CHAPTER II
WHEREIN THE "ANDROMEDA" BEGINS HER VOYAGE
The second officer of the _Andromeda_ was pacing the bridge with theslow alertness of responsibility. He would walk from port tostarboard, glance forrard and aft, peer at the wide crescent of thestarlit sea, stroll back to port, and again scan ship and horizon.Sometimes he halted in front of the binnacle lamp to make certain thatthe man at the wheel was keeping the course, South 15 West, set byCaptain Coke shortly before midnight. His ears listened mechanicallyto the steady pulse-beats of the propeller; his eyes swept the vagueplain of the ocean for the sparkling white diamond that would betoken amast-head light; he was watchful and prepared for any unforeseenemergency that might beset the vessel intrusted to his care. But hismind dwelt on something far removed from his duties, though, to besure, every poet who ever scribbled four lines of verse has found rhymeand reason in comparing women with stars, and ships, and the sea.
If Philip Hozier was no poet, he was a sailor, and sailors arenotoriously susceptible to the charms of the softer sex. But the onlywoman he loved was his mother, the only bride he could look for duringmany a year was a mermaid, though these sprites of the deep waters seemto be frequenting undiscovered haunts since mariners ceased to woo thewind. For all that, if perforce he was heart-whole, there was no justcause or impediment why he should not admire a pretty girl when he sawone, and an exceedingly pretty girl had honored him with her companyduring a brief minute of the previous day.
He was superintending the safe disposal of the last batch of cottongoods in the forward hold--and had just found it necessary to explainthe correct principles of stowage with sailor-like fluency--when ayoung lady, accompanied by a dock laborer carrying a leatherportmanteau, spoke to him from the quay.
"Is Captain Coke on board?" said she.
"No, madam," said he, lifting his cap with one hand, and restrainingthe clanking of a steam windlass with the other.
"I am Mr. Verity's niece, and I wish to send this parcel to MonteVideo--may I put it in some place where it will be safe?" said she.
Hoping that the rattling winch had drowned his earlier remarks--whichwere couched in an _lingua franca_ of the high seas--he began to tellher that it would give him the utmost pleasure to take charge of it onher account, but she nodded, bade the porter follow, ran along asomewhat precarious gangway, and was on deck before he could offer anyassistance.
"You are Mr. Hozier, I suppose?" said Iris, gazing with frank browneyes into his frank blue ones. She, of course, was severelyself-possessed; he, as is the way of mere man, grew more confused eachinstant.
"Well, I will just pop the bag into Captain Coke's stateroom, and leavethis note with it. I have explained everything fully. I wrote a linein case he might be absent."
All of which was so strictly accurate that it served its purposeadmirably, though the said purpose, it is regrettable to state, was themisleading and utter bamboozling of Philip Hozier. Miss Iris Yorkeknew quite well that Captain Coke was then closeted with David Verityin Exchange Buildings; she knew, because she had watched him passthrough the big swing doors of her uncle's office. She also knew,having made it her business to find out, that in fifteen minutes, orless, the crew would muster in the fo'c'sle for their mid-day meal.Not having heard a word of Hozier's free speech to the gentlemen ofvarious nationalities at the bottom of the hold, she wondered why hewas blushing.
"Shall I show you the way?" asked Philip, finding his tongue.
"No, thank you. I have been on board the _Andromeda_ many times. Ah,Peter, I see you. What is it to-day, scouse or lobscouse?"
"Scouse, miss," said the ship's cook, grinning widely at herrecollection of the line drawn by both his patrons and himself betweenship's biscuit stewed with fresh meat and the same article flavoredwith salt junk.
Peter's recognition placed Iris's identity beyond doubt. She saidnothing more to Hozier, but tripped up the companionway. Soon he sawher paying the man who had carried the portmanteau. She herself seemedto be in no hurry. She walked to the rails beneath the bridge, andfound interest in watching the loading operations, which were resumedas soon as the second officer saw that his services were not wanted.Time was pressing, and a good deal yet remained to be done.
Mr. Watts, the chief officer, who was called ashore by urgent businessfive minutes after the "old man" left the vessel, chose this awkwardmoment to appear from behind a bonded warehouse. He was walking withunnatural steadiness, so Hozier made some excuse to meet him andwhisper that the owner's niece was on board.
"Sun's zhot," remarked Mr. Watts cheerfully.
"Go and lie down for a spell," suggested Hozier, and Mr. Watts thoughtit was a "shpiffin' idee." When Hozier was free to glance a secondtime at the cross rail, Iris had vanished. He was annoyed. Evidentlyshe did not wish to encounter any more of the ship's officers thatmorning.
The hatches were on, and everything was orderly before Coke's squatfigure climbed the gangway. Hozier reported the young lady's visit,and the skipper was obviously surprised. As he hoisted himself up thesteep ladder to the hurricane deck, the younger man heard himcondemning someone under his breath as "a leery old beggar." Thephrase was hardly applicable to Iris, but Coke came out of his cabinwith an open letter in his hand, and bade a steward stow theportmeanteau in some other more hallowed and less inconvenient place.
And there the incident ended. The _Andromeda_ hauled down the BluePeter for her long run of over 6,000 miles to Monte Video, and Hozierhad routine work in plenty to occupy his mind during the firsttwenty-four hours at sea without perplexing it with memories of apretty face. Soon after Holyhead was passed, it is true, a sailorreported to the second officer that he had seen a ghost between decks,in the region of the lazarette. It was then near midnight, a quiethour on board ship, and Hozier told the man sharply to go to his bunkand endeavor to sleep off the effects of the bad beer imbibed earlierin the day.
Now, on this second night of the voyage, while the ship was ploddingsteadily southward with that fifteen point inclination to the west thatwould bring her far into the Atlantic soon after daybreak, Philipremembered Mr. Verity's niece, and felt sorry that when she paid thoseformer visits to the _Andromeda_, fate had decreed that he should beserving his time on another vessel. For there was an expression in hereyes that haunted him. Though she addressed him with that absence ofrestraint which is a heaven-sent attribute of every young woman whencircumstances compel her to speak to a strange young man--though hertone to the more favored cook was kindly, and even sprightly--thoughPhilip himself was red and inclined to stammer--despite all thesehindrances to clear judgment, he felt that she was troubled in spirit.His acquaintance with women was of the slightest, since a youth who istaught his business on the _Conway_, and means to attach himself to oneof the great Trans-Atlantic shipping lines, has no time to spare fordalliance in boudoirs. But it gave him a thrill when he heard thatthis charming girl knew his name, and it seemed to him, for an instant,that she was looking into his very soul, analyzing him, searching forsome sign that he was not as others, which meant that there were somewhom she had bitter cause to distrust. Of course, that was mereday-dreaming, a nebulous fantasy brought by her gracious presence intoa medley of hurrying windlasses, strenuous orders, and sulky, pantingmen.
At any rate, she had left a memento of her too brief appearance onboard in the shape of the bag. He would contrive to take on his ownshoulders its mission in Monte Video; then, on returning to Liverpool,he would have an excuse for calling on her. He did not know her nameyet. Possibly, Captain Coke would mention that interesting fact whenhis temper lost its raw edge. As a last resource, the cook mightenlighten him.
It was strange that he should be thinking of Iris--far stranger than hecould guess--but his thoughts were sub-conscious, and he was in no wiseneglecting the safety of the ship. The night was clear but dark, thestars blinked with the subdued radiance that betokens fine weather, andever and anon their reflection glimmered from the long slope of a
wavelike the glint of spangles on a dress. But it was a garment offar-flung amplitude, woven on the shadowy loom of night and the sea,and from such mysterious warp and weft is often produced the sable robeof tragedy and death. It was so now, within an ace. At one instance,the restless plain of the ocean seemed to bear no other argosy than the_Andromeda_; in the next, Hozier's quick-moving glance had caught thepallid sheen of some small craft's starboard light. No need to tellhim what might happen. A sailing vessel, probably a fishing smack, wascrossing the steamer's course. He sprang to the telegraph, andsignaled "Slow" to the engine-room. Simultaneously he shouted to thesteersman to starboard the helm, and the siren trumpeted a singleraucous blast into the silence. With the rattle of the chains andsteering-rods in the gear-boxes came a yell from the lookout forward:
"Light on the port bow!"
Hozier repeated the hail, but promised the blear-eyed sentinels in thebows of the ship a lively five minutes when the watch was relieved.Slowly the _Andromeda_ swung to the west. Even more slowly, or so itappeared to the anxious man on the bridge, a red eye peeped into beingalongside the green one. A blacker smear showed up on the black sea,and a hoarse voice, presumably situated beneath the smear, expressed adesire for information.
"Arr ye all aslape on board that crimson collier?" it asked in aWaterford brogue.
"Got the hooker's wheel tied, I suppose?" retorted Hozier, for the nowvisible schooner had not attempted to change her course by half apoint. She was now bowling along with every stitch set before afive-knot breeze from the east; the tilt of her sails was such that shepractically presented only the outline of her spars when first sightedfrom the steamer; and her side lights probably had tallow candles inthem.
"Bedad, it's aisier in moind we'd be if you were tied to it," shoutedthe voice, and Hozier felt, like many another Saxon, that an Irishman'slast word is often the best one.
The engines resumed their cadence, and the _Andromeda_ crept roundagain to South 15 West. She was back on her proper line when a heavystep sounded on the iron rungs of the bridge ladder.
"Wot's up?" demanded Coke, who was fully dressed, though Hozier thoughthe had retired two hours earlier. "Oh, the beer is frothin' up totheir eyes, is it?" went on the skipper, after listening to a briefsummary of events. "I thought, mebbe, the wheel had jammed. But thoselazy swabs want talkin' to. I'll just give 'em a bit of me mind," andhe went forward.
Hozier heard him reading the Riot Act to the shell-backs who weresupposed to keep a sharp lookout ahead. But the captain did notmonopolize the conversation. His deep notes rumbled only at intervals.The men had something to say. He returned to the bridge.
"One of them scallywags sez 'e 'as seen a ghost," he announced, withthe calm air of a man who states that the moon will rise during thenext hour.
"I wish he could see less remarkable things, such as schooners, sir,"said Hozier.
"But 'e swears 'e sawr it twiced."
"Oh, is he the man who reported a ghost outside the lazarette lastnight?"
"I s'pose so. Did 'e tell you about it? That's where she walks."
"She!"
"That's his yarn--a female ghost, a black 'un, black clo'es anyhow.He's a dashed fool, but he's no boozer, though his mate's tongue is abit thick yet. I'll take the forenoon watch, an' you might overhaulthe ship for stowaways after breakfast. Never heard of one on thisjourney--I've routed out as many as twenty at a time w'en I was runnin'between Wellington an' Sydney--but you never can tell, so 'ave a squintround."
"Yes, sir," said Hozier, and that is how it fell to his lot to discoverIris Yorke, looking very white and miserable, when the hatch of thelazarette was broken open at half-past eight o'clock on Thursdaymorning!
A tramp steamer is not a complex organism. She is made up of holds,bunkers, boilers and engines, with scanty accommodation for officersand crew grouped round the funnel or stuck in the bows. When the boatswere stripped of their tarpaulins, and a few lockers and store-roomsexamined, the only available hiding-places were the shaft tunnel, theholds, and the lazarette, a small space between decks, situateddirectly above the propeller, where a reserve supply of provisions isgenerally carried.
But the door of the lazarette was locked, and the key missing, thoughit ought to be hanging with others, all duly labeled, on a hook in thesteward's cabin. A duplicate set of keys in the captain's possessionwas far from complete. As the steward was certain he had fastened thelazarette himself early on Tuesday morning, there was nothing for itbut to force the lock.
Even that would not have been necessary had the carpenter slackened hisefforts after the first assault. Iris cried loudly enough that shewould open the door, but the noise of the shaft and the flapping of thescrew drowned her voice, and she was compelled to stand clear when thestout planking began to yield.
It was dark in there, and Hozier was undeniably startled by thespectacle of a slim figure, wrapped in a long ulster, standing amongthe cases and packages. "Now, out you come!" he cried, with agruffness that was intended only to cover his own amazement; but Iris,despite the horrors of sea-sickness and confinement in the dark, wasnot minded to suffer what she considered to be impertinence on the partof a second officer.
"I am Miss Yorke," she said, coming forward into the half light of thelower deck. "Any explanation of my presence here will be given to thecaptain, and to no other person."
That innocent word "person" is capable of many meanings. Hozier feltthat its application to himself was distinctly unfavorable. And Iriswas quite dignified and self-possessed. She had given a few defttouches to her hair. Her hat was set at the right angle. Her darkgray coat and brown boots looked neat and serviceable.
"Of course I did not know to whom I was speaking," he managed to say,for he now recognized the "ghost," and was more surprised than he hadever been in his life before.
"That is matterless," said Iris frigidly. "Where is Captain Coke?"
"On the bridge," said Philip.
"I will go to him. Please don't come with me. I tried to tell youthat I would unlock the door, but you refused to listen. Will you letme pass?"
He obeyed in silence.
"Well, s'help me!" muttered a sailor, "talk about suffrigettes! Wotprice _'er_?"
Iris hurried to the deck. The light seemed to dazzle her, and hersteps were so uncertain that Hozier sprang forward and caught her arm.
"Won't you sit down a moment, Miss Yorke?" he said. "If you searchedthe whole ship, you could not have chosen a worse place to travel inthan the lazarette."
"I was driven out twice at night by the rats," she gasped, though shestrove desperately to regain control of her trembling limbs.
"Too bad!" he whispered. "But it was your own fault. Why did you doit? At any rate, wait here a few minutes before you meet the captain."
"I am not afraid of meeting him. Why should I be? He knows me."
"I meant only that you are hardly able to walk, but I seem to say thewrong thing every time. There is nothing really to worry about. Weare not far from Queenstown. We can put you ashore there by losinghalf a day."
The girl had been ill, wracked in body and distraught in mind, with theadded horror of knowing that rats were scampering over the deck closeto her in the noisy darkness, but she summoned a half laugh at hiswords.
"You are still saying the wrong thing, Mr. Hozier," she murmured. "The_Andromeda_ will not put into Queenstown. From this hour I become apassenger, not a stowaway. My uncle knows now that I am here. Thankyou, you need not hold me any longer. I have quite recovered. CaptainCoke is on the bridge, you said? I can find my way; this ship is nostranger to me."
And away she went, justifying her statements by tripping rapidlyforward. The mere sight of her created boundless excitement among suchmembers of the crew as were on deck, but the shock administered to Mr.Watts was of that intense variety often described as electric. In thematter of disposing of large quantities of ardent spirits he was aseasoned vessel, and, as a general rule, the
first day at sea sufficedto clear his brain from the fumes of the last orgy on shore. But, tobe effective, the cure must not be too drastic. This morning, afterleaving the bridge, he had fortified his system with a liberalallowance of rum and milk. Breakfast ended, he took another dose ofthe same mixture as a "steadier," and he was just leaving the messroomwhen he set eyes on Iris. Of course, he refused to believe his eyes.Had they not deceived him many times?
"Ha!" said he, "a bit liverish," and he pressed a rough hand firmlydownward from forehead to cheek-bones. When he looked again, the girlwas much nearer.
"Lord luv' a duck, this time I've got 'em for sure!" he groaned.
His lower jaw dropped, he stared unblinkingly, and purple veins bulgedcrookedly on his seamed forehead. He was bereft of the power ofmovement. He stood stock-still, blocking the narrow gangway.
"Good morning, Mr. Watts. You remember me, don't you?" said Iris,showing by her manner that she wished to pass him.
A slight roll of the ship assisted in the disintegration of Watts. Hecollapsed sideways into the cook's galley, the door of which washospitably open. Somewhat frightened by the wildness of his looks,Iris ran on, and dashed at the foot of the companion ratherbreathlessly. The keen air was already tingeing her cheeks with color.When she reached the bridge, where Captain Coke was propped against thechart-house, with a thick, black cigar sticking in his mouth andapparently trying to touch his nose, she had lost a good deal of thepallor and woe-begone semblance that had demoralized Hozier.
Coke heard the rapid, light footsteps, and turned his head. At alltimes slow of thought and slower of speech, he was galvanized into asudden rigidity that differed only in degree from the symptomsdisplayed by his chief officer. Certainly he could not have been morestupefied had he seen the ghost reported overnight.
"They told me I should find you here, Captain," said she. "I mustapologize for thrusting my company on you for a long voyage,but--circumstances--were--too much for me--and----"
Face to face with the commander of the ship, and startled anew by hisexpression of blank incredulity, the glib flow of words conned so oftenduring the steadfast but dreadful hours spent in the lazarette failedher.
"You know me," she faltered. "I am Iris Yorke."
Not a syllable came from the irate and astonished man gazing at herwith such a bovine stolidity. His shoulders had not abated a fractionof their stubborn thrust against the frame of the chart-house. Hishands were immovable in the pockets of his reefer coat. The cigarstill stuck out between his lips like a miniature jib-boom. Had hewished to terrify her by a hostile reception, he could not havesucceeded more completely, though, to be just, he meant nothing of thesort; his wits being jumbled into chaos by the apparition of the lastperson then alive whom he expected or desired to see on board the_Andromeda_.
But Iris could not interpret his mood, and she strove vainly to conquerthe fear welling up in her breast because of the grim anger that seemedto blaze at her from every line of Coke's brick-red countenance. Inthe struggle to pour forth the excuses and protestations that soundedso plausible in her own ears, while secured from observation behind thelocked door of her retreat, she blundered unhappily on to the verytopic that she had resolved to keep secret.
"Why are you so unwilling to acknowledge me?" she cried, with a nervousindignation that lent a tremor to her voice. "You have met me oftenenough. You saw me on Sunday at my uncle's house?"
"Did I?" said Coke, speaking at last, but really as much at a loss forsomething to say as the girl herself. He had recognized her instantly,just as he would recognize the moon if the luminary fell from the sky,and with as little comprehension of the cause of its falling.
Of course, she took the question as a forerunner of blank denial. Thiswas not to be borne. She fired into a direct attack.
"If your memory is hazy concerning the events of Sunday afternoon, itmay be helpful if I recall the conversation between my uncle and you inthe summer-house," she snapped.
Some of the glow fled from Coke's face. He straightened himself andglanced at the sailor inside the wheel-house, whose attention was giveninstantly to the fact that the vessel's head had fallen away a fullpoint or more from South 15 West owing to the easterly set of a strongtide. Vessels' heads are apt to turn when steersmen do not attend totheir business.
"Wot's that you're sayin'?" demanded Coke, coming nearer, and lookingher straight in the eyes.
"I heard every word of that interesting talk," she continued valiantly,though she was sensible of a numbness that seemed to envelop her in anice-cold mist. "I know what you arranged to do--so I have promised--tomarry Mr. Bulmer--when the _Andromeda_--comes back----"
A light broke on Coke's intelligence that irradiated his prominenteyes. His heavy lips relaxed into a cunning grin, and he flicked theash off the end of the cigar with a confidential nod.
"Oh, is _that_ it?" he said. "Artful old dog, Verity! But why in--whydidn't 'e tell me you was comin' aboard this trip? We 'aven't theright fixin's for a lady, so you must put up with the best we can dofor you, Miss Yorke. Nat'rally, we're tickled to death to 'ave yourcompany, an' if on'y that blessed uncle of your's 'ad told me wot toexpect, I'd 'ave made things ship-shape at Liverpool. But, mygod-father, wot sort of ijjit axed you to stow yourself away in thelazareet? Steady now; you ain't a-goin' to faint, are you?"
Coke's amiability came too late. His squat figure and red facesuddenly loomed into a gigantic indistinctness in the girl's eyes. Shewould have fallen to the deck had not the captain's strong handsclutched her by the shoulders.
"Hi! Below there!" he yelled. "Tumble up, some of you!"
Hozier was the first to gain the bridge. He had followed the progressof events with sufficient accuracy to realize that Miss Iris Yorke hadmet with a distinct rebuff by the skipper, and, judging from his ownexperience of her physical weakness when she emerged into daylight, hewas not surprised to hear that she had fainted.
"'Ere, take 'old," gurgled Coke, who had nearly swallowed the cigar inhis surprise at Iris's unforeseen collapse. "This kind of thing ismore in your line than mine, young feller. Just lay 'er out in thesaloon, an' ax Watts to 'elp. His missus goes orf regular w'en theybring 'im 'ome paralytic."
Philip took the girl into his arms. To carry her safely down the steepstairway he was compelled to place her head on his left shoulder andclasp her tightly round the waist with his left arm. Some loosenedstrands of her hair touched his face; he could feel the laboring of herbreast, the wild beating of her heart, and he was exceeding wroth withthat unknown man or woman who had driven this insensible girl to suchstraits that she was ready to dare the discomforts and deprivations ofa voyage as a stowaway, rather than be persecuted further.
Iris was laid on a couch in the messroom, and the steward summoned Mr.Watts. The chief officer came, looking sheepish. It was manifestly agreat relief when he found that the "ghost" was unconscious.
"Oh, that's nothing," he cried, in response to his junior's eagerdemand for information as to the treatment best fitted for suchemergencies. "They all drop in a heap like that w'en they're worried.Fust you takes orf their gloves an' boots, then you undoes their staysan' rips open their dresses at the necks. One of you rubs their 'andsan' another their feet, an' you dabs cold water on their foreheads, an'burn brown paper under their noses. In between whiles you give 'em adrink, stiff as you can make it. It's dead easy. Them stays are a bittroublesome if they run to size, but she's thin enough as it is.Anyhow, I can show you a fine trick for that. Just turn her over tillI cast a lashin' loose with my knife."
Watts was elbowed aside so unceremoniously that his temper gave way.Hozier lifted Iris's head gently and unfastened the neck-hooks of herblouse. He began to chafe her cold hands tenderly, and pressed backthe hair from her damp forehead. The "chief," not flattered by his ownreflections, thought fit to sneer at these half measures.
"She's on'y a woman like the rest of 'em," he growled, "even if she_is_ the owner's niece, an' a
good-lookin' gal at that. I s'pose nowyou think----"
"I think she will want some fresh air soon, so you had better clearout," said Philip.
His words were quiet, but he flashed a warning glance at the other manthat sufficed. Watts retired, muttering sarcasms under his breath.
Iris revived, to find Philip supporting her with a degree of skill thatwas remarkable in one who had enjoyed so little experience in thosematters. She heard his voice, coming, as it seemed, rapidly nearer,urging her to sip something very fiery and spirituous. Instantly sheprotested.
"What are you giving me?" she sobbed. "What has happened?"
Then the whole of her world opened up before her. Her hands flew toher throat, her hair. She flushed into vivid life as the marbleGalatea incardinated under Pygmalion's kiss.
"Did I faint?" she asked confusedly.
"Yes, but you are all right now. You did not fall. Captain Cokecaught you and handed you over to me. I wish you would drink theremainder of this brandy, and rest for a little while."
Iris pushed away the glass and sat up.
"You carried me?" she said.
"Well, I couldn't do anything else."
"I suppose you don't realize what it means to a woman to feel that shehas been out of her senses under such conditions?"
"No, but in your case it only meant that you sighed deeply a few timesand tried to bite my fingers when I wished to open your mouth."
"What for? Why did you want to open my mouth?"
"To give you a drink--you needed a stimulant."
"Oh!"
By this time a few dexterous twists and turns had restrained thosewandering tresses within bounds. She held a hair-pin between her lips,and a woman can always say exactly what she means when a hairpinprevents discursiveness.
"I am all right now," she announced. "Will you please leave me, andtell the steward to bring me a cup of tea? If there is a cabin atliberty, he might put that portmanteau in it which I brought on boardat Liverpool."
Hozier fulfilled her requests, and rejoined Coke on the bridge.
"Miss Yorke is quite well again, sir," he reported. "She wants acabin--to change her clothes, I imagine. That bag you saw----"
"Pretty foxy, wasn't it?" broke in Coke, with a glee that was puzzlingto his hearer.
"The whole affair seems to have been carefully planned," agreed Philip."But, as I was saying, she asked for the use of a cabin, so I told thesteward to give her mine until we put into Queenstown."
Coke, who had lighted another black and stumpy cigar, removed it inorder to speak with due emphasis.
"Put into h--l!" he said.
"But surely you will not take this young lady to the River Plate?"cried the astounded second officer.
"She knew where she was bound w'en she kem aboard the _Andromeda_,"said the skipper, frowning now like a man who argues with himself."There's her portmanter to prove it, with a label, an' all, in her own'and-writin'. It's some game played on me by 'er an' 'er uncle.Any'ow, the fust time she sees land again it'll be the lovely 'arbor ofPernambuco--an' that's straight. 'Ere she is, an' 'ere she'll stop,an' the best thing you can do is spread the notion among the crew thatshe's runnin' away to avoid marryin' a man she doesn't like. Thatsounds reasonable, an' it 'appens to be true. Verity an' me talked itover last Sunday, p.m."
"To avoid a marriage?" repeated Hozier, who discovered a bluff honesty,not to say candor, in the statement, not perceptible hitherto in hiscommander's utterances.
"Yes, that's it," said Coke, waving the cigar across an arc of thehorizon as he warmed to the subject. "But look 'ere, me boy, this galsails under my flag. I'm, wot d'ye call it, in locomotive parentibus,or something of the sort, while she's on the ship's books. You keepyour mouth shut, an' wink the other eye, an' leave it to me to give youthe chanst of your life--eh, wot?"
Philip Hozier did not strive to extract the precise meaning of theskipper's words. The process would have been difficult, since Cokehimself could not have supplied any reasonable analysis. Somehow, tothe commander's thinking, the presence of the girl seemed to makeeasier the casting away of the ship--exactly how, or what bearing herstrangely-begun voyage might have on subsequent events, he was not yetin a position to say. But when the second officer left him, and he wassteeped once more in the fresh breeze and the sunshine, with hisshoulders braced against the chart-house, he looked at a smoke trail onthe horizon far away to the west.
"Queenstown!" he chuckled. "Not this journey--not if my name's JimmieCoke, the man 'oo is stannin' on all that is left of 'is 'ard-earnedsavin's. No, sir, I've got me orders an' I've got me letter, an' thepore old _Andromeda_ gets ripped to pieces in the Recife, or I'll knowthe reason why. Wot a card to play at the inquiry! Owner's niece onboard--bound to South America for the good of 'er health. 'Oo even'eard of a man sendin' 'is pretty niece on a ship 'e meant to throwaway? It's Providential, that's wot it is, reel Providential! I dobelieve ole Verity 'ad a 'and in it."
Which shows that Captain Coke confused Providence with David Verity,and goes far to prove how ill-fitted he was to theorize on the ways ofProvidence.