumb; stillthere was no result. At last he took the screw and drew it. It came outvery easy and with scarce a sound.

  "'Illo!" said Huish. "'Ere's a bad bottle."

  He poured some of the wine into the mug; it was colourless and still. Hesmelt and tasted it.

  "W'y, wot's this?" he said. "It's water!"

  If the voice of trumpets had suddenly sounded about the ship in themidst of the sea, the three men in the house could scarcely have beenmore stunned than by this incident. The mug passed round; each sipped,each smelt of it; each stared at the bottle in its glory of gold paperas Crusoe may have stared at the footprint; and their minds were swiftto fix upon a common apprehension. The difference between a bottle ofchampagne and a bottle of water is not great; between a shipload of oneor of the other lay the whole scale from riches to ruin.

  A second bottle was broached. There were two cases standing ready in astate-room; these two were brought out, broken open, and tested. Stillwith the same result: the contents were still colourless and tasteless,and dead as the rain in a beached fishing-boat.

  "Crikey!" said Huish.

  "Here, let's sample the hold," said the captain, mopping his brow with aback-handed sweep; and the three stalked out of the house, grim andheavy-footed.

  All hands were turned out; two Kanakas were sent below, anotherstationed at a purchase; and Davis, axe in hand, took his place besidethe coamings.

  "Are you going to let the men know?" whispered Herrick.

  "Damn the men!" said Davis. "It's beyond that. We've got to knowourselves."

  Three cases were sent on deck and sampled in turn; from each bottle, asthe captain smashed it with the axe, the champagne ran bubbling andcreaming.

  "Go deeper, can't you?" cried Davis to the Kanakas in the hold.

  The command gave the signal for a disastrous change. Case after casecame up, bottle after bottle was burst, and bled mere water. Deeper yet,and they came upon a layer where there was scarcely so much as theintention to deceive; where the cases were no longer branded, thebottles no longer wired or papered, where the fraud was manifest andstared them in the face.

  "Here's about enough of this foolery!" said Davis. "Stow back the casesin the hold, Uncle, and get the broken crockery overboard. Come withme," he added to his co-adventurers, and led the way back into thecabin.