W.C 
 RUS
 
 THE MATE OF THE GOOD SHIP YORK 
 
 OR, THE SHIP'S ADVENTURE 
 
 OF CALI?. LIBRARY, LOS AHGBLWf
 
 " HARDY FREQUENTLY TURNED TO LOOK AT THE 
 
 YORK. " (See Page 267)
 
 V "% 
 
 ! THE MATE OF THE | 
 
 < A 
 
 ! GOOD SHIP YORK 
 
 * * 
 
 * * 
 
 JJ Or, The Ship's Adventure 
 
 * * 
 
 * > 
 
 | By | 
 
 ! W. Clark Russell | 
 
 Author of "The Wreck of the Gros- 
 
 w '^" 
 
 venor," "Marooned," "A Marriage 
 at Sea," " My Danish Sweetheart," etc. 
 
 With a frontispiece by 
 
 W. H. DUNTON 
 
 ^ "^ 
 
 f * 
 
 [ u fWm^\fL\ 
 
 * 
 
 * 
 
 J Boston: L. C. PAGE & 
 
 * 
 
 COMPANY, Publishers |
 
 Copyright, 1900 
 BY S. S. MCCLURE COMPANY 
 
 Copyright, 1902 
 BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 (INCORPORATED) 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Eighth Impression, April, 1907 
 
 Colonial 
 
 Electrotypd and Printed by C. H. Stmonds & Co. 
 Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
 
 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 I. JULIA ARMSTRONG . . . . .11 
 
 II. BAX'S FARM 29 
 
 III. THE EAST INDIA DOCK ROAD ... 48 
 
 IV. THE " GLAMIS CASTLE " .... 66 
 V. CAPTAIN LAYARD ...... 83 
 
 VI. THE SHIP'S LOOKOUT . . . 101 
 
 VII. THE FRENCH MATE 119 
 
 VIII. LOST! 137 
 
 IX. THE INDIAMAN'S BOAT 152 
 
 X. THE CAPTAIN AND THE GIRL . . .170 
 
 XI. THE CAPTAIN'S BIRTHDAY . . . .187 
 
 XII. JULIA CALLS " JOHNNY 1" .... 206 
 
 XIII. THEY MEET 219 
 
 XIV. HARD WEATHER ...... 239 
 
 XV. ABOARD AGAIN 256 
 
 XVI. PRACTICAL SEAMANSHIP .... 273 
 
 XVII. THE BOAT -FULL 293 
 
 XVIII. HAIL, COLUMBIA! 313 
 
 XIX. THE CAMILLA OF THE SEA .... 333 
 
 2132434
 
 The Mate of the Good Ship York 
 
 Or, the Ship's Adventure 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 JULIA ARMSTRONG 
 
 A HOUSE with a wall, which would be blank but 
 for a door and two steps, stands in a very pretty 
 lane. The habitable aspect of the house is on the 
 other side, and commands a wide prospect of sloping 
 fields and river and green sweeps soaring into emi- 
 nences thickly clothed with trees. A brass plate 
 upon this lonely door bears the simple inscription, 
 "Dr. Hardy."" 
 
 The lane runs down to a bridge, and the flowing 
 river carries the eye along a scene of English 
 beauty : the bending trees sip the water's surface ; 
 the bright meadow stretches from the bank, and 
 is tender and gay with the tints and movement of 
 cattle; lofty trees sentinel the lane, and in the early 
 summer the notes of the thrush and the blackbird 
 are clear and sweet. 
 
 One autumn evening, at about seven o'clock, the 
 door bearing Doctor Hardy's plate was pulled open, 
 and a young fellow, with something nautical in his
 
 12 f The Mate of the Good Ship York + 
 
 lurch and dress, stepped into the road, and began 
 to fill his pipe. Immediately behind him appeared 
 another figure he was a thin, pale, gentlemanly- 
 looking man, and his white hair was parted down 
 the middle. He gazed with a great deal of kind- 
 ness, not unmingled with the shadow of sorrow, 
 at the young fellow who was filling his pipe, and 
 said : 
 
 " You have a pleasant evening for your walk." 
 
 " I am sorry to leave this place," said the young 
 man. " There is nothing like this to be met on the 
 open ocean." And whilst he pulled out a match- 
 box his eyes went away to the green, evening- 
 clad hills, which showed between the trees in a 
 sweep of sky-line pure as the rim of a coloured 
 lens; and now two or three of the stars which 
 shine upon our country, and which we all know 
 and love, were trembling in the dark blue of the 
 coming shadow. 
 
 The young man lighted his pipe with several hard 
 sucks not wanting in emotion. 
 
 " God bless you, father," said he. " I shall be 
 turning up and finding all well within twelve 
 months, I hope." 
 
 " God bless you, my dear son, and I pray that 
 he may continue to watch over you," said the 
 white-haired old gentleman in a shaking voice. 
 
 The young man started to walk with his face 
 set toward the hill. Doctor Hardy stood in the 
 doorway watching him until he had disappeared 
 round the bend. He then stepped back and closed 
 the door upon himself. 
 
 It would not be dark for a little while, and even 
 when the dusk came up over the hills a piece of
 
 f Julia Armstrong & 13 
 
 moon would float up with it. The water flowing in 
 the valley lay in short lines and sweet curves in a 
 moist dim rose. A clock was striking; a wagon 
 was rumbling in a weak note of thunder past some 
 low-lying hedge that skirted a road. The young 
 fellow stepped out leisurely with his pipe hanging 
 at his teeth ; he was going away to London and was 
 walking to the station, and was without even a stick. 
 He was square, robust, a nautical type of young 
 man, clean shaven, of a cheerful cast of face, but 
 with something singular in the expression of his 
 eyes owing to the upper lids being mere streaks and 
 scarcely visible, and the coloured matter black and 
 brilliant, so that when he stared at you his look 
 would have been fierce but for the qualifying expres- 
 sion of the rest of his face. He walked with a slight 
 roll of the sea in his gait, and if you had noticed 
 him at all you might have supposed him a sailor. 
 Yet a man need not be a sailor to look like one. I 
 have met nautical-looking men who would not be 
 sailors for the value of the cargoes of twenty voy- 
 ages. On the other hand, I have met sailors who, 
 had they called themselves greengrocers' assistants 
 or tailors' cutters, would have been believed. 
 
 This young fellow, smoking his pipe and walking 
 along through the fine autumn-gathering evening, 
 was the only son of the white-haired gentleman who 
 had just withdrawn into his house. He had been to 
 sea since he was fourteen years of age, and his name 
 was George Hardy, and he was now chief mate of 
 the York, an Australian clipper, twelve hundred and 
 fifty tons burthen, then lying in the East India 
 Docks. He was going to join her, and why he was 
 without baggage was because he had sent his chest 
 aboard in advance.
 
 14 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 Formerly the railway station stood not very far 
 distant from Doctor Hardy's house; but all about 
 here was unimportant it was more a district than 
 a place. Hardy's patients, for instance, were scat- 
 tered over miles, and, like the plums in a sailor's 
 pudding, the houses were scarcely within hail of one 
 another. The railway company, two years before 
 this date, removed the station seven miles higher up 
 the line, to the great consternation of the unfortunate 
 man who had purchased the " Fox Railway Inn," 
 then conveniently seated within a short walk of the 
 station. Figure his horror when one morning he 
 saw men with pickaxes uprooting the platform. 
 The " Fox Inn " was left as desolate as Noah's Ark 
 on Mount Ararat, and it needed three men to 
 go through the bankruptcy court before matters 
 began to look a little brighter for this unfortunate 
 tavern. 
 
 There was plenty of time, and Hardy did not walk 
 very fast. He enjoyed the sweets of the country, all 
 the aromas of the darkling land which came along 
 in the faint, cold, evening air. When a sailor arrives 
 from a long voyage he makes up his mind to button 
 the flaps of his ears to his head, and to steer a 
 straight course for the deepest inshore recess. He 
 does not do so because he usually brings up at the 
 nearest grog-shop on his arrival, or makes his way 
 to the boarding-house where he was robbed and 
 stripped when he was last in the place, and in a short 
 time he is away at sea again with no clothes but 
 what he stands up in, and no bed but the bundle of 
 hay or straw which he flings, with curses deep as the 
 sea and dark as the ship's hold, down the hatch 
 under which he sleeps. But it is an illustration of
 
 $ Julia Armstrong $> 15 
 
 his hatred of salt water that he should resolve to 
 bury himself deep inshore when he lands. 
 
 George Hardy did not belong to the class who live 
 in boarding-houses and wear knives on their hips. 
 He was the son of a gentleman, he was a man of 
 taste and feeling which his seafaring life had 
 heightened and enlarged ; he had the eye of an artist 
 and the spirit of a poet, and was too good for a 
 calling that does not require these qualities. 
 
 The road for about four miles was very lonely. 
 One little cottage on the right stood in an orchard 
 and grounds which sloped to a hedge almost three- 
 quarters of a mile down. He met nobody ; once or 
 twice a squirrel ran across the pale dust; the birds 
 had gone to bed, there was no song; the sun had 
 sunk, and the evening had deepened into the first of 
 the night. 
 
 Suddenly, some distance ahead of him on the 
 left, Hardy spied what was undoubtedly a human 
 figure. It lay in a dry, shallow ditch with the upper 
 part of its body a little raised, resting upon the 
 bank under the hedge. As he approached he saw 
 that it was a woman, and then that it was a girl 
 in a straw hat with nothing near her in the shape 
 of bag, bundle, or dog. She must be some 
 wearied wayfarer who had seated herself and 
 fallen asleep. But he did not believe this, either; 
 on the contrary, when he was close to the figure he 
 imagined it to be a corpse. 
 
 He put his pipe in his pocket, and stood looking 
 at her. There was light enough to see by, but not 
 very distinctly. He stooped and peered, and then 
 started and exclaimed: 
 
 "By Jove, it's Julia Armstrong! What's come 
 to her?"
 
 1 6 f The Mate of the Good Ship York -f 
 
 He looked up and down the road; not a soul 
 was in sight. He felt her ungloved hands they 
 were cold. Her straw hat was tilted on her head, 
 which rested not on the brim of her hat but on 
 her hair, that was dressed in a mass behind and 
 pillowed her. Her eyes were not closed, and if she 
 was not dead she was in a swoon. He got beside 
 her and lifted her head, all the while wondering 
 what she was doing dead or in a faint in this 
 ditch. He then pulled out a small flask of brandy 
 diluted with water, and as her pure white teeth lay 
 a little apart he managed to pour a dram into her 
 mouth. He chafed her hands, and in a sort of 
 way caressed her by holding her to him. He also 
 put her hat straight, and wetting his handkerchief 
 with a little brandy and water he damped her brow, 
 now taking notice that she was not dead by 
 sundry tokens of life of a most elusive and subtle 
 character, whereof her breathing was not one, for 
 he could not detect a stir of air on the back of his 
 hand betwixt her lips, nor the faintest heave of 
 her pretty breast. 
 
 She was Julia Armstrong, and, strange to say, an 
 old love of his I mean, he had lost his heart to her 
 a little time before he went to sea, when he was 
 scarcely more than a schoolboy. Then he went to 
 sea, and when he came home she had gone some- 
 where on a visit, and so of the next voyage; but 
 when he returned from his fourth trip round the 
 world he met her, and found the old beautiful 
 charm again in her; but in a week she left to 
 occupy some post as a governess thirty miles away, 
 and when they met again it was here by this 
 roadside.
 
 $ Julia Armstrong $ 17 
 
 What had captivated the young fellow with this 
 girl who lay unconscious in the fold of his arm? 
 She had a pleasant, interesting face, beheld even 
 through the death pallor that lay upon it; but she 
 was not beautiful or even pretty. Her hair was 
 abundant and fair, inclining, as you might even 
 judge by that light, to auburn. But it was not her 
 face nor hair, it was her figure that had excited ad- 
 miration into passion in the young sailor. Her 
 shape and involuntary poses were saucy and perfect 
 beyond expression. She always carried her hat on 
 one side of her head " cock-billed," as the sailors 
 call it ; she had a trick of planting her hands on her 
 hips; her limbs were beautifully shaped, and her 
 short skirts exposed as much or little of them as her 
 figure required. No dancer of exquisite art could 
 have played her legs as this girl did, yet all her 
 movements were involuntary and unconscious, and 
 therein lay the sweetness, for had a hint of study 
 been visible in her motions the whole maidenly 
 and fairy-like illusion would have hardened into 
 acting. 
 
 Young Hardy had thought of the Vivandiere, of 
 the Fille-du-Regiment, when he looked at her. He 
 could not have told you why. Was it the sauciness, 
 that was not wanton, of the repose of her hands 
 upon her hips? the unconsciously crossed leg when 
 standing? the cock-billed hat, or tam-o'-shanter, 
 that made you feel the need of music? the fixed 
 gaze that was not staring but pensive? the sudden 
 change of attitude that was like the cloud shadow 
 upon a rose on which the sun had rested? What 
 had all this to do with the Vivandiere ? But Hardy 
 had got the word and the idea into his head, and
 
 1 8 f The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 when he thought of her at sea 'twas as though she 
 was walking with a regiment with a little barrel of 
 cordial waters upon her back. 
 
 Again he looked up the road and then down the 
 road ; he could hear a cart in a lane that ran parallel, 
 but nobody was visible. He was beginning to won- 
 der what he was to do whether he had the phys- 
 ical strength to carry this fine girl in his arms four 
 miles, that is, to his father's house when she 
 sighed, stirred like an awakening sleeper, sighed 
 again, and opened a pair of gray eyes full upon his 
 face. 
 
 " Do you know me? " he asked. 
 
 " Where am I ? " she answered, and with a sud- 
 den effort she raised her form out of his arm, but in 
 a moment fell back again in sheer weakness. 
 
 " Don't you remember your old friend George 
 Hardy?" he said. 
 
 She looked at him with that sort of intentness 
 which you will sometimes see in a baby's eyes, and 
 her lips drooped into a scarcely perceptible smile. 
 
 "What am I doing here?" she asked, and she 
 gazed round her, deeply puzzled. 
 
 He gave her a little more brandy, which she cer- 
 tainly stood in need of, and looking at her without 
 speaking, he waited until more mind came into her 
 face; and now she made an effort to rise. 
 
 " Keep still until you have come right to," said 
 he. " I wish some old cart would come along to give 
 us a lift to my father's." 
 
 "Your father's?" 
 
 " Doctor Hardy," he answered. " About an 
 hour's walk away." 
 
 " Yes, I know," she exclaimed. " If a cart came 
 I would not go."
 
 <Q* Julia Armstrong $ 19 
 
 " My dear Miss Armstrong, what are you doing 
 here?" exclaimed young Hardy. "All alone in a 
 dead faint in a ditch ! Were you returning home? " 
 And again he looked a little way up and down, 
 thinking to see a handbag or a parcel, but her hands 
 were as empty as his. 
 
 " I'm going to London," she said. " What time 
 is it?" 
 
 " I'm going to London, too," said he ; " but 
 neither of us will catch the train we want. Do you 
 mean to walk to London? " 
 
 She shook her head, and put her hand in her 
 pocket as though seeking her purse. What she 
 sought was evidently there. 
 
 Now her faculties had come together, but it was 
 clear she must sit a little longer before attempting to 
 rise ; so they sat side by side with their feet in the 
 dry ditch, and their backs against the hedge. 
 
 " Why are you going to London? " he asked. 
 
 " I'm leaving home for good," she answered. 
 
 "Where's your luggage?" 
 
 " I have none," she replied. 
 
 "Are you running away from home?" he in- 
 quired, beginning to see a little into this matter. 
 
 " I have no home, and I am leaving my father's 
 house of my own accord," she replied, animated by 
 a little faint passion. " I could endure the life no 
 longer I am the wretchedest girl in the world. 
 Oh, how his wife has treated me! You once met 
 her." 
 
 She struggled with her heart, and some tears ran 
 down her face. 
 
 It is true that Hardy had met this stepmother 
 this second Mrs. Armstrong and he had then
 
 20 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 gathered that the lady and Miss Julia did not lead 
 the lives of angels in each other's company. In 
 short, he had heard that Mrs. Armstrong, by her 
 drink, by her language, and conduct in general, 
 had made a very hell of Captain, or Commander, 
 Armstrong's home for his daughter. The captain 
 was retired, was poor, and Mrs. Armstrong had 
 brought him a hundred a year, which was a godsend. 
 He took life very easily, drank his whisky, smoked 
 his pipe, and was welcome at several houses in the 
 neighbourhood, where at one he would get billiards, 
 at another a rubber, at a third a gossip in which 
 he related his China experiences; and the whisky 
 bottle always kept him company, though his kindest 
 friend could never say that in all his time he had 
 seen him drunk once. Doctor Hardy was on good 
 terms with him, but spoke with strong dislike of 
 Mrs. Armstrong, and of her treatment of her daugh- 
 ter, that was driving her into seeking and taking 
 situations, some of a menial sort, and that threat- 
 ened before long to break her heart or to send her to 
 the bad, as 'tis called. But with domestic troubles of 
 this sort people do not choose to concern themselves, 
 except in exaggerating them in talk by scandalous 
 hints and opinions. 
 
 " I must wait for something to pass that will help 
 me to carry you to my father's house," said Hardy, 
 looking anxiously at the girl whom he could not fail 
 to see was weak and exhausted. 
 
 " I have already declined," she answered. " I 
 will not return a single yard in that hateful direc- 
 tion. I shall feel stronger presently. Is there not 
 another train later on ? " 
 
 " Not to London."
 
 f* Julia Armstrong $ 21 
 
 " I must not miss this," she exclaimed, struggling 
 to rise. 
 
 " Look here," said he, keeping her down by gentle 
 pressure of the hand, " I am going to London and 
 we will go together, but we shall have to wait until 
 to-morrow. Will not that suit? If you are in a 
 desperate hurry you can leave early to-morrow. Do 
 you know Bax's farm?" 
 
 " Of course I do," she answered, turning her face 
 up the road. 
 
 " Bax shall give you a bedroom," said he, " since 
 you refuse to return with me to my father. A good 
 supper and a good night's rest are the doctoring you 
 stand in need of. I find you in a dead faint in a 
 ditch, and so you come under my care, and I am 
 answerable for you. We are old friends." 
 
 She faintly smiled and looked at him. 
 
 " You will do exactly what I ask, and at Bax's 
 farm we shall have leisure for a little talk." 
 
 She bowed her head, and he saw that she cried 
 again. 
 
 They spied a man at the bottom of the hill coming 
 up. The girl started, and said, " I am quite strong 
 enough to stand and walk," and she stood up, one 
 of the most beautiful figures amongst women, with 
 a sweet ingenuous sauciness which was the flavour- 
 ing grace of her happy hours, distinguishable still, 
 even in this time of misery and illness. The man 
 coming along was a common labourer, but she did 
 not choose that any one should see her sitting in a 
 ditch. 
 
 They walked slowly up the road. She leaned upon 
 his arm and occasionally stopped to rest, and their 
 talk until they arrived at the farm was not much;
 
 11 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 indeed she said little more than that she had been 
 making up her mind for some weeks to leave her 
 father's house for ever and to sail to a colony, where 
 she would be willing to accept the lowest menial 
 office so long as she was independent, and received 
 the respect that was due to her as a lady. She had 
 left her home that day in the afternoon, meaning to 
 walk to the station and take the train to London, 
 whence she intended to write to her father to for- 
 ward her clothes in the box which stood ready 
 corded in her bedroom. When she had walked 
 some distance it might be five miles a sudden 
 faintness seized her, and she sat down under a hedge 
 to rest. She then must have fainted, and knew no 
 more until she returned to consciousness, and found 
 herself resting against Hardy. 
 
 This talk brought them to Bax's farm. 
 
 It was not a farm, though it was called so. Bax 
 sold milk and garden produce and eggs, and the 
 countryside called his house a farm. It had two 
 gables and a thatched roof, small latticed windows, 
 and a door that opened direct into the sitting-room. 
 In the summer the house was enchanting with its 
 flowers and shrubbery and the climbing green stuff 
 about it, and then the concert of the woods thrilled 
 in the trees beyond, and the air was full of sweet 
 smells. 
 
 Bax was a man of about sixty, immensely stout 
 behind and in front, with a face that seemed pow- 
 dered with pale, scissors-shorn whisker, and small 
 eyes which had drowned their lustre in beer. He 
 stood in the doorway in his shirt-sleeves smoking a 
 pipe, and was not at all surprised when the couple 
 passed through the gate and approached the porch. 
 He merely pulled out his pipe, and said:
 
 f Julia Armstrong $> 23 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Hardy ; good evening, Miss 
 Armstrong. Come for a bit of a sit down? Will 
 y' 'ave chairs here? or the sitting-room's at your 
 sarvice." 
 
 "How d'ye do, Mr. Bax?" said Hardy. 
 
 " Good evening, Mr. Bax," said Miss Armstrong, 
 in a faint voice. 
 
 "Take us into your sitting-room," said Hardy; 
 and they entered the door and were in the sitting- 
 room at once a cosy little room, hung with por- 
 traits of Bax and his dead wife and daughter, deco- 
 rated with a small mantel-glass in fly-gauze, and 
 hospitable with a round table on one leg and three 
 claws, the top beautified by a knitted cover. 
 
 Julia sank into a little armchair. Bax was be- 
 ginning to gaze at her earnestly; he knew her per- 
 fectly well, knew her father also, who frequently 
 looked in for a drink ; also he knew Hardy perfectly 
 well, likewise his father, who attended him when he 
 was attacked by gout. 
 
 " Mr. Bax," said Hardy, putting his cap down 
 upon the table, " we have come to occupy your house 
 this night." 
 
 " Joost been married, have yer? " asked Bax, slip- 
 ping his pipe into his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 "No," answered Hardy, gravely; "Miss Arm- 
 strong is leaving her home for good. If you don't 
 guess why, I'll tell you presently." 
 
 Bax looked knowing; he looked more knowing 
 an instant later when a fine Persian kitten ran up 
 his back and curled its tail upon his shoulder, for 
 then two pairs of eyes were fastened upon Hardy, 
 the kitten, being no beer drinker, gazing more stead- 
 fastly than the other.
 
 24 *t The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 " Have you a bedroom that you can place at Miss 
 Armstrong's disposal ? " 
 
 " Is there no later train? " asked Julia. 
 
 " We would not take it if there were," replied 
 Hardy. 
 
 Of course Bax, having lost his wife, must consult 
 his daughter, and when he had opened a door and 
 shouted a little for Mary Ann there arrived a woman 
 who looked old enough to be Bax's mother. Her 
 face seemed to be dredged by time ; the arcus senilis 
 was more defined in her than in Bax; she looked 
 seventy years old, and was but thirty-eight. 
 
 She curtseyed to the visitors, and then, after purs- 
 ing her lips and knitting her brow, she replied to her 
 father that Miss Armstrong could have the spare 
 room over the sitting-room. 
 
 " Can I have a bedroom? " said Hardy. 
 
 Bax mused, looking at his daughter, and then 
 said, " Not unless you sleeps along with me." 
 
 " With you ? " laughed Hardy, looking at his 
 stomach. " How much of you lies in bed all at 
 once? That'll do for me," said he, and he jerked 
 his head at a wide hair-sofa. 
 
 The father, the kitten, and the daughter looked a 
 little strangely at Hardy and Julia Armstrong, as 
 though before proceeding they wanted to see things 
 in a clearer light. Hardy understanding this, spoke 
 out with the bluntness of a sailor. 
 
 " Look here, Bax," said he, " I'm going to Lon- 
 don to join my ship. I was bound away to-night, 
 but on the road I fell in with this young lady, who 
 lay in a swoon." 
 
 " Oh, dear, poor thing ! " groaned Miss Bax. 
 
 " She came to, and I brought her here after learn-
 
 $ Julia Armstrong $ 25 
 
 ing that she was leaving her home for good on 
 account of the barbarous behaviour of her step- 
 mother " 
 
 " Oh, I know, I know," interrupted Miss Bax. 
 
 " She was walking to catch the train I was bound 
 by; she is not in a fit state to travel, Bax. You can 
 see that, ma'am ; therefore she shall sup under this 
 comfortable old roof, and take the rest she needs in 
 the room you offer her. Her train leaves at ten in 
 the morning, and we will take it." 
 
 The kitten purred as it fretted Bax's cheek. Bax 
 said, " It's all right, Mr. Hardy, and you shall be 
 made comfortable. What 'ull you 'ave for supper? " 
 
 What would be better than some cold ham and a 
 dish of eggs and bacon, a dish of sausages in mashed 
 potato, and the half of a beautiful apple tart, along 
 with a jug of real cream? And for drink there was 
 some first-class ale kept by Bax for Bax himself, for 
 he held no license, and his dealings were secret, and 
 if he took money it was a gift for a kindness. 
 
 " Will you come up-stairs and see your room, Miss 
 Armstrong, before I goes about and gets your sup- 
 per for you ? " exclaimed Miss Bax. 
 
 " Have you got no baggage ? " inquired old Bax, 
 jerking the kitten on to the table. 
 
 " It will follow me to London," said Miss Arm- 
 strong, and she rose and went up-stairs with Miss 
 Bax. 
 
 Hardy sat down upon the sofa, and Bax went to 
 work to lay the cloth. There was plenty of room 
 at that little table for two. Bax had been a gardener 
 in a great family, and had often helped the coach- 
 man, the footman, and the butler to wait. He pos- 
 sessed some good old-fashioned table apparel, and
 
 26 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <+ 
 
 before Miss Armstrong returned the room looked 
 bright and hospitable with the light of an oil lamp 
 reflected in cutlery, glass, and cruet-stand. 
 
 Julia entered, and Bax walked out. She went and 
 sat beside Hardy, and the lovely Persian kitten 
 sprang into her lap. Her hair was as beautiful as 
 her figure, and her gray eyes were full of heart and 
 meaning. You could not have called her pretty, yet 
 you were sensible of a charm in her face that had 
 nothing to do with the shape of her nose or the 
 character of her mouth. 
 
 "Do you feel better?" said Hardy. 
 
 " Much ; I never thought to find myself stopping 
 a night here. Of course, I have been the means of 
 your losing your train ? " 
 
 " To-morrow will do just as well," he answered. 
 " Where did you mean to sleep when you got to 
 London to-night ? " 
 
 " I should have found a room," she answered. 
 
 " Will they send on your luggage if you write for 
 it?" 
 
 " Father will," she replied. " Yes, he will do 
 that, but he will not write to ask me to return. 
 He does not care what becomes of me. He never 
 cared what I did when I left his house to fill a 
 situation." 
 
 Her nostrils enlarged, her eyes looked angry. A 
 little blood visited her pale cheek. Hardy's memory 
 pictured her father : a middle-sized man with pale, 
 weak eyes, a chuckling laugh like the gurgle of 
 liquor, much reference to his ships and to naval 
 things in general, a large Micawber-like indifference 
 to his existing circumstances, and a quality of talk- 
 ativeness about outside matters, such as the queen,
 
 f Julia Armstrong $> 27 
 
 the trouble at Pekin, the discovery of the North 
 Pole, which would make you think that he did not 
 know what home worries were. 
 
 " Bax," said Hardy, " may covertly send along to 
 let them know you are here." 
 
 " What of that ? " she exclaimed. " If they were 
 to send twenty men they would have to drag me to 
 move me. I would not set foot in that house again 
 if my stepmother lay dead in the gutter opposite the 
 door. It is my father's fault." 
 
 She bit her lip, stroked the kitten, and said, " Oh, 
 it is hard upon a girl to have a bad father a weak, 
 selfish, foolish father." 
 
 Here Bax came again with a tumbler full of 
 autumn flowers. He placed them in the middle 
 of the table and went out, looking nowhere, as if he 
 walked in his sleep; but whilst the door lay open 
 they heard the spitting of the frying-pan. 
 
 " What are you going to do when you get to 
 London ? " said Hardy. 
 
 " I mean to find a situation on board a ship," she 
 answered. 
 
 " What situation do you expect to find ? " 
 
 " I shall try to get a post as stewardess, or as an 
 attendant upon a sick person. I cannot pay my 
 passage out even in the steerage, therefore I must 
 work." 
 
 " Now, Miss Armstrong," said Hardy, stroking 
 the kitten's head on her lap, " it is impossible for me 
 to be rude to you because I want to be, and mean to 
 be, your friend." She looked at him swiftly, and her 
 eyes drooped. " Do not misjudge any questions I 
 may put to you. How much money have you got ? " 
 
 " Seven pounds, twelve shillings, and " she
 
 28 + The Mate of the Good Ship York +> 
 
 drew out a little purse, opened it, counted some 
 coppers, and added, " fourpence." 
 
 " What is that money going to do for you in 
 London ? " said Hardy, after a pause of pity. 
 
 " It will support me," she answered, " until I have 
 obtained a situation on board a ship." 
 
 " Situations for girls on board ships are very few," 
 said he. " What part of the world do you want to 
 sail for?" 
 
 " Anywhere, anywhere," she replied. " But it 
 must be to some place where I can get a living." 
 
 " It would not do to sail for China," he exclaimed. 
 "India doesn't provide much for people whose wants 
 are yours. It must be the Great Pacific colonies. 
 Aren't there agents and institutions which help 
 young girls to get away across the sea? This we 
 will inquire into when we arrive in London." 
 
 She looked at him gratefully, and was about to 
 speak, but was interrupted by Miss Bax, who 
 staggered in with a tray load.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 BAX'S FARM 
 
 GEORGE HARDY and Miss Julia Armstrong sat 
 down to supper at the little round table ; Bax lurked 
 as if he would wait ; Hardy said they could manage 
 very well without him, and the pair fell to. The 
 window was open, and all the rich, decaying per- 
 fumes of the autumn evening floated into the 
 atmosphere, and sweetened it with the incense 
 of the night. 
 
 Hardy looked at his companion, and felt again the 
 delight he used to take in the contemplation of her 
 shape. The same old suggestion was in her that 
 of the Vivandiere. But why? He could not have 
 explained, and neither can I. Every movement was 
 full of beauty and piquancy, and she wore her hair 
 parted a little on one side. 
 
 " Is your bedroom comfortable? " asked Hardy. 
 
 " A sweet, old-fashioned little room," she said, 
 " and the bed's a four-poster. It has curtain rings, 
 and if I tremble in bed they will rattle, and I shall 
 think it the death-tick, which I hate to hear. Will 
 that sofa make a comfortable bed for you ? " 
 
 " You are asking a sailor that question," he an- 
 swered. " I would be glad to carry it to sea with 
 me, and sleep all around the world in it. Have you 
 written a farewell letter to your father? " 
 
 29
 
 30 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 " No ; I have left him as a spirit might, in utter 
 silence. His wife will not let him trouble himself. 
 When the time comes for locking up the bolt will be 
 shot, and he will fill his pipe and fill his glass, and 
 say to his wife that he is afraid there is some truth in 
 the story that Mr. Gubbins was telling him about 
 Miss Cornflower and the Congregational minister. 
 That is the sort of interest he will take in my not 
 turning up." 
 
 She frowned, and put down her knife and fork, 
 and seemed as if she did not mean to go on 
 eating. Hardy poured out a glass of frothing ale. 
 It was a fine sparkling ale, better than champagne, 
 and looked an elegant drink, fit for red lips in the 
 thin glass it brimmed with foam. She took it and 
 drank. 
 
 " It is hard for any girl to be in want," said 
 Hardy ; " but there is no distress to equal that of 
 the lady who is in poverty. What, in God's name, 
 can she do? She is hot wanted in the kitchen, and 
 if I were she I would rather sell matches than be a 
 governess." 
 
 " It is the well-to-do lady who makes it hard for 
 the poor lady," exclaimed the girl. " Two years 
 ago I got a situation as nurse to attend an aged sick 
 woman she was eighty. She lived with a lady. 
 You would think this person would have known 
 how to treat the daughter of an officer in the navy, 
 who was too poor to maintain her as a lady. Mr. 
 Hardy, she used to call me Armstrong, as though 
 I was her housemaid. I had my meals separate. 
 When they went away for a change I was not good 
 enough to sit in the carriage ; they made me sit on 
 the box, and the coachman, in the genial manner of
 
 S Bax's Farm $ 31 
 
 the mews, asked me if I was the new maid, and if 
 my name was Jemima. When we arrived the lady 
 told me I must not sit with them if company came, 
 as my presence might be objected to. I went to my 
 bedroom, and kept in it till I was called out, and 
 then returned to it." 
 
 " It is time you cleared out," said Hardy. " The 
 soft hearts seem to be found at sea nowadays; at 
 all events, they are not so scarce there as fresh eggs," 
 said he, helping himself. " Your intentions are to 
 get abroad and seek a berth abroad. I should like 
 to read the map of them. You have saved seven 
 pounds odd, and you arrive in London at night, and 
 you don't know where to go. Next day you ask 
 your way where ? To the docks ; but what docks ? 
 London, Millwall, East India, West India, and so 
 on. You enter a forest without a compass. Now 
 what are you going to do? " 
 
 " I meant to go on board ship after ship," she 
 answered, with spirit, " and ask anybody I saw if 
 there was a berth for me on board." 
 
 " Did you ever see a large full-rigged ship in all 
 your life? " he inquired, smiling. 
 
 " Never," she replied, emphatically. 
 
 " Go to the docks, and you'll see hundreds, and 
 there won't be one that wants you." 
 
 " What is the name of your ship ? " she asked. 
 
 " The York." 
 
 " Where is she going to ? " 
 
 " She is bound to Australia." 
 
 " Is there no place for me in that ship? " she said. 
 She looked at him piteously, though her natural 
 grace of coquetry broke through all the same, with 
 the planting of her hands upon her hips, and the 
 way she side-dropped her head at him.
 
 32 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <+ 
 
 " We carry no stewardess, no females, no passen- 
 gers," he answered. " The captain is a stranger to 
 me. No, my ship is of no use to you," he continued, 
 after a pause. " You must call with me upon some 
 shipping people. There may be a vacancy for a 
 stewardess. But suppose the ship is sailing for 
 India?" 
 
 She gazed at him a little vacantly. 
 
 " We shall find some means of getting abroad," 
 he went on, running a note of cheerfulness into his 
 voice, for he thought by the look in the girl's eyes 
 that she was beginning to bend on signals of dis- 
 tress, which would be hoisted in a pearly downpour 
 presently. " At all events, you can't be worse off 
 than you are, and somebody says that when you ave 
 at the bottom of the wheel the next revolution must 
 hoist you." 
 
 They, talked in this strain until they had supped, 
 then Hardy, not seeing a bell, opened the door and 
 shouted to Miss Bax to clear away. When the door 
 was opened they could hear voices in the back room 
 beyond, and a gush of Cavendish tobacco smoke 
 came in. Some friends of Bax had called in a 
 casual way by the back entrance, across the fields, 
 which meant several drinks, clouds of tobacco, and 
 all the gossip of the social sphere which Bax and 
 his friends adorned. When Miss Bax had cleared 
 the table she placed a bottle of whisky upon it at 
 the request of Hardy, also cold water and glasses. 
 She then said there was no hurry to go to bed. 
 Father did not go to bed until eleven, and she 
 left them with a smile as though they were a young 
 married couple spending their honeymoon in Bax's 
 farm, instead of one of them being an honest,
 
 f Bax's Farm * 33 
 
 generous-hearted young sailor intent on doing his 
 dead best to rescue a young English lady from bitter 
 privation, and perhaps from miserable disgrace ; and 
 the other of them being a broken-hearted girl hurry- 
 ing from a home of tyranny and drink, a home of 
 one base nature, and of one spiritless one (which is 
 likewise a baseness), with a future as dark as the 
 night that lay outside, in whdse funeral tapestries 
 her imagination alone could have beheld the stir- 
 rings of the life that was to give her content and 
 liberty, in whose impenetrable depths she found no 
 more than a minute gleam of light from Hardy's 
 strange and chanceful encounter with her while she 
 lay in a swoon deep as death. 
 
 With her consent the sailor lighted a pipe. The 
 girl sat in a chair opposite to him, her head a little 
 on one side, hands on her hips, all in the old, fasci- 
 nating, coquettish, incommunicable way. Outside 
 the night lay in a thin gloom, and they saw the 
 stars shining above the trees. The hush of the 
 sleeping land was in the air. You heard nothing 
 but the silver tinkling of a natural fall of water that 
 ran down the hillside, and fell purely in a stone bowl 
 for men, horses, and dogs to drink. 
 
 "You are a plucky girl," said Hardy; "but I 
 think you are attempting more than you understand. 
 You talk, for instance, of going to the workhouse. 
 You are the last girl in the world to go to the work- 
 house. Think of dying in a workhouse," he contin- 
 ued, whilst she watched him without smiling. 
 " Creatures bend over your bed, and say, ' Isn't she 
 gone yet?' That's the sympathy of the workhouse." 
 
 " I want to get out of England, abroad, and be 
 independent," said Julia.
 
 34 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 He looked at an old clock upon the mantelpiece. 
 The hour was about eight. He asked her if she 
 would have some whisky and water, and on her 
 declining, he mixed a draught for himself, then 
 went to the door and called to Bax, leaving the 
 girl to wonder what he meant to do. The farmer 
 arrived. 
 
 " Bax," said the sailor, " you have given us a 
 capital supper." 
 
 " I'm much obliged to you, sir," answered Bax. 
 
 " This is an excellent whisky," continued Hardy, 
 " and I drink your health " here he sipped 
 " and the health of your worthy daughter " here 
 he sipped again " in your very hospitable gift." 
 
 Bax grinned, and said, " We make no charge. 
 You're my guests, and you're welcome." 
 
 " Bax," said Hardy, " haven't you a spring cart?" 
 
 " Yes," answered Bax. 
 
 "Got a horse?" 
 
 " Got a pretty little mare." 
 
 " Will you drive me over to Captain Armstrong's 
 as soon as possible to fetch this young lady's 
 luggage?" 
 
 Julia started in her chair, and said, " Don't 
 trouble, Mr. Hardy. My father will send the box 
 on to me when he gets my address in London." 
 
 " How d'ye know he will ? " inquired Hardy. 
 
 " Ah ! " murmured Bax. 
 
 " Suppose the stepmother declines to let the box 
 go ? " said Hardy. " Now you'll want all the clothes 
 you've got and can get, Miss Armstrong, if you mean 
 to colonise. Bax, bear a hand, my lad; clap your 
 mare to the cart, and report when you're ready." 
 
 He spoke as if he was on the quarter-deck of
 
 $ Bax's Farm $ 35 
 
 a ship and making the sailors jump for their 
 lives, and Bax went out, saying, " I'll not be ten 
 minutes." 
 
 " How good you are to me ! " exclaimed Julia, 
 gathering the side of her pocket-handkerchief un- 
 consciously, and looking at him with eyes that 
 seemed to tremble with emotion. " What should I 
 have done had you not found me? I might have 
 died under that hedge." 
 
 " Let me see," said Hardy ; " how far off from 
 here does your father live ? " 
 
 She reflected and answered, " Quite six miles." 
 
 " Well, we shall be back with your box before ten. 
 Don't sit up ; you want all the rest you can get. To- 
 morrow will be full of business." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Julia, " I hope there will be no 
 trouble. Father may He won't like you to know 
 that I have run away. He may insist upon return- 
 ing with you, or coming here." 
 
 "If he is at home he may, and we'll give him a 
 lift with pleasure." 
 
 " I should refuse to meet him," cried the girl, 
 standing up in a sudden passion of indignation. 
 " He has seen me suffer and has looked on. If he 
 comes here it is not for me, but for that" and she 
 pointed to the bottle of whisky. 
 
 " You shall have your box of clothes, anyhow," 
 said Hardy, smoking coolly and looking at the girl ; 
 and three minutes after he had said this Miss Bax 
 came in, and reported that " father and the cart was 
 at the gate." 
 
 " Don't let Miss Armstrong sit up," said Hardy. 
 " Do those chaps back talk very loud? " 
 
 " When they arguefy," answered Miss Bax.
 
 36 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 " They're wrangling over the age of the queen 
 now." 
 
 " Well, when Miss Armstrong goes to bed silence 
 them," said Hardy, " for I want the lady to sleep 
 well. We shall meet at breakfast," said he, turning 
 to Julia and taking her hand. 
 
 " I shall wait up for you. How could I sleep? " 
 she replied. 
 
 He smiled, but answered nothing, filled and re- 
 lighted his pipe, and walked out. 
 
 The drive was pleasant, down-hill. The road 
 stretched before them like satin with the dust of it, 
 and many spacious groups of trees lifted their mo- 
 tionless shapes against the sky-line of the tall land 
 and the stars twinkling above it. Specks of light in 
 houses reposed like glow worms in the deep shades 
 of the valley and up the acclivities, but the river 
 streamed in blackness, and the lamps of a small 
 town past the railway station were lost behind the 
 bend. 
 
 Hardy stared at his father's house as they drove 
 past, always in darkness on this side, but he knew 
 there would be lights in the windows which over- 
 looked the grounds that sank toward the river. 
 
 The house Captain Armstrong lived in was two 
 miles further on round the corner, and made one of 
 about a dozen little villas and cottages, including a 
 church and a public-house. It was a very small 
 cottage, thatched; but its sun-bright windows, its 
 handsome door and brass knocker the taste, in 
 short of the man who had built it in years gone by 
 made it very fit for the occupation of a gentle- 
 man. It was sunk deep in a broad piece of garden 
 land, and the apple-trees, whose boughs were laden, 
 scented the still night air refreshingly.
 
 *f Bax's Farm $ 37 
 
 " Here we be," said Bax, drawing up, and the 
 sailor sprang off the cart, and walked down the path 
 to the door with the brass knocker. 
 
 He hammered briskly, and tugged at a metal 
 knob which shivered a little bell into ecstasies of 
 alarm. A small dog barked shrilly with terror and 
 hate, and in a minute the door was opened by a 
 servant, past whom the small dog fled, and tried to 
 marry his teeth in Hardy's right boot. A kick 
 rushed the little beast back into the passage, and 
 Hardy said to the servant, " I have called for Miss 
 Armstrong's trunk." 
 
 " Oh, indeed," she said, looking behind her. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," he exclaimed. " I'm in a hurry. 
 I've six miles to go. Is Captain Armstrong in?" 
 
 " No," was the answer, and as the servant spoke 
 a door on the right of the passage was thrown open, 
 and the figure of a stout woman stood between 
 Hardy and the flame of the oil-float which illumi- 
 nated the passage at the extremity. 
 
 " Who is it ? and what does he want ? " said the 
 stout figure, approaching by two or three paces. 
 
 " I am Mr. Hardy, son of your husband's doctor," 
 was the reply, " and I have called for Miss 
 Armstrong's trunk. It stands ready corded in her 
 bedroom, and I am in a hurry." 
 
 "Where is Miss Armstrong going?" said the 
 stout figure, who was indeed Mrs. Armstrong. 
 
 " To the ends of the earth to escape you," he 
 answered. " Bax," he roared, " fling your reins 
 over the gate-post, and come and lend me a hand to 
 ship the box in your cart." 
 
 " The box shall not leave this house without Cap- 
 tain Armstrong's permission," said Mrs. Armstrong,
 
 38 + The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 who, poor as the light was, you could see carried 
 a great deal of colour in her face of a streaky or 
 venous nature; her eyes were small, and gazed 
 with rapid winks as though they snapped at you as 
 you snap the hammer of a revolver; her bust was 
 immense; her black hair was smoothed like streaks 
 of paint down her cheeks and round her ears, and 
 she wore a cap with something in it that nodded, 
 giving more significance to her words than they 
 needed. 
 
 " Where is Captain Armstrong? " said the sailor. 
 
 " Out," was the reply. 
 
 " He'll not care whether I take it or leave it." He 
 could not bring himself to speak even civilly to her. 
 " Whilst you fetch him we'll tranship it, and the 
 captain can get in and argue the point whilst we 
 drive away. Come along, Bax. Sally, show us the 
 road to the young lady's bedroom." 
 
 " Maria," exclaimed Mrs. Armstrong, cold and 
 bitter, " go and knock on Constable Rogers's door, 
 and tell him to come here at once." 
 
 " Shall I fetch the master also ? " said Maria, 
 quivering in her figure in the hot anticipation of 
 rushing out. 
 
 " No, the walk is too long. I want you back, and 
 the constable." 
 
 The girl shot up the walk. 
 
 " Bax," said Hardy, " come along. We'll easily 
 find the room." 
 
 Bax hung in the wind. 
 
 "What's the constable a-going to say?" he 
 muttered. " Won't it be breaking in if we enters 
 without the missis's leave? " 
 
 Hardy looked at him, and then stepped to the 
 foot of the staircase.
 
 *f> Bax's Farm ^ 39 
 
 " You dare not go up-stairs, sir ! " said Mrs. Arm- 
 strong, in a voice that trembled. 
 
 Hardy mounted. 
 
 " The constable shall lock you up," shrieked the 
 enraged woman. 
 
 " Coom down, coom down, Mr. Hardy," sang out 
 Bax. " The constable'll make it right." 
 
 Hardy pulled out a box of wax matches and 
 struck one. The landing was in darkness, and he 
 wanted to see. He guessed the girl's bedroom by 
 intuition, opened the door, and saw the trunk a 
 small one seized the handle, and dragged it to the 
 head of the staircase. It was lighter than a sea 
 chest, and with a heave he settled it on his shoulder, 
 and went creaking down-stairs. 
 
 " I defy you to take that box out of my house 
 without my leave," yelled Mrs. Armstrong. 
 
 Hardy seemed cool, but his spirits were in a blaze. 
 He regarded the sending for a constable as an atro- 
 cious act of insolence, and he walked past the 
 woman, not in the smallest degree caring whether 
 he plunged the corner of the box into her head or 
 not. She took care, however, to give him a wide 
 berth, and he passed through the house door, whilst 
 the little dog barked furiously at a safe distance at 
 the end of the passage. 
 
 " Give me a hand with this," said he to Bax. 
 " This is no business of the constable. The box 
 belongs to a young lady who wants it, and I intend 
 that she shall have it." 
 
 " Mr. Hardy," answered Bax, " I'd rather not 
 meddle with the box till the constable cooms; he'll 
 be 'ere in a minute. He allus smokes his pipe by his 
 fireside at this hour. If it should be the wrong 
 box "
 
 40 * The Mate of the Good Ship York + 
 
 " It's the right box," exclaimed Hardy, standing 
 with the trunk on his shoulder. 
 
 " I'd. rather wait for Rogers to make it all right," 
 said Bax. 
 
 Hardy sent a sea blessing at his head, and without 
 another word walked rapidly to the cart, threw the 
 box in, took the reins off the gate, sprang on to 
 the seat, and drove off. 
 
 " Stop, sir; stop, for God's sake! " shouted Bax, 
 beginning to run. But he was too fat to run. He 
 was blowing hard when he gained the road, and 
 stood staring after his cart. Hardy whipped the 
 mare into a gallop, and gained the farm in half 
 the time that Bax would have taken to measure 
 the ground. He drew up at the gate, secured the 
 horse by the reins, and, shouldering the trunk, 
 marched to the door, and was admitted by Miss 
 Bax. 
 
 " Where's father? " was her first cry. 
 
 " I left him enjoying a yarn with Mrs. Arm- 
 strong," answered Hardy, thrusting with the trunk 
 into the room, where Julia was still sitting just 
 as he had left her. " There are your clothes, Miss 
 Armstrong," said the sailor, lowering the box on to 
 the floor. 
 
 " Father's come to no 'urt, I hope? " said Miss 
 Bax, addressing Miss Armstrong. 
 
 Hardy related exactly the story of his repulse 
 by the insolent stepmother, his bringing the box 
 down-stairs alone, Bax's fear of the law, and so 
 forth. 
 
 " And now," said he, " as you've not gone to bed, 
 Miss Armstrong, I'll sit down and keep you com- 
 pany, and smoke one more pipe, and wait for the 
 constable."
 
 ^ Bax's Farm f 41 
 
 " Well, if father's all right," said Miss Bax, " he'll 
 be here with the constable, and soon, I hope; but 
 it's all up-hill, and his wind don't favour him. I've 
 got help at the back, and will put the mare up," 
 and thus speaking she passed out, and left the young 
 couple alone. 
 
 " So she actually sent for a constable ! " exclaimed 
 Julia, whilst Hardy filled his pipe, and looked at the 
 grog bottle on the table. " Could you imagine a 
 more horrible woman? " 
 
 " Here are the goods anyhow," said Hardy, strik- 
 ing a match. " It's your box, of course I mean, 
 I've made no mistake, I hope." 
 
 " Certainly it is my box," she exclaimed, slightly 
 flushing and poising her hands on her hips, and 
 dropping her head at him in a posture that bright- 
 ened his eyes with delight, " and all I possess in this 
 wide world is in it." 
 
 " I would not like to be the constable if he touches 
 it or is even insolent over it," said Hardy, stretching 
 backwards his broad shoulders, with a glance at 
 himself in the little fly-protected mirror. He then 
 poured out some whisky and water, and sat down 
 near Julia. 
 
 " She did not express any astonishment at my 
 leaving home? " said the girl. 
 
 " The dog did most of the talk," he answered, 
 " and made for my choicest corn," and he looked 
 at his boot, which exhibited the indent of the beast's 
 teeth. " How your father could have " 
 
 " Was she drunk ? " asked Julia. 
 
 " I dare say she was. Some people get drunk 
 without showing it. Miss Armstrong, I am no 
 longer surprised that you should run away." 

 
 42 *$ The Mate of the Good Ship York f> 
 
 She smiled, but with mingled sadness and bitter- 
 ness, and said, " If my father comes in with Bax 
 and the constable, I shall walk out, and I beg you 
 to give me your protection, Mr. Hardy, and to save 
 me from seeing him." 
 
 Hardy bowed, but made no answer. He was a 
 man of careless thoughts and many heedless views 
 in all sorts of directions, a sailor, in short, whose 
 horizon was salt and limited, yet he could not help 
 feeling shocked at the extravagance of fear and 
 dislike which the half -pay captain had by bitter 
 neglect and a Christless marriage excited in the 
 breast of a girl who seemed a true-hearted, heroic 
 young woman, beautiful of figure, and with a face 
 of romantic interest. 
 
 " Can the constable do anything if he comes ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered the sailor, " he can walk 
 out. In what law book is it written that a man 
 may not possess his own? That is yours," said 
 he, pointing to the trunk, " and if Constable Rogers 
 touches it we'll have him before the magistrates, 
 of whom, by the way, my father is one." 
 
 He looked at her very thoughtfully, and she 
 looked at him till her gray eyes drooped to her lap. 
 The Persian kitten had left the room, and she had 
 nothing to toy with but her handkerchief. Now, 
 by the expression of Hardy's face, you could have 
 said that he fastened his eyes upon her, not out of 
 feeling, nor out of the sense of being alone with 
 her, nor of the enjoyment of the spectacle of her 
 matchless figure, but because he was maturing 
 thoughts concerning her well-being. He had cer- 
 tainly a most honest face, and you tasted the man-
 
 < Bax's Farm <+ 43 
 
 liness of his nature in each utterance and in every 
 smile. 
 
 " I want to talk to you," said he, " about our 
 arrival in London. I must get you close to the 
 docks. I'll put you in the way of making a few 
 inquiries whilst I am busy on board my ship ; mean- 
 while I shall be asking questions." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Hardy, what should I have done had 
 I not met you?" she cried, in an irrepressible out- 
 burst of gratitude, and again he saw tears in her 
 eyes, for she had lived hard and had fared hard 
 for some years now, and kindness easily broke her 
 down, as one long divorced from home will melt 
 on her return to the sound of the music that her 
 mother loved and sang to her. 
 
 " Do you know London? " said the sailor. 
 
 " I was never in London," she answered. 
 
 " Have you ever seen a ship? " 
 
 " I came home in a ship from India," she re- 
 plied, " but I was too young to remember the 
 vessel." 
 
 " You will not like the East End of London," 
 said Hardy. " I don't know why sailors should 
 make the places they live in dirty, yet it is true 
 that after leaving Whitechapel the closer you draw 
 to the docks, the grimier life looks. Jack has spent 
 his money, you see, and is going away tipsy and 
 ragged, and what he leaves behind him is anything 
 but sweet, and they serve him as though he were 
 a Yahoo. Look at his lodging-house and his board- 
 ing-house, at the dens in which he revolves to the 
 ghastly notes of a black fiddler, with objects fit 
 only to be lectured upon, or for the show of a 
 Barnum. Take his line of railway, the Blackwall
 
 44 *+ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 line; the farmers wouldn't send their swine to mar- 
 ket in the carriages, and so the sailor travels in 
 them." 
 
 " How long have you been at sea, Mr. Hardy ? " 
 
 " I went to sea when I was fourteen years old, 
 and I am now twenty-six." 
 
 " In twelve years you have become a mate ? " 
 
 " Chief mate," he said. 
 
 " Oh," she exclaimed, " what would I give if you 
 carried a stewardess, and your captain would con- 
 sent to take me ! " 
 
 "I wish it could be contrived," said he, in his plain, 
 straight way, " but owners never ship people th^y 
 don't want. Even if I had influence, an objection 
 would be raised that you were the only woman on 
 board." 
 
 " But I have read," she exclaimed, " that a cap- 
 tain takes his wife to sea, and she may be the only 
 woman in the ship." 
 
 " Ay, but she's the captain's wife," he answered, 
 with a smile, " and if she were a shipload of females 
 she couldn't be more." 
 
 They then began to talk of London and the East 
 End, of a convenient part to take a lodging in, how 
 it was certain that she must obtain a berth some- 
 where or somehow before Hardy sailed ; and whilst 
 they conversed the door opened, and Bax entered, 
 purple with exercise and beer. 
 
 "Well," said he, breathing comfortably, as though 
 he had refreshed himself before entering with rest 
 and ale, "that was a fine trick of yourn, Mr. Hardy." 
 
 " Never mind about that, Bax," exclaimed the 
 young sailor, cutting him short in his peremptory 
 quarter-deck way. " Where's the constable ? "
 
 $ Bax's Farm * 45 
 
 "He hain't cooming," answered Bax. "He knows 
 the difference between climbing up a hill and climb- 
 ing into bed." 
 
 " Sit down, Bax, and take some whisky," said 
 Hardy, both he and Julia laughing ; and after wait- 
 ing for the farmer to mingle some whisky and water 
 and pull a chair, he said, " Tell us what passed, 
 Bax." 
 
 " Well," began Bax, " it was just after you'd 
 trotted out of sight, with me hallering, being afraid 
 of the law I was, when oop cooms the maid 'long 
 with Constable Rogers. ' Oh, Mr. Rogers,' sings 
 out Mrs. Armstrong, who was standin' in her door, 
 * the doctor's son's been 'ere in Farmer Bax's cart, 
 and busted into this house, and gone off with my 
 stepdarter's troonk agin my commands.' ' Where's 
 your stepdarter ? ' said the constable, not speaking 
 overcivil blamed if I thinks he likes the woman, 
 and he didn't love her the better for routing of him 
 out. ' I don't know,' answered Mrs. Armstrong. 
 ' Yes, you do,' says I. ' She's opp stopping in my 
 house along with the gent as fetched her luggage.' 
 ' What do you want me to do ? ' says Rogers. ' Your 
 duty,' answers Mrs. Armstrong, 'twixt a snap of her 
 teeth that was like cocking a goon at him. ' What 
 do constables usually do when they're called in to 
 houses which have been busted into and goods 
 taken, otherwise stolen, agin orders ? ' Here Bax 
 laughed slowly, as though recollecting something in 
 this passage of words which he could not communi- 
 cate, but which, nevertheless, he could enjoy. ' But 
 there was no busting in here that I can see,' says 
 Rogers, looking at me ; ' you knocked and rung, 
 didn't you ? ' ' Why, yes, of course we did/ says I,
 
 46 * The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 ' and the gent spoke the lady as civil as though she 
 had been a maid of hanner or the queen herself.' 
 ' Oh, what a liar, what a beast you must be ! ' says 
 Mrs. Armstrong, screaming like. ' He forces his 
 way oop-stairs, Mr. Constable, and brings down the 
 box on his shoulder, me standing at the foot of the 
 steps, and telling him not to touch it.' ' Was he sent 
 by the party as the box belongs to ? ' asks the con- 
 stable. ' Certainly he was, Mr. Rogers,' says I. 
 ' They're going away to-morrow by the early train, 
 and she naturally wanted her box to take with her.' 
 ' There's nothing for me 'ere to interfere with that I 
 can see,' says Rogers, drawing himself up, and 
 puttin' on the face of a judge delivering a vardick. 
 ' The lady has a right to her own. Your door was 
 knocked on civilly, and the gent she asked to bring it 
 away did so, and there's northen for me to meddle 
 with ; ' and with that, without saying good night, he 
 turns his back, and walks into the road, me at his 
 side, and she hallering arter him that he didn't do his 
 duty, and she'd lodge a complaint agin him, and 'ave 
 the place cleared of a stoopid old fool. ' She's like 
 my cat when he begins to talk to Springett's cat over 
 the wall,' says Mr. Rogers. ' I wish the young lady 
 well out of it, I do. Good-night, Mr. Bax.' So I 
 sets off 'ome, and that's just what all 'appened." 
 
 Julia, though she had laughed and often smiled, 
 now sat looking subdued with grief and disgrace. It 
 was horrible to the feelings of a lady to possess such 
 a stepmother as the wretch who owned the little dog 
 that bit, and horrible also to hear her represented 
 and dramatised in the language of Bax in the pres- 
 ence of the man who, as God had willed it, seemed 
 the only friend she possessed in this wide world.
 
 $> Bax's Farm f 47 
 
 Nevertheless, they continued talking until eleven 
 o'clock, by which hour Bax had grown too maudlin 
 for human companionship. 
 
 Julia went to bed, and Bax rolled through the 
 door to the back premises to send his daughter to 
 the young sailor. All that he requested was a rug, a 
 blanket, and a pillow, and then when the house 
 was locked up, and Miss Bax had bid him good- 
 night, he turned down the lamp, snugged himself 
 on the sofa, and lay listening to Miss Julia's 
 restless pacing overhead. There was sleeplessness 
 in her walk; but the delicate tramp of her tireless 
 feet ceased at last. He thought of her in her lone- 
 liness, and pity moved his heart, and he vowed 
 that he would see her in safety, buoyed by a full 
 promise of independence in the future, before he 
 left England. 
 
 The window stood open a little way, and all night- 
 sounds were clear. The stream babbled in the road, 
 and its voice was like the syllabling of the perfumes 
 stealing darkling down into the valley. He heard 
 the distant hooting of owls like the crying of idiot 
 boys, one seeking the other, and the thin thunder 
 of the distant railway was a night-sound, together 
 with the shuddering of the dry autumn leaves upon 
 the boughs as though the trees shivered to the chill 
 of the passing moan of air. And then Hardy fell 
 asleep.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE EAST INDIA DOCK ROAD 
 
 AT about two o'clock on the following day a cab 
 of the old type, with rattling windows, straw as 
 though fresh from the tramp of swine, a wheezing 
 cabman, encumbered with capes, shawls, and rugs, 
 with nothing but a drunken nose glowing under the 
 sallow brim of a rain-bronzed hat this old cab, 
 with a corded trunk hopping on top of it betwixt the 
 iron fencing, drew up at a house in the East India 
 Dock Road. 
 
 Mr. Hardy, the gentleman whom we left asleep on 
 the sofa in Bax's farm, got out, leaving Miss Julia 
 Armstrong sitting in a cab, and knocked on the 
 door, which was opened in a few moments by a little 
 woman in the clothes of a widow, clean and neat in 
 person, with a wistful eye which softened her face 
 into a look of kindness. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Mr. Hardy," she immediately 
 said. " I got your letter, sir. Your room's quite 
 ready." 
 
 " Well, I can't say I'm glad to see you, Mrs. 
 Brierley, because you know what seeing you means 
 to me. Did your husband love the stowing job, and 
 the hauling out through the gates, with a crowd of 
 
 drunken Dagos on the fok'sle, and the dockmaster 
 
 48
 
 East India Dock Road $ 49 
 
 bursting blood-vessels in expostulations to the mud 
 pilot?" 
 
 She seemed to smile, but her attention was else- 
 where. She had caught sight of Julia in the cab, 
 and was dodging Mr. Hardy, who stood right in the 
 way, to get a better sight of her. 
 
 " I want a lodging for that young lady you are 
 trying to see," said Hardy. " Now say at once that 
 you have a very comfortable bedroom for her in this 
 house." 
 
 " You don't tell me that you are married, sir?" 
 exclaimed Mrs. Brierley, putting this question just 
 as she might put her eye to a keyhole before 
 answering. 
 
 " No, nor keeping company with her, as you peo- 
 ple call it," he replied. " It is a romantic story, and 
 you shall hear the whole of it, provided that you 
 can accommodate her with a bedroom, otherwise 
 mum ! " 
 
 " Mr. Hardy," said the widow, with some earnest- 
 ness, " you've long used this house. You knew my 
 poor husband. My struggle has been to keep it a 
 thoroughly respectable home for them who patronise 
 me, and you'll not take it amiss, sir, I'm sure, if I ask 
 you, is she a lady you can recommend on your 
 honour as a sailor man? " 
 
 " I swear, Mrs. Brierley," exclaimed Hardy, with 
 great feeling, " that she is a pure, charming, heart- 
 broken lady, the daughter of a naval officer, whose 
 sword was once at the service of his country." 
 
 " Then, sir, I have a very comfortable bedroom," 
 answered the widow. " How long will she be 
 wanting it for? " 
 
 " She shall engage it by the week," he answered,
 
 50 The Mate of the Good Ship York <* 
 
 and walked to the door of the cab. " Tumble down, 
 my lad, off that perch of yours," he shouted to the 
 cabman, who seemed to have fallen asleep, " and 
 carry that trunk into the house." 
 
 Both pavements were filled with people, walking 
 the everlasting walk of the London streets. Num- 
 bers had the appearance of seamen, some of them 
 lurched in liquor; there were numerous black and 
 chocolate faces, here and there a turban; grimy 
 women flitted past in old shawls and rakishly- 
 perched bonnets ; roistering young wenches flaunted 
 past with feathers in their hats, with cheeks deeply 
 coloured, with yellow brows adorned with jet-like 
 love-locks ; and chill as it was, children went by with 
 naked feet, and the shuddering flesh of their backs 
 showed through their rags, filthy-eyed, hatless, and 
 all the glory they had trailed from their God had 
 died out in the atmosphere of fog, which added bulk 
 to the thunderous omnibus, and made the fleet 
 hansom a shadow down the road. 
 
 " The landlady," said Hardy, putting his head 
 into the cab, " has a comfortable bedroom at your 
 disposal. We cannot do better. She is a thoroughly 
 respectable woman, the widow of a master-mariner, 
 who commanded brigs, and so on." 
 
 He opened the door, and Julia jumped out, and 
 they went together into the narrow passage with 
 the cabman and the trunk following them. 
 
 The landlady, curtseying her greeting to Julia, 
 admitted them into her own private room, which 
 was, in short, the front parlour. The cabman was 
 paid, and went away looking at the shillings in the 
 palm' of his hand. In a very short time it was settled 
 that Julia was to have the use of this parlour for
 
 f x East India Dock Road <& 51 
 
 her meals, and there would be no extra charge. The 
 only other lodgers in the house were a sea captain 
 and his wife. 
 
 The parlour was worth a pause and a look round. 
 No apartment was ever more nautically equipped. 
 The very clock was a dial fitted into the mainsail 
 of a brass ship; the candlesticks on the mantelpiece 
 represented mermaids; the walls were embellished 
 with pictures of ships ahd those carvings which 
 sailors delight in : ships on a wind, half their ghastly 
 white canvas showing against the board, and the 
 water very sloppy and fearfully blue; there were 
 models of ships, and an old galleon in ivory stood 
 under glass on a table in the window. A boy's 
 heart would have beat high in this room. It was 
 full of curiosities ; artful carvings by whalemen, out 
 of the bone or teeth of the mammoth of the sea; 
 queer findings along shore under the Southern 
 Cross, weapons of cannibals, heathenish jars, 
 earthen vessels which had been the sepulchres of 
 the remains of broiled whites. 
 
 After a little talk Mrs. Brierley took Julia up- 
 stairs to her bedroom. Hardy, who had often before 
 viewed the curiosities, wandered again round the 
 room, but his mind was musing over other things, 
 and soon he came to a stand at the window. The 
 lookout was gloomy and grimy; opposite were a 
 tobacconist, a house in which a stevedore lived, two 
 lodging-houses, a pastry-cook, and a public-house. 
 There was a great deal of mud in the road, the 
 sky hung down sallow and dingy, and so close that 
 the crooked black smoke, _ working out of a hundred 
 shapes of chimney-pots, seemed to pierce it an;> 
 vanish. A change indeed from the autumn gloria
 
 52 <+ The Mate of the Good Ship York > 
 
 of the country which the couple were newly from, 
 where the hillsides, still thick with the leaves of 
 the summer, were gashed with the red fires of the 
 coming ruining winter; where the clear pale blue 
 sky sank with its faint splendour of sunshine to the 
 sharp, dark, terrace-like heights, which in their red 
 breaks and scars of autumn overlooked the valley 
 and the sheltered houses, and the quiet breast of 
 river floating under the arch of the reflected bridge. 
 
 A man, thought Hardy, accepts a large obligation 
 when he undertakes to look after a girl. But what a 
 beautiful figure she has, and her face appeals to me. 
 I cannot meet her eyes without feeling that I am in 
 love with her. Shall I be able to get her a berth 
 before I sail? If I cannot, ought I to leave her 
 alone in London with about seven pounds ten in 
 her pocket? 
 
 His brow contracted, and he hissed a tune through 
 his teeth whilst he pondered. That thoughtless 
 devil, her father, he mused, never came near Bax's 
 farm. What is it to him that his daughter has bolted 
 from her brutal home, and gone away with a young 
 fellow who, for all the beggar cares, may leave her 
 behind him in London in shame and destitution? 
 'Tis rather a tight corner, though. And he would 
 have gone on meditating but for being interrupted 
 by the entrance of Julia, followed in a respectful way 
 by the widow. 
 
 " It is a very nice bedroom," said Julia. " I shall 
 be very comfortable whilst I am here." 
 
 " I suppose you have told Mrs. Brierley all about 
 it," exclaimed Hardy, whilst Julia seated herself, 
 posturing her head with her unconscious, inimitable 
 grace, as she glanced round the sights of the
 
 f East India Dock Road $ 53 
 
 room, and resting her hands on her hips and cross- 
 ing her feet, to the undoubted admiration of the 
 widow, who had on her entrance admired her beau- 
 tiful figure. 
 
 " Yes, sir, yes," said the widow ; " and I'm truly 
 sorry for the young lady, but don't doubt she'll find 
 a berth, and do well where she's going." 
 
 " Miss Armstrong," said Hardy, " I'm not due at 
 the docks until to-morrow, and then I shall put in 
 for an afternoon off. This afternoon we shall spend 
 without troubling ourselves about anything. We 
 are human, and must eat, just as every night we 
 must put ourselves away in a frame of iron or 
 wooden pillars, covered with blankets and sheets, 
 and sleep, or else we go mad and die. There is a 
 decent eating-house not far from here; we will go 
 there and dine. You'll have tea ready for us, Mrs. 
 Brier ley, by six ; and if the evening hangs, which it 
 will, we will look in at a music-hall and purchase a 
 shilling's-worth of pure vulgarity, which to me, 
 when perfectly unaffected, is more humourous and 
 more artistically refined than much of the genteel 
 comedy of the West End theatres." 
 
 Julia laughed, and looked at the widow, who said, 
 " I don't visit the halls myself. They've got one 
 good singer at Whitechapel, I hear. He comes in 
 dressed as a coster, and brings a donkey with him 
 which he sings about, and they say it's so affecting 
 that even strong sailors cry." 
 
 " If he sang of the donkey's breakfast Jack would 
 cry more," said Hardy, and saying he would return 
 in a minute, went to his bedroom for a wash down 
 and a brush up, leaving the widow explaining to 
 Julia that the term donkey's breakfast signified the
 
 54 <+ The Mate of the Good Ship York <+> 
 
 bundle of straw which sailors who are reckless of 
 their money ashore carry on board ship with them as 
 a bed. 
 
 Whilst he was going up-stairs a man dressed in 
 blue serge, smoking a curly meerschaum pipe, came 
 out of a bedroom and passed into an apartment that 
 had been converted into a sitting-room. They 
 glanced at each other, and Hardy went up another 
 flight to his bedroom. Here he stayed a few minutes. 
 His carpet-bag had arrived before him, and in it 
 were a change of apparel, two or three shirts, brush 
 and comb, and the like. The rest of his duds were 
 in his sea-chest, which had been sent to the docks. 
 He smartened himself up and looked a manly young 
 fellow. The light of the sea was in his eye, and the 
 freshness of its breath was in his cheery expression, 
 and the colour of his cheek was warm with the 
 sun-glow. 
 
 "Are you ready?" said he to Julia; and they 
 went out, attended to the door by the widow, who 
 appeared to have taken a liking to Miss Armstrong ; 
 but no one with a woman's heart in her could have 
 heard the girl's story without being moved. 
 
 Hardy paused on the doorstep to say to Mrs. 
 Brierley, " Is the man in blue serge, who smokes 
 a meerschaum, the captain who's lodging with 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " What ship does he command ? " 
 
 " The Glamis Castle." 
 
 " I know her," exclaimed Hardy ; " a fine India- 
 man. What the deuce does a swell like him do in 
 these lodgings? He should put up at a hotel." 
 
 " His home's at Penge," answered the widow,
 
 <+ East India Dock Road <& 55 
 
 " and two or three weeks before he sails he always 
 comes and stops with me, and brings his wife. 
 Aren't my lodgings good enough for the captain of 
 an Indiaman ? " 
 
 " They are good enough for the owner of an 
 Indiaman. They are good enough for a German 
 prince," said Hardy, in his pleasantest manner. 
 " Should I bring this lady here if they were not 
 of the highest?" And nodding to her he stepped 
 on to the pavement, and Julia walked by his 
 side. 
 
 He was free in his comments upon the nastiness 
 of the East End of London, and by his abuse of the 
 mud and the shops, and the quality of the passing 
 folks, he implied an apology for introducing Miss 
 Armstrong into such a neighbourhood. 
 
 " It's sweeter to me than Bodley," she said, re- 
 ferring to the place she came from. " What is the 
 good of fine houses and broad streets and handsome 
 carriages to a girl who has no money, who has but 
 one friend, from whom she must be shortly separated 
 for ever, perhaps, and whose most ambitious dream 
 dare not go beyond finding a cabin as emigrant or 
 stewardess aboard a ship, and the berth of a servant, 
 or, which is worse, a nursery governess when she 
 arrives? " 
 
 They walked for awhile in silence; but the silence 
 was in their mouths, not in the street. One of the 
 music-murdering organs of those days was playing 
 at the street corner they were approaching. Huge 
 wagons were grinding thunder into the solid earth. 
 There was a fight over the way two Italians were 
 going for each other. A crowd of dirty women were 
 dancing round them, encouraging them by the stim-
 
 56 The Mate of the Good Ship York <+ 
 
 ulating plaudits of the stews. An optician, with a 
 row of chronometers in his window, stood upon his 
 doorstep howling, " Police ! " They turned the cor- 
 ner, and the notes of the organ died away behind 
 them, and after a little walking they arrived at an 
 eating-house with big windows, and a sheet of paper 
 stuck upon the glass with red wafers, telling what 
 was to be eaten inside. 
 
 Hardy and Julia walked in. It was a long room 
 with tables, separated one from another by brass 
 rails and baize curtains, and nettings for receiving 
 headgear. About a dozen people were in it some 
 of them neighbouring tradesmen, some of them 
 obviously captains and mates. With a few of the 
 men were women, who were evidently wives or 
 sweethearts; in fact, the prices charged kept the 
 place sweet. 
 
 Hardy and Miss Armstrong sat down side by side 
 at an empty table. A waiter arrived, looking hard 
 at the lady, and the sailor gave his orders. He 
 guessed the girl was hungry ; he knew that he was, 
 and if he could not have spent a sovereign when 
 ten shillings would have handsomely sufficed, he 
 would have been no true salt. It is worth saying 
 here that all the money our friend had was about 
 two hundred pounds, and he had come to London 
 with twenty sovereigns in his pocket, and a cheque- 
 book. As he was an only child he would inherit 
 his father's leavings; but what would they amount 
 to? A country practitioner who dispensed his own 
 physic, and was glad to get three-and-sixpence a 
 visit ! A country practitioner with thirteen hundred 
 pounds in bad debts on his books, and a horse, gig, 
 and boy to keep! Still, whatever the doctor left
 
 ^ East India Dock Road * 57 
 
 would be George Hardy's, who did not value the 
 prospect beyond the worth of the furniture, and had 
 begun to save a little on his own account, with some 
 light dream of amassing enough to enable him to 
 purchase shares in a ship, which he would command. 
 
 He ordered a good dinner from the bill of fare, 
 and asked the waiter if the champagne of the 
 establishment was real wine or chemicals. The 
 waiter named a good brand, and swore there was 
 nothing in the market to equal it. It was nine 
 shillings a bottle. 
 
 " I never drink champagne," said Julia. 
 
 " But I do," exclaimed Hardy. " Bear a hand, 
 waiter. We've been fasting since eight this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The waiter sidled away. 
 
 " Champagne is the best of all drinks for young 
 ladies," said Hardy ; " and it helps the spirits of 
 chief mates who are bound away on long voyages. 
 What shall we do when we've dined? " 
 
 " I should like to see the docks," said the girl. 
 
 " Not to-day," exclaimed Hardy, pursing his 
 mouth into an expression of disgust. " Let us hug 
 the land as long as we can ; besides, it will be draw- 
 ing on to four o'clock before we've dined, and the 
 docks and the ships in it will be invisible." 
 
 As he spoke these words the man whom he had 
 caught a sight of in his lodgings smoking a meer- 
 schaum pipe came into the dining-rooms with a lady, 
 whom you at once guessed was his wife. They 
 looked right and left, and took a table exactly 
 opposite that occupied by Hardy and Miss Arm- 
 strong. The man who had been represented by 
 Mrs. Brierley as the commander of an East India-
 
 58 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York & 
 
 man, named the Glamis Castle, was short and square, 
 with a strong, red beard, and shorn upper lip; his 
 eyebrows were reddish and habitually knitted, as 
 though from long years of steadfast staring into the 
 eyes of the wind. His eyes were dark and sharp 
 in their glances; his brow was square as his form, 
 and delicately browned by the sun. The lady was 
 a homely-looking woman, in a bonnet and velvet 
 mantle. She began to pull off her gloves, and her 
 companion, after bawling " Waiter," in a quarter- 
 deck roar, gazed fixedly at Hardy, who gazed back. 
 
 All the time the man was giving his orders to the 
 waiter, with occasional references to the lady, he 
 kept his eyes bent on Hardy, who muttered to Julia, 
 " I believe I know that man." The moment he had 
 done with the waiter he rose, and stepped over to 
 Hardy. 
 
 " Is your name George Hardy? " said he, with a 
 slight glance at the girl. 
 
 " Yes," answered Hardy, " and now that I've got 
 the bearings of you, I don't need to ask if your name 
 is James Smedley." 
 
 They clasped hands. 
 
 " Let me introduce you," said Hardy, " to Miss 
 Julia Armstrong, daughter of Commander Arm- 
 strong, late of the Royal Navy. Captain Smedley, 
 of the Glamis Castle, Miss Armstrong." 
 
 " How did you know that ? " asked Smedley, ex- 
 changing a bow with the girl, whose peculiar grace 
 of form, whose charm of movement, whose face, 
 romantic and pleading, with the gifts of nature and 
 the passions of her heart, his swift eye was observing 
 with pleasure and curiosity. 
 
 " I am stopping in the house you're lodging in,"
 
 $ East India Dock Road $ 59 
 
 answered Hardy, " and Mrs. Brierley told me who 
 you were. Are you going to dine here ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Is that your wife?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Bring her across, Smedley, and we'll make a 
 dinner party." 
 
 Mrs. Smedley had been bobbing to catch a view 
 of Miss Armstrong, and the bugles in her bonnet 
 twinkled like fireflies as she swayed her head. 
 
 " Miss Armstrong's story," continued Hardy, " is 
 so moving that Mrs. Smedley will be grieved to the 
 depths of her kindly heart when she hears it." 
 
 Julia looked down, and Captain Smedley studied 
 her for a few moments, then wheeled abruptly, and 
 stepped over to his wife. After a brief confab they 
 both came to Hardy's table, and Mrs. Smedley was 
 introduced to Miss Armstrong and her companion. 
 
 " Do you sail with your husband? " asked Julia. 
 
 " No," answered Mrs. Smedley, who seemed 
 struck by the girl. " The owners won't let the cap- 
 tains carry their wives with them." 
 
 " A ship," said Julia, " should never be so safe as 
 when a captain's wife is on board, because of course 
 her presence would make the commander doubly 
 vigilant and anxious." 
 
 " Haw, haw ! " laughed Smedley. 
 
 The fish which had been ordered was now placed 
 upon the table, and on both sides they began to eat. 
 The waiter uncorked the champagne, and Hardy told 
 him to fill the glasses opposite. This was resisted by 
 Mrs. Smedley, a homely woman, who declared that 
 for her part she loved nothing better than bitter beer. 
 Again her husband " Haw-haw'd," and said they
 
 6o The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 would see Hardy's champagne through, and then he 
 would order another bottle. He believed it was not 
 usual in polite society to drink champagne with fish ; 
 but it was all one to him. Champagne went down 
 the same way, whether its messmate was fish or flesh. 
 
 "Are you leaving England?" inquired Mrs. 
 Smedley, addressing Julia, at whom she continued 
 to look hard, though not in the least rudely, as if 
 she found a good deal in the girl that was infinitely 
 beyond the range of her speculations. 
 
 " I am endeavouring to leave it," answered Julia, 
 looking at her with her head a little on one side. 
 
 " May I tell them your story? " said Hardy, " for 
 we shall want our friend's influence," he added, with 
 a nod at his old shipmate. 
 
 " Oh, yes, tell them," exclaimed Julia, a little pas- 
 sionately ; " it will account for my being in the East 
 India Dock Road," and her face relaxed as she 
 looked at Mrs. Smedley, who smiled upon her in a 
 motherly way. 
 
 Hardy in his blunt, sailorly fashion began. He 
 did not spare Captain Armstrong, neither did he 
 spare Julia's stepmother. He warmed up, and put 
 the girl's case in forcible terms. Asked what a young 
 English lady was to do who was, to all intents and 
 purposes, expelled from her father's roof by the 
 brutality of a drunken stepmother, he related some 
 of her experiences in nursing and in seeking inde- 
 pendence in other ways, just as she had related them 
 to him. He spoke of his finding her unconscious by 
 the wayside, and how he was determined to take this 
 poor, friendless young lady by the hand, and help 
 her to the utmost stretch of his ability to find a 
 home, a refuge across the seas.
 
 9 East India Dock Road $ 61 
 
 " Don't cry, my dear," said Mrs. Smedley. " I 
 have known more cases than yours. It is very hard 
 and to be motherless but you cannot allow your 
 heart to be broken by a bad woman; and I think 
 you are acting wisely in resolving to go abroad." 
 
 Julia put her handkerchief into her lap, and closed 
 her knife and fork. Hardy poured some champagne 
 into her glass, and bade her drink. 
 
 " What's the lady's idea of going abroad? " said 
 Captain Smedley, whose face exhibited no more 
 signs of feeling than had it been a rump steak. 
 
 " She has no money, and wants to work her pas- 
 sage out as a stewardess," replied Hardy. 
 
 " And when she arrives? " said Captain Smedley. 
 
 " She is bound to find something to do," answered 
 Hardy. " The colonies are yearning for young 
 English ladies." 
 
 " Young English domestics, you mean," said Cap- 
 tain Smedley. " What is the good of ladies ? What 
 is, the good of gentlemen in lands where labour, and 
 labour only, is wanted ? " 
 
 " Why would not you go out as an emigrant, Miss 
 Armstrong?" said Mrs. Smedley. "Of course," 
 she added, " I presume you have Australia in your 
 mind ? " 
 
 " I would go out as anything as long as I could 
 get out," answered Julia. 
 
 " Take my advice and don't talk of emigration," 
 said Captain Smedley. " You will be miserably 
 fed and miserably berthed. You will have a ma- 
 tron and a surgeon over you, and the discipline will 
 make you wish yourself overboard. Your asso- 
 ciates will be mean and dirty wretches, who would 
 have qualified for transportation could they have
 
 62 * The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 made sure of the sentence. Your ship will be ill- 
 found. They talk of the emigrants marrying on 
 their arrival. Yes, but what is a young lady like 
 you going to say to such suitors as offer? You 
 wouldn't like to marry a convict? You wouldn't 
 like to settle down with a hairdresser in a back 
 street? Don't you go out in an emigrant ship, 
 Miss Armstrong." 
 
 " It is all very fine talking about don't," said 
 Hardy, " but what we want is do. Miss Armstrong 
 wishes to leave England for good. She pockets her 
 pride, and is willing to work. She has no money, 
 and I must secure her a berth somehow before I sail, 
 because I am not going to leave her alone in London, 
 where she's friendless ; and f riendlessness in London 
 where all is opulence and misery, like the front and 
 the back of the moon one shining, one ice-cold as 
 death, and black is heart-breaking, and for many, 
 Smedley, the invitation of the dark waters of the 
 Thames has been welcome." 
 
 " My God ! you're just the same always sky 
 high," said Smedley ; and he drank some champagne 
 out of the bottle he had ordered. " When you were 
 a midshipman under me you were talking like that, 
 and you're talking it still." 
 
 " Surely a man can put his hand in the tar-bucket 
 without blacking his whole body," said Hardy, look- 
 ing at Mrs. Smedley, whose face was in sympathy 
 with his speech. " When I'm ashore I talk like a 
 gentleman. One can't be always cussing and swear- 
 ing ; and oh ! says you " and his fine, dark keen 
 eyes showed there was laughter in him " Give me 
 Jack Muck, nothing short of Jack Muck. Hitch up, 
 turn your quid, pull your greasy forelock, mind that
 
 East India Dock Road 9> 63 
 
 you're boozed. Oh, Lord ! Smedley, ha'n't you had 
 enough of it? " 
 
 "Miss Armstrong," said Smedley, rolling his eyes 
 slowly from Hardy to the girl, " why do you want 
 to go to Australia? Why don't you go to India? " 
 
 " India," muttered Hardy, " what's she going to 
 do in India? " 
 
 " No, but I tell you what," said Smedley, with 
 emphasis, " such a young lady as that may do before 
 she gets out there." 
 
 Julia gazed at him inquiringly, and Mrs. Smedley 
 turned her head to watch his face. 
 
 " Don't you know, Miss Armstrong," continued 
 Smedley, " that there is no marriage market in the 
 world to equal an East Indiaman ? " 
 
 Julia flushed a little, but did not speak. 
 
 " She takes out young people," went on the com- 
 mander of the Glamis Castle, " called Griffins. They 
 are young men with a glass in their eye and suscep- 
 tible hearts behind their waistcoats. They also take 
 out planters, merchants, gentlemen going to join 
 houses " 
 
 " And ladies," interrupted Hardy. " Ladies in 
 plenty." 
 
 " You know nothing about it," said Captain 
 Smedley. " A few ladies, most of them married. 
 Now," he continued, " such a young lady as Miss 
 Armstrong, no matter what position she fills on 
 board, stands" a first-rate chance of finding a hus- 
 band before her arrival in India. Your emigrant 
 ship is not going to provide any chance of the 
 sort." 
 
 " I do not think of marriage," said Julia, who 
 after colouring had turned rather paler than usual,
 
 64 + The Mate of the Good Ship York -* 
 
 but she spoke calmly and even with sweetness, 
 as though grateful for the interest these strangers 
 were taking in her. 
 
 " Oh," cried Captain Smedley, with warmth, "but 
 you must think of marriage. It is a condition of 
 every woman's life. It is thought of from about the 
 age of twelve until it happens, and nothing else is 
 thought of. All the milliners and dressmakers con- 
 tribute to the dream. It is the one idea in the 
 darlings' heads, and of course it is a wrong one." 
 
 " What will Miss Armstrong think of such stuff 
 and nonsense?" said Mrs. Smedley. 
 
 " What's a girl to do when she gets to India if she 
 isn't married ? " asked Hardy. 
 
 " They want governesses and nursemaids, I dare 
 say," replied the captain. " Let her call upon the 
 missionary. I took out the Bishop of Calcutta last 
 voyage. He's a dear old chap, and many a yarn we 
 spun together. I'll venture to say that a letter of 
 introduction to him from me will ensure this young 
 lady a berth." 
 
 Hardy, putting his elbow on the table, rested his 
 cheek in the palm of his hand, and looked at Miss 
 Armstrong musingly. Nobody spoke until Hardy 
 started, and turning to Smedley, said, "Can you give 
 her a berth on board your ship ? " 
 
 " I am thinking of it," was the answer. 
 
 Julia looked almost startled, and exclaimed to 
 Hardy, " We should be going different ways." 
 
 Smedley and his wife exchanged glances. 
 
 " I must see you safe on board bound to some- 
 where," answered Hardy, softly. " I am bound to 
 Melbourne; afterward to a New Zealand port. 
 Your ship will be bound to Calcutta. These places 
 are different ways, and India is the same thing."
 
 $ East India Dock Road f 65 
 
 She looked down upon the table in silence. The 
 other three saw how it was with her, poor girl, and 
 how impossible it was, and Hardy then felt t his with 
 a sort of yearning of the heart that was as bad as 
 sorrow.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE " GLAMIS CASTLE " 
 
 IT was nearly half-past four when Hardy and the 
 others rose from the dinner-table. Not that they 
 had been eating all this time. They had prolonged 
 their sitting over coffee and in talk, and there was 
 no obligation to go so as to make way for others, 
 because the hour was neither lunch nor dinner time, 
 and scarce more than two or three tables were 
 occupied. 
 
 Nothing had been settled when they stood up 
 and the ladies began to put on their gloves. It was 
 dark : the dining-rooms were lighted up, and in the 
 street the fog, though not dense, was wet as rain; 
 the lamplighters were running along the curbstones, 
 and in a chemist's shop a little way down the green 
 and red waters in the big glass vases dully glim- 
 mered like the side-lights of a ship, heading a 
 straight course for the dining-rooms. 
 
 " This is just the sort of evening," said Smedley, 
 " in which to visit a friend's grave at some church- 
 yard hereabouts. On evenings of this sort drunken 
 men fall into holes full of water near the docks. The 
 spirit of the Isle of Dogs stalks abroad this evening ; 
 you can see him in the sky and taste him in the 
 wind. What shall we do ? " 
 
 66
 
 & The "Glamis Castle" ^ 67 
 
 " I told Mrs. Brierley to get some tea ready by 
 six," said Hardy. " This is not an evening to walk 
 about in, and now I vote, Miss Armstrong, that we 
 do not go to a music-hall to-night. I am for lying 
 snug in harbour ; are you ? " 
 
 " I did not care about the idea of the music-hall 
 when you suggested it," she said. 
 
 " They are vulgar places, unfit for ladies, particu- 
 larly in these parts," exclaimed Mrs. Smedley. 
 
 " The cleverest performances I've ever seen I've 
 witnessed in music-halls," remarked the captain, 
 " and I never want to hear better singing than I've 
 heard at them. Sometimes a cad, who has no respect 
 for his own sex, who has no respect for himself as 
 a man, and not the faintest sense in the world of 
 what is due to women, comes on in evening dress, a 
 white shirt blazing with studs, and a tall hat, which 
 he is perpetually shifting upon his head : and this 
 fiend sings a song full of double entendres, and he 
 sings in greasy notes with a lickerish eye; and, 
 strangely enough, I have never yet seen any man rise 
 from amongst the audience, climb over the orchestra, 
 and kick the animal round and round the stage into 
 the development of a fresh sort of music and another 
 kind of words. Otherwise, if you want talent, go 
 to the music-halls." 
 
 " Shall we go to our lodgings and spend the even- 
 ing there?" said Mrs. Smedley. 
 
 " Yes, and drink tea with us," exclaimed Hardy ; 
 " and before bedtime, Smedley, we shall have settled 
 the business of Miss Julia Armstrong." 
 
 Captain Smedley gave his arm to his wife, and 
 Hardy gave his arm to Miss Armstrong, and out 
 they went, walking briskly so as not to get damp,
 
 68 * The Mate of the Good Ship York + 
 
 and in a short time they arrived at Mrs. Brierley's 
 lodging-house. 
 
 The widow had not expected them home so soon, 
 but she speedily lighted the gas in the romantically 
 equipped parlour, which she had placed at the 
 disposal of Hardy and Julia. The ladies went to 
 their rooms to remove their outdoor clothes, and 
 presently they were all seated in the widow's parlour 
 of curiosities. 
 
 " Where did old Brierley get all these things 
 from ? " said Captain Smedley, looking round him. 
 " Did he reckon to start a museum before the notion 
 of a lodging-house entered his head ? Man and boy, 
 I've followed the sea thirty years, and the only 
 curiosity I've got in all that time was my wife." 
 
 "I feel the compliment," exclaimed Mrs. Smedley. 
 
 "A curiosity," continued the captain, "because she 
 is all goodness, loyalty, and affection." 
 
 And he got up and kissed her, and sitting again 
 continued his eulogy, which was a sign that he had 
 dined well and felt comfortable. The ladies did not 
 object to tobacco, and the two sailors filled their 
 pipes, Smedley observing that he smoked so many 
 cigars at sea that he didn't give a curse even for a 
 prime Havana, though at the high cost of seven for 
 sixpence, when he was ashore. 
 
 " Don't you think, Miss Armstrong," said he, 
 " that I've put the case for the East Indies strongly 
 enough to justify you in listening to my advice not 
 to go out to the colonies as an emigrant ? " 
 
 " I am sure," observed Mrs. Smedley, " you stand 
 a better chance of marrying in your own sphere. 
 There are plenty of officers in India in want of 
 wives, and I need not say " She interrupted
 
 & The " Glamis Castle " & 69 
 
 herself, but acted the compliment she intended by 
 glancing significantly at the girl's charming figure, 
 and letting her eye repose for a moment or two 
 on her face and fine hair. " It will be quickly 
 known that you are the daughter of a naval 
 officer." 
 
 " I do not think of marriage," said Julia, clasping 
 her hands. 
 
 " I like your idea, Smedley, of a letter to the 
 Bishop of Calcutta," exclaimed Hardy. " But how 
 is Miss Armstrong to get out? Could you find 
 her a berth aboard of you or in one of your ships? " 
 
 " Well, it's like this with us," answered Smedley ; 
 " we have six ships, and every ship carries a stew- 
 ardess. Three are away, and the others, I know, 
 are provided with stewardesses. The practice is 
 for a person who wants the position to call at the 
 offices, and if her qualifications are all right her 
 name is put down, and she awaits her chance. Miss 
 Armstrong might have to wait a long time, and she 
 doesn't want to do so." 
 
 Julia shook her head slowly, and Mrs. Smedley 
 said: 
 
 " How can she wait, Jim ? She has no money, 
 and no friend when Mr. Hardy sails." 
 
 "Are you anything of a nurse?" inquired the 
 captain. 
 
 " I have nursed old ladies, but not children," 
 answered Julia. " But I have had some experience 
 in the sick-room." 
 
 There was a pause. Smedley filled his pipe 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " Have you a stewardess? " asked Hardy. 
 
 " Yes," replied Smedley, " she has been in the 
 ship four voyages."
 
 yo ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <+> 
 
 " What's the pay? " asked Hardy. 
 
 " Four pounds a month." 
 
 " Does she sign the ship's articles ? " 
 
 " All the same as if she were an A.B.," replied 
 Smedley. 
 
 There was another pause, during which the captain 
 lighted his pipe. 
 
 " I can promise nothing," said he, looking at his 
 wife as though he was trying to gratify her instead 
 of helping the girl ; " but I'll see to-morrow if some 
 berth as second or assistant stewardess can be 
 contrived. I shall see Mrs. Lambert that is the 
 stewardess's name, and I don't doubt that I can get 
 the office to recognise the need of assistance, as I 
 understand we shall be a full ship with a good many 
 children." 
 
 " You are a real friend," exclaimed Hardy. " It 
 is more than I dared expect from you," and he 
 turned to witness the effect of the kindly captain's 
 words upon the girl ; but her expression was as one 
 who gazes at a cheerless prospect. Observing that 
 Hardy watched her, she exclaimed, in a low voice, 
 " I can but thank you, Captain Smedley," and she 
 bowed her head, leaving it bowed. 
 
 There was not much more to be said upon the 
 subject after this; indeed it was easily seen that the 
 girl's heart was with Hardy, and as he was sailing 
 for Australia she wanted to go there too, which 
 perhaps was not idle in her, because it was impos- 
 sible for her to realise that he could not marry her, 
 even if he loved her, which she had no right to 
 imagine, as he could not support her ashore, nor as 
 a mate, nor even perhaps as a captain, take her to 
 sea with him. But things are felt and understood
 
 * The "Glamis Castle" <+ 71 
 
 which may not be expressed, and a little before 
 Mrs. Brierley and the maid came in with the tea- 
 tray and the cakes it was arranged that Hardy 
 should accompany Miss Armstrong on board the 
 Glamis Castle, which lay not far from the York, 
 when Captain Smedley hoped to be able to tell her 
 that he had managed to find a berth for her aboard 
 his ship. 
 
 " It will save a vast deal of anxiety and of time, 
 and it will rescue you from the horrors of the 
 emigrant ship," said Hardy to Julia, who smiled 
 faintly and looked as though the least expression 
 of sympathy would compel her into a passion of 
 tears. 
 
 Mrs. Brierley spread a liberal tea upon the table, 
 but not much appetite attended it. The subject of 
 the assistant stewardess was dropped, and Mrs. 
 Smedley listened with attention, and Julia with fic- 
 titious interest, to the conversation that was almost 
 entirely carried on by Hardy and his friend. They 
 had been shipmates, as we have heard Hardy as 
 midshipman, Smedley as third mate, both occupying 
 the midshipmen's quarters in days when Blackwall 
 Liners used to sail with twelve or fourteen reefers 
 in buttons and badges, who had sole charge of the 
 mizzen-mast, the poop or quarter-deck, the quarter- 
 boats and the gig. John Company's flag was then 
 flying, but they had not served in that employ. 
 They afterward came together, Smedley as chief 
 mate and Hardy as third, in a vessel called the Asia, 
 a ship with long skysail poles, a stem nearly as up 
 and down as a cutter's, black as night, half the 
 length of her aft sparkling with round ports. They 
 talked of this ship and of her wonderful passages;
 
 72 <+ The Mate of the Good Ship York <9> 
 
 how her captain would carry fore, main, and top- 
 gallant stu'nsails, and pass by ships which thought 
 they were cracking on with a topgallantsail set over 
 a single reefed topsail. 
 
 Sailors who have been shipmates love this sort of 
 memories, and it is like watching the coil of the sea 
 one blue ridge dissolving in the base of another, 
 with the laughter and the thunder of heaving and 
 racing brine to hear them. 
 
 Thus they passed the evening, with the help of 
 a little whisky and plenty of tobacco, and Julia, 
 sitting beside Mrs. Smedley, told her story over 
 again, but fully, and Mrs. Smedley talked of her son, 
 who was a young curate of whom she was very 
 proud, not only because of his social importance, but 
 because of his eloquence : she declared that he 
 preached a better sermon, young as he was, than any 
 minister of the gospel in the whole diocese, and the 
 interest Julia took in this matter, though the poor 
 girl was thinking all the time of Hardy and the East 
 Indiaman, charmed Mrs. Smedley. 
 
 The East India docks are among the oldest on 
 the Thames. They embody many chapters of the 
 maritime history of this country. They are of ex- 
 traordinary interest to any one who knows the story 
 of the ocean, and of the might and majesty of 
 England as the Queen of the Sea. Their soup- 
 coloured waters have reflected many different forms 
 and types of ships, from the emblazoned, glazed, and 
 castellated stern of the East Indiaman to the long, 
 black, yellow-funnelled, three-masted steamer whose 
 straight stem shears through it from Gravesend to 
 New York in less time than it took the Indiaman 
 to beat down Channel. The produce of many lands
 
 <&> The "Glamis Castle" + 73 
 
 litters the quays and fills the sheds. The steam 
 winch rattles, the giant arm of crane swings its tons, 
 the stevedore shouts in the depths, and the mate yells 
 at the hatchway. The tall masts rise into the air, 
 lifting their topmost yards into the yellow obscurity 
 up there ; figures dangle on the foot ropes, or jockey 
 the yard-arms. The house bunting of a score of 
 firms makes a festival to the eye, and alongside is 
 the barge, whose slender company do not pay the 
 dues, and whose language is beyond the dreams of 
 Houndsditch. 
 
 It was Wednesday afternoon, about three o'clock, 
 and the docks were full of the animation of the 
 coming and going, and the loading and the dis- 
 charging ships. The air trembled with hoarse voices, 
 with the passage of locomotives and wagons, with 
 the rattle of steam machinery, with the hissing of 
 escaping vapour. It was the Isle of Dogs, and the 
 afternoon was somewhat foggy. In one basin lay 
 a number of fine ships, nearly all sailing ships, for 
 there were very few funnels to be seen in those days, 
 and along the edge of the wall of this basin two 
 people were walking Hardy and Julia Armstrong. 
 They were two of a great many other persons, who 
 were labourers, sailors, and so forth; and as they 
 walked slowly, for the road was obstructed by goods 
 and machinery as well as by toilers, lumpers, and 
 loafers, Hardy, pointing to a ship lying on the other 
 side of the basin, exclaimed: 
 
 " That's the York." 
 
 Julia stopped to look at her. She was not in trim 
 to be seen to advantage ; her sails were not bent, her 
 running gear was not rove, but all saving her royal 
 yards were aloft, and her model, though light and
 
 74 <+ The Mate of the Good Ship York $> 
 
 showing the green sheathing, was visible in such 
 perfection of run, in such elegance of elliptic stern, 
 in such swelling beauty and fining grace of schooner 
 cut-water and flaring bow, as could be matched only 
 by those lovely creations of the ship-builders' art, 
 the Aberdeen clippers. 
 
 " She is a beautiful vessel," exclaimed Julia. " I 
 wish you commanded her." 
 
 " So do I," answered Hardy, running a critical 
 eye over the ship. 
 
 "Do you like the captain?" 
 
 " I know his name," answered Hardy, " but I've 
 not yet met him. He replaced a gray-haired man 
 who was a philanthropist, and held notions and 
 opinions which are not appreciated by ship-owners. 
 He was kind to his men, and owners cannot die 
 worth millions if kindness to crews is tolerated. A 
 sailor to his mind was a man and not a dog, which 
 astonished the ship-owners, whose views are other- 
 wise. If the food was bad he went on broaching till 
 he came to something sweet, and this was an enor- 
 mity. He would go into the fok'sle and attend upon 
 a sick man, and help him so far as kindness and the 
 medicine-chest could. His crew would have gone on 
 sailing round the world with him for ever. Such 
 men are not fit to command merchant sailors," he 
 added, sarcastically, " and so he is discharged, and 
 probably will not find another ship, and God knows 
 what he will do, for at his age what can he do? " 
 
 They continued their walk until they arrived at 
 the corner of the dock. A large full-rigged ship lay 
 there. Her house flag was cream-white with a black 
 cross in it ; a delicate space of bunting that trembled 
 under the golden ball of truck, for this vessel had
 
 *& The "Glamis Castle" +> 75 
 
 short royal-mastheads, and when the yards were 
 hoisted they sat like a frigate's under the eyes of 
 the rigging. 
 
 Hardy caused Julia to stop, whilst they yet com- 
 manded a view of the ship's stern and the whole 
 length of the decks from the poop to the topgallant 
 forecastle. She was undoubtedly a very beautiful 
 ship, probably the handsomest at that time of them 
 all in the London Docks. Her stern's embellishment 
 would have done justice to the imagination of the 
 Dutch shipwrights of the seventeenth century. Dull 
 as the day was, this Glamis Castle, without sunlight 
 to reflect, without the sparkle of water to kindle 
 stars and to flash prisms, was lustrous as though 
 self-luminous with window and gilt and gorgeous 
 quarter-galleries, and upon the sloping ebony of her 
 counter, before it glowed into the yellow metal of her 
 brand-new sheathing, were the long white letters of 
 her name and her port, and these letters you could 
 read in the water that floated stagnant about her 
 rudder and run. Her main-deck and waist were full 
 of business; her quarter-deck winch rattled its 
 pawls with the noise of a hearse trotted by tipsy 
 men from the graveyard gate; the crane was sink- 
 ing costly burdens into the wide, black yawn of the 
 main-hatch; riggers were aloft; preparations for 
 the long voyage round the Cape to Calcutta were 
 being pushed forward, as the newspapers would say ; 
 but, saving the mate, with one foot upon the coam- 
 ing of the main-hatch, watching the slow descent of 
 cargo into the depths, and saving the figure of Cap- 
 tain Smedley, sitting on the fore-skylight of the 
 poop with an end of cigar in his month, there was 
 then no man upon that ship who would have a hand
 
 76 f> The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 in the navigation of her, from the wide breast of 
 river flowing beyond, to that other distant breast of 
 river revolting with black corpses and their ships' 
 companies of plumed scavengers. 
 
 " There's Smedley ! " exclaimed Hardy, and Julia 
 looked at the captain sitting on the skylight. "If 
 he ships you," he continued, " you will be sailing 
 away in a noble craft," and he began to talk to 
 himself: "What a hoist of maintopsail! How 
 splendidly stayed her spars are! She'll show cloths 
 enough to get knots from the waft of a sea-mew's 
 wing! " 
 
 They walked on till they came abreast of Smedley, 
 and then Hardy hailed him. 
 
 " Come aboard, I'm waiting for you," sang out 
 Smedley, with a flourish of his fingers at the peak 
 of his cap. Hardy took the girl's hand, and they 
 crossed a short platform of planks stretched between 
 the edge of the wall and the ship's bulwarks, and 
 descending two or three steps gained the main-deck, 
 whence they made their way to the poop by the port 
 ladder. Before they ascended this ladder Hardy 
 stopped Julia to look at and admire the cuddy front. 
 It was a true Dutch picture of its kind. It re- 
 sembled the front of a house with its door and three 
 brass-protected, red-curtained windows of a side, 
 and a projecting wing of cabin on either hand, so 
 that the front was a pleasant recess with its roof 
 of poop-deck over it. But the romance of this fancy 
 of cuddy front perished for ever to this and all 
 future generations lay in the carving that lav- 
 ishly embellished it: a fantastic mixture of anchors 
 and flags with masts in full sail peering between, 
 and human figures with wings blowing horns.
 
 $ The " Glamis Castle " ^ 77 
 
 There was uniformity in all this variety, and the 
 complicate picture in the dark colours of teak was 
 fraught with meaning to the interpreting eye. 
 
 The sailor and the girl went on to the poop, a 
 fine stretch of plank, but not quite so white as it 
 would be presently, when it had been tickled by the 
 holystone, and when the ivory spaces of it would 
 take the sun-shed impression of the rigging like 
 rulings in indigo, clear of the velvet-violet shadow 
 of the awning. 
 
 " Well, here we are," exclaimed Captain Smed- 
 ley, rising from the skylight and speaking with 
 that bluntness which many admired in his speech, 
 thinking it sailorly, just as people will inhale doubt- 
 ful odours from an inner harbour and relish them 
 as " ozone." " What do you think of the ship, 
 Hardy?" 
 
 But though he spoke to Hardy, he kept his eye 
 on Miss Armstrong, and was undoubtedly admir- 
 ing her, particularly her figure, and the fascinating 
 cock of her head with its tilted hat. 
 
 " She's the finest ship I ever saw," answered 
 Hardy, with real enthusiasm. " What a marvel- 
 lous stern! what a delightful cuddy front!" 
 
 " Meant to astonish the natives," said Smedley. 
 " They have settled the choice of more than one 
 coloured nob, and left the other passenger ships 
 nowhere." 
 
 "Well, and what news, Smedley?" said Hardy. 
 
 " Oh, I think it may be managed," answered 
 Captain Smedley, sending his fragment of cigar 
 overboard with a jerk of his arm. " My wife is 
 below : let's go down to her." 
 
 They descended into what was then called the
 
 78 + The Mate of the Good Ship York ^ 
 
 cuddy by way of the companion steps, and this 
 interior was worthy its wonderful front. Narrow 
 slips of looking-glass upon the walls of it, and 
 between each slip was a picture representing some 
 Indian scene. The effect was brilliant and novel; 
 determination to delight the Oriental eye was 
 visible in the grotesque figuration of the three lamps 
 hanging over the table. A Japanese artist, delirious 
 with opium, might have imagined the extraordinary 
 shapes which supported the globes. All was luxury 
 and originality. Aft on either hand and athwart- 
 ships were cabins, but the main accommodation was 
 to be sought in the steerage, which was gained by a 
 wide staircase, conducting through a hatchway in the 
 fore end of the cuddy. 
 
 Whilst Julia and Hardy were gazing about them 
 Mrs. Smedley came out of the starboard cabin under 
 the wheel. 
 
 " I am trying to make my husband's cabin com- 
 fortable for him," said she, with her homely, moth- 
 erly smile, after greetings had been exchanged. " I 
 hope he will soon make his last voyage. Captain 
 Franklin, a friend of ours, was seventeen years at 
 sea in command, and in all that time he and his wife 
 calculated that they had only spent one year and 
 three months in each other's company. It is worse 
 than being widowed." 
 
 " Much worse," said Captain Smedley, " because 
 you can't get married again. The beggar's always 
 coming home." 
 
 " Let us sit down," said Mrs. Smedley. " Miss 
 Armstrong, come and sit beside me here. I am 
 afraid we sha'n't be able to offer you any refresh- 
 ments, but Jim when he came along said something 
 about dining at the Brunswick Hotel/'
 
 -9- The " Glamis Castle " +> 79 
 
 " Captain Smedley's full of original ideas," ex- 
 claimed Hardy as they seated themselves at the 
 table. " What a different scene, Mrs. Smedley, this 
 interior will submit a few weeks hence," he contin- 
 ued. "I see the gallant captain yonder at the head 
 there, a row of ladies and gentlemen ranged down 
 the table from either hand of him. The table 
 smokes with good cheer, elaborately served ; through 
 a window yonder you see an ayah cuddling a baby 
 and swaying to the heave of the ship. How the 
 sails swell to the heavens through that skylight ! " 
 and here he cast his eyes aloft, and then looking 
 at Miss Julia, he said, " And where will you 
 be?" 
 
 " Well, you may take it as good as settled," said 
 Captain Smedley, " and let my wife get all the 
 thanks," he added, not particularly referring to Julia 
 in his speech. 
 
 " You are very good," said Hardy, glancing at 
 Julia, who was certainly not smiling. " How shall 
 we consider it as good as settled ? " 
 
 " You've got to thank my wife, she's taken a 
 great interest in the young lady," said Smedley. 
 
 Julia meeting Mrs. Smedley's eyes gave her a 
 grave bow, full of the unconscious coquetry of her 
 natural postures. 
 
 " It's settled in this way," continued Smedley. 
 " I saw Mrs. Lambert this morning, and it is 
 arranged that Miss Armstrong sails as her assistant. 
 Old Perkins, one of the chiefs, who was at the office, 
 said that he couldn't see the need ; freights were low, 
 and the ship was sailed without regard to expense." 
 Here the captain winked at Hardy. " I told him the 
 lady was a good nurse and accustomed to children,
 
 8o ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York -* 
 
 and that the stewardess needed help. So, Miss 
 Armstrong, you will sign on, and you will have me 
 for a captain. Do you like the idea? " 
 
 " I thank you a thousand times for your kind- 
 ness," answered Julia. " This is a beautiful ship, 
 and I am sure you will see that I am not unhappy. 
 But but shall I find employment in Calcutta ? Am 
 I not almost sure of finding employment in Aus- 
 tralia ? " and she looked with a wistfulness that was 
 almost love at Hardy. 
 
 " You certainly will find employment in Australia, 
 and most certainly a husband," said Smedley, who 
 took the girl's hesitation very good-humouredly. 
 " But I fear your employment will be menial, and 
 the washing-tub, and the cooking range don't suit 
 the likes of you." 
 
 " It is very true," said Mrs. Smedley. 
 
 Hardy listened with his eyes fixed on the deck. 
 His heart had noted the girl's wistful look, and it 
 was beating a little fast in some confusion of thought 
 to his interpretation of her eyes. 
 
 " A husband," continued Smedley, " will cer- 
 tainly be forthcoming, but like the range and the tub, 
 he won't suit the likes of you, though stress of cir- 
 cumstances make you his wife. Now it's all tip-top 
 gentility in India, with a real chance of a first-class 
 sort, aboard my ship, this side of Calcutta." 
 
 " Oh ! it's marriage you are always thinking of, 
 Captain Smedley," cried Julia, clasping her hands, 
 and looking at him in her fascinating way. 
 
 The captain glanced at his wife as if the conversa- 
 tion was growing personal. 
 
 " Pray remember this, Miss Armstrong," said 
 Mrs. Smedley, " if you are on the ship's articles you
 
 <&> The "Glamis Castle" <& 81 
 
 belong to the ship, and if you cannot obtain em- 
 ployment in the months during which the vessel will 
 be lying in the Calcutta River, you can return in her, 
 by which time Mr. Hardy may have arrived, and 
 then you can try Australia." 
 
 " That's a new idea, and a splendid one," said 
 Hardy. 
 
 Julia's face brightened. " Will you let me return 
 in her, captain? " she asked. 
 
 " Certainly, if you don't run away, as is customary 
 with many who sign the ship's articles," he answered. 
 " But you don't go out to come back ; a major- 
 general may fall in love with you on your arrival, 
 and then you'll be coming on board to ask for my 
 blessing." He added with a little movement of im- 
 patience, " Is it settled ? " 
 
 " Yes, and we thank you again and again," ex- 
 claimed Hardy. 
 
 " You'll sleep in the stewardess's cabin," said 
 Captain Smedley. " Let's go below and have a 
 look at it. By the way," he added, " I may as well 
 say at once that your pay will be thirty shillings 
 a month." 
 
 Miss Armstrong blushed, and bowed, and smiled. 
 
 " Not enough, when it's all taken up, for a new 
 gown, Jim," said Mrs. Smedley. " Where's the 
 cabin, lovey ? " 
 
 They all went down the broad steps, conducting to 
 what was then called the steerage, in which the first- 
 class cabin passengers were berthed, though in these 
 days the word steerage is wholly associated with 
 third-class people and German Jews, who quarrel 
 over packs of greasy cards. The ship had plenty 
 of beam, and the steerage was spacious for a vessel
 
 82 * The Mate of the Good Ship York ^ 
 
 of her burden. The cabins ran well forward, and 
 there was plenty of them. The central deck would 
 be carpeted when the ship was ready for sea. Hand- 
 some bunks, washstands, chest of drawers, and other 
 furniture, made every cabin resemble a snug little 
 bedroom, and the port-holes were large, with plenty 
 of room for the passage of the thrilling and soothing 
 gush of blue breeze, when the flying-fish should be 
 starting from the metalled fore-foot in flights of 
 pearly light, and when the sun should hang in a 
 roasting eye over the foretopgallant yard-arm. The 
 stewardess's berth was small but cosy: two fore- 
 and-aft bunks, the same conveniences as in the other 
 cabins and this was to be Julia's bedroom. 
 
 She lingered a little looking around her, and the 
 others paused to humour her. 
 
 Then said Captain Smedley, " I am hungry. Let 
 us go and get something to eat at the Brunswick 
 Hotel."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CAPTAIN LAYARD 
 
 A LITTLE later than three weeks from the date 
 on which our friends had dined together at the 
 Brunswick Hotel, in the East India Docks, a fine, 
 full-rigged ship was sailing slowly in rhythmic lifts 
 and falls, as full of sweet grace as the cadence and 
 movement of lovely music, through the dark blue 
 evening waters of the Atlantic, about two hundred 
 miles to the southward of the Chops, and the autumn 
 glory of the fast westering sun clothed her. 
 
 She was the well-known clipper ship York, bound 
 to Melbourne and to another port, and she had 
 followed, after four days, another beautiful vessel 
 which we have inspected I mean the Glamis 
 Castle, bound, as the York was bound, for the Cape 
 parallels, where their liquid paths would diverge, 
 one going away east for Cape Leeuwin, and the 
 other shifting her helm for the Indian Ocean. 
 
 The York had made a noble passage down the 
 Channel, driven by a black, salt, shrieking, easterly 
 breeze that grew into half a gale, with soft, dark 
 clouds smouldering as they flew. The Channel sea 
 had the look of flint, and to each foaming scend 
 the ship drove in a curtsey of fury, as though to the 
 thrust of some mighty hand. She stormed along 
 
 83
 
 84 *9> The Mate of the Good Ship York $* 
 
 under two topgallantsails and single reefs and 
 swelling fore-course, and a swinging wing or two 
 of jib and staysail until she was out of soundings in 
 a passage that had the swiftness of steam, as steam 
 then was; and then the strong breeze fined down, 
 the wind shifted into the northwest, and behold this 
 clipper of spacious pinions breaking the dark blue 
 heave at her bows into scintillant lines like the 
 meteor's thread of light, with every curve of cloth 
 at the leaches, from head-earing to clew, of a faint 
 pink with the light in the west. 
 
 The officer of the watch stood on the weather-side 
 of the quarter-deck with his eyes fixed upon a distant 
 sail, close hauled and reaching westwards; but it 
 was evident by the expression of his eyes that his 
 attention was not with her. A single figure at the 
 wheel grasped the spokes with an occasional move- 
 ment, and sometimes a glance at the card of the 
 compass, and sometimes a look at the canvas aloft, 
 which, swelling out and sinking in, breathed like the 
 breasts of human beings. The flush deck ran with 
 a fair, white sweep into the " eyes," and you guessed 
 by the neatness everywhere visible that the vessel 
 owned a smart chief mate. 
 
 The anchors had been stowed. It was the first 
 dog-watch, and a few of the crew were idling on the 
 forecastle. Presently up through the companion- 
 way, whose steps led into the cabin where the captain 
 and the two mates lived, rose a little boy of about 
 eight years of age, dressed as a navy sailor, and his 
 bright gold curls shone to the setting sun past the 
 round cap which was perched on the back of his 
 head. He was a beautiful little boy of the purest 
 English type; no arch Irish eye was ever of a darker
 
 <Q* Captain Layard + 85 
 
 blue than his. A drum not a child's toy, but a 
 real drum, though a small one was slung by a 
 lanyard round his neck, and he clutched the two 
 sticks, whilst he looked at the officer of the watch 
 with a smile of his red lips, disclosing a row of little 
 milk-white teeth, and said: 
 
 "Mr. Hardy, may I play my drum?" 
 
 " Why, yes, Johnny, of course you may," an- 
 swered Hardy, " and if you'll beat a smart tattoo 
 the breeze will freshen, for we are wanting legs, 
 Johnny." 
 
 " May I go on the forecastle and beat it? " said 
 Johnny. " The man who has the whistle will play 
 it whilst I beat." 
 
 " Hurrah for ' The Girl I Left Behind Me,' " said 
 Hardy. " Go forward, little sonny, and beat the 
 music out of the sails, and mind how you go." 
 
 Just when the little boy was about to run along 
 the decks an immense, magnificent Newfoundland 
 dog sprang through the companion-hatch as though 
 it had missed the little fellow below. The dog in- 
 stantly saw the boy, and they sped forward together, 
 the beautiful animal often bounding to the height of 
 the boy's head in its delight in his company. The 
 men on the forecastle all looked at them as they 
 came, and those who walked stood still to watch 
 them coming. The instant the dog was forward it 
 swept its sagacious, beaming eyes, fuller of intelli- 
 gence than many which look out of human faces, 
 round the ocean line, and when it saw the sail to 
 windward it set up a deep baying bark, a very organ 
 note, grand in tone as the solemn stroke of a great 
 bell, which, translated, as clearly signified, " Sail 
 ho ! " as the setting of the sun denotes the coming of 
 night.
 
 86 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 " Where away, Sailor ? " shouted Hardy from the 
 quarter-deck, and the seamen laughed out, whilst the 
 dog, after one glance aft, pointed his noble head in 
 the direction of the ship, and lifting up his nose to 
 heaven barked deeply twice, which was his English 
 for starboard. The seamen laughed loudly again. 
 
 Johnny beat a roll on the drum, and the sailors 
 gathered round him, and others came springing up 
 through the forescuttle, which is the name of the 
 little hatch through which you drop into the fore- 
 castle or living room of the crew. The boy beat that 
 drum marvellously well ; he made it rattle as though 
 a regiment marched behind him, and the sails on 
 high rattled in echo as though several phantom 
 drummers were stationed in various parts of the 
 rigging. 
 
 The dog lay down and watched the boy, and a 
 few of the seamen, one after another, went up to it 
 and stroked its head. 
 
 " Where's the man that's got the whistle? " said 
 Johnny, ceasing to beat. 
 
 " Where's Dicky Andrews ? " shouted a man, and 
 another, going to the scuttle, cried down, " Below 
 there! tumble up, Dicky, and bring your whistle 
 with you ; you're wanted on deck." 
 
 In a few moments a young ordinary seaman rose 
 through the hatch : he was slightly curved in the 
 back without being humped, and carried the face of 
 the hunchback, the corners of his mouth being 
 puckered into a dry aspect of advanced years, such 
 as may often be observed in people who are afflicted 
 with spinal complaints. He was red-haired, and his 
 little eyes were full of humour and as lively as 
 laughter itself, and he wore the togs of the merchant
 
 $ Captain Layard Q 87 
 
 Jack dungaree for breeches, an old striped shirt, 
 a dirty flannel jacket, and a cap without a peak. 
 
 " All right, Master Johnny," said he, pulling a 
 fife out of his pocket. " What shall it be, sir ? " 
 
 " What shall it be, my lads? ' asked Johnny, look- 
 ing round with his sweet, delightful smile and arch- 
 blue eyes at the weather-stained faces of the men, 
 one of whom was a negro, another a Dane, brown as 
 coffee, two others Dagos, with frizzled hah and 
 silver hoops in their ears; and these this boy of 
 eight had called " My lads." 
 
 " Give us ' The British Grenadiers,' " said a sea- 
 man. 
 
 " A dog before a soldier," exclaimed the voice of 
 an Irishman. " Give us ' St. Patrick's Day in the 
 Morning,' me dear." 
 
 " Hurrah for ' St. Patrick's Day' ! " shouted sev- 
 eral voices; and Dicky, putting his fife to his lips, 
 started the most inspiriting air that ever mortal 
 genius composed. The drum rattled, the sticks 
 throbbed in the little fists; Dicky began to caper as 
 he played; nearly all the ship's company were as- 
 sembled on the forecastle, and many began to leap 
 about and spring with delight to the music ; the dog 
 rose, and in a stately way ran or waltzed amongst 
 the caper-cutters. That fore-deck then was a won- 
 derfully animated picture. The arch of the fore- 
 course, sleepily swelling and sinking, yielded a good 
 sight of the scene to the quarter-deck. The setting 
 sun painted it into a canvas almost gorgeous with 
 the streaks of purple fire in the tarry shrouds and 
 backstays, and in the climbing lines of the well- 
 greased masts; and in the flush on the breasts of 
 the sails, and in the red stars it kindled in all that 
 mirrored it.
 
 88 * The Mate of the Good Ship York Q* 
 
 The fife and drum kept company superbly, and the 
 fine Irish air seemed to thrill through the ship, and to 
 echo up aloft like some new spring or spirit of life. 
 The cocks in the coops abaft the galley chimed in 
 with a constant defying crowing, about as melodious 
 as the noise of a broken-winded barrel organ. The 
 pigs under the long-boat grunted in sympathy with 
 sounds which reminded them of the trough and the 
 haystack and the near village. 
 
 Whilst all this harmless sailors' pleasure was go- 
 ing forward on the ship's forecastle the captain of 
 the vessel came out of the cabin, and when he 
 stepped upon the deck he stood a moment with his 
 hand resting upon the companion-hood, looking 
 forward, and listening to the music. 
 
 He was a man of about forty-five to fifty years of 
 age, and his name was William Layard. He scarcely 
 wore the appearance of a sailor. The lower portion 
 of his face was hidden in hair, which was of a dark 
 brown, streaked with gray, and his hair was long. 
 His nose was a fine, well-bred aquiline, his brow 
 square, his eyebrows shaggy, and his dark eyes 
 burnt with brightness in the shadow cast by their 
 eaves. He wore a soft black hat, which sat securely 
 upon his head, and was clothed in a monkey-jacket 
 and blue cloth trousers. No discerning eye but 
 would have dwelt a little upon him in speculation. 
 His face showed marks of breeding, but there was 
 something else in him, too, that would have detained 
 the gaze a faint, an almost elusive, expression of 
 triumph, of an inward exaltation, which was almost 
 dissembled, and subtly revealed in the mouth that so 
 delicately diffused it that only a keen eye would 
 have witnessed it.
 
 $ Captain Layard $ 89 
 
 Hardy was making the voyage with him for the 
 first time, and though they had been together for 
 some days, whilst they had frequently conversed in 
 the docks, he did not understand him, he had not 
 got in any way near to him. But, as a gentleman 
 himself, he felt the presence of the gentleman in 
 Captain Layard, and had picked up from his own 
 lips that he had been educated at one of the great 
 public schools, had begun the sea life in the Royal 
 Navy as midshipman, but, for some reason, left un- 
 explained, had quitted the white for the red flag, and 
 had been in command five years, after serving, of 
 Course, as second and third mate, always trading to 
 the Australian and New Zealand ports in ships like 
 the York, which did not carry passengers. Hardy 
 had also gathered that he was a widower, who had 
 married a woman of good birth, the Honourable 
 
 Miss , no need to name her, by whom he had 
 
 the little boy Johnny, who was the darling of his 
 heart, and who had regularly gone with him to sea, 
 since his wife's death, in the last four voyages to the 
 Pacific. Our friend Hardy had also made another 
 discovery : that the captain, even before the start, 
 showed a disposition to treat him as a companion 
 rather than as a mate. This was so unusual in sea 
 captains it is still unusual that Hardy's specula- 
 tions as to Captain Layard's character were consid- 
 erably sharpened by it. 
 
 The drum and fife ceased on a sudden. The 
 sailors stood about, hot and amused, and the dog 
 with its tongue out looked eagerly from one face to 
 another. The ship was still : there was no slopping 
 fall of water alongside to disturb the calm respira- 
 tions of the canvas ; the captain, with his hand upon
 
 90 f* The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 the companion-hood, continued to gaze forward, and 
 Hardy, standing at the mizzen-rigging, watched him 
 askant. Then, through the serenity of the breathing, 
 sun-flushed air, all the way from forward, nearly the 
 whole length of the ship, came the clear high note of 
 little Johnny's voice : 
 
 " Dicky, play ' Sally come up,' " and Dicky, ren- 
 dered zealous by the captain's presence on deck, in- 
 stantly put his fife to his lips. The drum rattled, the 
 sails reechoed the jolly air, the feet of the men began 
 to shake, the dog raced and waltzed in stately meas- 
 ures as before, the whole forecastle was again in 
 motion, and the ship, with her taut rigging vibrant 
 with the shrilling of the fife and the roll of the drum, 
 floated onwards over the long, languid undulations 
 of the deep, which were scarlet westwards with the 
 splendour of the dying day that was crumbling 
 toward the sea line in masses of burning light. 
 
 Captain Layard stepped across the deck to Mr. 
 Hardy. 
 
 " That boy plays the drum with a professional 
 hand," said he. " He got the art himself, for nobody 
 taught him. It is a good drum good enough for 
 soldiers to march to." 
 
 " I never heard better drumming, sir," answered 
 Hardy. 
 
 " Where did Sailor learn to waltz ? " said the cap- 
 tain, and he watched the dog. " How quickly 
 Johnny has made friends with the crew." 
 
 " Any crew of Englishmen would cherish and pet 
 him, and perish for such a beautiful, manly little 
 fellow," exclaimed Hardy, with enthusiasm and ad- 
 miration in his voice. 
 
 " He's always kept my crews contented," said
 
 <+ Captain Layard $ 91 
 
 Captain Layard, smiling. " Several men have sailed 
 with me every voyage ever since I took Johnny to 
 sea, learning that he was coming again." 
 
 He looked at the sail to windward that leaned like 
 a black feather in the crimson air, then glanced over 
 the ship's side to judge her pace, and stood for 
 some time near Hardy listening to the music and 
 watching the men dancing. He said, with an abrupt- 
 ness that again surprised Hardy as it had before 
 even startled him during the run down Channel : 
 
 " Have you ever studied the nervous system ? " 
 
 " No, sir," answered Hardy. 
 
 " A man is formed of two sides," continued the 
 captain, " and each side has a nervous system of its 
 own. They are independent, and strange things 
 happen in consequence. I remember when I was 
 chief mate of a ship called the Tartar that I stood 
 aft close to the man at the wheel, who exclaimed on 
 a sudden, ' I don't know what's wrong with me, but 
 there's two meanings a-going on in my head.' 
 ' What's that? ' I asked. * This here side,' said he, 
 lifting his right hand from the spoke, and putting it 
 to his forehead, ' is a-talking one sense, which ain't 
 sense, because t'other side's talking in a different 
 way,' and here he touched his left brow, ' and all's 
 confusion,' and then he began to mutter to himself. 
 I thought he was ill, and calling another man to the 
 relief, sent him forward and followed with some 
 brandy, which put his head to rights. I spoke of 
 this matter to a doctor when I got ashore, and he 
 explained the dual system of nerves, and told me 
 that overworked brains would occasionally chatter 
 inconsequentially in each lobe." 
 
 " How shall a man act when his brain comes to
 
 92 ^> The Mate of the Good Ship York <4> 
 
 a misunderstanding in that fashion ? " asked Hardy, 
 gazing with critical interest at the captain's refined 
 but singular face. 
 
 " / take brandy," replied Captain Layard, sending 
 a glance aloft, then at the distant sail, then at his 
 little son, who continued to beat in accompaniment 
 to " Sally come up," whilst the sailors sprang about 
 in glowing glee, and the scarlet in the west deepened 
 into a rusty red. 
 
 " Do you suffer from attacks of the kind, sir ? " 
 inquired Hardy. 
 
 " To tell you the truth," responded the captain, 
 with a peculiar smile, keeping his gaze fastened on 
 the forecastle, " I had one just now. The left side 
 grew importunate in nonsense ; the right side was all 
 right, and quite understood that things were wrong. 
 The trouble was preceded by a curious beating of 
 the heart in the ear. It sounded as though a wooden 
 leg was hollowly tramping round the galleries of the 
 brain thump, thump, thump ! It was like the noise 
 of a wooden leg coming into a theatre when some 
 actress of genius has stilled the house into breath- 
 lessness by her witchery." 
 
 " This man is mad," thought Hardy. " He would 
 never converse with me in this fashion if his head 
 wasn't in two." 
 
 The drum and fife ceased. Johnny, seeing his 
 father, came running aft, and the Newfoundland 
 trotted by' his side. It was four bells, and the sun 
 vanished as the metal chimes trembled away to sea ; 
 the breeze slightly freshened on a sudden, a sound of 
 foam arose like the song of a full champagne glass 
 held to the ear; delicate streaks of white flashed 
 about the ocean breast in the twilight like some
 
 f Captain Layard 93 
 
 milky wings of sea birds; the ship strained a little 
 aloft and hardened her breasts, and stars of the east 
 shone upon the dark brow of the soaring night. 
 
 The breeze blew with a little edge, but it was still 
 the dog-watches, and the sailors, though abruptly 
 deprived of the drum in which they delighted, started 
 on another dance to Dicky's merry and excellent 
 whistling. 
 
 " Father, Sailor likes dancing," said Johnny. 
 
 " All sailors like it," answered the captain, stoop- 
 ing to press his lips to the child's forehead. " Cut 
 below now, my darling, you and the drum, and put it 
 away and wait for me. I sha'n't be long, and then 
 we'll go to supper." 
 
 The boy, with the obedience of a man-of-war's 
 man, saluted Hardy with a flourish of his little fist to 
 his golden curls, ran to the companionway, and van- 
 ished, and the noble Newfoundland vanished with 
 him. 
 
 " There is no weather in the glass," said the 
 captain. "If this breeze freshens we shall make up 
 for lost time. You'll not spare her, Mr. Hardy." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 ' Those are my orders to the second mate. I want 
 to maintain the reputation of this ship ; the freight- 
 ers love her. I have no fancy for steam, but you 
 can time it, and so tacks and sheets are bound to go ; 
 but I'll make a bold fight for old tradition," he cried 
 in a curious tone of enthusiasm, " and what we can't 
 carry we'll drag." 
 
 The second mate had come on deck at four bells, 
 and was pacing to leeward in the deeper shade that 
 dyed the atmosphere there when the freshening of 
 the breeze heeled the ship. There was nothing par-
 
 94 P The Mate of the Good Ship York ^ 
 
 ticularly noticeable in this man, of whom a fair sight 
 could be caught as he passed through the area of 
 light diffused by the cabin lamp, which was burning 
 in brilliance under the skylight. He was pale-faced 
 and fat of cheek, very light eyes, lashes like white 
 silk, yellow hair, and great ears which stood out 
 in eager bearing as though they sought to catch 
 everything which was said. He was dressed in blue 
 serge and a cap, and this was his first voyage in the 
 ship. So the captain and the two mates were sailing 
 the York for the first time in their lives. 
 
 It was Hardy's watch below; he crossed to the 
 second mate, gave him the course and so forth, and 
 descended into the cabin. Little Johnny without his 
 drum was sitting on a locker talking to Sailor, who 
 was looking lovingly up into his face, and often the 
 bright-haired little chap glanced at the cabin servant, 
 who was preparing the table for supper. The York 
 had been built to carry cargo ; she was not a passen- 
 ger ship, though at a pinch accommodation might 
 have been found for three or four persons, friends of 
 the owners, say, or people to whom the next ship 
 sailing with immediate despatch might be a supreme 
 need. In this age they would probably equip such a 
 vessel with a deck-house for the master and mates. 
 Her cabin was small and comfortable, very plain, 
 with a seawardly look that suggested sturdiness, a 
 very different cabin from the luxurious interior of 
 the Glamis Castle! A few berths stood aft, and these 
 were occupied by the master and mates, and one was 
 a pantry. 
 
 Hardy stopped to speak to Johnny. 
 
 " You play your drum splendidly," said he. " But 
 what's the good of a drum if you're going to be a 
 sailor, sonny ? "
 
 + Captain Layard + 95 
 
 " I'll play the drum when the bo' sun plays his 
 whistle," answered Johnny, manfully. " And it will 
 make the sailors quicker in running up aloft." 
 
 " So it will," answered Hardy, laughing heartily, 
 for the image submitted by the boy's words tickled 
 his fancy a bo'sun piping " All hands ! " down 
 the forescuttle, and the captain at the break of the 
 poop beating thunder out of a drum to hurry the 
 men to the reef-tackles! 
 
 He lingered a little to talk to the boy, for it 
 charmed him to look into the sweet handsome face 
 with its arch eyes ; 'twas as gladdening to his heart 
 as the song of a bird or the scent of a nosegay, and 
 somehow the child always put tender thoughts of 
 Julia Armstrong into his head by the sheer charm 
 of his smile. He caressed the Newfoundland whilst 
 he talked to the little lad, and then went to his cabin 
 to change his coat and brush his hair for supper, 
 musing over much, but particularly over his last 
 talk with the captain, who never before in the Chan- 
 nel or after had spoken so oddly or looked so 
 strangely. " If the man is off his head," he thought, 
 " my responsibilities will be enormous," for he per- 
 fectly understood the position that command con- 
 fers upon the shipmaster; he was God Almighty 
 aboard ; mad or not mad, his orders must be obeyed ; 
 he could steer the ship to the devil and clap the 
 mates in irons for interfering, and unless the crew 
 mutinied which few crews durst do, knowing 
 how heavily the law presses upon seamen, even 
 though they are able to justify their actions they 
 must go on obeying the master's commands, though 
 the fires of hell should be visible right ahead past 
 the horizon.
 
 96 <* The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 Thus Hardy mused whilst he changed his coat 
 and brushed his hair, and he also thought of Julia 
 Armstrong, and wondered how she was faring, 
 and what progress her ship had made. 
 
 The Glamis Castle had hauled out of dock five 
 days before the York sailed. She had slept upon 
 the silent stream of the Thames one night, and 
 early next morning was taken in tow by a tug, 
 which released her off Dungeness; then with the 
 stateliness of a frigate she broke into a sunshine 
 of canvas, and, if the wind had prospered her, she 
 should be some five hundred miles ahead of the 
 York. But it was sail, not steam, and short of 
 the report of a passing ship, no man could have 
 safely conjectured her situation. But one trick of 
 seamanship Smedley possessed : he never admitted 
 the existence of a foul wind; he never sweated his 
 yards fore and aft; he was no lover of the bowline, 
 nor of the shivering leach. It was always " full 
 and bye " with him, though he was points off, and 
 thus he made a fair breeze of every head- wind, 
 for his slants to leeward of his course gave him 
 two feet of sailing to the one he would have got 
 out of a taut, shuddering luff, and he never looked 
 over the quarter for leeway. 
 
 At half-past six Hardy stepped out of his berth 
 and found supper ready, and the captain sitting 
 at the head of the table with little Johnny on his 
 right. You will consider it early for supper, but at 
 sea the last meal is always called supper, and after 
 this they eat no more in the cabin. There was plenty, 
 and it was good of its kind : ham, cold fowl, cold 
 sausage, salt beef, biscuit, cheese, and salt butter. 
 A decanter of rum glowed deep and rich within
 
 $ Captain Layard <+ 97 
 
 reach of the captain's arm. A large globe lamp 
 sparkled brightly overhead, and the scene was a sea- 
 picture of hospitality and comfort, sweetened into a 
 tender human character by the presence of the boy 
 who sat on the right hand of his father. Sailor, the 
 great dog, lay beside the captain on the deck. He 
 was too dignified to beg ; too well trained to expect. 
 He knew his time would come, and lay patient in the 
 nobility of his shape. 
 
 Hardy sat at the foot of the table. It was the 
 custom in this ship for the captain and mate to eat 
 together, and when the mate was done he relieved 
 the deck till the second officer had finished. The 
 captain gave the little boy a slice of cold chicken 
 and a white biscuit, and filled his glass with water. 
 The swing trays swayed softly as pendulums to the 
 delicate heave of the evening waters, the bulkheads 
 creaked, the rudder jarred as the swell rolled, and 
 you could hear faintly the jump of the wheel chains 
 to the sharp but swiftly arrested shear of the tiller. 
 
 The captain with his cap off disclosed a lofty but 
 receding brow, rounding with something of the 
 curve of the egg-shell at the temples, and his long 
 hair and the growth about his cheeks and chin made 
 him look more like a poet than a salted skipper. 
 Hardy had taken notice that he stared at the man he 
 talked to, which is contrary to the notion that the 
 insane have a wandering eye. But that Captain 
 Layard was not absolutely right in his mind the 
 young sailor was convinced, as he sat at the foot of 
 the table cutting himself a plate of beef and ham. 
 
 " Captain Pearson made poor passages on the 
 whole, I've understood," said Captain Layard, re- 
 ferring to the commander he had replaced. " He
 
 98 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 was a very cautious man, furled his royals every 
 second dog-watch, and would snug his ship down to 
 the first hint in the glass to save calling all hands." 
 
 " I was told he was loved by his crew, sir," 
 answered Hardy. " And he seems to have been 
 the most humane commander that ever sailed out 
 of the port of London." 
 
 " Well, it is right that sailors should be treated 
 as men," said Layard, staring at Hardy ; " but most 
 of them are fools, they are children, they don't or 
 can't understand things." He put down his knife 
 and fork, drew out a handkerchief and wiped the 
 palms of his hands, then poured a wine-glass of rum 
 into a tumbler, and filling the glass with water 
 swallowed the ruddy draught. 
 
 " Some more biscuit, father," said the child. 
 
 An expression of tenderness, even like that which 
 might spring from a mother's heart, softened the 
 captain's singular and striking face as he looked at 
 the boy whilst he gave him a biscuit. He stared 
 again at Hardy. 
 
 " Sailors," said he, " don't see things from a right 
 point of view. There was a seaman who wanted a 
 Blackwall cap to wear at the wheel. To make it 
 he cut up his go-ashore breeches, and to trim and 
 bind the edges he cut up a new Dungaree jumper. 
 The cap cost him a pound, but he believed he had 
 got it for nothing because he had made it himself." 
 
 Whilst Hardy was laughing, for the captain told 
 this story in a dry manner, and with a twinkle of eye 
 that certainly did not hint at insanity, a voice was 
 heard in the companionway : 
 
 " There's a heavy fog rolled down upon us, sir, 
 and it's as thick as cheese to the ship's sides."
 
 f Captain Layard $ 99 
 
 It was the voice of Mr. Candy, the second mate, 
 and a moment after his step could be heard in the 
 plank overhead as he walked to the bulwark rail. 
 
 The captain sprang up and went on deck ; Hardy 
 continued to eat his supper, and talked to the little 
 boy. It was his watch below, and he was too old 
 a shell to quit the meal until all hands should be 
 summoned, which a quiet fog, however dense, topped 
 by a reassuring barometer, was not very likely to 
 occasion. 
 
 The fog, nevertheless, had rolled down quickly 
 through the gloom of the early night on the gust 
 of the black breeze, still nor' west. Black it was. 
 Nothing was visible of the ship but a few spokes 
 of light, like the arrested darting of meteoric fibres 
 spiking from the glass on the skylight in a fiery 
 arch. When the darkness of the night dyes the 
 darkness of fog then the universal blackness is so 
 deep that you might think the solid globe had 
 vanished, and that you hung in the centre of space, 
 death-dark and silent, moonless and starless, chaotic 
 with dumb masses of the deep electric dye. 
 
 This night the fancy would have been easily in- 
 spired by the hush upon the sea, for the sails floated 
 stirless ; there was not wind enough to brush the salt 
 curve into the expiring hiss of foam, and the invisible 
 swell so lightly swayed the eclipsed fabric that only 
 now and again did you catch the sad note of the sea, 
 sobbing along the bends, and hiddenly passing away 
 into the short wake in sighs and tones of weeping. 
 
 " Mr. Candy ! " called the captain. 
 
 " Sir ! " came the answer out of the soft invisibility 
 in which the bulwarks abreast were buried. 
 
 They came together in the spokes of radiance 
 about the skylight.
 
 ioo f> The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 " Clew up all three royals and furl them. Let go 
 all three topgallant halliards; the sails may hang. 
 Haul up the mainsail ; brail in the mizzen, and down 
 flying and outer jibs, topmast and topgallant stay- 
 sails, but leave the sails unfurled. See that your 
 side-lights are burning brightly, and bend your 
 sharpest ear over the water for a noise. Was any- 
 thing in sight before this smother rolled down ? " 
 
 " I saw nothing, sir. It was a bit thick before the 
 fog came along, and then it came in a wall." 
 
 The captain went to the side to look over and 
 mark the ship's pace, and the second mate began 
 to sing out. One watch sufficed. There was little 
 to do but let go with the drag of the downhauls; 
 and the clews of the great mainsail rose to the slings 
 to the sound of a few ocean yelps and a "Chiliman " 
 chorus. The men were not to be seen until they ran 
 up against you. They felt for the ropes, and their 
 footfalls were like the pattering of dead leaves on 
 a pavement to a sudden air of wind, strangely 
 threading with the shore-going sound the squeak of 
 the sheave, the rasp of rope, and the soft scraping 
 of parrel descending the greased topgallant heights. 
 The side-lights were reported as burning bravely. 
 
 The ship now had little more than steerage way, 
 and the captain, after looking into the compass, and 
 after repeating his instructions to the second mate to 
 keep his best ear seawards and on either bow, said 
 he would send the dog on deck, and returned to the 
 cabin.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SHIP'S LOOKOUT 
 
 CAPTAIN LAYARD entered the cabin and called to 
 the dog, which instantly sprang up. 
 
 " Sailor, go on deck and keep a lookout," said he, 
 and in a breath the Newfoundland rushed up the 
 companion-steps and vanished. 
 
 " He hasn't had his supper yet, father," exclaimed 
 the little boy. 
 
 " I will send it forward to him," answered the 
 captain, seating himself in the chair he had vacated, 
 and helping himself to a piece of chicken. 
 
 Hardy had risen when Layard entered, but seeing 
 the captain sit he resumed his place. His watch 
 would come round at eight o'clock. There would 
 be little time for sleep if he withdrew to his berth. 
 He had supped well, had drunk a glass of grog, had 
 enjoyed his chat with the little boy, whose charming 
 face and sweet, ingenuous, yet manly prattle de- 
 lighted him; he was comfortable, and the captain 
 inspired no feeling of restraint nor sense of intru- 
 sion, so he sat on. 
 
 " The fog is as thick as mud in a wine-glass," 
 exclaimed Captain Layard. " Some go fast and 
 some go slow through these smothers. The fast 
 man holds that a ship is under more immediate 
 
 101
 
 IO2 9 The Mate of the Good Ship York $> 
 
 control when travelling; I am a slow man when I 
 can't see. In fact," he continued, with a look of 
 exaltation, with a smile of profound self-compla- 
 cency, " I claim to know my business. There is no 
 man afloat who is going to teach me what to do 
 when a thing is to be done, and done properly." 
 
 " If all ships would heave to," said Hardy, wit- 
 nessing the captain's mind in the expression which 
 subtly interpreted it, " then it would be the right 
 thing in a fog to stop your engines, or back your 
 topsail. But it's the other fellow you can't see that 
 makes the fear." He immediately added, " Your 
 dog is extraordinarily sagacious, sir." 
 
 " It amused me to train him," replied the captain, 
 smoothing Johnny's little hand as it lay upon the 
 table. " There is no fog-horn which equals the 
 screams of an irritated sow. A sow once saved me 
 from a collision by causing a dog, in an invisible 
 ship close aboard on the starboard bow, to bark. 
 That put the idea into my head. Sailor has the 
 voice of a trombone, and he didn't need much 
 training either ; he is now perched between the 
 knight-heads with more searching eyes and clearer 
 ears than the whole ship's company could put to^ 
 gether if they made their heads into one." 
 
 Hardy laughed. 
 
 " Don't forget Sailor's supper, father," said 
 Johnny. 
 
 " I'll not forget," answered the captain. 
 
 As he spoke the words the man who waited on the 
 cabin came down the steps. 
 
 " Is it still very thick ? " asked the captain. 
 
 " Blinding, sir," was the answer. 
 
 " Get the dog's supper, and take it to him on the
 
 <+ The Ship's Lookout $ 103 
 
 fok'sle," said Captain Layard. " See that he has 
 water ; it may be an all-night job for him. Pearson 
 was a very humane man," he went on, addressing 
 Hardy. " I might guess that by the medicine-chest 
 he's left me. I overhauled it before we sailed, and 
 wondered at the quantity of sleeping and death stuffs 
 it contained. I found out that in one of his passages 
 home from Calcutta several men died of cholera, and 
 he was at his wits' ends for drugs. Ships bound to 
 India should always carry a surgeon ; they would 
 they must, if there are passengers. But glauber salts 
 are good things for Jack : 'tis an all-round physic, as 
 good for smallpox as for indigestion." He laughed 
 somewhat heartily, and continued, " Pearson's men 
 might have died to a man, for his medicine-chest 
 showed badly like the end of a long voyage. Fortu- 
 nately half of them took it into their heads to live, 
 and they got the ship home. After this Pearson 
 never went to sea without plenty of drink for cholera. 
 He's left some doctor's handbook on the diseases of 
 sailors, and there's a volume on poisons full of pencil 
 marks. His humanity was unwearying, but he got 
 the sack all the same. Johnny, my darling, it's time 
 for bed. Come along, my lamb." 
 
 He took the boy by the hand, and they went into 
 the captain's cabin, the child crying as his father 
 opened the door, " Good night, Mr. Hardy." 
 
 It was half -past seven ; Hardy went into his berth 
 to smoke a pipe before relieving the deck. The 
 captain's cabin glowed with the soft illumination 
 of an oil lamp screwed to a bulkhead, and swinging 
 in its bracket to the heave. It was a fine large cabin, 
 equipped with a table covered with green baize on 
 which were writing materials, nautical instruments,
 
 IO4 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 and such things ; a fore-and-aft bunk for the captain, 
 and a brass cot at the foot of the bunk, safely secured 
 to the deck, for Johnny. It was comfortable with a 
 carpet, chairs, a short sofa, a chest of drawers, and 
 washstand. Close beside Johnny's cot on the deck 
 was the 'boy's drum. 
 
 The captain began to undress the little fellow, who 
 talked to him of Mr. Hardy ; he said he wished Mr. 
 Hardy could sleep with them. No mother ever used 
 a tenderer hand in putting her child to bed than did 
 this strange sea-captain, mad or not mad. His eyes 
 were tender, twice he kissed the boy's fair brow ; he 
 seemed reluctant to make an end of this undressing, 
 as though he loved to have his hands upon the child, 
 to have his face close to him. 
 
 " Now your prayers, Johnny," said he. And the 
 boy knelt by his cot, and in words he had learnt 
 from his father, prayed that his mother would look 
 down and watch over them both, and that God would 
 bless his father and himself. 
 
 The captain stood by in devout posture, and whis- 
 pered the words which the child uttered, then hoisted 
 the little fellow into bed, covered him up, and kissed 
 him. 
 
 " Mayn't Mr. Hardy come and see me in bed ? " 
 said the child. 
 
 " Ay," answered the captain, and he stepped to the 
 door, and called the chief officer by name. 
 
 Hardy instantly came out, leaving his pipe behind 
 him. 
 
 " Come and see my boy in bed," said the captain. 
 
 Hardy, not knowing that this was due to the child 
 and not to the father, was secretly astonished, for 
 though he had always lived on very good terms with
 
 <+ The Ship's Lookout f 105 
 
 the captains he had sailed with, he had never met 
 any commander who treated him just as though 
 they occupied the same platform. 
 
 He followed him into his cabin, and the boy with 
 his bright hair on the pillow smiled a greeting. 
 
 " It is a beautiful bed, Johnny," said the mate, 
 stepping close to the cot, and looking at him with 
 the affection which such a child as this will excite 
 in a sailor's heart at sea, moved by thoughts of home 
 and of the fair land he has left, of his own childhood 
 perhaps, and visited by that mute sense of solitude, 
 peril, and the holy and brooding presence of the 
 Great Spirit, which is the impulse of the deep, and 
 understood by those to whom the ocean, eternal and 
 boundless in the constant recession of its horizon, is 
 an interpretable face. He turned to the captain and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " If your boy ever dreams, sir, it is of the angels 
 who guard his bed." 
 
 He kissed the little chap, and was going. 
 
 " A moment, Mr. Hardy," exclaimed the captain, 
 who did not seem to have caught or noticed what the 
 mate said. " This is an example of old Pearson's 
 forethought and humanity." 
 
 He stepped, followed by Hardy, to a corner of the 
 cabin, in which stood a small mahogany chest, and 
 lifted the lid. This lid was furnished with scissors, 
 syringes, and the like, and the contents of the chest 
 consisted of a number of stoppered green bottles, as 
 well as sticking-plaster, lint, and surgical instru- 
 ments. The captain, pointing to the bottles as he 
 spoke, said: 
 
 " This is laudanum ; this is labelled morphia; this 
 is atropine for the ulcerated eye ; this is chlorodyne.
 
 io6 The Mate of the Good Ship York t 
 
 Here are drugs enough to start a man as a chemist. 
 This is a book," said he, half lifting a thin volume 
 from a pocket and letting it slip back, " that tells 
 you how to make use of all this stuff; ay, even the 
 right dose of Glauber's salt is given." 
 
 " I hope there's no chance of Master Johnny 
 handling those bottles, sir?" said the mate, who, 
 though he gazed with curiosity at this revelation 
 of the open lid, was not inattentive to the expression 
 of the commander's face, which was one of supe- 
 riority, as though he had appropriated and was 
 triumphing in the merits of the kind foresight which 
 were certainly not his but Pearson's. 
 
 " You will never look into this chest, Johnny ? " 
 said Hardy. 
 
 " His mother was the very soul of honour," ex- 
 claimed Captain Layard, " and that child cannot but 
 be the spirit of truth and honesty itself." 
 
 He shut the lid and added, " Where, I wonder, 
 does the human soul come from ? The father cannot 
 give his, or a portion of his, to the child, nor can the 
 mother, for that might involve the forfeiture of their 
 title to immortality. The great poet must be right; 
 the soul which informs a child, which spiritualises 
 it in the womb and at its birth, must come from God, 
 who is its Home. What a wonderful thought ! What 
 a revelation it has been to me! What an assurance 
 and promise! " 
 
 He stood gazing steadfastly at Hardy, who, say- 
 ing, a little uneasily, " These are matters quite be- 
 yond me, sir," again made for the door, through 
 which he passed in silence, the captain standing mo- 
 tionless, his hands clasped before him, and his eyes 
 seeming to see something beyond the bulkhead, 
 upon which he had fastened them.
 
 $ The Ship's Lookout $> 107 
 
 At eight o'clock Hardy's watch came round. He 
 went on deck in a very thoughtful state, and the deep 
 dye of that tremendous void of black vapour was 
 very well qualified to darken his mood into the hue 
 of the crow a bird deemed portentous in ancient 
 seafaring. He stood in the spokes of lamp-sheen 
 about the skylight and called to Mr. Candy, who 
 came upon him suddenly out of some part of the 
 deck like a man walking through a glass in a dark 
 room. He exchanged a few sentences with this sec- 
 ond mate, but they wholly concerned the business of 
 the ship. Candy was not a person to take into 
 one's confidence ; his silver- white lash shaded a pale 
 eye that marked one of those souls which, as you 
 cannot make up your mind about them, you resolve 
 to distrust ; otherwise Hardy, in defiance of all law 
 of discipline, and even of sea-breeding, would, in 
 the humour of anxiety that then possessed him, have 
 been glad to hear Mr. Candy's opinion of the com- 
 mander. 
 
 The second mate went below to bed after reporting 
 that he had visited the forecastle, and found the 
 Newfoundland awake and vigilant, also that two 
 hands paced the forward-deck as lookouts. 
 
 The air of wind was still northwest; it breathed 
 with just weight enough to steady the topsails and 
 the foresail. As the ship leaned with the languid 
 heave of the sea, the sails hanging from the yards 
 on the caps, and the festooned clews of the invisible 
 mainsail, flapped in strokes of the pinions of mam- 
 moth birds winging betwixt the masts. The lap 
 of the brine against the bows, which were slowly 
 breaking the hidden waters, saddened the blindness 
 of the night with a note of supernatural pain and
 
 io8 <*> The Mate of the Good Ship York <+ 
 
 grief. The ship was moving slowly, and, as before, 
 nothing of her was distinguishable but the dim lustre 
 smoking in hurrying streams and wreaths of vapour 
 about the skylight and about the binnacle-stand. 
 
 It was damp, depressing, heart-subduing. The 
 philosophy of the mariner, which is one of endur- 
 ance, and of that species of submission which is 
 attended with sea blessings and the profanities of 
 the ocean-parlour, breaks down in the fog. Here 
 is the helplessness, here is the sealed eye, the spiriting 
 of groping anxiety, which is a sort of anguish. It is 
 not his ship or himself that he fears; the emotions 
 bred by fog are ahead or abeam, and it need not be 
 steam, for a dirty little brig or schooner, with her 
 half-dozen of a crew shouting their consternation 
 under the foretopmast stay, has been known to 
 smite and sink an ocean palace full of light, of 
 superb machinery, of saloon tables glowing with 
 fruit and plate, and populous with diners. 
 
 The deck was not to be comfortably measured 
 in a quarter-deck walk, in blackness so dense that 
 if you swerved by so much as two degrees of angle 
 of foot you thumped your breast against the bul- 
 warks. Hardy laid hold of the wet weather vang on 
 the quarter and fell into reflection, for loneliness 
 breeds thought, and no man is more lonely than the 
 officer of the watch on board a merchantman. His 
 mind went again to Julia Armstrong, but it had 
 found an unsettling fascination in Captain Layard, 
 and it quickly returned to him. He could not doubt 
 that he was a little mad ; his ideas were strange, yet 
 his speculations showed thought and culture. He 
 was insane to one to whom he talked freely, but to 
 his crew, to whom he would not and did not talk, he
 
 <+ The Ship's Lookout 9 109 
 
 must be the commonplace " old man " of the quarter- 
 deck, and in this way Hardy feared he might prove 
 dangerous even to tragedy. 
 
 The ship's bell was hung in the wake of the galley, 
 and a little clock, illuminated by a bull's-eye lamp, 
 was hung up under a penthouse on a timber erection 
 just before it. A lookout man would walk to the 
 clock to see the time, and at ten he struck " four 
 bells," at which hour it was as black and thick as 
 ever after its first coming ; the light breeze blew, and 
 the ship swayed softly through the void. 
 
 Hardy made his way forward to see to the dog. 
 He struck between two men who were walking the 
 deck, and one muttered, "What cheer?" 
 
 " By God, my lads," said Hardy, " you'll not find 
 out what a wolf's had for dinner by squinting down 
 his throat ! " 
 
 There was a faint haze about the forescuttle: it 
 came up into the inky thickness from the forecastle 
 lamp. It was a slight relief, and even a rest for the 
 eye, but the shadow forward was deeper than it was 
 aft, for up there in the void was the raven thunder- 
 cloud of foresail and foretopsail, and further for- 
 ward yet, like ebon waterspouts soaring from sea to 
 topmast head, were the midnight dyes of the jib and 
 staysail. 
 
 Hardy found the night-lights burning brightly, 
 and going toward the heel of the bowsprit he 
 touched the Newfoundland lookout with his foot. 
 He patted the invisible, shaggy head, and passed his 
 arm around its neck, and pressed the creature's long 
 wet jaw to his breast, a token of love and encour- 
 agement which the dog acknowledged by a grunt or 
 two of happiness.
 
 no $ The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 " Keep a bright lookout, Sailor," said Hardy, 
 patting the shaggy, invisible head again, and know- 
 ing there were two human lookouts somewhere 
 about, he called, and they answered out of the black 
 blankness to leeward. Well, he could not tell them 
 to keep their eyes skinned, for the sight of man and 
 even of dog lay dead upon that forecastle, but he 
 directed them to listen with all their might, to go 
 often to the head-rail and strain their ears, and they 
 answered, " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 Very plainly on this forecastle did you hear the 
 sulky sob of the sea like something large and timid, 
 gasping to the rude shock of the stem. The ocean 
 hissed a little here and there, but the light wind 
 could not give life enough to the glance of the curl 
 of sea to strike through it to the eye, even though 
 one looked straight down over the rail. 
 
 Hardy slowly made his way aft, and on approach- 
 ing the binnacle discerned the captain standing in 
 the faint sheen close to the helmsman. 
 
 " I never remember a thicker fog," said the cap- 
 tain, and he asked questions about the lookout, the 
 dog, and the side-lights. Then walking out of the 
 binnacle haze he struck the bulwarks almost abreast, 
 and Hardy followed and stood alongside. 
 
 " Whenever I am in this sort of thing," said 
 Captain Layard, " I think of the blind. It is terrible 
 to wake of <a bright morning to the eternal darkness 
 of one's life. I should fear the presence of visions 
 in that everlasting gloom. It would be haunted with 
 phantoms, and as thick-set with wild, grotesque, 
 horrible, brassy faces as the human eye when 
 morphia closes the lid." 
 
 " My father is, as you know, sir, a doctor," said
 
 $ The Ship's Lookout in 
 
 Hardy, " and I've heard him speak of the blind. He 
 declares they are less to be pitied than the stone 
 deaf." The captain pshaw'd. " He would say," 
 continued Hardy, " contrast the faces of the two 
 afflictions. They both force the mind's eye more 
 deeply inwards, but in the one there is the pain of 
 attention ever strained and a baffled, helpless look, 
 whilst the other is mild and restful as though it had 
 found peace in its communes with God." 
 
 " Your father may be a very clever man," said 
 Captain Layard, " but I have no faith in doctors. 
 I have never met a doctor who did me any good, 
 and I have been ill in my time, believe me. They 
 let my wife die." 
 
 He paused as if in some passage of deep emotion. 
 In this interval Hardy thought to himself what an 
 extraordinary conversation for the quarter-deck of 
 a ship, close upon midnight, in a dense fog! 
 
 Some hanging fold of canvas flapped aloft. In a 
 voice as changed as though he was acting, the 
 captain exclaimed : 
 
 " That's the speech of a sail that asks to be furled. 
 The glass is high, and there's no foul weather any- 
 where. If the breeze freshens by ever so little, or if 
 this light air draws ahead, call me, sir." 
 
 There was positive refreshment in this plain 
 speech of the sea to Hardy, who on replying to the 
 captain found that he had gone, and in the steaming 
 faintness hovering in the companion just caught a 
 sight of his head disappearing. 
 
 Eleven bells had been struck, and Hardy was 
 beginning to think that it would be eight bells soon, 
 which must signify shelter, freedom from the dwarf- 
 ish drench of the vapour, as fine but as penetrating
 
 112 * The Mate of the Good Ship York ^ 
 
 as rain in Lilliput, a warm blanket, half a pipe, and 
 then oblivion for an off-shore spell of nearly four 
 hours, when on a sudden the dog barked. The tones 
 were deep and constant, and to the first roll of those 
 organ notes the loose wet canvas beat the masts aloft 
 in a sudden heave of the whole fabric, and an element 
 of alarm and even of fearful expectation entered the 
 black void and thickened it, and seemed to close it 
 round about till the smoking colour of light on fore- 
 castle and quarter-deck dimmed into the preternat- 
 ural faintness of the salt sea glow when it shudders a 
 fathom deep under some smooth tropic surface. 
 
 The dog continued to bark, and there was an 
 importunate vehemence in his notes, a bounding 
 pulse of urgency as though the noble creature with 
 instincts superior to man's knew that a matter of life 
 or death was concerned in his sentinel bugling. 
 Voices sounded forward, you heard a hurry of feet ; 
 again the ship leaned, and the sails smote the masts 
 with an alarum sound of metal ; and to the accom- 
 paniment of this midnight concert, made ghastly by 
 blackness, by the overwhelming blindness of fog and 
 by the presence of danger, Hardy rushed forward, 
 taking his chance of what might be in the road. 
 
 " Jump for a port-fire, one of you," he shouted, 
 sending his cry slap into a very web of seamen's 
 growling voices, the owners of which were no more 
 to be seen than the ship's keel. " What is it, 
 Sailor?" 
 
 And now he was alongside the dog, and with his 
 hand on its head felt in the direction of the creature's 
 muzzle, and found that it was delivering its notes 
 straight away over the head-rail, about two points on 
 the weather bow.
 
 f The Ship's Lookout *9* 113 
 
 "Wheel, there!" he roared. "Starboard your 
 helm. Let her go off five points." 
 
 " Starboard it is, sir," came back the answer. 
 
 " See that sheen out to starboard there, sir? " rang 
 out a voice which sounded clear through the barking 
 of the dog. 
 
 " Hush ! Sailor. Down, sir. Hush, my beauty," 
 cried Hardy, and the dog was instantly silent. 
 "Hark! now." 
 
 A sort of oozing of light, dimly scarlet, wild and 
 weak and wet as some ghostly star of death hovering 
 over a grave, was visible to windward, a trifle for- 
 ward of the fore-rigging. " Hark! " cried Hardy, 
 and sure enough amid the greasy slopping of water, 
 falling lazily from the thrust of the ship's bow, they 
 could hear a distant noise of shouting, of cries re- 
 echoed as from one part of a deck to the other, with 
 a deeper threading of some throat hoarse in a speak- 
 ing-trumpet. 
 
 " Is the mate forward? " sang out the voice of the 
 ship's carpenter. 
 
 " Fire one right away off," shouted Hardy, know- 
 ing what the fellow had got and meant. 
 
 In a few heart-beats a stream of sun-bright fire 
 was pouring like water from a hose over the bow, 
 but its lightning illumination touched but a narrow 
 stretch of the dark water. The foresail turned of 
 a sickly yellow, and the staysail soared wan as the 
 wing of the albatross in dying moonlight. All above 
 and abaft, and then forward to the fly ing- jib boom 
 end, yards and sailcloth lay steeped in the impene- 
 trable smother, and within the area of the light the 
 fog drove slowly in a very Milky Way of silver 
 crystals. But the men could see one another, and
 
 ii4 "9* T ne M ate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 helped by the light Hardy sped aft to be near the 
 wheel, and there he found Captain Layard. 
 
 " There's a ship off the starboard bow, sir," he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " They'll never see that port fire," answered 
 the commander. " They're burning flares, or we 
 shouldn't see her. A foreigner, by the row. How's 
 she heading? " 
 
 That question was answered even as he asked it 
 by the revelation of a ship. It had the suddenness 
 of a magic-lantern picture flung swiftly. They saw 
 at the range of a pistol a lurid shape, which they 
 easily distinguished as a barque with painted ports, 
 a tall poop, and a tall topgallant forecastle. She was 
 burning flares upon her main-deck and waist, and 
 the red flames, winding tongues of fire into feathers 
 of soot-black smoke, jewelled the whole apparition 
 with red-hot stars. They pierced through the fog 
 like sunlit rubies from glass and brass, from wet 
 plank and mast, and the grease of spars. She was 
 so close that she shone out clearly, and made light 
 enough for the people of the Yerk to see by. Her 
 helm was hard up and she was slowly paying off, 
 but her flying-jib boom must catch the mizzen-rig- 
 ging of the Australian clipper. You heard the splin- 
 tering of wood aloft, the crash of nearer timber, 
 broken off carrot-like betwixt a lazy roll of both 
 ships. 
 
 The barque's decks were a sight for the gods. 
 Figures of men could be seen rushing frantically 
 here and there. They were all shouting; men on 
 the poop were screeching orders, and nothing but the 
 helm gave heed ; men on the forecastle were roaring 
 and flourishing their fists. The flames duplicated
 
 <&> The Ship's Lookout $ 115 
 
 the shadows of the running figures; painted lines 
 of the rigging upon the planks writhed between the 
 water-ways, like serpents snaking their attenuated 
 lengths overboard. Never did any sea light flash up 
 a more startling, a wilder, a more ghastly tapestry. 
 'Twas like a painting in flames and ruddy stars upon 
 the black canvas of the fog, and the hull, with its 
 lines of ports like the keys of a piano, reeled slowly 
 off on the lift of the brine, yard-arm to yard-arm, 
 the beating canves of each red as the powder flag, 
 and dying out up aloft like the reflection of a burn- 
 ing ship upon a cloud. 
 
 It was all too breathless for action aboard the 
 York. Before a brace could be let go, before an 
 order could be yelled, the stranger's flying- jib boom 
 was crackling and gone, and her topgallantmast, 
 with its canvas, was plastering the topsail ; and then 
 it was almost channel to channel, and the barque's 
 poop was abreast of the York's quarter-deck. 
 
 " Great God ! " cried Hardy. 
 
 A figure standing near the stranger's mizzen- 
 rigging fell, and another figure fled aft, but at that 
 instant some back draught of breeze thickened the 
 crystals of the fog smoking close to the stranger's 
 taffrail with a dense feathering of the black stench 
 from the flares; the burning picture vanished out 
 astern, as though to the fall of a curtain of midnight 
 hue, the sounds of shouting sank, and in the hush 
 that fell upon the York's deck, nothing was to be 
 heard but the dreary lamentations of broken water 
 under the bows, and the weeping noise of eddies 
 under the counter. 
 
 " A close shave ! " said Captain Layard, fetching 
 a deep breath. " She has not hurt us, I think."
 
 n6 <&> The Mate of the Good Ship York <f 
 
 " I saw a man fall as if stabbed," said Hardy. 
 
 " Back the topsail ! I'll keep the ship hove to till 
 we can see," exclaimed the captain, whose attention, 
 concentrated by the sudden blackness into which the 
 ship had floated, was wholly in the manoeuvre he had 
 commanded. 
 
 The order was sung out, the sailors came groping 
 their way aft to the main-braces, the yards were 
 swung, and the ship was brought to a stand, lightly 
 rolling her masts with a slap of hidden pinion, which 
 made you think of some gigantic navy signal-man 
 waving flags. 
 
 " My noble dog has saved my ship," exclaimed 
 the captain. " I am a remarkable man ! " And, to 
 use a Paddyism, Hardy could hear in the skipper's 
 speech the expression of exaltation which his face 
 did undoubtedly wear. The skipper whistled, and 
 in a few moments felt the snout of the fine black 
 creature pressing lovingly against his thigh. 
 
 " Come along below," said he, passing his hand 
 caressingly along the invisible feathers of the dog's 
 back, " till I dry you and see how you look, and 
 we'll take a peep at Johnny." And he and the 
 dog vanished. 
 
 Just at that moment eight bells were struck. It 
 was midnight, and the starboard watch must tend 
 the ship till four. Whilst the last chimes were 
 trembling into the damp, depressing, flapping 
 sounds which clothed the obscured heights, the chief 
 mate was hailed by a man whose voice proceeded 
 from abreast of the gangway. Hardy stepped to 
 the companion where the sheen lay, and exclaimed, 
 " I am here." At the same moment Mr. Candy 
 came out of the companion and joined him. Before
 
 t The Ship's Lookout t 117 
 
 one could address the other, three figures entered 
 the space of faint saturated light. 
 
 " Here's a man," said one of them, " that's 
 jumped aboard us off the barque. He come up to me 
 and asked to see the capt'n." 
 
 " Which is the man? " said Hardy, straining his 
 sight. 
 
 One of them said, " I am, mister. I am French." 
 And then in French he asked if Hardy spoke that 
 tongue. 
 
 " No," answered Hardy. " Come below into the 
 cabin to the captain." 
 
 And after a few words with Mr. Candy, who 
 heard now for the first time that they had nearly 
 been run into by a tall French barque, he went 
 down the cabin steps, followed by the Frenchman. 
 
 In this interior plenty of light was shining, and 
 it was as noontide after the midnight of the deck. 
 The captain was near the table drying the dog with 
 a cloth, and talking to him, and praising him as 
 though he were a man, and the creature's mild and 
 benevolent eyes looked up into his face, and you read 
 gratitude and affection in the noble brute. 
 
 "Who's that?" said the captain, throwing the 
 cloth down, and looking with a knitted brow at the 
 Frenchman. 
 
 " He will explain, sir," Hardy answered. 
 
 " Softly," exclaimed the captain, " an angel lies 
 asleep in that cabin," and with a melodramatic 
 flourish of his arm, he pointed to the door of his 
 berth. 
 
 The Frenchman looked at Hardy. He was a man 
 of middle height, in a drill or thin canvas blouse, 
 over which was Buttoned at the throat a rough, old
 
 n8 +> The Mate of the Good Ship York <*> 
 
 jacket, the sleeves hanging loose. He wore blue 
 trousers patched with black, stuffed into half-boots 
 bronzed by wear and brine. His black hair curled 
 upon his shoulders, and he held a cap fashioned out 
 of some sort of skin. His face was a ghastly yellow ; 
 his lips a vivid red ; his nose long, lean, and humped, 
 and the black pupils of his eyes sparkled in the 
 flashes of the swinging lamp amid their whites, 
 which, by the way, were crimson with drink or gout, 
 or both. It was a face to peer at you, malevolently, 
 from a time-darkened canvas, very picturesque, very 
 romantic, but something that you would not like to 
 think was treading behind you on a lonely road. 
 
 "Who are you?" said the captain, putting his 
 hand upon the head of the dog, in whose body a 
 sort of rolling noise might have been heard, not 
 quite a growl, but a note as of suspicion grumbling 
 deep down below the throat. 
 
 " You speak French, I hope, sar? " said the man. 
 
 " And you speak English ! " responded the cap- 
 tain, with a side look and a grin at Hardy. " It's 
 no business of yours whether I speak French or 
 not. Start your yarn." 
 
 And the man, clearly understanding what was 
 r'aid, began.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE FRENCH MATE 
 
 I HAVE said that the man, clearly understanding 
 the captain's meaning, began ; but it was not a be- 
 ginning, nor a middle, nor an end, that could be set 
 down in black and white in that Frenchman's 
 speech. It was most barbarous English, yet in- 
 telligible when helped along by the captain's and 
 Hardy's questions. It must be given in plain words 
 to be readable, and thus spoke that sinister-looking 
 man: 
 
 " My name is Pierre Renaud. I am chief mate of 
 the barque that was just now nearly running into 
 you. We are from Cape Town to Bordeaux. That 
 dog threatens my throat." 
 
 The man flashed the poniards of his eyes at the 
 Newfoundland, who was like an organ with one key 
 going, trembling in its shaggy and splendid bulk 
 with a low, sulky, dangerous growling. 
 
 " Down ! " said the captain, and the animal 
 stretched its fore legs. " What brings you aboard 
 us?" 
 
 " Fear," replied the man, with a slight shrug and 
 a look of arching eyebrow at his questioner, and a 
 roll of the eye over him, as though he saw something 
 singular in his face and manner. " A man loves his 
 
 119
 
 120 < The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 life and will jump to save it. I thought we should 
 crush our bows in and founder." 
 
 " You did not stay to help your captain and en- 
 courage the men to preserve your ship," said Cap- 
 tain Layard, dabbing the dog's head to keep him 
 quiet. 
 
 " The captain fell dead in a fright," responded 
 the Frenchman, with another shrug, " and I chose 
 to save myself." 
 
 " I saw a man fall," exclaimed Hardy. " Was 
 that you that rushed along the poop ? " 
 
 "How can I answer you?" replied the French- 
 man. " We were all rushing." 
 
 " The captain fell dead ! " said Captain Layard, 
 in a musing way. " It's evident that French sea- 
 captains die easily. When did you strike this fog ? " 
 
 " I cannot say precisely. Some hours since," was 
 the reply. " When we heard the barking of a dog 
 we knew that a ship was near, and we judged by the 
 barking that she was approaching. We lighted fires 
 upon the decks, and when the glare gave us a sight 
 of you the sailors lost their senses, and ran about 
 shouting and screeching. They were too mad to 
 obey orders. The captain fell as I ran past him, 
 his hands clasped upon his heart, and as he had all 
 along complained of the weakness of that organ, I 
 am certain he died of disease." 
 
 " Your countrymen are not good sailors," said 
 Captain Layard. 
 
 The Frenchman grinned ghastly, and Sailor 
 rumbled afresh with a stiffening of his level fore 
 legs as though he must rise. 
 
 " If I had been your captain," continued Lay- 
 ard, " I should have saved my fly ing- jib boom and
 
 ^ The French Mate <+ ill 
 
 topgallantmast, and my sailors would not have 
 rushed about and torn their throats open with the 
 shrieks of fear that womanly spirit ! " 
 
 His smile was lofty, his self-complacency inex- 
 pressible, you guessed if there had been a mirror 
 at hand he would have admired himself in it. 
 
 His talk, but not his face, was past the French- 
 man's comprehension. He rolled his eyes upon 
 Hardy, then upon a decanter half-full of rum, stand- 
 ing upon a swinging tray, timing the pulse of the 
 sea. 
 
 " He asks for a drink, sir," said Hardy. 
 
 " Give him a tot," replied Captain Layard, " then 
 let the second mate tell the bo'sun to find him a 
 hole to lie down in. I don't like his looks." 
 
 He walked abruptly to his berth, followed by the 
 dog, but before he entered he turned to the animal 
 and exclaimed, " On deck, Sailor, and keep a look- 
 out till the smother thins," and the Newfoundland 
 sprang up the steps. 
 
 The Frenchman, with a smile at Hardy, touched 
 his brow. The mate, without noticing the fellow's 
 gesture, took the decanter of rum from the swing 
 tray and gave him a glass of grog. As he handed 
 the tumbler to the man, he said : 
 
 " Was your captain the man who stood near the 
 mizzen-rigging ? " 
 
 The Frenchman took a long pull at the glass 
 before answering, and then said, " Yes." 
 
 " Do you think he fell dead, or was he struck 
 down?" said Hardy, looking critically at the wild 
 and dangerous face, whose eyes stared into the 
 Englishman's vision with the fixity of a buried 
 bayonet.
 
 122 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 " He fell dead," was the answer, and down went 
 the remainder of the grog. 
 
 " I believe I saw a man rush from him aft when 
 he fell," said Hardy. 
 
 An expression of anger deepened the ugly devil's 
 look of malevolence, but he held his peace. 
 
 " Your captain is dead and you are here," said 
 Hardy. " Your second mate will take charge of the 
 barque, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Our second mate was drowned a week after we 
 left the Cape," answered the Frenchman. 
 
 " What will the crew do? " 
 
 "They will go to hell!" 
 
 " Follow me," said Hardy, and they climbed the 
 companion-steps . 
 
 The wind was sleeping. It was now a dead calm, 
 and the fog steeped in night was lifting into the 
 sight conquering blackness off an ocean that 
 seemed to be boiling upon some furnace of earth 
 miles deep. Damp draughts of air blew with the 
 rolling of the ship, and the canvas beat out hollow 
 notes like the blasts of guns heard underground. 
 The chief mate called the name of Mr. Candy, who 
 stepped out of the impenetrable profound of the 
 quarter. 
 
 " This man," said Hardy, talking in the skylight 
 sheen, " is mate of the barque we were foul of 
 just now. Take him forward to the bo 'sun and find 
 him a bed anywhere, and food if he needs it." 
 
 " I don't need it," said the Frenchman. 
 
 " Come along," said Mr. Candy, and they dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Hardy paused to listen and peer. There was 
 nothing to see, but he might have heard a sound of
 
 $ The French Mate $ 123 
 
 weeping all about, as though old ocean was mourn- 
 ing over its blindness. He then went to bed, but 
 not to sleep right away. The Frenchman's insolent 
 touching of his brow had accentuated his own deep 
 suspicion of the captain's sanity, and very grave, 
 though perplexed, reflection attended his thoughts 
 of Layard, and the tragically perilous situation of 
 the ship in charge of a lunatic so subtly mad that 
 no one but his chief officer might have understand- 
 ing enough to see how it was with him. 
 
 At eight bells in the middle watch he was aroused 
 by Mr. Candy, and was on deck in a minute or two, 
 for he was a smart man all around ; the first at the 
 yard-arm in reefing when his duties had carried him 
 there, the first to spring to the cry, no matter the 
 command, swift in relief, and for ever on the alert 
 whilst the responsibility of life, cargo, and fabric 
 was his. The fog was still very thick, but a thin 
 wind had sprung up out of the east, and the stream- 
 ing of the waters was like the shaling of a summer 
 tide upon shingle. The braces had been manned 
 when this weak air came, and the yards swung to 
 hold the maintopsail aback; the ship rolled gently 
 under the arrest of her canvas, and there was noth- 
 ing to see and nothing to do but let the fog soak into 
 the spirits. 
 
 " A spare bunk in the forecastle has been found 
 for the French mate," Candy had said. The fellow 
 had grumbled, muttered that he had been an officer 
 on board his own vessel, and deserved better usage. 
 Candy said he was lucky to save his life, and to 
 find a bed in a British forecastle. The French- 
 man growled that he considered himself important 
 enough to sleep in the cabin. .
 
 124 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 " What did you say to that ? " Hardy had asked. 
 
 " I said, ' You be damned ! ' " Candy replied. 
 
 Not until five bells, half-past six, in Hardy's watch 
 did the fog show signs of breaking up. It thinned 
 in places, and presently through the stretching ceil- 
 ing of it the cold, pale dawn looked down upon 
 the sea, and made it piebald with granite-coloured 
 spaces. The breeze then freshened and the fog 
 began to fly. Columns of it moved away stately 
 like pillars of sand on the desert ; it swept in Titan 
 cobwebs between the masts ; it sped like silken veils 
 streaming from viewless fleeting spirits over the 
 trucks. Wide vistas opened to windward; large 
 blue eyes, soft with the moistness of their light, 
 floated upon the trembling eastern brine. The sun 
 darted a pale yellow lance, and as the captain put 
 his head through the companion-hatch the scene 
 of deep, saving a blankness in the west, opened 
 around, and it was a shining morning with a bright 
 sun and a blue sea and an azure sky and a pleasant 
 breeze of wind. 
 
 Scarcely had the captain's head shown when 
 Hardy, looking seawards over the quarter, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " There's the barque that fouled us last night, sir. 
 She's got a wift at her mizzen-peak." 
 
 She could be no other vessel than the barque ; the 
 morning light was strong and she lay within a mile, 
 and you could see that she had lost her fore- 
 topgallantmast and jib-booms. Her maintopsail 
 was aback ; she had clearly hove to after losing her 
 mate and splintering clear of the ship and the 
 smother. Her backed topsail curved inwards like 
 carved ivory, her ruddy sheathing flashed its wet
 
 $ The French Mate f 125 
 
 length to the sun as the heave rolled her light, tall 
 shape, with its slanting stare of black ports, upon the 
 wide white line that girdled her. 
 
 " Why is she flying that gamp? " said the captain, 
 taking a telescope out of the companionway ; but 
 before he levelled it at the ship he sent a glance full 
 of scrutiny aloft to gather if his vessel had been hurt 
 in the night, which was distinctly professional and 
 sane, and quite enough to have convinced the Jacks 
 that the " old man " knew the time of day, even if 
 they suspected that the compass of his mind was 
 wrong by points. 
 
 The gamp, as he termed the wift, consisted of the 
 French flag stopped in the middle, that is, bound 
 by a rope yarn into the appearance of a gamp 
 umbrella. It tumbled at its block, and was a 
 syllable of sea talk signifying " help ! " The skipper 
 whistled to his dog, which had kept a brave lookout 
 throughout the night without relief, and which, 
 seated on the heel of the starboard cathead, seemed 
 to be listening with a grave countenance to the re- 
 marks of an ordinary seaman who was addressing 
 him. The beautiful and dutiful creature came 
 bounding aft and pawed his master to the shirt- 
 front, rising nearly his height. 
 
 " You had better lower a boat and go and see 
 what that fellow wants," said the captain, and he 
 motioned the dog into the cabin and told it to wait 
 there for breakfast. 
 
 " They're lowering a boat, and mean to come 
 aboard of us," exclaimed Hardy, whose eyes were 
 on the barque. 
 
 A boat dropped awkwardly from the vessel's tall 
 side, and in a minute or two the gold of brandished
 
 126 *$> The Mate of the Good Ship York 9 
 
 oars sparkled upon the delicate feathering of the 
 water. The men were washing down aboard the 
 York. In those days they carried a head pump 
 which they rigged, and the bright water was passed 
 in buckets and sluiced over the planks, the boatswain 
 standing by and giving the scrubbers heart by his 
 inspiriting cries, roars, and oaths. It was a common 
 scene of shipboard life, full of colour, movement, 
 and business. 
 
 Hardy looked along the decks for the French 
 mate, but did not see him. 
 
 The captain exclaimed, " We'll send the fellow 
 aboard in his boat. A good riddance. How some 
 faces damn the souls which animate them! You 
 seldom err in judging of a man by his looks. The 
 expression is formed by the character. But affliction 
 may deceive you, I allow ; a harelip, for example, or 
 a cock-eye." 
 
 " Shall I pass the word for the Frenchman, sir? " 
 said Hardy. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! oh, yes, rout him out of it ! " answered 
 the captain, smiling with that air of superiority 
 which would have convicted him in the eyes of a 
 keeper. 
 
 The word was passed, and the Frenchman, with 
 the aspect of a pirate in a boy's book, rose through 
 the scuttle as the boat came alongside. The man 
 who had steered her scrambled into the mizzen- 
 chains and sprang on to the quarter-deck with a 
 salute of French courtesy. He was close-shaven and 
 dark, habited in loose blue breeches and a jumper, 
 and looked a good sailor spite his nationality, that 
 was as marked in gesture and bearing as though 
 branded on his brow.
 
 $ The French Mate $ 127 
 
 " Can I speak to the captain? " said he, looking 
 from Hardy to the skipper. His broken English 
 was good. 
 
 " Glad you speak my tongue," said the captain. 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 " I have served in American ships and can speak 
 English," answered the man. " I am brother of the 
 captain of that barque. He was stabbed last night 
 and is dead. Our second mate, too, is dead. The 
 first mate is missing. I'll swear he killed my poor 
 brother, and then drowned himself. We are with- 
 out a navigator. What are we to do? " 
 
 " You shall have a navigator," exclaimed Captain 
 Layard, and he looked toward the forecastle, but 
 the Frenchman had disappeared. 
 
 The man bowed and said, " It was a cold-blooded 
 assassination. They had been quarrelling all the 
 voyage. The villain chose the right moment, and 
 the sea is easier than the guillotine." 
 
 " I saw your captain fall," said Hardy, " and the 
 man that killed him is aboard us." 
 
 The fellow started, and so did his eyeballs in their 
 sockets as he flashed them eagerly and fiercely along 
 the decks where the sailors were scrubbing, and 
 the boatswain encouraging them with the pleasant 
 promptings of the British forecastle : " Scrub it out 
 of 'em, my lads. D'ye want to drown the ship, 
 you sojer? Slap it along the lee-coaming and be 
 damned to you, Dick! Ain't it as thick as yer 
 eyebrows there? Hurry up, hurry up with them 
 buckets. Are we a hexcavator with the steam 
 turned off?" 
 
 " A hand fetch that Frenchman out of the fok'sle 
 and bring him aft," shouted Hardy.
 
 128 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <+ 
 
 " What do you mean to do with him? " asked the 
 captain. 
 
 " I will call the crew together and consider," an- 
 swered the man with a hideously significant glance 
 at the main yard-arm. 
 
 " If you hang him," said the captain, " who'll 
 navigate you? " 
 
 The fellow folded his arms tightly upon his 
 breast and sank his head, sending a level look of 
 patient hate through his eyelashes toward the fore- 
 castle. 
 
 " What's your rating aboard your ship?" inquired 
 the captain. 
 
 " Boatswain, sir," was the answer, and the man 
 did not turn his head to say it. 
 
 The dog at this moment came out of the cabin 
 and stood with his fore feet on the plank at the 
 coaming, staring at his master. He seemed to 
 plead. The human spirit could not be more eloquent 
 in the gaze; but the captain did not heed him, for 
 just then the man who had been sent to fetch the 
 Frenchman was coming aft, shoulder to shoulder 
 with the Frenchman himself. The men forgot to 
 scrub; the head pump ceased to gush; the boat- 
 swain left off conjuring and damning. All eyes 
 were turned aft. The silence of a moment fell upon 
 the ship, and nothing broke it but the low growling 
 of the Newfoundland. 
 
 The Frenchman, fresh from the forecastle, was 
 ghastly pale; his walk was defiant; when abreast 
 of the main-hatchway he came more quickly than 
 his companion, who stopped. He walked up close 
 to the boatswain of the barque and said, in his 
 native tongue:
 
 f The French Mate f 129 
 
 " Well ! " ' 
 
 The other dropped his arms; his hands were 
 clenched, his eyes charged with that deadly cold light 
 of hate which is more dangerous and fearful than 
 the flame of fury. He spoke slowly in French, and 
 what he said was this : 
 
 " You did not drown yourself, I see, after assas- 
 sinating my brother." 
 
 " You lie in your throat ! I sprang to save my 
 life. Your brother is a live man for me." 
 
 " Liar, and villain, and execrable coward ! " 
 
 He stepped to the rail and said to the men, in 
 French of course but you shall be told what he 
 said: 
 
 " The assassin is in this ship. He pretends that 
 he sprang for his life; he killed my brother, our 
 navigator, and would have consigned us, helpless, 
 to the desolation of the sea." 
 
 He returned, and was followed by a howl of 
 passion from the boat alongside. 
 
 All in a minute, and just as the man was posting 
 himself again in dramatic attitude close to the mur- 
 derer, the huge Newfoundland, with an indescribable 
 roar of rage, sprang with the whole weight of his 
 body upon the French mate, and bore him to the 
 deck with a thump of lead, like the fall of a twelve- 
 pounder ball, and they thought that the brute's teeth 
 hacl met in the wretch's throat. Hardy and the 
 captain made a rush and dragged the animal off the 
 fallen man, and the captain, grasping the creature by 
 the coat of his neck, hauled him, growling fiercely, 
 to the companion, and drove him below. 
 
 The man rose; his nose was bleeding, and after 
 he had run the length of his sleeve along it his face
 
 130 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 looked like a decapitated head placed on the upright 
 body it had been struck from. 
 
 "I want to swing my yards," said Captain Layard. 
 " I've been hove to all night through you. Take 
 that man away; I don't parley- vous myself, 
 and don't follow your talk. He'll navigate you 
 home ; he looks a good navigator." And he smiled 
 with some sense of superiority of meaning, which 
 made his face fitter for comedy than for the tragedy 
 of this passage. 
 
 The French boatswain swept his hand with an 
 infuriate motion toward the rail. 
 
 " If I go with this man he will kill me," said the 
 blood-stained French mate. 
 
 " Not he. The ship wants a navigator," replied 
 Captain Layard, with a cheerfulness supremely in- 
 consequential. 
 
 " If you do not come," said the French boatswain, 
 in his native speech, " I will call the men up, and 
 they will throw you into the boat." 
 
 " Why can't you speak in English? " said Captain 
 Layard. " He'll understand you, and we can follow 
 your meaning." 
 
 The French mate turned on his heel and was be- 
 ginning to walk slowly forward. As a cat springs 
 when started by a dog, so sprang the barque's boat- 
 swain upon his brother's murderer. With the 
 strength of the fiends before they were cast out he 
 rushed the bleeding scoundrel to the rail and yelled 
 to his men. The French mate grasped the mizzen- 
 shrouds and struggled and kicked in awful silence; 
 but in less than a minute three stout sailors, out of 
 the four who manned the boat's oars, swarmed up. 
 Eight enraged hands then tore the French mate
 
 $> The French Mate $ 131 
 
 from the mizzen-rigging as the sweep of the hurri- 
 cane uproots a tree. All in a heap, struggling, 
 wrestling, groaning, they got him past the after- 
 swifter, and to an order, shrieked through his teeth 
 by the French boatswain, they hoisted him length- 
 wise to the rail, and dropped him into the boat. The 
 French boatswain then made a sort of salaam bow 
 to the captain and Hardy, and the whole four dis- 
 appeared in the twinkling of an eye over the side 
 amid shouts of laughter from the seamen who had 
 been washing down the decks. 
 
 " Get all sail upon her, Mr. Hardy," said Captain 
 Layard ; " but I shall keep my topsail to the mast 
 for awhile until I see what they mean to do with 
 that barque." 
 
 The sailors dropped their buckets and scrubbing- 
 brushes, and fell to howling at the halliards. Top- 
 gallant and royal-yards rose, the mainsail was left 
 to swing with its clews aloft, and the York was now 
 a fuH-rigged ship, hove to, but clothed to her trucks, 
 leaning with the swell as though by swaying she was 
 knitting her frame together for the start. 
 
 A ship when under sail on the ocean is alive ; 
 watch her closely and you will discover that she has 
 human intelligence in her methods of helping, and at 
 the same time influencing, the reason that governs 
 the helm and incarnate walks the quarter-deck or 
 bridge. It was about a quarter-past seven; the 
 sailors resumed the business of washing down; the 
 decks sparkled as the brine flashed along the planks, 
 and the boatswain stimulated this sweetening process 
 by the inspiriting language of the land of the slush- 
 lamp. The captain stood right aft watching the 
 receding figure of the barque's fat boat. The placid
 
 132 * The Mate of the Good Ship York f* 
 
 heave of the deep was crisped by the delicate 
 crumbling foam curling from low, blue brows to the 
 gentle gushing of the pleasant breeze, like some 
 scene of swelling land enamelled with white flowers ; 
 the blankness to leeward had melted into azure, and 
 it was all blueness and brightness, and you heard a 
 song that was sweet with its summer note upon the 
 harp-strings of the lofty spars. 
 
 " What will they do with him ? " said the captain, 
 going to the companion and resting his hand upon 
 it as though in a moment he would descend. 
 
 " I am wondering, sir," answered Hardy, who 
 stood near. " I should not like to be in the power 
 of that bo'sun after I had killed his brother." 
 
 " Death drugs revenge ; I would not kill my 
 enemy," said the captain, putting on one of those 
 incommunicable looks which always alarmed Hardy 
 with thoughts of the ship's safety. " I would keep 
 my brother's murderer alive at sea. There is the 
 middle-watch and the ghastly face of the moon! 
 Whispers aloft and God's eye in every star! The 
 ghostly figure should walk the quarter-deck with the 
 assassin, should enter his berth with him, and sit 
 beside his bunk and watch him. That is the revenge 
 that kills the soul the very thought makes me 
 sweat." 
 
 His face changed into an expression of agitation, 
 and with a sudden hurry he disappeared down the 
 companion-steps. 
 
 Hardy watched the French boat draw alongside 
 the barque. He wondered that the captain should 
 have left the deck at such a time; it was another 
 illustration of his insanity, no doubt. " He has gone 
 to see to little Johnny, perhaps," the mate thought,
 
 $ The French Mate f 133 
 
 what had happened having faded in the chaotic 
 muddle of his reason. Here was Captain Layard, 
 who was determined to make a swift passage, keep- 
 ing his ship hove to and going below to talk to his 
 bright-haired boy, to help him dress maybe, and 
 to muse in lopsided moralising over the medicine 
 chest. 
 
 He took the glass, and levelled it at the barque, 
 and saw the boat slowly ascending in spasmodic 
 jerks to the davits. A few men dragged at the falls, 
 and upon the port quarter of the poop the rest of 
 the ship's company apparently had assembled, and 
 were clearly discussing the recapture of the mate 
 with the heat and passion of the French when ex- 
 cited. They gesticulated, they surged and reeled, 
 and Hardy again saw one or another of them fling 
 his hand in the direction of the fore yard-arm. 
 
 He could not see if the mate stood amongst them, 
 and all forward was vacant deck, pulsating with the 
 shadow of swinging sail. There was nothing else in 
 sight all away round the girdle of the deep, though 
 this was a frequented sea ; and the two vessels, to a 
 distant eye, might have seemed abandoned, so aim- 
 less was the look they got from the white cloths 
 incurving to the masts. 
 
 About ten minutes after the boat had been hoisted, 
 Hardy, who continued to watch the barque through 
 the glass, saw several men go forward, and shortly 
 after a man got .into the fore-rigging, and crawled 
 aloft and gained the fore-yard. The powerful lenses 
 brought the barque close, and Hardy easily saw, as 
 he followed the man sliding to the yard-arm, that he 
 carried a tail-block in his hand. He made this 
 block fast to the extremity of the yard, and whilst he
 
 134 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 was doing this another man got into the fore-rigging 
 holding a line, the end of which he gave to the 
 fellow on the yard, who rove it through the block, 
 and then came into the fore-rigging grasping the 
 line, and both men descended to the deck. 
 
 Hardy rushed to the companionway and shouted 
 down the hatch, taking his chance of the skipper 
 hearing him, " They are going to hang that mate 
 who killed the captain ! " 
 
 A moment or two later up came Captain Layard. 
 
 " What's that you sang out ? " he cried. " What's 
 wrong? I'm with Johnny." 
 
 " Look for yourself, sir," answered Hardy, and 
 he gave the glass to him. The captain pointed it. 
 Mad or not mad, he knew what a yard-arm whip 
 was, and what in this case it signified. He saw a 
 crowd of men on the forecastle ; he distinguished the 
 figure of the mate, with his arms pinioned behind 
 him, standing within a fathom of the rail rounding 
 to the forecastle break. As he gazed he saw a man 
 bandage the wretch's eyes with a red handkerchief. 
 The same man next secured the end of the line to 
 the man's neck, and the captain, with the telescope 
 at his eye, began to mutter, and Hardy saw that his 
 face had turned a greenish yellow, but he could not 
 understand what he said, nor clearly perceive, as did 
 the captain, all that was happening aboard that 
 tragic barque, with its wift at the gaff-end beating 
 the air like a human arm in agony. 
 
 In the captain's glass the bulk of the forecastle 
 crowd melted and could not be seen on the main- 
 deck. One who was left and the muttering cap- 
 tain thought that he was the boatswain held a 
 book and seemed to be reading from it. The two
 
 f The French Mate 135 
 
 men kept the barque's victim pinned to the rail ; the 
 man who was reading closed his book and raised his 
 arm straight up, looking toward the main-deck. 
 The two men sprang back from the murderer, whose 
 figure soared aloft, a ghastly shape of man flying 
 wingless to the yard-arm. 
 
 " O my God!" cried Hardy, who saw it, and 
 the crew of the York, watching that picture of short 
 shrift and flying form, groaned and cursed with 
 British hatred of the sudden execution, made das- 
 tardly by numbers. 
 
 They could see the man rushed to the nape of his 
 neck to the yard-arm block, then fall, bringing up 
 with a sudden belaying of that gallows-rope, and 
 the hanging man began to swing like a pendulum of 
 death midway betwixt the yard-arm and the feather- 
 ing surface of the sea. 
 
 " Suppose he didn't do it? " said Captain Layard, 
 letting the telescope sink and turning his face slowly 
 to Hardy, who thought, even in that moment of 
 horror and astonishment, that the captain had 
 spoken nothing saner since the voyage began. " Fill 
 on your topsail," continued the captain, in a trem- 
 bling voice, his face distorted by passions and fancies 
 beyond the penetration of reason. " I wouldn't have 
 Johnny see that sight; they'll keep him swinging 
 till he has ticked out the minutes his soul has taken 
 to arrive in hell. Fill on your topsail, sir. And 
 what'll the beggars do? They'll wait for help to 
 come along." 
 
 The mate was walking a little way forward, and 
 the captain, with his back upon the barque, stood 
 muttering to himself. It was a pleasant breeze, and 
 the ship took the weight of the sunlit gush of blue
 
 136 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York 9 
 
 wind with a buoyant heel, and then she broke the 
 waters at the bow. In two hours the barque was 
 glimmering like the crest of a sea in the liquid ether 
 far and far astern. Her topsail was still aback, and 
 doubtless, as Captain Layard had said, she was 
 waiting for the help that must soon come along.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 LOST! 
 
 AND now for another week of this ship's adven- 
 ture. There is little to record. As she drove to 
 the south and west the breeze freshened by strokes, 
 and the foam, white as daylight, seethed with a lee- 
 ward roll to the channels, whose plates flashed 
 jewelled fountains from her side. 
 
 It was noble sailing with a buckling stu'nsail 
 boom, and every taut weather-shroud and backstay 
 spirited the sea-whitening keel with sweet, clear 
 songs of rejoicing. All the crew loved little Johnny, 
 and the great Newfoundland, placid, stately, and 
 benign, was ever at his side, courting the boy, with 
 looks of love, to play. Always in this fine weather 
 the sunny-haired lad, in the miniature clothes of the 
 bluejacket, would of a dog-watch take his drum 
 upon the forecastle, and roll out a good rattling ac- 
 companiment to the cheerful piping of the whistle. 
 Then the sailors would dance whilst the ship's stem 
 rent the water into sweat, and the bow-sea rolled 
 away in glory, and the western heavens grew 
 majestical with sunset. 
 
 And all this time no man spoke a hint as to the 
 captain's state of mind, because, as I have said, 
 the sailor has no eyes for the human nature of the 
 quarter-deck until it should become as visible and 
 demonstrative as a windmill in a wind. 
 
 137
 
 138 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 This Captain Layard was not; his moods and 
 motions were of too subtle a sort to be interpretable 
 by the forecastle gaze, and all the strange uncon- 
 scious discoveries of himself he limited to Hardy, 
 scarcely ever speaking to the second mate unless to 
 give him an order. But even when he talked to 
 Hardy, no man could have sworn that he was mad- 
 der than most dreamers are. It was only, as Hardy 
 thought, that his talk was so cursedly inconsequen- 
 tial. He reminded him of a diver who if you look 
 to port comes up to starboard, whose spot of emer- 
 gence is always somewhere else. 
 
 One day, at the end of the time just spoken of, 
 the ship was stretching her length along a wide blue 
 sea enriched with running knolls, shadowed by 
 themselves into deepest violet, aflash with sudden 
 meltings of foam which whitened the windward 
 picture, and ran with smooth curves from the lee- 
 ward yeast that rushed into the water from the side. 
 
 The captain was below. It was about ten o'clock 
 in the morning. There was now a sting in the light 
 of the sun, as he floated upwards in an almost tropic 
 glory, undimmed by the flight of little clouds which 
 hinted at the Trade. Our friend the chief mate, 
 Hardy, was walking up and down the weather-side 
 of the quarter-deck. A sailor stood at the wheel 
 trim for his trick ; he was a British seaman, his easy 
 floating figure and swift look to windward, aloft, 
 and into the compass bowl put thoughts into one's 
 head of the time when men like him wore pigtails 
 down their backs and fired the fury of hell, as' the 
 Spaniard said to Nelson, into the gunports and sides 
 of the audacious enemy. 
 
 There was music on that quarter-deck, for
 
 $ Lost! 9 139 
 
 Johnny, who was admiral of that ship, the captain 
 being very much under him, had sent for the whistle, 
 and the sailor had come at once, bringing his music 
 with him. He was seated upon the skylight, and 
 was piping that cheerful song, " A Wet Sheet and 
 a Flowing Sea," all over the ship to the delight of 
 the watch on deck, who worked the nimbler for it; 
 and Johnny made martial music of that sea-song 
 with his drum. 
 
 The ship rushed along with festive lifts and falls 
 and triumphant choruses in her weather-rigging 
 as the swing of the sea brought her masts to wind- 
 ward, and all was beauty and sunlight, and white 
 phantoms of little sailing clouds, and swelling can- 
 vas yearning to the azure recess at which the ship, 
 like some goddess of the sea, was pointing with her 
 spear of jibboom. 
 
 Presently the boy grew tired; the piper went 
 forward, and as the captain's servant came along 
 Johnny gave him his drum and sticks to carry below. 
 The great Newfoundland was lying at its length 
 beside the skylight, and Johnny sat upon him, and 
 lifting his ear talked into it, and the dog grunted in 
 affectionate reply. But little boys soon tire of any- 
 thing save sweets, and Johnny joined Hardy, and 
 they walked together. The lad had a very inquisi- 
 tive mind, and was constantly wanting to know. 
 He began to question Hardy about the ship. What 
 is the good of that little sail right on top up there? 
 Why didn't they give each mast one great sail? 
 Wouldn't that save trouble? Couldn't they let it 
 down, and tie it up, as they did that middle sail there, 
 when the weather grew nasty ? Wouldn't Hardy be 
 glad to get home ? How old was he ? Was he glad
 
 140 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 to be so old ? Wouldn't he rather be eight ? After 
 much interrogative conversation of this sort he felt 
 tired, and strayed from Hardy's side and walked 
 about the quarter-deck, looking around him as 
 though he wished to pick up something which he 
 could throw at the sea. 
 
 Going right aft, abaft the man at the wheel, his 
 arch, sweet, wondering eyes were taken by the sight 
 of some Mother Carey's chickens ; also the splendid, 
 dazzling stream of wake that was rushing off in 
 snake-like undulations attracted him. A stretch of 
 ash-white grating protected the wheel-chains and the 
 relieving gear. It stood a little way under the taff- 
 rail and was not very high above the deck, and the 
 tiller worked under it. 
 
 Unnoticed by Hardy, Johnny got upon this grat- 
 ing to watch the sea-birds, also to obtain a view of 
 the place where that giddy, boiling, meteoric river 
 of foam began. A sea-bird is a thing of beauty, 
 which is a joy to a little boy upon whom the shades 
 of the prison-house have not yet begun to close ; and 
 the dazzle of spinning foam hurling seawards is also 
 a beauty and a wonder and a miracle, as are many 
 other things in this pleasant world of flowers and 
 valleys and streams; for I have seen a little child 
 pick a daisy and view it with greater transport than 
 could even be felt by a beautiful young woman 
 bending with beaming eyes over the bracelet of 
 diamonds with which her lover has just clasped her 
 wrist. 
 
 Johnny fell upon his knees and crawled upon the 
 grating to the taffrail, the flat surface of which he 
 kneeled upon, peering over and down betwixt the 
 gig and the taffrail to see the place where the white
 
 ^ Lost! f> 141 
 
 water began under the counter. The poor little 
 fellow overbalanced himself, and Hardy, whose eye 
 was upon him in that instant, saw him vanish. 
 
 " O my God ! " he shrieked. " Man overboard! " 
 he shouted. "Hard down! hard down!" 
 
 And whilst the wheel went grinding up to wind- 
 ward, and whilst the sails aloft were beginning to 
 thunder to the weather sweep of the rushing bows, 
 Hardy, tearing off his coat and waistcoat and shoes, 
 leaped from the quarter into the boiling yeast and 
 struck out. 
 
 Scarcely had he shot overboard when the great 
 dog Sailor, springing up with a swift movement of 
 his head around, leapt like a darting flame on to 
 the rail from which Hardy had plunged, and jumped. 
 There was plenty of foam in the sea, and it was 
 almost blinding Hardy, who swam strongly; but it 
 did not blind the dog, who saw the mate but not the 
 child, and made for him. A sea swept Hardy to its 
 summit, and he perceived the child some three or 
 four cables' length distant; a head of foam rolled 
 over that sun-bright speck and it disappeared, and 
 as Hardy sank into the trough the dog, that 
 stemmed the brine like some swiftly-urged boat, 
 caught him by the collar and forced him round in the 
 direction of the ship, whose main-yards were now 
 aback and one of whose lee quarter boats was rapidly 
 descending, with the captain on the grating, waving 
 his arms in frantic and heart-subduing pantomime. 
 
 " Sailor ! " roared Hardy, struggling with his 
 whole force to round the noble creature's head in the 
 direction where he had seen the bright point vanish. 
 " O God ! doggie, dear doggie ! Johnny is over- 
 board, and drowning! Go for him, Sailor! go for 
 him, Sailor ! "
 
 142 Q The Mate of the Good Ship York 
 
 And buoyed by the magnificent swimmer whose 
 teeth were in his collar, he stiffened his breast and 
 pointed. But the Newfoundland, who had not seen 
 Johnny fall, had leapt to save the life of Hardy, and 
 with bitter, blighting despair in his heart the gallant 
 young fellow felt the beautiful animal at his side 
 urging him irresistibly up one slope and down 
 another in the direction of the ship, with its dreadful 
 figure of human anguish gesticulating and shouting 
 on the grating. 
 
 The hearts that bent the blades rowed with love 
 of the boy and a maddening passion to save him. 
 They came to Hardy first and dragged him and the 
 dog over the gunwale, and a man standing up in the 
 stern-sheets steered the boat for the place where 
 the little fellow had last been seen from the deck 
 of the ship. But they rowed in vain. Sodden with 
 brine, and half blinded by the tears of a manly 
 sailor's heart, the mate strained his vision over the 
 running seas, and knew, O God! and knew that 
 Johnny had sunk for ever. 
 
 " Oh, what a pity ! " said one of the men. 
 
 " The dog could have saved him," exclaimed 
 another. 
 
 " No, he was gone before the dog could have 
 reached the place," said Hardy, and he sank upon a 
 thwart and covered his face. 
 
 The Newfoundland laid his massive jaws upon 
 his knee in caress and in encouragement, knowing he 
 was saved, and loving him as those majestic crea- 
 tures love the life they have torn from the grasp of 
 death. The men, with the lifted blades of their oars 
 sparkling in the sun, gazed silently around, but 
 Johnny was gone. The tall seas seethed, and the
 
 9 Lost ! $ 143 
 
 boat fell away with their melting heads and rose 
 buoyant to the height of the next slant, but Johnny 
 was gone, and after they had lingered half an hour 
 the men, to the command of Hardy, turned the 
 boat's head toward the ship, and rowed away from 
 that sun-lighted scene of ocean grave which already 
 the hand of viewless love had strewn with flowers 
 and garlands of foam. 
 
 Captain Layard was standing with tightly folded 
 arms beside the skylight when Hardy arrived on 
 board, and approached him, shuddering with grief 
 and with the exhaustion that attends even a brief 
 spell of battling with the rolling seas of the ocean. 
 The unhappy father's face was utterly unintelligible 
 in expression. And still a critical eye, with good 
 capacity for subtle penetration, would in this time 
 of sudden and awful bereavement have witnessed in 
 that poor man's face the dangerous condition of his 
 soul. 
 
 The men who were hoisting the boat pulled with 
 askant looks full of respect and rough sympathy, and 
 the boat rose in silence, so touched were the sailors' 
 hearts by this sudden loss of the bright-haired little 
 darling of the ship. The Newfoundland, shaking 
 a shower from his coat, came to the captain, seemed 
 to know that grief was in him, and looked up at 
 him. 
 
 " Where is my little Johnny ? " said the captain to 
 Hardy, in a firm, sharp tone. 
 
 Hardy could not answer him. 
 
 " There is no good in telling me that he's not on 
 board this ship," said the captain, letting fall his 
 arms and swaying in a strange way with the leeward 
 and weather rolls of the arrested vessel. " Where is 
 he hidden?"
 
 144 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 He stepped to the companion and shouted down, 
 " Johnny, Johnny, my darling ! Come up with your 
 drum ! The men want music ! Come up with your 
 drum, my Johnny ! " 
 
 The sailors belayed the falls of the boat and 
 secured her, and slowly walked forward, never a one 
 of them speaking. The captain went below, calling 
 " Johnny." Mr. Candy came up to Hardy. Both he 
 and the watch below had rushed on deck to that 
 dreadful cry at sea of " Man overboard ! " and to 
 that sudden change you feel in a ship when the yards 
 of the main are swung aback. All the concern that 
 a man with white eyelashes and pale hair and a skin 
 like a cut of roasted veal can look was in Candy's 
 face as he said : 
 
 " This blow has turned the captain's head, sir." 
 
 " I cannot speak to you," Hardy answered. 
 
 " Let me fetch you some brandy, sir," said the 
 second mate. Hardy raised his arm. Candy walked 
 to the quarter and stood staring at the sea where 
 the child had sunk. The Newfoundland dog was 
 growing uneasy. You saw by the creature's motion 
 of head and by other signs that he knew something 
 was wrong. Twice he growled low and walked 
 round the skylight smelling the planks, then coming 
 to the companionway he listened and sprang down 
 the steps. 
 
 Hardy stood waiting for the captain. It was not 
 for him to order the topsail-yard to be swung until 
 the captain spoke. All the seamen were forward 
 standing in groups waiting for the command, and 
 the boatswain, in the face of the general grief, could 
 find nothing for them to do until the quarter-deck 
 started them.
 
 I 
 
 Lost ! f 145 
 
 It filled Hardy with anguish, though he was only 
 a mate in the British Merchant Service, the one un- 
 recognised condition of our national life, spite of 
 the pleading of its heroic traditions and the claims 
 of its English seamen of to-day, upon the admira- 
 tion of their country, to think of the poor, desolate, 
 brain-afflicted father below, seeeking in his madness 
 his beloved little boy. He knew that this man had 
 tenderly loved the mother of that child and mourned 
 her loss with a sailor's heart, and that the bright and 
 spirited lad, whom God had summoned, had been his 
 constant companion since his wife's death, the light 
 of his life, the flower whose fragrance had sweetened 
 the loneliness of command. 
 
 He stood waiting, soaked to the flesh. Suddenly 
 the captain appeared. 
 
 " Johnny is not below," he said. " He's some- 
 where in the ship. When did you see him last, 
 Mr. Hardy?" 
 
 And still Hardy could not answer him. The 
 Newfoundland had followed his master, and the 
 whole frame and benign eyes of the noble creature, 
 to whom and to whose like man denies a soul, 
 yielded preternatural token of loss and disquiet that 
 was human in eloquence. 
 
 The captain did not seem to heed Hardy's silence 
 and manner. He looked with great eagerness and 
 a certain wildness along the decks, and then putting 
 his hand to the side of his mouth, with his face 
 turned forward, where the men stood watching him, 
 he shouted in an imperious voice as though he would 
 frighten an answer from the concealed child : 
 
 " Johnny ! It is strange," said he, in a low voice, 
 turning and looking at Hardy, " Is he aloft?" And
 
 146 <** The Mate of the Good Ship York *9* 
 
 he turned his eyes up and scrutinised the rigging, the 
 tops, the crosstrees, the yards, stepping to the rail 
 so as to obtain a view past the leaches of the canvas. 
 
 " Shall I order those yards to be swung, sir, and 
 way got upon the ship? " said Hardy, speaking with 
 difficulty. 
 
 " I want Johnny," was the captain's answer, and 
 he walked slowly forward, looking to right and left 
 of him, as though the little lad must be in hiding 
 somewhere, flat beside a forward coaming or behind 
 a hencoop, or under the long-boat, for his figure 
 had been small, and he could have concealed himself 
 within the fakes of the halliards coiled down upon 
 a pin. 
 
 The men drew back, scattered in a kind of dis- 
 solving way, gazed with sheepish looks of sympathy, 
 one rugged man with damp eyes, for he too had 
 lost a son beloved with the rough love of a heart 
 unhardened by salt and toil. 
 
 " Has any man among you," said the captain, 
 bringing his head out of the galley door for the 
 child had been a frequent guest of the cooks of the 
 ships he had sailed in: they would make him jam 
 tarts and little cakes, and his prattle to the fellows 
 was as cheering to them as the song of a canary 
 " has any man among you," he said, " seen my 
 little boy?" 
 
 " I don't think you'll find him forward, sir," an- 
 swered the boatswain. " Jim, jump below and see 
 if he's in the fok'sle." 
 
 The sailors exchanged looks which seemed to 
 suggest that they thought it kind and wise in the 
 boatswain to humour the captain, whose mind, to 
 them, appeared a little shaken and made uncertain 
 by the shock of his loss,
 
 $ Lost! f 147 
 
 " No, I'll trust no man's eyes but mine," ex- 
 claimed the captain, with a lofty expression of face, 
 and, going to the scuttle, which is the little hatch 
 through which the seamen drop into their parlour, 
 he put his legs over and descended. 
 
 One man only was in this forecastle. He was 
 the young seaman who had played the whistle whilst 
 Johnny beat the drum. He started up at the sight 
 of the captain, amazed by a visit that was unpar- 
 alleled in his experience or recollection of forecastle 
 story. His face showed marks of unaffected dis- 
 tress, and indeed this rude but sympathetic heart 
 had been seated for some minutes prior to the cap- 
 tain's entrance, with bowed head resting in his 
 wart-toughened palms, thinking of the child and 
 his sudden death. 
 
 It was a strange, gloomy interior. The swing 
 of the lamp kept the shadows on the wing, and oil- 
 skins and coats swayed upon the ship's wall to the 
 solemn plunge of the bows, and you heard the roar 
 of the smitten and recoiling surge in a low thunder, 
 like the sound of a railway train striking through 
 the soil into a vault. Some bunks went curving into 
 the gloom past the light which fell through the 
 hatch, and a few hammocks stretched their pale, 
 bale-like lengths under the upper deck. Here, too, 
 were sea-chests a few only and odds and ends 
 of sea-boots, and the raffle of the sailor's ocean 
 home. 
 
 "Where's my son? Is he down here?" ex- 
 claimed the captain, haggard, and with something 
 dreadful in his looks in that light, uttering the words 
 as peremptorily as ever he delivered an order on 
 the quarter-deck.
 
 148 & The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 The young fellow gazed aghast at him in silence. 
 
 The captain, who did not seem to heed whether 
 he was answered or not, went to the bunks and ex- 
 amined them one by one, knelt and looked under 
 them, felt the sagged canvas of the hammocks. Oh, 
 it was pitiful ! 
 
 " He's not here," he exclaimed, turning to the 
 young sailor. " Have you got your whistle handy ? 
 Pull it out and pipe. The music will bring him with 
 his drum." 
 
 The young man went to his bunk and took the 
 whistle from the head of it. His face was full of 
 awe and wonder; it was a bit of psychology, a 
 trick or two above all his art of seamanship. 
 
 " What shall I play, sir? " he asked, in a shaking 
 voice, with a glance up through the scuttle at the 
 men gathered near and listening. 
 
 " What's his favourite tune? " said the captain. 
 
 The young fellow reflected, and answered, " ' Sally 
 come up,' sir. It runs well with the drum." 
 
 " Play it," said the captain. 
 
 The young fellow put the whistle to his lips and 
 blew. The contrast between the merry air, shrilling 
 in the forecastle and out through the hatch into the 
 bright wind, and the captain's half -triumphant face 
 of expectancy would have melted a heart of steel. 
 The poor man stepped under the little hatch and 
 shouted up, " On deck there ! " 
 
 " Sir," answered the boatswain, showing himself. 
 
 " Can this whistle be heard aft? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Watch a bit, and report if he's coming." 
 
 The young seaman, who was nearly heartbroken
 
 Lost ! $ 149 
 
 with his obligation of playing, continued to pipe, and 
 you beheld a vision of dancing sailors, and swelling 
 canvas reverberating the rattle of the drum. 
 
 The captain waited under the hatch, his poor face 
 charged with ardent expectation. He might have 
 overheard a gruff voice say, " It oughtn't to be al- 
 lowed to go on. He'd get all right if he'd go to 
 his cabin, where it 'ud come to him." But he paid 
 no heed. 
 
 Suddenly the whistling ceased, and the young 
 fellow, flinging his whistle into his bunk, cried, " It's 
 choking me, sir." 
 
 The captain looked at him, and saying, " Where 
 is Johnny? " climbed through the hatch and, without 
 a word to the sailors, walked slowly aft. 
 
 The whole ship seemed to tremble throughout her 
 frame with every lift and fall, as though like some- 
 thing alive she was now startled by this strange 
 delay, and the foretopmast studdingsail curved 
 with the weight of the wind from its boom, and no 
 doubt, in the language of sailcloth, cursed the main- 
 topsail for stopping its eager drag. 
 
 Hardy stood beside the second mate, to leeward, 
 on the quarter-deck, and watched the captain coming 
 aft. The great dog in a leap gained his master's 
 side and marched with him, looking with beautiful 
 sagacity up into the poor man's face. The captain 
 walked with his eyes fixed upon the sky, just over 
 the sea-line astern, but if speculation were in his 
 gaze it was not interpretable ; he saw, or seemed to 
 see, something beyond the blue haze of distance, and 
 thus he watched it, without speaking to the two 
 mates, or turning his eyes upon them, until he came
 
 150 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 to the companion-hatch, down whose steps he went, 
 followed by the dog. 
 
 Noon was near and an observation must be taken. 
 Hardy, whose clothes were plastered by water upon 
 him, said to Candy : 
 
 " We must get an observation and swing the 
 yards. This blow has thrown his mind off its bal- 
 ance, and he might not thank us later if we should 
 go on as though he were responsible." 
 
 " I agree with you, sir," said Candy. 
 
 Hardy called to the boatswain, who came quickly. 
 
 " You know the law of the sea as well as I do," 
 said the mate, " and I don't want you and the men 
 to believe that I have taken charge of the ship even 
 for five minutes because I mean to get way upon 
 her." 
 
 " She wants it," said the boatswain, looking for- 
 ward along the ship as though she were a horse. 
 
 " I must get an observation," continued Hardy, 
 " and you and the men will judge that the captain 
 would wish me to do what he himself would do if 
 his terrible loss had left him capable of doing any- 
 thing." 
 
 " It don't need reasoning about, sir," said the 
 boatswain. 
 
 " Hands lay aft and swing the maintopsail-yard ! " 
 shouted Hardy. " Lee mainbrace ! Mr. Candy, will 
 you step below for your sextant? Kindly bring 
 mine." 
 
 Candy went below. The men came running aft. 
 But the shadow of death was upon the ship, bright, 
 boundless, and streaming with the life of the wind 
 as were heaven and ocean, and the sailors dragged
 
 $ Lost! 151 
 
 the great yards round in silence. The ship heeled 
 over a little more to the full swell of her canvas, 
 and as Hardy took his sextant from Candy she was 
 bursting the blue surge into white glory, and the 
 leeward foam was passing fast and faster.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE INDIAMAN'S BOAT 
 
 THE seas were breaking fast and fierce from the 
 bows, and the wake flashed into the windy distance 
 in a fan-shaped splendour as of sunshine, and hands 
 were aloft furling the fore and mizzen royals, and 
 some fore-and-aft canvas was rattling hanks and 
 lacing on their stays to the drag of down-hauls; 
 the ship was sonorous with the music of the sea, and 
 by looking over the weather side you could have 
 seen the green sheathing sweating with foam, storm- 
 ing through the dazzling smother like a wounded 
 dolphin whose blood is sweet to dolphins; yet this 
 was but a fragment of the magnificent picture of 
 foaming seas and flying cloud, with the lofty swell- 
 ing ship shearing through the heart of the day in a 
 thunder-storm of prisms and of spray, lovely as the 
 heights of heaven when some stars are green and 
 some shine like the rose. 
 
 Hardy came on deck. He stood and looked about 
 him, refreshed by a shift of clothes and by a nip of 
 grog. He had worked out his sights, and before 
 mounting the steps had stood a minute at the cap- 
 tain's door listening ; he heard the poor man's voice, 
 and judged by its solemn imploring note that he 
 was praying, but the noise of the sailors above made
 
 ^ The Indiaman's Boat $ 153 
 
 him hurry, and though it was his watch below he 
 felt that he was in command, and that the safety of 
 the ship was in his hands. 
 
 Any seaman will understand this mate's critical 
 and difficult situation. A captain is not to be lightly 
 deposed ; drunken captains and unless they grow 
 frantic mad captains must be obeyed or endured 
 or it is mutiny, with heavy penalties awaiting the 
 arrival of the ship ; and the mate of a merchantman 
 may, though by conscientious act, lose power of 
 earning bread for himself and his home unless as 
 a foremast hand, for the law is hard, and the ship- 
 owner harder still. 
 
 " You had better take the mainsail off her, Mr. 
 Candy, and furl the main-royal," said Hardy. "She 
 has more than she wants." 
 
 The stu'nsail was in and so was the boom, and 
 Hardy gave other directions, but they need not be 
 repeated because minuteness is tedious, and the 
 language of the sea cryptic to millions. When 
 Sheridan was asked how the poetaster described 
 the phoenix, he answered, " Just as a poulterer 
 would ! " The poulterer is not good in art, and 
 the beak, talons, and all are merits when left out. 
 
 It was about a quarter to one, and the cabin 
 dinner would be coming aft soon. The cook was 
 busy in his galley, and black smoke was smothering 
 the bulwarks abreast from the chimney. Hardy 
 paced the deck watching the seamen at work, Candy 
 superintended the business. There was plenty for 
 the mate to think of. The grief planted in his kind 
 heart, by recollection of his hopeless effort to rescue 
 the poor drowned child, was overwhelmed by 
 thoughts of the captain, his undoubted madness, the
 
 154 + The Mate of the Good Ship York -$> 
 
 state of the ship; and then his mind on a sudden 
 went away to Julia Armstrong; he wondered what 
 would be her fortune, if luck would attend her in 
 India, if her love for him he would not pretend 
 aught else to himself would hold her unwilling to 
 remain, that she might return in the vessel and meet 
 him once more; " In which case," he declared to 
 himself, " I will marry her and chance it." 
 
 The ship was rushing onward like a shooting star, 
 and the wind clothed the sails with the thunder of 
 its power; but she was comfortable and dry. The 
 bright bursts were flung clear of her by the rush of 
 the breeze, and she took the seas with that perfect 
 grace of leap and curtsey which sails alone do give. 
 
 As Hardy walked, the cabin servant came up to 
 him and reported dinner on the table. 
 
 " Have you told the captain ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "Is he at table?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Hardy went below. The captain was in his accus- 
 tomed place cutting at a big meat pie ; his brow was 
 knitted, and with the whole strength of his soul he 
 seemed intent upon this job of cutting the pie. His 
 long hair and the hair upon his cheeks and chin 
 accentuated the expression of his pale face, which 
 was one of wildness and of grief so subtle that it 
 might scarcely be known as grief by the heart that 
 ached with it; but when he raised his eyes, Hardy 
 saw a darkness upon his vision as though the 
 shadow of death was on his eyelids. 
 
 " Will you have some of this pie ? " said he, quite 
 sanely. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," answered Hardy.
 
 $ The Indiaman's Boat $ 155 
 
 " We'll shift for ourselves," said the captain, turn- 
 ing to the attendant. " Bring whatever else there is 
 in 'a quarter of an hour." 
 
 The man left the cabin. The captain, with knife 
 and fork poised, without serving Hardy viewed him 
 intently during a short passage of silence, and then 
 said: 
 
 " Johnny has strayed away from this ship and he's 
 left his drum behind him, but," he added, smiling 
 with his heart-moving smile of superiority, " I shall 
 find him." 
 
 He loaded a plate and thrust it at the length of 
 his arm toward Hardy, who took it. 
 
 " Are not you eating, sir? " said Hardy. 
 
 "How's the ship?" was the answer. 
 
 Hardy reported the sail she was under. The 
 question, the all-important question, whether sights 
 had been taken, was not asked. The captain took a 
 piece of meat out of the pie and gave it to the New- 
 foundland, who sat beside him on the deck. 
 
 " I don't like rich clergymen," he said, abruptly. 
 " The man who steers his ship to the glowing gates 
 of heaven should be rich in heart and love. The 
 precious freight is that; let him despise the devil's 
 cargo. I once said to a wealthy parson, ' Take up 
 your cross and follow me. D'ye remember it, sir? 
 but you and the like of you give your cross to the 
 coachman and get inside.' ' 
 
 He spoke this in a voice of thunder, and his face 
 was grotesque. Hardy was eating with difficulty. 
 The chatter of the afflicted brain is a pain to the 
 hearer, for the sane strokes make the inconsequential 
 talk as ghastly as the lifelike motions of the electri- 
 fied corpse.
 
 156 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 From time to time the dog got up and moved 
 about the cabin sniffing. He was missing Johnny. 
 He would come to Hardy's side and turn his gentle, 
 affectionate eyes up at the mate's face in such 
 dumb inquiry as would be holy if it were human; 
 then he would go to the captain and do the like. The 
 poor man played with some meat out of the pie, 
 but did not eat. He had been educated at a great 
 public school and his speech and voice had the cul- 
 ture of breeding, and the lapses and diversions of 
 the talk that he addressed to Hardy made his lan- 
 guage more pitiful than shocking. He as often 
 spoke wisely as insanely, but Hardy saw, even whilst 
 he sat, that the loss of his boy had confirmed in him 
 his lamentable prepossession. He was mad, but in 
 such fashion that unless he acted visibly the mad- 
 man's part the crew would fail to see it. 
 
 The attendant came down with more food for the 
 cabin, and this the captain did not touch. Presently 
 he abruptly rose and entered his berth, reappeared 
 with his cap on, and slowly stepped up the compan- 
 ion-ladder. 
 
 It was Hardy's hope that the poor fellow might 
 give such orders as would induce the men to suspect 
 him mad, although he felt they would believe he was 
 only temporarily deranged by the bitter loss which 
 had left him heart-broken; and yet some heedless 
 or absurd order, some unintelligible shifting of the 
 course, for example, some needless setting or reduc- 
 tion of canvas, must act like a surgical operation and 
 quicken their scent, which would help him to come 
 to a decision as to the right thing to be done; and 
 whilst he went on munching his dinner he found 
 himself repeatedly glancing at the telltale compass
 
 $ The Indiaman's Boat $ 157 
 
 and listening for the captain's voice. But the ship 
 sped steadily straight forward, and the captain re- 
 mained silent though his tread was audible. 
 
 A little while before the mate had finished his 
 dinner Mr. Candy came below. This was unusual : 
 in the ordinary movement of discipline he should 
 have waited to be relieved by Hardy. 
 
 " The captain told me to go and get my dinner, 
 sir," said the second mate. 
 
 " All right," said Hardy. 
 
 Mr. Candy sat down and began to help himself. 
 Hardy had no particular fondness for this man : he 
 was the son of a pilot, and one of those people who 
 add nothing to the dignity of a service which in its 
 day, in point of breeding, in all art of seamanship, 
 in structure of vessel, was as good as the Royal 
 Navy. Witness, for example, the men and ships of 
 John Company; for if no line-of-battle ships flew 
 the flag of that company, and the flags of the owners 
 of fleets of stately craft, ships of commerce had been 
 and were still then afloat as lordly in build, as 
 gracious and commanding in star-searching heights, 
 as the finest of the frigates of Britannia. But Candy 
 was second mate of the ship, and to that degree was 
 important. 
 
 " Captain Layard is very down," said Hardy. 
 " It's a cruel bad job. I loved the little boy, and the 
 dog that loved him too wouldn't let me save his life." 
 
 " It was plucky of you, sir, to jump overboard," 
 said the second mate. " All the time the captain 
 walks he looks to port and starboard, hunting like 
 with his eyes over the sea for the little drummer. 
 Strange he can't satisfy himself that the younker is 
 drowned, dead and gone."
 
 158 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York & 
 
 He was feeding heartily, and spoke in the inter- 
 vals of chewing. 
 
 " This shock," said Hardy, who saw that the man 
 was not to be talked to confidentially, " may have a 
 little weakened the poor father's mind for a time. 
 We'll assume it so for the common preservation; 
 therefore, in your watch on deck should he give 
 orders which might prove him thinking more of 
 Johnny than the ship, call me at once." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir!" 
 
 This said, Hardy went to his berth to smoke a 
 pipe and get some rest, for he could not know what 
 lay before him, and sleep is precious at sea. 
 
 At four o'clock Candy aroused him. The captain, 
 he learnt, had been below an hour. Nothing worth 
 reporting had happened during Candy's watch. 
 Hardy went on deck, and did not see the captain 
 throughout the first dog-watch. The breeze was 
 slightly scanting; the main-tack was boarded and 
 the main-royal loosed and set. Hardy, like a good 
 many other chief mates, was always for carrying on 
 whenever he was in charge, and the breeze blew and 
 the girls of the port he was bound to always hauled 
 with a will at his tow-rope. Besides, there was the 
 night's detention to be made good, and the clipper 
 was making it good as she sheared through the 
 coils of the sea, boiling in dim rose to the westering 
 light. It was like a field of hurdles to a favourite, 
 and she swept them with a bounding keel, slinging 
 rainbows as she went, and the surge sang in thunder 
 to the melodies of the rigging. 
 
 Hardy's whole thoughts concerned the captain. 
 He quite remembered that in the cabin of the 
 stricken father stood a medicine-chest full of deadly
 
 $ The Indiaman's Boat $ 159 
 
 poisons. Would he take his life? Full often the 
 demon of madness goes on beckoning to the ghastly 
 Feature till it springs. But what could the mate do ? 
 It was not within his right to remove the chest. If 
 he durst act in any way he would lock up the 
 captain at once, but he had the talk and opinions 
 of a crew of seamen to consider, and if the captain 
 should be revisited by the same degree of sanity 
 that had enabled him to navigate the vessel to this 
 point, how would Hardy stand, supposing and 
 supposition here involved a very possible contin- 
 gency that the captain, to preserve his own posi- 
 tion, should charge him with the ugliest breach of 
 discipline a merchant officer could be guilty of? 
 
 He did not meet the captain again till the supper 
 hour. The ship was then under all plain sail. The 
 west was glowing like a furnace, and the ocean was 
 calming to the softening of the breeze. The captain 
 came from his berth into the cabin as Hardy stood 
 beside the table. The meal was ready, and they 
 sat down. There was a curious look of satisfaction 
 in the captain's face. The acute eye of Hardy easily 
 saw that some soothing delusion was in possession 
 of the man. He asked two or three questions about 
 the ship, and quite sanely said : 
 
 " What did you make the latitude and longitude 
 to be at noon? " 
 
 Hardy answered the question. 
 
 The captain began to eat hungrily, and all the time 
 his face gave token of an inward content, lifting in- 
 deed into the pleasure of assured expectation; but 
 somehow there were visible in this lunatic web of 
 emotion threads of cunning clearly perceptible to 
 Hardy, who, perhaps, as the son of a doctor whose
 
 1 60 * The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 professional experiences he had often listened to, 
 was able to see a little deeper than the vision of a 
 plain seaman could penetrate. 
 
 " There is no doubt, Mr. Hardy," suddenly said 
 the captain, " that I shall be able to find Johnny." 
 
 " I hope so, sir," answered Hardy, gravely. 
 
 " I have no doubt," exclaimed the captain with a 
 sparkle of triumphant cunning lighting up his eyes. 
 " I must be patient and wait, for I've got to hear 
 where he is." 
 
 Hardy was silent. 
 
 " It may come to me in a dream," continued the 
 poor man, " or it may be revealed to me in a whisper. 
 I believe with Milton that the air is thronged with 
 millions of spiritual beings. I have in my watches, 
 when a mate, heard whispers in the dark ! I believe 
 in God the Father Almighty " and he recited the 
 Apostles' Creed whilst he stroked the head of his 
 dog, who sat at his side. " It is a glorious confes- 
 sion, Mr. Hardy. What should make a man more 
 religious than the sea life? They think us a breed 
 of blasphemers, but to whom is the glory and the 
 majesty and the power of the Supreme unfolded 
 if not to the sailor ? We behold the birth of the day, 
 and witness the sublimity of the Spirit in the glitter- 
 ing temples of the east, from which the sun springs, 
 to reveal the marvel of the ocean and the heavens to 
 the sight of man; and we witness the death of the 
 day, gorgeous and kingly in its departure, over 
 which the angels spread a funeral pall sparkling with 
 the diamonds of the night." 
 
 He pressed his hands to his brow and sighed with 
 that long tremor in which the broken heart often 
 vents itself.
 
 f The Indiaman's Boat + 161 
 
 The night passed quietly. The breeze yet slack- 
 ened and was blowing a gentle wind at midnight. 
 There was a moon somewhere in the sky, and her 
 light fell upon the dark waters, and the sight of 
 the small seas, curling in frosted silver through the 
 radiance, was as beautiful as the picture of the ship 
 stemming softly, her canvas stirless as carven shields 
 of marble. 
 
 The captain came and went throughout the night, 
 and no man aboard saving Hardy would have 
 dreamt of holding him mad and irresponsible. 
 Candy, when his watch was up, had nothing to 
 report but this : that the skipper would walk the 
 deck fast, abruptly halting at the weather-rail to 
 stare at the ocean in pauses running into minutes, 
 then crossing to the lee-rail to stare again in pas- 
 sages of dumb scrutiny. What more conceivable 
 than that the afflicted man should be full of the 
 memory of his lost child, and that he should break 
 off in his walk to meditate upon the mighty grave 
 in whose heart his little one was sleeping ? 
 
 Candy thought thus, and so did the helmsman, 
 who would find the men he talked to about it of his 
 own mind when he was relieved at the wheel and 
 went forward. 
 
 And so the night passed into the sad light of 
 dawn, which brightened into the glory of a morning 
 full of sunshine. The breeze had shifted three 
 points, and the ship was sailing slowly with the 
 yards square and the weather-clew of the mainsail 
 up. 
 
 Now was to happen the strangest incident in this 
 ship's adventure. It was Nelson who said that 
 nothing is impossible or improbable in sea-affairs,
 
 1 62 <9> The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 There is no invention of man that can top the 
 grim, the grotesque, the beautiful, the sublime, or 
 the touching facts which the great mystery of liquid 
 surface yields to human experience. 
 
 A seaman, who was sitting astride of the star- 
 board foretopsail yard-arm, busy with marline-spike 
 on some job that the lift needed, hailed the deck. 
 
 "Where away?" shouted Hardy from the quarter- 
 deck. 
 
 "Right ahead, sir," answered the man, who looked 
 a toy sailor, his white breeches trembling, and the 
 round of his back sharp-lined against the blue. 
 
 Hardy fetched the glass, and going to the mizzen- 
 rigging pointed it. He caught it instantly. It was 
 a boat, how far off it was impossible to say, for 
 distance, when a small object grows visible, is very 
 difficult to measure with the eye at sea, but she was 
 plain to the naked sight of the man on the yard-arm ; 
 the telescope brought her close, and Hardy counted 
 five figures in her, one of whom was standing on the 
 foremost thwart waving something, a shirt or a 
 piece of canvas. Her mast was stepped, but the 
 sail was down, and she lay waiting, vanishing and 
 reappearing as the shallow hollows ran sucking 
 under her. 
 
 When Hardy dropped the glass he found the 
 captain by his side. 
 
 " What is in sight ? " he exclaimed, speaking with 
 something of breathlessness, as though his heart was 
 tightened. 
 
 " A ship's boat, sir, with five people in her," 
 answered Hardy. 
 
 " I shall find him," exclaimed the captain, and the 
 old look of superiority to all human intelligence,
 
 $ The Indiaman's Boat $ 163 
 
 and the pathetic sparkle of cunning with which the 
 diseased brain will often illuminate the eye, were 
 perceptible to Hardy. " Give me the glass, sir." 
 
 The captain levelled it and was a long time in 
 looking, and all the time he looked he breathed slow 
 and deep like a man in heavy slumber. 
 
 " Stand by to back the foretopsail," he exclaimed. 
 " Let a hand be ready with a line and others to help 
 them aboard, for twice I have fallen in with people 
 so weakened by distress and famine and thirst O 
 God, that awful part of it that we have lifted 
 them like babies over the side." 
 
 Presently the boat was close under the bow ; the 
 foretopsail was aback, and the ship, heaving slowly 
 without way, was alongside the little fabric. 
 
 Her people were four men and a woman. The 
 men were seamen, apparelled in such clothes as the 
 merchant sailor went clad in. They staggered a 
 little as they stood up, and one in the bow reeled 
 as he caught the end of the line. The woman was 
 sitting in the stern-sheets. She wore a straw hat, 
 the shadow of whose brim darkened her face as a 
 veil might. She was clothed in a black jacket, and 
 the material of her dress was dark. Her head was 
 a little sunk, as though she was too weary to hold 
 it erect. 
 
 The captain, overlaying the rail, stared with bright 
 devouring eyes into the boat. He did not seem to 
 heed the people in her; he was looking for some- 
 thing else. 
 
 " Are you able to help the lady aboard? " shouted 
 Hardy. 
 
 " No, sir," answered the man who had caught the 
 line; " we've been adrift two days."
 
 164 *0 The Mate of the Good Ship York <Q> 
 
 His weak voice proclaimed the truth of his words. 
 At the sound of Hardy's cry the woman in the stern- 
 sheets lifted her head, and the shadow of the brim 
 of her hat slipped off her face. Hardy instantly 
 recognised her. 
 
 " Great God ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 He was struck motionless by astonishment, but his 
 faculties rallied in a breath; in a minute he had 
 sprung into the main chains, and a jump carried him 
 into the boat. 
 
 "O Mr. Hardy!" shrieked the girl, and she 
 tried to rise to clasp him, but her exhaustion was too 
 great and she could only sob. 
 
 " On deck there ! " shouted Hardy, who was 
 usurping all the privileges of the captain in that 
 moment of tumultuous sensations. " Send down a 
 chair and bear a hand." And whilst this well-under- 
 stood order was being executed it meant simply 
 a tail-block at the main yard-arm and a line rove 
 through the block with a cabin-chair secured to the 
 end of it and whilst the four nearly spent sailors 
 of the boat were being helped by the men in the 
 ship, Hardy was talking to Julia. 
 
 " What a meeting ! What has happened to vour 
 ship?" 
 
 Her lips were pale and a little cracked, her eyes 
 were languid, and dim with tears, a shadow as of 
 hollowness lay upon each cheek. She spoke with 
 difficulty. 
 
 " The Glamis Castle was burnt two days ago in 
 the night. We have been drifting about since then 
 without food or water. Oh, thank God for this! 
 thank God for this and to meet you! " 
 
 " Bear a hand, my lads, bear a hand," shouted
 
 The Indiaman's Boat * 165 
 
 Hardy, whilst the captain with his head showing 
 above the rail stood staring into the boat. The 
 mate would not tax her with speech; she might 
 be dying! Some alert seamen were in that clipper, 
 and to the instincts and humanity of a British 
 sailor no form of distress appeals more vehemently 
 than the open boat in which they see no breaker, 
 than the open boat in which men and women 
 may be dying of thirst. Swiftly, as though the crew 
 of the York were the disciplined and gallant hearts 
 of the battle-ship, a chair, well secured, sank from the 
 yard-arm and was seized by Hardy. He lifted the 
 girl on to it, took a turn round her with a piece of 
 line which had come down with it, and she soared 
 from his nimble, skilful hands, and vanished from 
 his sight behind the bulwarks. He gained the deck 
 in a few instants, and was at the girl's side before the 
 sailors could liberate her from the chair. 
 
 " She is a dear friend of mine," said he, loudly, 
 that the men might understand that more was in 
 this thrilling passage than humanity only. And 
 passing his arm round her waist to support her he 
 helped her to walk aft. 
 
 The captain's face looked dark with disappoint- 
 ment, and as Hardy drew close to him he heard him 
 mutter, " They have not brought him, they have not 
 brought him ! " 
 
 " I will take this lady below, sir," said Hardy, 
 speaking rapidly. " Her ship has been burnt. They 
 have been without food and water for two or three 
 days," and he passed on with the girl to the com- 
 panion-hatch, whilst the captain stood dumbly fol- 
 lowing them with his eyes, with the noble New- 
 foundland standing beside him.
 
 1 66 9 The Mate of the Good Ship York Q 
 
 In silence the two descended the cabin ladder, and 
 with the tenderness of a lover, which in such men as 
 Hardy has the sweetness of a woman's love, he 
 placed her upon a locker and poured out a little 
 water. She drank with the passion of thirst, and 
 asked for more with her eyes, but Hardy knew 
 better and gave her a biscuit, which would lightly 
 soothe the craving of the hunger that is often felt 
 after thirst is assuaged. She bit a little piece of 
 biscuit, and said : 
 
 " Won't you give me a little more water ? " 
 
 " Very soon. Eat that biscuit." 
 
 He stepped to the pantry where some brandy was 
 kept, and poured a tablespoonful in a wine-glass, 
 and this rilled up with water he gave her after she 
 had eaten the biscuit. The stimulant helped her, 
 and even as he stood watching her with his heart 
 beating fast with this wonder, this miracle, of almost 
 unparalleled meeting, he witnessed symptoms of a 
 reviving spirit, of a reanimated body in her face. 
 
 At this moment Captain Layard came down the 
 companion-steps and approached them with an eager, 
 strained expression. His eyes, alight with mania 
 for madness has its expectations and disappoint- 
 ments rested with a searching gaze upon the girl. 
 
 " Have you seen him ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, sir," answered Hardy, quickly trying to 
 catch Julia's eye, but she was staring with alarm at 
 the captain, as you would, or I, under such conditions 
 of inexplicable confrontment. " She is a dear friend 
 of mine and is ill with the sufferings of an open boat, 
 but her presence in this ship may mean more than 
 we can dream of now." 
 
 The captain's face changed, his eyes took a fresh 
 illumination with his smile.
 
 $ The Indiaman's Boat $ 167 
 
 " See to her, Mr. Hardy, see to her, and I'll start 
 the ship afresh." 
 
 He left the cabin. 
 
 " May I have another biscuit? " said Julia. 
 
 Hardy handed one and smiled, for he saw again 
 the sweet unconscious cock of her head, not the less 
 fascinating to him because her eyes were dim, her 
 cheeks a little hollow, her lips pale. 
 
 " Was that the captain? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes," he answered. 
 
 " What was he asking ? Is he right in his mind ? " 
 
 " His only son, a little boy, a beautiful bright- 
 haired little boy, fell overboard and was drowned, 
 and But we will talk about the captain and 
 your adventures when you are stronger." 
 
 He mused a moment or two, and then added, 
 " You will take the rest you need in my cabin, and 
 a berth shall be made ready for you. A good long 
 sleep will restore you. So come." 
 
 He put his arm through hers and caused her to 
 rise, and indeed she still needed the support he gave 
 her. He took her to his cabin, and as she walked 
 she looked about her with growing animation, which 
 is a cheering sign, and once she exclaimed, " Thank 
 God, I am safe ! Thank God, I have met you ! But 
 how wonderful oh, how wonderful ! " 
 
 She sat on his sea-chest whilst he smoothed and 
 prepared the bunk. It was a little cabin; the bunk 
 was under a port-hole, and plenty of light came 
 flashing in off the trembling, feathering sea. You 
 might hear the tramp of feet overhead, and the 
 thump of coils of rope flung off their pins. There 
 were none of the garnishings which often make 
 pathetic such interiors as this ; when a young officer 
 hangs up the picture of his wife with their first baby
 
 i68 -* The Mate of the Good Ship York +> 
 
 on her knee, neither of them to be kissed and clasped 
 for months and months, even if God be merciful to 
 the poor fellow and his ship ; no rack full of pipes, 
 no odds and ends of curios in short, nothing orna- 
 mented the wall of Hardy's sea-bedroom but a long 
 chart of the English Channel, which it was his cus- 
 tom to study when he lay in his bunk smoking, to 
 get absolutely by heart the lights which gem the 
 coast of our island, and the verdure-crowned terraces 
 over the way. 
 
 When the bunk was prepared he removed her hat 
 and gave her a hair-brush, and took down a little 
 square of mirror and held it up before her. He 
 greatly admired the beauty and the abundance of 
 her hair, which was parted on one side. 
 
 " Nothing so refreshes one as to brush one's hair," 
 said he. 
 
 " How ill I look," she exclaimed. " How could 
 you have recognised me so instantly ? " and she 
 lifted her eyes, full of caress, to his face. 
 
 " Will you be strong enough to get into that bunk 
 unhelped ? " he asked. 
 
 It was a low-seated bunk, and she looked at it and 
 answered, " Yes." 
 
 " Then I will leave you," said he, and he walked 
 out hurriedly, and shut the door behind him. 
 
 He went on deck to see how the captain was deal- 
 ing with his ship and found the vessel sailing along, 
 with her yards properly swung and everything right. 
 The boat from which the people had been received 
 was visible at the tail of the ship's wake. The captain 
 had sent her adrift, which was sane or not in him, 
 just as you think proper. The sailors were coiling 
 down and otherwise busy; the four men had been
 
 <+ The Indiaman's Boat <+ 169 
 
 taken into the forecastle, where they were eating and 
 drinking and yarning to a few of the watch below 
 about the burning of the Indiaman Glamis Castle. 
 The moment Captain Layard saw Hardy he called 
 him. 
 
 " Who is the lady? " he asked. 
 
 " Miss Julia Armstrong, the daughter of a retired 
 commander in the Royal Navy," was the reply. 
 
 " Where have you lodged her ? " 
 
 " In my cabin for the present, sir, till I receive 
 your orders to get another one ready for her." 
 
 " Oh, yes, have that done have that done," the 
 captain said in a smooth, perfectly sane voice. " Do 
 you know what she was aboard the ship ? " 
 
 Now Hardy was like the squire in Dickens's ex- 
 quisite sketch " he would not tell a lie for no 
 man ! " At the same time he did not wish Captain 
 Layard should know that Miss Armstrong had 
 shipped as a second stewardess, so he replied she was 
 going to Calcutta with a letter of introduction to the 
 bishop of that place. Her father was poor, and the 
 girl wanted to find something to do in India. 
 
 But the captain was dreaming. One with eyes 
 for such faces as his could easily see that he was 
 thinking of something else, or did not understand. 
 He continued to look in silence for a little while at 
 Hardy, and then the baleful sparkle suddenly bright- 
 ened his stare, he folded his arms and said, with an 
 expression of triumphant hope and convicition: 
 
 " She is fresh from the sea and knows where 
 Johnny is, and she shall help me to find him ! "
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN AND THE GIRL 
 
 IT was six o'clock on the same day in which Julia 
 Armstrong had been delivered from that horrible 
 sea tragedy, the open boat, by the miraculous appa- 
 rition of the York, of all the ships which the horizons 
 of the deep were then girdling! The chief mate 
 knocked upon the door of his cabin where the girl 
 lay, and believing he heard her say " Come in," 
 entered, and found her asleep. 
 
 The reddening sunshine was away to starboard, 
 but the heavens southeast were glowing, and the 
 girl slept, visible to the eye as the circle of blue port- 
 hole up which and down which you saw the clear-cut 
 line of the horizon sliding like a piece of clockwork. 
 He stood looking at her, for there was love for this 
 girl in the man's heart, and this encounter was so 
 wonderful that he witnessed the hand of God in it, 
 and a sentiment of religion sanctified his emotion; 
 otherwise, with the sailor's respect for the repose of 
 those who sleep for the seamen's best blessing 
 upon you is, Lord grant you a good night's rest, sir! 
 he would have softly stepped out and left her. 
 
 And this he would have soon done, but as he 
 looked she all at once opened her gray eyes full upon 
 him, stared a few moments till intelligence came to 
 her, then started, smiled, and sat up in the bunk. 
 
 170
 
 The Captain and the Girl $> 171 
 
 " I've awaked you, I'm afraid," said Hardy. 
 
 " I'm glad you have. I have slept sweetly and I 
 feel well," she answered. " Strange that I have not 
 dreamt at all, for I have passed through a nightmare 
 since the burning of the ship. How marvellous to 
 see you standing there ! " 
 
 " Could you eat a piece of cold fowl and drink 
 some wine? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You shall sup here, for I want to hear your 
 story. If you are in the cabin, and the captain 
 comes " 
 
 He put his head out of the door and hailed the 
 cabin servant, who was polishing glasses in the pan- 
 try. He told him what to get and bring, and he 
 then caused the girl to get out of her bunk, and 
 cushioned his sea-chest with his bunk pillow as a seat 
 for her. He smiled as he saw her fall into the in- 
 comparable posture (as he thought it) : the head a 
 little on one side, the hands on the hips, the feet 
 crossed, the whole figure beautiful now that her 
 jacket was removed, though her dark blue blouse 
 imperfectly suggested the faultless grace of her 
 breast. Sleep had faintly tinged her cheek whereon 
 the shadow of suffering had lain; her eyes had 
 brightened, her lips had reddened, and all the ro- 
 mance of her face, which was not beautiful nor even 
 pretty, but alluring, nevertheless, was expressed once 
 more in the flattering evening light, which suffused 
 with a liquid softness the atmosphere of that little 
 cabin. 
 
 Until the man knocked at the door with the tray 
 of food and wine, they talked chiefly of home, of 
 the dry ditch and Bax's farm, of the East India
 
 172 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York <*> 
 
 Dock road and of Captain Smedley, whose escape 
 and probable safety the girl had mentioned early 
 in this talk. And then whilst she supped an early 
 supper, but on the ocean it is the last meal she 
 told him the story of a memorable fire at sea. 
 
 There had been many such fires, and they nearly 
 all read like one. It begins by some rascally sailor 
 broaching a rum cask; or it is a naked candle in 
 the hand of a fool looking for a brand in the lazar- 
 ette; or it is a pipeful of glowing tobacco amongst 
 wool ; the capsizal of a lamp ; or it is caused by some- 
 thing which the ocean sucks down to her ooze and 
 buries there, one secret more. But however it be, 
 the end is nearly always the same. It was so in this 
 case ; the fire took such a hold there was no dealing 
 with it; a score may have perished. The girl saw 
 the bowsprit and jib-booms black with figures of 
 men who had been cut off by the amidship furnace. 
 Numbers for she was a full ship with many 
 children, and besides passengers she was carrying 
 hard upon a hundred soldiers in her 'tween-decks 
 numbers, I say, got away in the boats, and amongst 
 them, the last to leave, was the captain; she did 
 not doubt that. She fell overboard in her terror, 
 and in her recoil right aft from the smoke and its 
 burning stars, and afterwards found herself in a 
 boat in the company of five men, one of whom, 
 groaning heavily with internal injury, died in the 
 night and was dropped over the boat's side. 
 
 She had more to tell him about this shipwreck, 
 but that fire concerns my story only in so far as it 
 brings this girl again on to the stage by one of those 
 dramatic and startling methods adopted by the 
 ocean, whose moods are many.
 
 4* The Captain and the Girl * 173 
 
 " If your captain is a madman," she said, " what 
 is to happen to this ship? " 
 
 He put his finger to his lips in a gesture of caution 
 and reticence. 
 
 " We may whisper it to each other," said he, in a 
 low voice, " but the crew have no knowledge of it, 
 or they may attribute any strangeness in his manner 
 to the loss of his child, and think it passing. They 
 all loved the poor little fellow, and so did I." 
 
 And he told her how the boy used to beat his 
 drum in accompaniment to the sailor's whistle, and 
 related the story of his falling overboard and the 
 efforts to save him, and the captain's frantic dumb- 
 show and sudden exhibition of insanity, so that he 
 believed his child was merely missing, and that 
 something would happen to tell him where he might 
 be found. 
 
 " How sad ! " said the girl. " It would have bro- 
 ken my heart to see it. And does he still think that 
 he will find his little boy? " 
 
 " I'm afraid it's his conviction, the subtle delusion 
 of the diseased brain," Hardy answered ; " but in 
 other matters with him it's like writing on sand; 
 next tide all's gone. Do not tell him you were a 
 stewardess. Converse with him as though he were 
 perfectly sane. He is a gentleman and an educated 
 man. Humour his sorrowful fancy, for it can hurt 
 no one, and it keeps the poor fellow's heart up." 
 
 " I suppose you are really in charge of the ship ? " 
 she said. 
 
 " I am watching her navigation," he answered, 
 " but I tell you I am at a dead loss because he is 
 the supreme law-giver of the vessel, and what he 
 orders must be done or it is mutiny. His orders
 
 174 ** The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 may be dangerous to my judgment, but not to the 
 men's, who take the course as it's given ; and I dare 
 not go amongst them and speak the truth. He 
 might get better and hear of it, and it would be in 
 his power to ruin me." 
 
 She sank her head thoughtfully, understanding 
 him. The door was rapped. 
 
 " Hullo," cried Hardy. 
 
 It was the cabin servant who had come to tell 
 Hardy that the captain wished to see the lady. 
 
 " Where is he? " inquired the mate. 
 
 " On deck, sir. He'll come below when I report 
 her ready to receive him." 
 
 " Report her ready," said Hardy, and he and the 
 girl went into the cabin. 
 
 She seated herself on a cushioned locker, and he 
 stood beside her. 
 
 " That's your berth," said he, pointing to a door. 
 
 Gratitude and love were in the smile she gave him. 
 The red western blaze was on the skylight, and 
 reposed on her hair like gold-dust. It was Hardy's 
 watch below he was therefore at liberty to be in 
 the cabin. He caught sight of Candy staring through 
 the skylight, but the pale-eyed man walked off in a 
 minute, and then the captain came down. 
 
 He bowed with the courtesy of breeding to the 
 girl. Tradition has scored so heavily against the 
 merchant shipmaster by virtue of romantic inven- 
 tion, which largely consists of lies, that I dare say 
 it is impossible for a landsman to believe that the 
 commander of a merchant-ship could be anything 
 but a rough, grog-seamed, hoarse-voiced salt, with- 
 out grammar for his log-book. The lie stands as 
 everlasting as the pyramids, and for my part it may
 
 ^ The Captain and the Girl f 175 
 
 go on standing, but it is a lie all the same, and it is 
 my pleasure to paint the truth. 
 
 As the girl returned the bow she saw the great 
 Newfoundland in the captain's wake, and cried out 
 with a sudden passion of admiration, " Oh, what a 
 magnificent creature ! " The dog made friends with 
 her in an instant, and by twenty canine tokens ex- 
 pressed delight in the caress of her hand. No doubt 
 the beautiful and faithful creature appreciated the 
 sweetening and civilising influence of the lady in that 
 cabin. 
 
 The captain began by putting several sane ques- 
 tions, and she remembered that she was not to tell 
 him that she had shipped as an under-stewardess in 
 the Glamis Castle. He knew the vessel, and listened 
 with a degree of attention, that excited Hardy's 
 surprise, to her narrative of the fire. He seemed 
 to take a fancy to her, to be pleased by her presence, 
 and said he hoped she would be comfortable on 
 board his ship. In the midst of his rational talk 
 he slapped his forehead and kept his hand pressed 
 to it, and his face changed; a look of grief that 
 made him almost haggard was visible when he 
 dropped his hand and gazed at the girl. 
 
 " I miss my son my little son," he exclaimed, 
 " and I am waiting for something " he added, 
 in a broken voice " to tell me where I can find 
 him. His drum is by his bed come and look 
 at it." 
 
 Awed by the sudden confrontment of hopeless 
 human grief, the girl rose and followed him, with a 
 glance at Hardy as for courage. The heave of the 
 deck was gentle; she was stronger, and stepped 
 without difficulty. The captain entered his cabin
 
 176 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <* 
 
 and closed the door upon them both, which fright- 
 ened her, for she easily now saw how it was with his 
 poor brain, and no one in the company of a madman 
 can ever dare swear that in the next minute he will 
 continue harmless. 
 
 " That is his drum," said the captain. " That 
 is the little bed he slept in." 
 
 Hardy outside stood close at the door, listening 
 and prepared. 
 
 " He is my only child," continued the captain, 
 compelling by his own gaze the girl's attention to a 
 little coat and a little cap, and other garments of the 
 boy which were hanging upon the bulkhead. " His 
 mother is dead, and she was my first and my only 
 love. I miss him of a night, and want him. He 
 has been my constant companion in several voyages, 
 and the life of the captain of a ship at sea is lonely, 
 and I miss him. It was my delight to dress him and 
 to listen to his talk. Oh, he is a clever boy! He 
 can ask questions which the greatest mind could not 
 answer." 
 
 He sat down on a chair by the table on which were 
 instruments of navigation, a few books, pen and 
 ink, and the like, and folding his arms and bowing 
 his head he sobbed dryly without concealment of 
 features, and the piteous face, bearded, the half- 
 closed eyes, the long hair under the cap which he 
 had not removed, made the girl feel sick and faint, 
 as though to some oppressive stroke of personal 
 grief. 
 
 She rallied, for she was a young woman of great 
 spirit, as I have a right to hold, and remembering 
 what Hardy had said, she exclaimed, softly: 
 
 " You will find him, Captain Layard."
 
 $ The Captain and the Girl f 177 
 
 At this he looked up at her, started to his feet, 
 and his face was eager and impassioned with emo- 
 tion not communicable, for who can expound the 
 workings of the diseased mind? 
 
 " Tell me," he cried, and she saw what Hardy had 
 also seen the baleful sparkle of mania in his eyes, 
 " you're fresh from the sea, and God may have 
 sent you to me. Tell me ! " 
 
 She could not speak. \Her consolatory phrase had 
 exhausted imagination, and her heart refused its 
 sanction to the mate's humane idea, that it was 
 good to keep up the poor fellow's spirits. 
 
 " Tell me ! " he repeated, and he advanced a step 
 and his eyes devoured her face. 
 
 " God will comfort you and help you," she replied, 
 not knowing what to say. 
 
 He sighed, and turning his head fastened his eyes 
 upon the little bed, then looked at her again, this 
 time with his painful expression of superiority, the 
 air of a man whose soul is exalted by contemplation 
 of something of heavenly importance divulged to 
 him and to him only, and wearing this face, he 
 opened the door and she passed out, which was 
 lucky for Hardy, because had the captain gone first 
 he would have found the mate standing close and 
 listening. 
 
 The captain remained in his cabin. The others 
 stood by the table, and the western light, rich and 
 red as a deep-bosomed rose, flowed down upon them 
 through the open skylight. 
 
 " Poor man ! Poor man ! '* the girl exclaimed. 
 " I fear that what I've said will create a delusion ; 
 he will think I know where his child is." 
 
 " His moods are like the dog-vane," said Hardy. 
 " I could not hear what passed."
 
 178 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 She told him. He frowned with the puzzle of his 
 mind. 
 
 " You can judge now for yourself," said he. " Is 
 it right that a man like this should command a 
 ship whose safety became doubly precious to me 
 this morning? " 
 
 She smiled gently, but gravity quickly returned; 
 she could not but reflect his face of worry and 
 uncertainty. The great dog was lying at his master's 
 door, and all was silent in the captain's cabin. This, 
 in the pause, made her say: 
 
 " He may commit suicide." 
 
 " Not whilst he believes his son is alive and to be 
 found," answered Hardy. 
 
 He walked to the door of her berth, opened it, and 
 she saw that it was as comfortably equipped as the 
 ship would allow. 
 
 " You shall have a hair-brush and whatever else 
 I possess to give you," said he. " But how about 
 clothes ? I can't dress you." 
 
 " I am saved," she answered, " and that is enough 
 to think of at present." 
 
 This was a spirited answer for a girl who was 
 talking to the man she loved, for would not any girl, 
 addressing the man of her heart, grow pensive to the 
 thought that she had but one gown to wear in the 
 whole world? 
 
 He felt a certain sense of independency owing to 
 the captain's state, and considered that he was en- 
 titled to act beyond his rights as a mate. By which 
 I mean that it could not much concern him if the 
 captain came out and found him talking to the girl, 
 and generally acting as though he were a passenger 
 instead of an officer of the ship.
 
 $ The Captain and the Girl $ 179 
 
 " Come on deck," said he, " the air will refresh 
 you." 
 
 And they went up the companion-steps, whilst the 
 Newfoundland continued to sentinel the captain's 
 door. 
 
 A glorious evening sky, in the west like a city on 
 fire, clouds with brows glowing into scarlet as they 
 sailed into the splendour abeam, the ship leaning 
 with the breeze, and the white spume twinkling on 
 the eastern blue in a trembling heaven-full of the 
 lights of foam. Two sail were in sight, fairy gleams 
 upon the lens-like edge on the port bow. 
 
 " Oh," cried the girl, with a swift look along the 
 deck, " after an open boat ! and one man groaning 
 and then lying dead in her ! " 
 
 They walked slowly to and fro to leeward, leaving 
 Mr. Candy, who ogled them betwixt his white eye- 
 lashes; to pace the weather quarter-deck in the lone- 
 liness of command. The sailors had immediately 
 seen how things stood. Nothing that happens at 
 sea astonishes a sailor, unless it is the expected, 
 which is often a real surprise, so full of disappoint- 
 ments, of leeway, head winds, misreckoning is the 
 life. Here was the chief mate who had fallen in 
 with a girl whom he knew. 
 
 " They might have kept company ashore," says 
 Bill to Jim. " She was bound one way and he 
 another. Ain't that sailor fashion?" 
 
 "Ain't she got a figure?" says Jim to Bill. 
 " Wouldn't I like to put my arm round her waist 
 if Dick and the little 'un was playing. It's damned 
 hard on us sailor men that no female society's 
 allowed aboard a ship." 
 
 " There's the figurehead if it's female," says Bill.
 
 i8o <& The Mate of the Good Ship York $* 
 
 " I've known a man so 'ard up that of a dog-watch, 
 when there was plenty o' light, he'd slide down the 
 dolphin-striker just to talk to the woman on the 
 stem-head. He'd say it was the next best thing." 
 
 P^hnps it was, for some figureheads in those 
 days were a little gorgeous. I have seen ladies under 
 the bowsprit with long black hair and swelling 
 bosoms, bright with golden stars. Their blush was 
 deep, their lips scarlet, their smile alluring, they were 
 always curtseying, and the sea in its loving humours 
 flung snow-white nosegays at them. 
 
 But the shadow of the boy's death was still upon 
 the ship, and so far the captain had treated his men 
 as men, and they were sorry for him. You may take 
 it that a man is no sailor who ill-treats a sailor, and 
 despite tradition and the presence of the sea-lawyer, 
 your ship's company, if they are British, will serve 
 you honestly if their food is fit even for sailors, and 
 if they are numerous enough to do the work of one 
 man and half a man added per head, as against the 
 one-man work which the shore exacts without ex- 
 pecting more. 
 
 As Hardy and the girl walked the deck, whilst the 
 ship sailed along stately in the beautiful light of that 
 evening, they talked again of home and then of the 
 country to which they were voyaging. The sail upon 
 the port bow leaned like tiny jets of red flame, and 
 no star of heaven could have filled the liquid distance 
 with more grace. 
 
 " It was certainly your destiny to make for Aus- 
 tralia," said Hardy, " and I now say what I thought 
 from the beginning, that your chances lie there. But 
 we had to find you a berth." 
 
 " Captain Smedley was very kind to me," she
 
 f The Captain and the Girl 9 181 
 
 answered. " He would sometimes invite me into his 
 cabin and talk to me as pleasantly as though he had 
 known me all his life. He gave me an introduction 
 to the Bishop of Calcutta, and begged him to do 
 everything that could be done for a girl placed as 
 I am. I believe he talked to the passengers about 
 me, for some were extremely good-natured and sym- 
 pathetic, and would apologise for troubling me if 
 I waited upon them." 
 
 " Any griffs aboard ? " asked Hardy. 
 
 " Some young officers," she answered, with a half 
 smile upon her lips, and looking down upon the deck, 
 " but I kept as much to myself as I could." 
 
 " You'll find plenty of opportunities in Australia," 
 said Hardy. " There are rich squatters in that 
 country, and you can be driving about Melbourne 
 and entertaining and doing what you pleased whilst 
 he was a thousand miles off counting his sheep." 
 
 " Suppose all the rich squatters kept themselves a 
 thousand miles distant whilst I was in Melbourne, 
 could I return in this ship ? " 
 
 She asked this question placidly, but her expres- 
 sion showed that she did not appreciate this reference 
 to the squatters. 
 
 " You want position and you'll get it." 
 
 " Could I return in this ship? " 
 
 " We'll see," he answered, smiling at her. " A 
 dinner and champagne to the head of the firm of 
 agents might help us, and nature did not intend that 
 you should ever plead in vain." 
 
 As he said this the captain came on deck, followed 
 by Sailor. The Newfoundland, with the critical eye 
 of an old salt, took a view of the horizon, and in a 
 minute rushed forward on to the forecastle and re-
 
 1 82 <&> The Mate of the Good Ship York -^ 
 
 ported two ships in sight on the port bow by a 
 number of barks, which made the men, who were 
 lounging about the knight-heads, laugh heartily. On 
 seeing the captain, the mate touched his cap and 
 walked right aft on the lee-side, where with folded 
 arms he seemed to watch the sea, though he kept the 
 captain and Julia in the corner of his eye. 
 
 The poor man approached the girl, who received 
 him with a smile. 
 
 " Has Mr. Hardy looked after you ? " he said, 
 kindly and gently. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Captain Layard, I am very happy and 
 comfortable, and thank you over and over again for 
 your goodness. I believe I should have died by this 
 time in that open boat, and I owe my life to you 
 and this noble ship." 
 
 " I am very dull and lonely," he said in a musing 
 way, clearly inattentive to her words. " Those ships 
 yonder break the continuity of this everlasting circle, 
 but they'll vanish shortly, and the full desolation of 
 the night will encompass us. It is the night that 
 I fear it is the night that I fear! " he continued, 
 almost whispering, and gazing at her as a man looks 
 at another whose pity and help his heart is yearning 
 for. " I miss him ! If I dream of him I shall go 
 mad to find it a dream. But you know where 
 he is." 
 
 She hoped to divert his thoughts, and said : " I do 
 not find the sea desolate, Captain Layard. On fine 
 nights I could stand for hours looking at the stars; 
 and is desolation on the sea when the sun is shining ? 
 If I were a man I would be a sailor, for, although it 
 has nearly destroyed me, I have learnt to love the 
 ocean."
 
 ^ The Captain and the Girl 9 183 
 
 She looked toward Hardy. The dog, having 
 barked his report of two sail in sight, came trotting 
 aft, and stood beside his master. The captain looked 
 at him a little while in silence, his brow contracted 
 in meditation. 
 
 " Which is real ? " he asked, placing his foot upon 
 the dog's shadow, "this or this?" and he put his 
 hand upon the dog. 
 
 Julia, who found a necessity to humour him, 
 answered : 
 
 " Some great thinker has written, ' Shadows we 
 are, and shadows we pursue.' ' 
 
 " How long grows one's shadow in the dying 
 sun! " said Captain Layard, turning his face rilled 
 with the yearning of grief and charged with that 
 subtle expression of madness for which no words 
 are to be found toward the burning sky ; " and 
 soon we are nothing but shadows. Do you believe in 
 God ? " He looked at her suddenly with an ex- 
 traordinary gaze of passionate anxiety. 
 
 " Oh, yes, Captain Layard," replied the girl. " I 
 believe in him now if ever I did, and I have thanked 
 him." 
 
 His face put on its triumphant look, but he was 
 interrupted in the irrelevant sentiments he was about 
 to deliver by the approach of the boatswain. 
 
 Julia crossed the deck to Hardy, glad to escape 
 the pain of such talk. 
 
 " What is it ? " said the captain. 
 
 " The men we picked up," answered the boat- 
 swain, " have asked me to come aft to say they're 
 willing to serve as seamen aboard this ship." 
 
 " You are a full company," replied the captain, 
 quickly. " I can't afford to pay and keep more 
 sailors."
 
 1 84 * The Mate of the Good Ship York 49* 
 
 " They're likely men, sir," said the boatswain, 
 speaking in a softened note of respectful compas- 
 sion. 
 
 " They'll expect their wages." 
 
 The boatswain answered he thought that was 
 likely. 
 
 " No," said the captain, " we'll transship them, 
 and send them home." 
 
 He rounded on his heel, and sat upon the skylight, 
 and gazed at the dying lights in the west. What 
 could be more sane than this man's answers to the 
 boatswain? Hardy had overheard them, and per- 
 plexity was deepened in him. Who was going to 
 convince the sailors that their captain was mad 
 unless he talked to them as he did to him and Julia ? 
 And the captain sat looking at the dimming glory, 
 and did not seem to remember that he had been 
 conversing with the girl, or to know that she had 
 left him. 
 
 It was fine weather throughout that night, and the 
 moon shone, and the heaven of stars swarmed in 
 sparkling hosts toward the grave of the sun until 
 the pallor of the dawn, like the face of the risen 
 Christ, put out those fires of the dark; the ship, 
 bathed in the ice-white radiance, stole phantom-like 
 over the boundless cemetery of the drowned, the 
 perished sailors whose tombstones were in every 
 breaking surge. All had been quiet aboard that 
 stealing ship, clad to her trucks in the raiment of 
 her day. The captain would pass a long time in his 
 cabin, then appear on deck, and walk it for a little 
 space self-engrossed ; and it seemed to Hardy when 
 his watch came round, and when the captain showed 
 himself, that the man's isolation and silence ex-
 
 f The Captain and the Girl $ 185 
 
 pressed, perhaps, a still dim but growing perception 
 of the fate of his little boy, in which case the delu- 
 sion would leave him, and his mind recover at least 
 the strength it possessed when they made sail in the 
 English Channel. 
 
 When the sun rose the ocean rolled in mackerel- 
 tinted mounds, and the ship swayed as she floated 
 onwards at about five knots. Stu'nsails had been 
 set by order of the captain when he came on deck at 
 dawn, and, whitening the air on high, the swelling 
 cloths carried the sight to the heavens, which arched 
 in a miracle of motionless feathers of cloud, a glori- 
 ous canopy of delicate plumes, in sweet keeping 
 with the airy graces of the queenly fabric which 
 proudly bowed upon its mighty throne. 
 
 A sail was in sight on the starboard bow, and in 
 two hours she would be abreast. The Newfound- 
 land, coming on deck with the captain when the 
 light broke, instantly barked its report of her, and 
 now, a little after eight, Hardy was viewing her 
 through the ship's telescope; for the sane instruc- 
 tions which had reached him were, that the four 
 men were to be transferred to the first ship which 
 would receive them. 
 
 The four men were on the forecastle watching the 
 coming vessel; they were good specimens of the 
 English seaman of those days, sturdy and whis- 
 kered, bronzed in face and bowed in back, with that 
 steady air which made you know that, like most 
 British sailors, they were to be trusted beyond all 
 breeds of foreign mariners in the hour of sea peril, 
 when the ship was grinding out her heart upon the 
 rocks, when the belching hatches were blackening 
 the air into a storm cloud, when the blow of the
 
 1 86 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York -^ 
 
 stranger's bows had riven the side into a gulf, when 
 the yawn of the started butt was burdening the hold 
 with tons of ship-drowning brine. 
 
 When the ships were abreast, the stranger proved 
 American, bound for the River Thames. The beau- 
 tiful flag of her great country shook its barred folds 
 at the peak, and you thought of Bishop's Berkeley's 
 prophetic line, " Westward the course of empire 
 takes its way." Her yellow sheathing flashed in 
 artillery spoutings as she rolled from the sun, her 
 canvas with cotton was as white as milk, she was a 
 wonder of sea architecture, the creation of a people 
 whose sires had launched that exquisite structure, 
 the Baltimore clipper. 
 
 Captain Layard was now on deck, and Hardy 
 must discover that in matters of routine he was not 
 going to work with the diseased half of his head. 
 He hailed the American captain, and they exchanged 
 the information they asked. 
 
 " What ship is that ? Where are you from, and 
 where are you bound to? " 
 
 And the American wanted to know the Greenwich 
 time by the chronometers in Captain Layard's cabin. 
 
 Then was shouted across in words as sane as ever 
 sounded from a quarter-deck the news of the re- 
 covery of four men from an open boat, and would 
 the American captain carry them home ? Of course 
 he would, and within half an hour from the begin- 
 ning of this rencounter the two ships had started on 
 their separate courses with colours dipping in cordial 
 good-byes the seaman's hand-shake. And these 
 were cousins.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE CAPTAIN'S BIRTHDAY 
 
 Now in this business of transferring the four 
 men Hardy noticed that the captain made no 
 reference to Miss Armstrong. Another captain 
 would have asked her if she wished to go home : 
 perhaps, indeed, would have sent her home without 
 asking her. Was it because Captain Layard knew 
 she had no home? Hardy hoped it might be that, 
 but suspected it was not so. This ship wanted no 
 stewardess; the girl was one more to feed, and 
 owners do not love liberality in their captains. In 
 short, the mate came to the conclusion that the 
 captain's benevolence in keeping the girl and giving 
 her a passage to Australia for nothing was due to 
 hallucination, and the thought was uneasiness itself 
 both for Julia's sake and the ship's. 
 
 It was the day following the transshipment of the 
 men that he found an opportunity during the cap- 
 tain's absence to take a turn with the girl and talk to 
 her. The sun was shining a little hotly, and the 
 clouds were sailing fast. Each round of swell, as it 
 came under-running the ship out of the northeast, 
 was ridged and wrinkled with arches of foam, and 
 the day was alive with the music in the rigging, with 
 
 187
 
 1 88 9 The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 the speckled wings of sea-birds in the wake, and the 
 smoke-like shadow of vapour floating through the 
 sunshine on the water. 
 
 After the couple had talked a little, Hardy said : 
 
 " How does the captain treat you ? " 
 
 " Very kindly," she answered. 
 
 " I keep an eye upon him," he said, " but it will 
 not do to seem to hang near when he is talking to 
 you. He might round and become fierce, for from 
 madness you may expect anything. What is his 
 talk about?" 
 
 " Chiefly his lost child." 
 
 A seaman who was in the main-rigging putting a 
 fresh seizing to a ratline looked at the girl, and 
 thought deep in himself, Oh, lovey, what a figure! 
 But what that whiskered heart admired most was 
 the coquettish cock of her head, the grace of one 
 hand upon her hip, the charm of her motions as she 
 walked, her posture when she turned aft or forward 
 on the return that was like a pause in some sweet 
 dancer's movements. Yes, Jack can keep a bright 
 lookout when a girl heaves in sight, but the mighty 
 Charles Dickens is right in holding that Jack's Nan 
 is often the unloveliest of the fair. 
 
 " Does he go on thinking that you. know where his 
 child is ? " said Hardy. 
 
 " Yes. It is a fixed delusion, though I cannot 
 humour it it is too sad in spite of your wish." 
 
 " The oddest part to me," said Hardy, " is the 
 reason he shows in his professional work. He 
 doesn't confound things; the sail he talks of is the 
 sail it is; he still knows the ropes. The flicker of 
 the leach of a topgallantsail will set him wanting a 
 small pull on the leebrace."
 
 The Captain's Birthday 
 
 "How does he manage with the navigation?" 
 asked the girl. 
 
 " He works it out as I do. He finds the ship's 
 position to a second. This may be the effect of 
 habit, but is not custom beaten into rags by insanity, 
 like the head of an old drum? It's not so in this 
 case, and the crew mayn't find him out till the pilot 
 boards us, and guess nothing until they hear that the 
 doctors have locked him up." 
 
 " Then what does his madness signify? " said the 
 girl. " He'll be as good as the sanest if we arrive 
 safely." 
 
 "Ah, but it's the getting there! It's the what 
 may happen to-morrow, or to-morrow, or to-mor- 
 row, and that is going to make my hair gray, Miss 
 Armstrong." 
 
 " Call me Julia," she said, looking at him with a 
 sudden light in her eyes. 
 
 "Why should I take that liberty?" he replied, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Because I should love it," she answered. 
 
 " I'll not call you Julia before him," he exclaimed, 
 with a note of fondness which brought a charming 
 expression into her face, as the kisses of a shower 
 freshen the perfume of the rose. " It must be a stiff 
 Miss Armstrong or I am no mate," and then they 
 fell to talking a little nonsense. 
 
 A day came, and it was the fifth day dating from 
 the drowning of the little drummer, and it was a 
 Friday, in all tradition a black day for the sailor; 
 and nobody, I think, has taken notice that it was 
 Friday when Nelson, full of instinctive assurance 
 that he would never return alive, kissed his sleeping 
 child and started to join his ship for Trafalgar.
 
 190 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $> 
 
 The captain, Miss Armstrong, and Mr. Hardy sat 
 at breakfast. The ship had made good way; not 
 many parallels lay between her and the northern 
 verge of the tropics. The sun poured his light in 
 fire, and the flying-fish sparkled under the bows. 
 
 The sailors had noticed nothing in the captain to 
 set them growling suspicion into one another's ears 
 with askant looks aft. If Mr. Candy, who lived 
 close to the skipper, had taken any sort of altitude of 
 the poor man's mind, he kept his observation secret ; 
 or it might be that he believed the captain was a 
 little upset by the loss of his child, and he had not 
 the penetrating sagacity of Hardy. 
 
 The wind had fallen light, and the motions of the 
 ship were as easy as a swimmer's. Hardy had 
 noticed in the captain's face when they met that 
 morning an expression of lofty triumph, of subli- 
 mated self-complacency such as a man deranged by 
 conquest and acclamation might wear as he passes 
 slowly through the huzzaing crowds. He seemed 
 self-crowned, and might have reminded a better 
 student than Hardy of one of Nat Lee's heaven- 
 defying stage-kings. 
 
 " To-day is Friday," said the captain, addressing 
 Miss Armstrong, " and what day do you think it 
 is?" 
 
 Julia thought awhile, for she fancied he meant 
 something in the almanac. 
 
 " I don't know, captain," she answered. 
 
 "It is my birthday," said the captain, "and Johnny 
 is waiting somewhere to kiss me." 
 
 Hardy was about to deliver with all the respect 
 of a mate a sentence of congratulation, but the 
 closing words of the captain silenced him.
 
 + The Captain's Birthday *+ 191 
 
 " I wish you many happy returns of the day," said 
 Julia. 
 
 "You might like to know how old I am," said 
 the captain, with an indescribable look at the girl, 
 " but every man should respect the secret of his 
 birth. Until we come to sixty we like to be thought 
 much younger, and when we come to eighty we tell 
 lies that our friends may think us ninety. I have 
 good reason to congratulate myself upon my birth- 
 day. I cannot believe that the Red Ensign ever 
 floated over a better seaman than I, a man who is 
 both a gentleman and a sailor, and it has been my 
 privilege," he continued, talking as though he was 
 making an after-dinner speech, " to have dignified 
 by my behaviour and breeding a service that in 
 public opinion is in want of dignity." 
 
 Hardy burst into a laugh; he could not help it, 
 but he instantly apologised by saying that the cap- 
 tain's words made him think of the first skipper he 
 sailed with, betwixt whose legs, as he stood, you 
 could have fitted an oval picture, and whose face for 
 beauty might have been picked out of the harness 
 cask. 
 
 The captain with a slight frown cast his eyes upon 
 the mate, and said, " Johnny shall be a sailor. His 
 mother would have desired him to serve the queen 
 at sea, but he shall perpetuate me under the flag I 
 serve." 
 
 This was followed by a short silence; the others 
 found nothing to say. It was perhaps one of the 
 saddest illustrations of madness on record, and it 
 set the listeners' hearts pining to do something that 
 was denied to their sympathy and distress. 
 
 " The men shall have a holiday," said the captain,
 
 192 f The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 who was scarcely eating. "It is my birthday, and 
 they shall drink my health at eight bells. You 
 will drink my health, Mr. Hardy, and you, Miss 
 Armstrong ? " 
 
 They answered that they would drink his health 
 with the greatest pleasure. 
 
 " You and Mr. Candy in rum, Mr. Hardy ; you'll 
 drink with the men, for I like the officers of my ship 
 to be associated with the crew on festive occasions." 
 
 " I will gladly drink with the men, sir," responded 
 Hardy. 
 
 " Rum is not a fit drink for young ladies," con- 
 tinued the captain, with a faint smile, "and you, Miss 
 Armstrong, will drink my health in claret a wine 
 which shall not hurt you, because 'tis light and old 
 and nourishing." 
 
 Julia bowed. Hardy was wondering what the 
 men would think, but if they thought this unusual 
 deviation from sea routine odd, they would certainly 
 like it and hope for more. It was an exhibition of 
 insane generosity, of lunatic kindness, and the mate 
 could see nothing else in it. 
 
 In obedience to the captain's instructions he went 
 on deck, sending Candy below to his breakfast, and 
 called the boatswain aft. 
 
 " It's the captain's orders," said he, " that the men 
 shall knock off work all day." 
 
 The boatswain stared. " All day, sir ? " he said. 
 
 " It's his birthday," answered Hardy. " And all 
 hands will drink his health in good Jamaica rum 
 at eight bells, served out on the capstan head." 
 
 Innumerable wrinkles overran the boatswain's face 
 as grin after grin rippled about his gale-hardened 
 skin. He looked as if he would like to say that
 
 *f The Captain's Birthday f 193 
 
 here was a traverse that beat all his going a-fishing. 
 But the immense pleasure that beamed in his ex- 
 pression was full assurance of the reception the crew 
 would give the news. 
 
 He walked slowly forward, and the men wondered 
 at his deep and constant grin. " One of the mate's 
 stories, I reckon," thought Bill, and Jim also thought 
 that some joke of the mate had started the boatswain 
 on that smile. When he reached the forecastle the 
 boatswain put his silver whistle to his lips and blew 
 the shrill music of " All hands ! " and a hundred 
 little birds of the groves and woods seemed to be 
 perched in song upon the yards and rigging. 
 
 The fellows who were below came tumbling up, 
 startled by that call in fine weather. In a very little 
 time the whole of the crew had gathered round their 
 forecastle leader, who, after clearing his throat and 
 gazing about him with his profound smile, said : 
 
 " Lads, it's the capt'n's birthday, and it's to be a 
 holiday for you all right away through, with liquor 
 at noon to drink his health in." 
 
 Sailors are usually so badly treated by all variety 
 of shipowners' sullen deafness to their grievances, 
 that when on rare occasions, sometimes originating 
 in madness, they are well treated, their astonishment 
 is a phenomenon of emotion. It seems unnatural, 
 they think. A beautiful mermaid with a gilded tail 
 and flowing hair of bronze, with her white revealed 
 charms made entrancing by the soft blue of the 
 water, could not amaze them more than a skipper's 
 kindness taking the form of Layard's. 
 
 A brief spell of silence fell upon them as they 
 looked at one another and at the boatswain. 
 
 " Ain't yer coddin' us ? " said a man.
 
 194 *$* The Mate of the Good Ship York <Q> 
 
 " Fill your pipes, and go a-courting," answered 
 the boatswain. " I'm for taking advantage of it 
 when it comes, which ain't ever too soon or often." 
 
 This convinced the crew, who delivered a loud 
 cheer, and then began to talk and scatter, all of 
 them feeling a bit aimless, for it wasn't like going 
 ashore. 
 
 Hardy, who was keeping the deck whilst Candy 
 breakfasted, watched the proceedings on the fore- 
 castle, and wondered if this stroke of the captain 
 was going to give them any idea of the truth. But 
 why should it? If they suspected, through this act 
 of kindness, that the boy's loss had shifted the " old 
 man's " ballast, they would only hope that a long 
 time would pass before his mental cargo was 
 trimmed afresh. But in truth they did not know 
 that their captain was insane, and even Candy, who 
 was below sitting at the table and listening to the 
 skipper conversing with Miss Armstrong, would not 
 have kissed the Book upon it. 
 
 Presently Mr. Candy came on deck, but Hardy, 
 whose watch below it was, thought he would stay 
 a little and talk to Miss Armstrong, and observe the 
 captain if he should appear. Very soon after Mr. 
 Candy arrived Julia rose lightly through the com- 
 panion-hatch. She was now looking quite well, 
 better indeed than she looked when Hardy first met 
 her. Again he found himself admiring her faultless 
 figure and the pose of her head, enchanting through 
 its unconsciousness. 
 
 " Where is the captain ? " he asked her. 
 
 " I left him at the table," she replied. " He was 
 not in the cabin when I came out of my berth." 
 
 " I hope it won't end in his destroying himself,"
 
 *f The Captain's Birthday $ 195 
 
 exclaimed Hardy. " There is a great deal of good- 
 ness and humanity in the poor fellow's heart, and 
 it's dreadful to see a man struggling to conquer his 
 brain's disease. Who can tell what passes in the 
 minds of such people? But what am I to do? He 
 is Prime Minister aboard this ship, and those are the 
 people," said he, nodding toward the crew, " who 
 must turn him out." 
 
 "Have you told them they are to have a holiday?" 
 she asked. 
 
 " Don't they look like it? " he replied. 
 
 " How'll they spend it?" she inquired. 
 
 " In loafing and smoking and sleeping. If the 
 captain's liberal with his grog Well, the drum- 
 mer's gone out of their heads 'tis the way of the 
 sea : a bubble over the side, a broken pipe in a vacant 
 bunk, and the ship sails on. They may dance and 
 sing songs; and I hope they will, for God knows 
 the captain is depressing enough, and I like to see 
 the hornpipe danced." 
 
 Meanwhile where was Captain Layard? He was 
 in his cabin seated close to the medicine-chest, which 
 stood open, and reading a thin volume all about 
 poisons, and the quantities to be administered when 
 given for sickness. His great dog lay beside him. 
 He read with a knitted brow, and sometimes sank 
 the volume to lift with his right hand some bottle 
 of poison out of its little square place. He would 
 look at it and then refer -to the book. 
 
 In this singular study, fearful. with the menace of 
 the light in his eyes, tragically portentous with the 
 lifting look of triumph and the insane smile, he spent 
 about half an hour, and then closing the lid of the 
 medicine-chest, he stood up and looked at the drum,
 
 196 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York g 
 
 and softly wrung his hands with a heart-moving 
 expression, whose appeal lay in the soul's perception 
 seeking to pierce in vain the torturing and bewilder- 
 ing veil of disease; for it is not the immortal soul 
 of man which is mad in madness, and this belief 
 is God-sent; the soil buries and resolves to ashes 
 the mania that destroys, and the purified soul is 
 liberated to await the judgment of God its Home. 
 
 After a few minutes he stepped into the cabin 
 and called the attendant, who was handling crockery 
 and glasses in the pantry. The fellow stepped out. 
 
 " Jump below into the lazarette," said the captain, 
 " and draw a bucket of rum. I want plenty. This 
 is my birthday, and all hands will drink my health." 
 
 The man was not at all astonished; he had got 
 the news from the forecastle. He was a sort of 
 steward, and knew the ropes in the lazarette. The 
 little hatch was just abaft the captain's chair, and 
 was opened by an iron ring. The man accepted the 
 captain's orders literally, disappeared, and returned 
 with a clean, big bucket. 
 
 The lazarette is an after-hold, a compartment of 
 a ship in which in those times all sorts of commodi- 
 ties used to be stowed, chiefly edible, and for cabin 
 use. The man lifted the hatch-cover the hatch 1 
 was no more than a man-hole and by help of 
 the light, which shone down upon a cask that was 
 almost immediately under, pumped the bucket nearly 
 full. 
 
 The captain went to the hatch and looked down, 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 "Hand it up; I'll help you." He received the 
 bucket and placed it on the deck, and the man 
 sprang through the hatch and replaced the cover. 
 
 *
 
 $ The Captain's Birthday $ 197 
 
 " Take it into my cabin," said the captain, " and 
 bring it on deck when I send you for it." 
 
 And this was done, and the man went on deck 
 whilst the captain entered his berth and closed the 
 door. 
 
 " I have drawed enough to swim ye," said the 
 cabin-attendant to Bill. 
 
 " 'Tain't like being in port, though," answered 
 Bill, whilst Jim and several others like him grinned 
 at the news of the grog. " When I takes a drop, 
 I'm for dancin', and where are the gurls?" 
 
 " Ah ! " echoed Jim in a sigh born of lobscouse 
 and the livid fat of diseased pork. 
 
 Finding that the captain did not make his ap- 
 pearance, Hardy kept the deck with Julia. Again 
 they talked of the old home, the drunken stepmother, 
 the withering indifference of the retired Commander 
 R. N. to the loneliness and helplessness of his child, 
 and to her prospects in life. 
 
 Hardy spoke of it with heat, and the girl's face 
 was often hot with the passion of memory. 
 
 " What should I have done without you ? " she 
 said once and again, and still again. " But if I 
 cannot find employment in Australia, I must return 
 in this ship," and she looked at him with the eyes 
 of a sweetheart. 
 
 " If anything happens to Captain Layard," said 
 he, " no doubt I shall get command." 
 
 Now, " If anything should happen " is the round- 
 about of " If he should die/' and people modestly 
 thus speak of death as though it was anything, as 
 though it was not the only thing that is real, to be 
 expected without fear of disappointment. 
 
 " I believe he will grow quite mad long before we
 
 198 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 arrive at Melbourne," said Julia; "but even taking 
 him as he is, would the agents trust him ? " 
 
 " You want to come home in this ship, Julia? " 
 said Hardy. 
 
 " You are the only friend I have in the world," 
 she answered ; and thus they cooed without billing, 
 for Jack was in strength forward, and the second 
 mate walked the deck to windward, and a sailor 
 stood at the wheel. 
 
 About a quarter before noon, but not till then, the 
 captain emerged with his sextant. If he had come 
 up with a face of madness, the sextant he held would 
 have clothed him with all the sanity he needed in 
 the sailors' opinion. But his face showed no dis- 
 tinctive marks of the condition of his mind, the 
 expression was even calm; he seemed as one who 
 was about to realise the consuming hope of his life; 
 the shadow of the coming event subdued him. The 
 crew were on deck gathered forward in all variety of 
 sprawling posture, smoking and talking, with teeth 
 sharpened by the hard and bitter fare of the sea. 
 Also seven bells having been struck some time since, 
 they knew that noon and a bumper of old Jamaica 
 were at hand, and every eye was directed aft. 
 
 Hardy disappeared and returned with his sextant, 
 and Candy fetched his, and the three men fell to 
 screwing down the sun till its lower limb was like 
 a wheel upon the ocean line. The captain never 
 spoke, and Julia studying his face noticed the sub- 
 dued look and the calmness, and felt a little despair- 
 ful, for, poor heart, she was in love, and wanted the 
 captain to go raving mad that Hardy might get 
 command and marry her at Melbourne, and bring 
 her home. O God, what joy for a heart so long
 
 $ The Captain's Birthday $* 199 
 
 joyless ! A home, a protector, a, husband, on whose 
 breast she could lean with her lips at his ear in 
 softest murmurings of wifely confidence. 
 
 " Eight bells ! Make it the bell eight ! " and the 
 four double chimes rang gladly along the decks and 
 up aloft. 
 
 " Pass the word for the cabin servant," said the 
 captain, speaking and looking as collectedly as the 
 sanest of skippers might show in that first command 
 of tacking, " Ready about ! " 
 
 The man came aft in a hurry, impelled by the 
 thirsty yearning of the forecastle mob, and in a 
 couple or three minutes he was standing at the cap- 
 stan just abaft the mast with a bucket on the " head," 
 and a tot measure in his hand. The captain stood 
 close to the man, and the crew gathered around. 
 The Newfoundland stood at his master's side. Now 
 was to be seen the most glowing canvas in the pano- 
 rama which unfolds this ship's adventure. The 
 picture was alive with its crowd of faces of seamen 
 watching the lips of their commander, alive with the 
 colour and diversity of their apparel, with the silent 
 breathing of the white breast soaring to the height 
 of the fiery streak of bunting, which trembled in a 
 dog-vane from the main-royal truck. The sea was 
 soft in caress and note, and Julia thought of the 
 wayside fountain to which she as well as Hardy had 
 listened in the night, when, in the pause, she heard 
 the fall of the shower under the bow. 
 
 "My lads," began the captain, and Hardy watched 
 him with strained attention, believing that the crew 
 would see it, " this is my birthday, and I am depart- 
 ing from the custom of the sea in making a general 
 holiday of it."
 
 2oo <4* The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 He grew pale and paler as he spoke, but his voice 
 did not falter, and no change was visible in his 
 expression save that a light as of secret exultation 
 brightened his eye and accentuated his pallor. 
 
 " I have always tried to make a good master to 
 my men, and to treat them like men and sailors, and 
 not as dogs which other captains seem to find them." 
 
 This was attended by a growl of appreciation. 
 
 " So, my lads," continued the captain, " as this is 
 my birthday, one and all of you, the mates, and the 
 lady last, but not least, shall drink my health, and 
 the health of the little boy who has left his drum 
 behind him." 
 
 " May God bless you and him ! " said one of the 
 men, for this proved to be one of those touches of 
 nature which made all those rough hearts akin. 
 
 " Now serve out serve out, and handsomely ! " 
 
 The boatswain drank first. And again and again 
 and again the measure was filled until all hands of 
 the sailors, saving the man at the wheel, had swal- 
 lowed the fiery draught, many with a smack and a 
 smile of relish. Then the wheel was relieved, and 
 another bumper was swallowed with a " Many 'appy 
 returns of the day, sir." 
 
 " Drink," said the captain to the attendant, and 
 the man drained a full dose. 
 
 " Sweeten the measure for the two mates," said 
 the captain. 
 
 This was quickly done. And then Hardy drank 
 and then Candy, for both had the throats of the sea, 
 which seem lined with brass when 'tis ten per cent, 
 above proof. " Your health, sir " and " your 
 health, sir," and the mates took it down. 
 
 " Now, Miss Armstrong, you will drink my
 
 <& The Captain's Birthday *> 2O1 
 
 health," said the captain, and with the gallantry of 
 an old beau he took her by the hand and led her into 
 the cabin. She glanced at Hardy with a smile before 
 she vanished. 
 
 The men scattered as they went forward to get 
 their dinner. The captain took a wine-glass from 
 a rack, and a bottle from a locker, and filled the 
 glass with red wine. 
 
 " Drink to me and to the boy I am seeking, and 
 then tell me where he is," he exclaimed as he ex- 
 tended the glass. She took it, and said with forced 
 cheerfulness to humour him : 
 
 " Your health, Captain Layard, and many happy 
 returns of this day, and my heart's gratitude to you 
 for your kindness to me. And God will some day 
 show you where your child is." 
 
 She drank half the contents of the glass. His 
 eyes sparkled, and his face was grotesque with the 
 workings of his dreadful exultation. 
 
 " Oh, you must drain it you must drain it, Miss 
 Armstrong, or it'll be bad luck and no pledge." 
 
 She drank the glass empty, and put it down upon 
 the table. He gazed at her with extraordinary in- 
 tentness as though he listened to hear her words, 
 then swiftly entered his cabin, closed and bolted the 
 door, and pulling out a loaded revolver from under 
 the pillow in his bunk, seated himself, and with the 
 weapon upon his knee in his grasp sat hearkening, 
 with his eyes fastened upon the door. 
 
 The time slowly passed and still he continued to 
 sit, grasping the pistol upon his knee, with his eyes 
 of madness fixed upon the door. His face was now 
 revolting with its look of burning expectation and 
 triumph. Suddenly a stream of sunshine moved
 
 202 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 slowly, like a spoke of a softly revolving wheel, over 
 the carpeted deck of the captain's cabin, and any 
 one might have known by the motions of the ship 
 that she was not under command. You heard faint, 
 vague sounds of trampling above, a dim noise as of 
 a sick crowd poisoned by vapour and feebly strug- 
 gling to escape, and in the midst of it the captain's 
 door was struck : the blow was languid and repeated 
 three or four times only, and no noise attended it. 
 
 The madman sprang from his chair and stood 
 erect with the revolver half raised from his side, 
 and his eyes sparkled in his face that was dark with 
 murderous intent. Thus he stood whilst the spoke 
 of light through the port-hole moved gradually 
 round the cabin until it vanished, by which time all 
 was silent without. The unhappy man resumed his 
 seat and former posture, and thus it went for half an 
 hour at least; then, always grasping his murderous 
 weapon, he walked like one in the chamber of death, 
 carefully opened the door, and peered out. 
 
 The first sight he witnessed was the figure of the 
 chief mate, Hardy, stretched at its length and on its 
 side within a pace or two of the threshold, and upon 
 the locker on the port side of the table, a cushioned 
 locker as comfortable as a couch, lay the form of 
 Julia Armstrong; her right arm hung down, and 
 she lay as apparently dead as Hardy. The captain 
 stepped across the body of the mate and looked with 
 devouring, sparkling eyes at the girl, while he seemed 
 to listen for sounds above. Nothing was to be heard 
 save the inner grumbling of the ship as she swayed 
 helpless in arrest. Now and again the wheel chains 
 clanked to the blow of the sea upon the rudder. 
 
 The captain went to the girl's side and looked at
 
 f The Captain's Birthday i 203 
 
 her : her face was placid, pale, ghastly, and her lips 
 a bright red. Thus exactly did Hardy's face show, 
 and any one experienced in the symptoms of poison- 
 ing by laudanum or morphia would have known that 
 these two people had been heavily drugged, even 
 perhaps unto death. 
 
 It was the birthday of a madman in search of his 
 drowned child, and they had drunk his health and 
 the little drummer's. His face took on an air of 
 hurry and bustle, and, always gripping his revolver, 
 he stepped nimbly to the companion-steps and 
 mounted them. He raised his head just above the 
 companion-hood and looked; he saw that the man 
 who had stood at the wheel was lying motionless 
 beside it. Almost abreast of the companion was the 
 curved form of Candy, who seemed to have been 
 doubled up and then reeled into lifelessness. A few 
 prostrate forms were to be seen forward, in the waist 
 and about the forescuttle. They lay lifeless in the 
 sleep or death of the drugged draught in which they 
 had pledged their captain. In the forecastle lay the 
 rest, some on the deck, some in their bunks, and 
 every face showed as Hardy's and the girl's, placid, 
 pale, and ghastly, and the lips a bright red. All the 
 symptoms had been expended, the first pleasurable 
 mental excitement, then the weariness, the headache, 
 the intolerable weight of limb, the spinning and 
 sickening giddiness, the drowsiness, the stupor, and 
 now insensibility or death. 
 
 The captain rose in the hatch to his full height 
 and stepped on to the deck, followed by the dog, 
 which went to Candy and smelt him, and then with 
 a low, uneasy growl went to the figure beside the 
 wheel and sniffed at it. With a dreadful smile of
 
 204 *$ The Mate of the Good Ship York ^ 
 
 hope and rejoicing the captain thrust the pistol into 
 a side pocket and, going to the wheel, put the helm 
 hard a-starboard, and secured it by several turns of 
 the end of the mainbrace. 
 
 This done, always preserving his horrible ex- 
 pression of lofty exaltation, he took the breaker out 
 of the bow of the port quarter-boat, filled it from the 
 scuttle-butt, and replaced it. God knows how he 
 was directed in what he did; the instincts of habit 
 and knowledge must have governed him. It is 
 certain that he made his preparations for departure 
 with the sanity of a healthy brain. His dog closely 
 followed him, and seemed afraid. He then went 
 below into the pantry and returned with his arms 
 full of food, which he placed in the stern-sheets 
 along with a tumbler which he pulled out of his 
 pocket. He moved rapidly and his lips often 
 worked, and he'd flash his gaze along the decks at 
 that memorable, tragical picture of ship with life- 
 less figures upon the planks, with all her white can- 
 vas curving inwards, stirless in the stream of the 
 breeze. She seemed to have been drugged too, and 
 rolled with a kind of stagger upon the soft folds of 
 the swell. 
 
 He went below again, the dog at his heels, and, 
 entering his cabin, took a dog-collar and chain out 
 of a locker and secured the noble animal to a leg 
 of the table, which was cleated and immovable. 
 When he had done this he pressed his lips to the 
 dog's head and sobbed dryly and sighed, for the 
 light in his eyes was too hot a fire for tears. The 
 dog whined and wagged its tail, and looked a 
 hundred questions with its gentle eyes. 
 
 " I shall bring him back, I shall bring him back, 
 Sailor! " the captain muttered to the Newfoundland.
 
 ^ The Captain's Birthday ^ 205 
 
 And all this time Hardy lay close beside the dog 
 as dead to the eye as any corpse under the ground. 
 
 The captain went to the side of the girl and picked 
 her up off the cushioned locker with the ease of a 
 man lifting a child. With her motionless form in 
 his arms he gained the deck and laid her in the 
 boat, passing her under the after-thwart, so that 
 her head lay low in the stern-sheets. He sprang 
 for a colour in the flag-locker and placed the bunting 
 that was ready rolled under her head. She never 
 sighed, she never stirred. Not paler nor calmer 
 could her face have shown on the pillow of death. 
 
 Now the boat was to be lowered, and he went to 
 work thus : he cast adrift the gripes which had held 
 the boat steady betwixt the davits, and then he 
 slackened the falls at the bow, belaying the tackle, 
 and then he slackened the falls at the stern, belaying 
 the tackle; and so by degrees the boat sank in 
 irregular jerks to the surface of the water. He 
 sprang on to the bow tackle and descended with 
 the nimbleness of a monkey, with wonderful swift- 
 ness unhooked the blocks, and the boat was free. 
 Next he stepped the mast upon which the sail lay 
 furled, then the rudder; then shoved clear and 
 hoisted the small square of lug, and in a few 
 minutes he was blowing away gently into the 
 boundless blue distance, looking all about him with 
 a proud but ghastly smile for a sight of his missing 
 boy, whilst the girl lay like the dead in the bottom 
 of the boat.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 JULIA CALLS "JOHNNY!" 
 
 IT was about half-past two o'clock in the after- 
 noon and the sun shone hotly. The breeze was a 
 pleasant wind for that boat, and the captain put her 
 dead before it and blew onwards into the boundless 
 distance, squarely seated at the amidship helm, with 
 the white and placid face of the drugged girl at his 
 feet. 
 
 He would often look at her with a passionate 
 eagerness, and then direct his brilliant eyes over the 
 sea, and his countenance was now shocking with its 
 expression of real madness, charged with the ghastly 
 illumination of his one maniacal belief, that the girl, 
 who was fresh from the sea when he missed his boy, 
 knew where he was and would take him to the child, 
 and then they would return to the ship, and once 
 more the drum would rattle and the whistle awaken 
 the birds in the rigging. 
 
 Never before in all human tradition of ocean life 
 had fate painted upon the bosom of the deep a picture 
 more wonderful by virtue of its secret and tragic 
 meaning. There would be nothing in the mere scene 
 of a beautiful clipper ship under all plain sail, her 
 canvas hollowing inwards visibly, to all intents and 
 purposes derelict; there would be nothing in the 
 
 ao6
 
 ^ Julia Calls " Johnny ! " * 207 
 
 spectacle of a little open boat borne onwards by the 
 humming heart of its swelling square of canvas, 
 steered by a lonely figure, the other being hidden. 
 It might be to a distant eye the flight of a single 
 survivor from a floating pest-house. But it was the 
 story of the thing which makes it so extraordinary 
 that I who am writing pause with astonishment, 
 dismayed also by the lack of the exquisite cunning I 
 need to submit the truth. 
 
 The girl. had been drugged with morphia, but in 
 what dose, and in what doses the men, it is im- 
 possible to conjecture. The madman reading the 
 book of directions may have understood it, but in- 
 sanity had rendered memory useless when it came 
 to his mixing the poison with the liquor and the 
 wine. But she was not dead; he would have found 
 that out if he had bared her breast and put his ear 
 to the white softness. But would she die in that 
 sleep which was as death? for I believe it is the 
 heart's action that fails in such cases, and at any 
 moment her soul might return to God. 
 
 But he! poor unhappy wretch, if he understood 
 what his mad but most moving love for his child 
 had impelled him to do, his perception would not 
 be as ours. His heart burned with desire that she 
 should awake and tell him in which direction he 
 should steer, for already the ship was a toy astern, 
 three spires of ice-like radiance dipping to the eye 
 on the brows of the blue swell as the boat rose and 
 sank, jewelling the water with two foam-threaded 
 lines of little yeasty bubbles. 
 
 Would she ever awaken? How long would she 
 continue in sleep ? To some a dose of morphia pro- 
 fessionally prescribed will yield a long night's rest
 
 > The Mate of the Good Ship York *&> 
 
 not wholly unrefreshing, though the drug is obnox- 
 ious to the brain, which in time it murders. There- 
 fore she might sleep into the early hours of the 
 night. 
 
 But these were not his speculations. His mind 
 was intent on one object, and he held the boat 
 straight before the wind, waiting for her to look 
 at him and rise, and point to the spot where his boy 
 was. 
 
 It passed into about an hour before sunset. 
 
 From time to time the captain had laid his hand 
 gently upon the girl's brow, believing she would 
 open her eyes and speak to him. He was like a child 
 whose grave or tragic act was beyond his mind's 
 capacity to understand. He was painfully haggard, 
 and sweat drops were on his forehead and cheeks, 
 but the dreadful fire was always in his eyes. And 
 once he stared fixedly over the port bow of the boat 
 as though his poor brain had shaped the vision of 
 his child : he stared as though he beheld the phan- 
 tom, and when it vanished out of the perfidious cell 
 which had created it he sighed and frowned. 
 
 He took no heed of sensation ; thirst and hunger 
 may have been his, but he never left the helm to 
 drink or eat. At the hour I have named the wester- 
 ing sun was beginning to empurple the east, and he 
 was steering toward the point where the evening star 
 would rise. More than half the moon was hanging 
 in a broken shape of dim pearl over the boat's bows. 
 All at once the captain's ceaseless stare at the ocean 
 brought his eyes to an object almost directly ahead. 
 He was a sailor, and his afflicted reason could not 
 deceive him. Right ahead and within half an hour's 
 sail so low seated was the gunwale of that boat
 
 $ Julia Calls "Johnny!" $ 209 
 
 lay a small vessel, partly dismasted and deep 
 sunk. She was painted black. Her lower masts 
 were white, and both foresail and mainsail were 
 hanging, but the trysail was stowed. 
 
 " He will be there! he will be there! " cried the 
 captain in a voice that swept like a shriek from his 
 lips, and as the words left him the girl, with a long, 
 strange sigh, opened her eyes full upon the wild 
 nightmare face that was on a line with her head, for 
 he had sprung to his feet. 
 
 " He is there ! " he shouted again. 
 
 Then looking down he saw her watching him, and 
 had he been sane would have witnessed the awaken- 
 ing reason in her darkening into horror. She tried 
 to sit up, but her body was heavy as lead. 
 
 " Oh, what is this ? Where am I ? " she asked, 
 more in a mutter than in clear speech. 
 
 " He is there ! " he cried, pointing with a frantic 
 gesture, " and you have known it throughout your 
 sleep. Look ! " He stooped, put his hands under 
 her arms and lifted her out of the bottom of the 
 boat into the stern-sheets, against whose back-board 
 she sank. 
 
 Now morphia gives you but sleep if it does not 
 kill you, and reason with many is immediately active 
 when slumber is ended ; but the captain's face alone 
 would have sufficed to stimulate the most sluggish 
 consciousness into clear perception, and without 
 understanding the reason of it she grasped her 
 situation. 
 
 She was alone in a boat with the mad captain 
 of the York, and there was nothing in sight save the 
 everlasting circle of the sea girdling a small broken 
 vessel tpward which the jboat was running, for the
 
 210 f The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 captain had his hand upon the yoke, and the little 
 fabric was dead before it once again. 
 
 Despair laid the ice-cold hand of death upon the 
 poor girl's heart. What could she do ? What would 
 he do? 
 
 As the sun slowly floated down the slope he was 
 glorifying, the moon brightened her broken face. 
 Julia's lips were dry; her tongue had the rasp of a 
 cat's upon the roof of her mouth. 
 
 " Is there water here ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes. You shall have water. Put your hand 
 upon this. What sha'n't you have who have helped 
 me to find him ! " 
 
 She extended her hand and held the yoke steady, 
 and he went into the bows with the glass and filled 
 it from the breaker, all as sensibly as though he was 
 right in mind; but he stood two or three moments 
 to look at the vessel they were nearing and talk to 
 her. 
 
 She drank with the thirst of fever, and then 
 perfect realisation possessing her, a little impulse of 
 hope quickened the beat of her heart, for she thought 
 to herself, made cool by hope, " There are people in 
 that ship, and I shall be saved." 
 
 The vessel was a small brig, floating on a cargo of 
 timber. She showed a tolerable height of side, and 
 judging from her condition she had started a butt, 
 and the inrush had overmastered the pump, and as 
 her davits were empty her people had no doubt got 
 away in the boats. She made a churchyard picture 
 for forlornness, with the broken moon hanging over 
 her, though daylight still throbbed in folds of cloud 
 in the deep west. 
 
 Julia saw with a fainting heart that the brig was
 
 -f- Julia Calls "Johnny!" + 211 
 
 deserted, and she turned her eyes up to God and 
 asked what should she do ? 
 
 The captain stood in silence, with one hand back- 
 ward upon the yoke, his head inclined forward with 
 intent, searching stare. 
 
 " He may be in that brig," at last he said. " What 
 moved then ? No, 'twas the swing of the forebrace. 
 And if he is not in that vessel," he continued, in a 
 voice of cunning, " you who know where he is will 
 tell me where to steer." 
 
 She brought the whole of her wits together in her 
 resolution to live, and remembered that she had 
 given some order to this man's insanity by her 
 system of answering his talk. She exclaimed with 
 all the tranquillity she could summon : 
 
 " If he is not in that vessel, Captain Layard, you 
 will let me rest in her for the night, because if you 
 keep me sitting in this open boat I shall be worn 
 out, or I might die I am not strong and how, 
 then, could I help you to find little Johnny ? " 
 
 " Right ! You are right," he answered, swiftly ; 
 " you shall rest in that brig if he is not there; but if 
 he is there," changing his voice into a note of tri- 
 umph, he added, " we must rejoin the ship, because 
 I want the men to see him. And I am dying for 
 his company at night, and for the sound of his 
 drum." 
 
 As he spoke these words the boat was alongside 
 the abandoned timberman, and with the dexterity 
 of a sailor for in all professional work he was 
 as sane as the sanest he put the helm down, sprang 
 to let go the halliards of the lug, and secured the boat 
 by passing her painter through a channel plate. 
 
 This brig had old-fashioned channels, which were
 
 ai2 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 platforms secured to the ship's side so as to give a 
 wide spread to the shrouds and backstays. The boat 
 sat close beside the main-channel. With the resolu- 
 tion of one who works for life the girl seized the 
 lanyards of the dead-eyes, and with the ease which 
 her graceful figure would have promised gained the 
 platform of channel, and a minute later the deck. 
 
 With aberration disciplined by professional habit 
 the captain went to work, his intentions being per- 
 fectly sane, save that he discovered an extraordinary 
 anxiety and eagerness to get on board the brig. He 
 knew that he and the girl were to pass the night in 
 the vessel, and so, with the quick motions of madness 
 and with the strength which madness often confers, 
 he got the breaker of water into the main-channel, 
 then placed beside it the stock of provisions he had 
 stowed away aft, and called to Julia: 
 
 " Do you see him ? " 
 
 " Come on deck, and we will look," she answered, 
 for now that she stood on a solid deck her nerve had 
 returned. 
 
 " Steady this breaker on the rail," he called. 
 
 He handed it on to the rail, and she held it. He 
 then threw the provisions on to the deck, leapt in- 
 board, and placed the breaker betwixt a couple of 
 loose planks. The moon was shining brightly, and 
 its light rippled in lines of lustrous pearl. The 
 heave of the sea was slow and solemn, the wind was 
 soft and weak, and the west was still scored with 
 streaks of crimson ; but night was at hand, and some 
 stars were trembling in the east. 
 
 She was one of those little brigs which are among 
 the quaintest of the marine objects of the port or 
 harbour. Her forward-deck from the main-hatch-
 
 & Julia Calls "Johnny!" ^ 213 
 
 way was heaped with timber cleverly stowed, with 
 room for a little caboose and a narrow alley to it 
 from the hatch. Some of the running rigging lay 
 loose about the decks, and this gave her a look of 
 confusion. Otherwise, from the appearance of her 
 deck cargo, it was clear that she had not been hurt 
 by weather. A deck-house nearly filled the quarter- 
 deck ; there was just room on either hand for a man 
 to walk. 
 
 The captain stood silent for a minute staring about 
 him. He then muttered : 
 
 " Nothing moves ; I see nothing alive. He may 
 be there. Come, for it will be you to see him first." 
 
 He went to the door of the deck-house, and Julia 
 followed. Two windows stood on either side the 
 door, and four windows ran down either wall. But 
 when they entered the moon made so faint a light 
 through the door and the windows that it was diffi- 
 cult to see. Yet distinctive features of the interior 
 were visible: a table, three or four chairs, and a 
 bulkhead abaft, which might screen from the living- 
 room two holes for the skipper and his mate to 
 sleep in. 
 
 " Call him," whispered the captain, as though he 
 stood in a dead-house. 
 
 " Johnny ! " cried the girl, " come to father if you 
 are here, Johnny ! " 
 
 She had a wonderful spirit to say this. She felt 
 the horrible mockery of it and the recoil of its 
 ghastly derisiveness upon her heart, but she knew 
 that Hardy could not be far off, and would seek her. 
 The passion of life was strong in her, and she judged 
 that her only chance lay in inspiriting the poor man's 
 dreadful conviction that she could help him to find 
 his son.
 
 214 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 " Call him again," said the captain, and again she 
 called. 
 
 He advanced a step, and she saw him in the faint 
 suffusion straining in a posture of desperate gaze, of 
 desperate hearkening, as though his teeth were set 
 and the sweat of blood was on his brow, and the 
 palms of his hands were bloody with the penetration 
 of the finger-nails. 
 
 At that moment she heard a single stroke of a 
 bell. She started with a cry, with instant rejoicing, 
 for she believed there were men in the vessel. 
 
 "What was that?" said the captain. 
 
 "A bell!" she exclaimed. 
 
 " O God ! it may be Johnny ! " he shouted, and 
 he rushed through the open door. 
 
 She quickly followed ; she was not a superstitious 
 fool, she was a girl at sea, and, as a girl might, she 
 supposed that if a bell were struck upon a ship's 
 deck it was by a man. 
 
 A small bell was hung betwixt the foremast and 
 the foremost end of the galley or caboose, and im- 
 mediately under it lay, bottom up, secured to the 
 deck, a small tub of a boat. It was easy to under- 
 stand why the bell should have tolled. It had been 
 struck by some bight of buntline or clewline in the 
 sway of the brig as she heeled to the fold, and the 
 sharp return of the bell jerked the tongue against 
 the metal side in a single stroke. 
 
 But the captain was too mad to understand this, 
 and Julia was a girl at sea without eyes for bights 
 of running gear. She was startled, nay, a sudden 
 horror of superstition visited her when following the 
 captain. She stood near the bell and saw no signs 
 of human creature. She cast looks of fear all about ;
 
 <&> Julia Calls "Johnny!" $ 215 
 
 one, even one, man would protect her against the 
 horrible yokedom of this passage. The planks had 
 the sheen of satin in the moonlight, and the power 
 of the satellite sufficed to fling dark shadows upon 
 the decks, and these shadows moved as the brig 
 rolled. But she saw no man; and what ghostly 
 hand then had struck that bell ? For the night might 
 go before the swing of the bight of gear should, 
 by adjustment of the rolling of the vessel, exactly 
 hit the bell again and make it ring. 
 
 The captain began to call, " Johnny, Johnny, 
 where are you? Come out of your hiding-place, 
 little sonny. Here's father waiting for you." 
 
 He breathed deep, listening and gazing about him ; 
 but no other reply reached his ear than the sob of 
 water under the bow, the moan of night wind in 
 the rigging, the sullen slap of canvas against the 
 mast. 
 
 " Do you see him ? " the captain asked, and the 
 eyes of madness sparkled in the moonshine as he 
 turned his gaze upon the girl. 
 
 She answered, huskily, " No, I do not see him. 
 Who struck that bell ? " 
 
 " He did," said the captain. " O God ! O ever- 
 lasting Father! Why does he hide himself from 
 me?" 
 
 He clasped his hands and raised them and looked 
 up, and in that posture he muttered as though he 
 prayed, and all. the while Julia was staring about 
 her, faint with fear, and with the sight of that 
 imploring figure of afflicted manhood ; for who had 
 struck the bell? And did the dead come to life 
 again in phantoms? And was the spirit of Johnny 
 invisibly present ?
 
 216 *^ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 Poor Julia! 
 
 " He may come out of his hiding-place if we go 
 aft," said the captain in his voice of cunning. 
 "Stop!" 
 
 He stepped to the little caboose and entered it. 
 
 " Not here, not here," he groaned as he came out, 
 " but we must have patience. We will sit and wait. 
 We'll sit and watch the deck, and at any moment 
 you may see his little figure coming along." 
 
 Weak with fear and superstition, and the horror 
 of her ghastly situation, she followed the miserable 
 man to the deck-house. He entered and brought out 
 two chairs, which he placed in front of the door, and 
 they sat down. It was certain that the man believed 
 the child to be in this abandoned vessel, and this was 
 assurance to Julia that he would not compel her to 
 enter the boat and sail away in search of the boy. 
 The thought inspired some faint hope; she knew 
 that this was no unfrequented tract of ocean, and 
 that even if Hardy did not seek her, any hour next 
 day might bring along some ship which she could 
 signal to by flourishing her handkerchief. But 
 Hardy! She began to think whilst her dreadful 
 companion sat beside her staring along the moon- 
 lighted deck, and waiting for his boy to come. She 
 fully understood that she had been drugged; her 
 thoughts went to the medicine-chest ; had the captain 
 poisoned Hardy and the rest of the crew that he 
 might steal her from the ship? This puzzled her, 
 for if the crew had been drugged they might have 
 been drugged to death by the irresponsible hand of 
 this madman, and Hardy would be lost to her for 
 ever, and his ship would not come to rescue her. 
 
 These were her thoughts " too deep for tears," but
 
 f* Julia Calls "Johnny!" $ 217 
 
 it was fortunate that she had slept soundly and well 
 in the boat, for now, though wearied in bone and 
 faint at heart, she was as sleepless as the poor, tire- 
 less creature beside her. She could not have endured 
 to enter the deck-house and rest there; she needed 
 the companionship of the moon and the stars, and 
 the visible surface of the deep blackening out from 
 either hand the wake of the luminary to its limitless 
 recesses. The whisper of the wind in the rigging 
 was companionship, but the movements of the shad- 
 ows upon the whitened planks were a perpetual fear, 
 for who had struck the bell? and was the vessel 
 haunted? Her throat was parched and she asked 
 for water. 
 
 " Certainly ; oh, yes. He is long in coming, but 
 when he comes we'll rejoin the ship," the captain 
 said as he rose, and quite sanely he went to the 
 breaker, filled the tumbler, and returned with a 
 glassful and a biscuit. 
 
 There was the courtesy of good breeding in the 
 poor fellow as he handed her the glass, for the soul 
 that is never mad will shine through disease, and 
 Captain Layard, who was born a gentleman, proved 
 a gentleman even when insane. She drank grate- 
 fully and ate the biscuit. 
 
 He took the glass from her and filled it for him- 
 self, but did not eat. Then he returned to his chair, 
 and that dreadful watch on deck again began. Often 
 he would say: 
 
 " Do you see him ? Why should he keep in 
 hiding?" 
 
 And sometimes he would quit his seat and go to 
 the rail, and look into the sea over the side. 
 
 The water swarmed with fire this night ; the chilly
 
 2i 8 * The Mate of the Good Ship York <$ 
 
 sea-glow started in fibres, in clouds like luminous 
 smoke, in coils like revolving eels, and it is con- 
 ceivable that the crazed eye which was bent upon 
 these lights should fashion them into phantasms, 
 into grotesque shapes, into the crowd of brassy faces 
 which the sealed but waking vision beholds when the 
 brain is drugged. He would spend twenty minutes 
 in searching the waters, and then cross to the other 
 side and spend a quarter of an hour in a like hunt. 
 Always when he returned to his chair he would 
 mutter to himself, " Why doesn't he come? " And 
 once he started up with a frantic cry which was 
 frightful with inarticulateness ; he dashed his hand to 
 his forehead and held it there, with his left arm 
 stiffened out and the fingers curled with the agony 
 of his mind. 
 
 At that moment the bell was again struck, and 
 now it was Julia who shrieked. She started up and 
 bent her head forward, thinking to see the figure that 
 had struck the bell. The captain broke into a wild 
 laugh. 
 
 " I see him ! I see him ! " he cried. " O Johnny, 
 I'm your father ! " and he started into a run with his 
 arms outstretched, as if to seize the phantom he 
 beheld. 
 
 He ran past the bell, and crying, " I am coming, 
 Johnny, I am coming! " climbed on to the top of 
 the deck load, and in a strange croaking voice, as 
 though it proceeded from some huge sea-bird sailing 
 overhead, he exclaimed : 
 
 " There you are at last, my Johnny ! Father is 
 coming to you ! " and sprang overboard. 
 
 Julia fell upon the deck and lay lifeless in a swoon.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THEY MEET 
 
 IT was moonlight on the sea, and the full-rigged 
 ship York lay with her canvas aback, silently heav- 
 ing upon the swell. But by the eye of a sailor a 
 certain moisture would have been visible in the silver 
 suffusion, and he might hardly have needed to look 
 at the glass to guess that this calm scene of ocean 
 night would in a few hours show a changed face. 
 The time was shortly after ten. 
 
 The lamp in the cabin was unlighted, but the 
 moon shone upon the skylight, and the darkness 
 was whitened by it, and all features of the interior 
 were visible. Hardy lay stretched upon the cabin 
 deck, and within an arm's reach of him rested the 
 great Newfoundland dog, secured by a chain to the 
 leg of the table. The picture was wonderful for its 
 human stillness : you heard no tramp of foot, no call 
 of voice. The very sails slept against the masts, and 
 nothing was audible but the complaint of a bulkhead 
 or some strong fastening as the ship sluggishly took 
 the run of the fold. 
 
 All of a sudden Hardy opened his eyes, and 
 having opened them he kept them open, staring 
 with just that look of bewilderment and astonish- 
 
 219
 
 220 f> The Mate of the Good Ship York *& 
 
 ment which had been in Julia's dawning gaze. He 
 tried to raise his head and thought it was a cannon- 
 ball, but the dog had noticed the motion, and in- 
 stantly alert with joy barked in deep-throated notes, 
 with endless wagging of the tail. 
 
 This tremendous noise close in his ear was as gal- 
 vanism to the dead frog. Hardy sat up and looked 
 at the dog and then looked round him, and feeling 
 all the sensations of a man drugged with liquor, 
 believed, without being able to remember, that he 
 had fallen down drunk. This is the sensation of the 
 man who is fortunate enough to awake from the 
 stupefaction of laudanum. 
 
 " Good God ! What is this ? " Hardy muttered, 
 and he squeezed his brow with his hands as you 
 would wring a swab to drain the wet out of it; 
 
 Then slowly memory began to operate, whilst the 
 dog was straining to reach him and caress him. 
 " My God ! " he thought after a passage of reflec- 
 tion, " the madman poisoned us when we drank his 
 health ! " And then it all came to him. He rose to 
 his feet, but his legs trembled and he could hardly 
 stand. " Where is Julia? " and next, " Where is the 
 captain ? " 
 
 The dog began to bark with something of fury, 
 and Hardy with trembling hands removed the collar 
 from the brute's neck. The noble animal sprang 
 upon Hardy in affectionate caress and nearly felled 
 him with its weight, then dashed into the captain's 
 cabin, the door of which swung ajar, and Hardy 
 followed. He could hardly see, it was so dark here, 
 and he felt the captain's bunk and wandered round 
 on staggering legs, feeling. His throat was as hot 
 as the bowl of a lighted pipe, and it felt the hotter
 
 $ They Meet 9 221 
 
 when he heard the dog in the cabin lapping at some 
 water in the dish that was meant for its use. He 
 went to the swing-tray, where there was water, and 
 drank a full draught, which greatly helped him both 
 in wits and body, then entered Julia's cabin and felt 
 the bunk and found she was not there. " What has 
 he done?" he thought, and with heavy limbs he 
 made his way on deck. 
 
 The light was brilliant enough after the cabin 
 gloom, and he could see clearly. He stood in the 
 hatch, holding by the companion-hood. 
 
 Abreast of him lay, in convulsed posture, the fig- 
 ure of the second mate, Candy. He turned his head 
 and saw the shape of a man lying prostrate beside 
 the wheel. He took note by the aid of the moon 
 that the wheel was lashed, then his eyes travelled 
 to a pair of empty davits, and he staggered to them 
 and looked down. He could trace the black lines 
 of the falls, and saw the blocks as the ship swayed, 
 kindling fire in the dark water. 
 
 He was a sailor, and at once understood it all. A 
 groan escaped his lips whilst he thought, " He has 
 gone away in the boat with Julia to seek his son. 
 How am I to recover her? " And the horror of her 
 situation alone in an open boat with a madman 
 penetrated his heart, and seemed to petrify him. 
 He could just distinguish two or three dark figures 
 overhanging the forecastle rail, and a couple of 
 sailors lay motionless upon the deck a little way 
 abaft the galley. 
 
 The dog had bounded up out of the cabin, and 
 was wandering around sniffing at one silent figure 
 and another : no doubt he was in quest of his master. 
 Then it occurred to Hardy to remember that the
 
 222 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York 9 
 
 grog had been served out at noon. Suppose he had 
 got away at two. 
 
 What sort of breeze was then blowing? 
 
 He reflected and remembered. 
 
 He would sail dead away and right before it, for 
 he had no destination, and was sure to shape the 
 crow's course. " Grant her four miles an hour, and 
 this is ten o'clock," he thought, pulling out his watch 
 and holding it to the moon. " The boat may have 
 covered thirty miles of sea. They may have been 
 fallen in with and rescued, for Julia would shriek her 
 story, and the captain might believe that Johnny was 
 aboard. But how shall I know? How shall I 
 know? I must take it that the boat is still afloat, 
 and Julia must be saved." 
 
 He considered the direction of the wind, and 
 made up his mind to the course that must be steered ; 
 but now as to the crew. He went to Candy and, 
 kneeling, shook him, put his hand to his face, put 
 his' ear to his mouth, and easily saw that he was 
 dead. The discovery thrilled through him like the 
 cut of a sword on the shoulder. He walked to the 
 figure beside the wheel, and in a little while could 
 not doubt that the man, too, was dead. It was not 
 because he was a doctor's son that he needed to be 
 informed of the action of a heavy dose of laudanum, 
 or some poisonous drug of that sort, upon the move- 
 ments of a weak heart. But there were live men for- 
 ward, and with sluggish motions of his limbs he 
 went that way. 
 
 He stooped over the two figures abaft the galley, 
 and detected life in them. He then stepped on to 
 the forecastle, and the first man he spoke to was the 
 boatswain, who was resting his head in his arm
 
 f They Meet $ 223 
 
 upon the rail. He now saw there were three others 
 near him, and two were sitting on the coamings of 
 the forescuttle. 
 
 " The captain was mad and has drugged us," said 
 Hardy. " He has taken the lady with him, and I 
 want to give chase. Where are the rest of the 
 men?" 
 
 " As the Lord is God," answered the boatswain, 
 " don't my precious head know it's been drugged. 
 Talk o' Shanghaing! But I never knowed it from 
 the hand of a skipper nor worse than this." 
 
 " I want to trim sail, and make a start to rescue 
 the lady," said Hardy. 
 
 " You'll not get the men to move if there was 
 twenty ladies to be rescooed," responded the boat- 
 swain, who spoke as if he was drunk. 
 
 " I ha'n't got strength to lift a sprat to my mouth 
 if I was starving," said one of the men, who leaned 
 with folded arms as though at any moment the three 
 of them would sink exhausted to the deck. 
 
 It drove Hardy crazy with a consuming desire to 
 start in chase to see their helplessness and to feel 
 his own. But what was he to do ! Here were four 
 men, and two sitting on the coamings of the scuttle, 
 and two alive, though prostrate, near the galley 
 eight men, and more perhaps below in the forecastle. 
 
 So he went to the hatch and asked the two men 
 how they felt. They answered with curses, swearing 
 they'd have hove the captain overboard before he 
 should ha' poisoned them. 
 
 " He was mad," said Hardy. " I knew it, and 
 wondered you didn't see it and ask me to act. He 
 has poisoned me and stolen my sweetheart away 
 to her destruction, but we'll chase the beggar the 
 moment we are able."
 
 224 ** The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 They growled out something and he looked down 
 the scuttle. A sailor had lighted the slush lamp; 
 some man, perhaps, who was less ill than the others 
 on recovery, or who had the best sense then about. 
 Hardy descended and stood under the hatch, looking 
 round him. I would not like to say how many men 
 were here, because I do not know what the owner of 
 the ship chose to think her complement. Hardy 
 might have counted eight or ten men, in bunks, 
 hammocks, or seated on their sea-chests. The faces 
 he saw were ghastly, as though this ocean-parlour 
 were plague-stricken. He went from one to another 
 to see if all were alive, and they all proved so. The 
 swing of the flame flung shadows like contortions on 
 the visible faces. It was hot down here, and Hardy 
 felt sick with the drug, whose effects were not yet 
 expended. Some breathed deep : the human respi- 
 ration threaded the subdued moan of water. 
 
 "What's been done to us?" said a man sitting 
 on a chest. 
 
 " We've all been drugged by a lunatic who's car- 
 ried off my sweetheart," answered Hardy. " There's 
 to be a shift of weather, and the ship's under all 
 plain sail and aback, and the helm lashed. Any of 
 you here able to come on deck and swing the yards 
 and take the wheel ? " 
 
 The devil a one ! So Hardy climbed with leaden 
 limbs through the square hole and walked slowly 
 aft, and sat down on the skylight. 
 
 The Newfoundland came out of a shadow and 
 lay at his feet. A fair light, with power of paint- 
 ing jetty strokes that slided upon the pale planks, 
 flowed from the moon. But the broken orb was 
 hazy, and the mate's eyes saw the darkness of wind
 
 f They Meet -* 225 
 
 gathering in vapour in the west or thereabouts. So 
 the breeze that had been steady all day was to harden 
 sooner or later out of its quarter, and the ship under 
 all plain sail lay aback to it. But Hardy felt too 
 weak to move the wheel, even if by so doing he 
 could have helped the ship; nor, though she could 
 have swung to fill her breasts with canvas, which 
 would have been impossible, he'd have let her lie 
 as she was because, with the yards trimmed as they 
 stood, he couldn't have shaped a course for the direc- 
 tion which he believed the madman had taken. 
 
 He sat and thought and waited. It was miserable 
 to see the dead figure of Candy lying there, and 
 miserable when he turned his head to see the dead 
 figure of the sailor beside the wheel. What an un- 
 paralleled act! How deep and cunning beyond all 
 credibility, and yet as true as the misty radiance 
 floating in shimmering folds upon the dark and 
 silent heave! His brain was every minute clear- 
 ing, and he realised more intently as the time slipped 
 by that, if yonder shadow meant heavy weather, 
 the girl was lost, unless a passing ship had picked 
 them up; but how would Hardy know? 
 
 In about half an hour one of the figures at the 
 forecastle rail came slowly aft. He stopped and 
 bent over the two forms lying abaft the galley. 
 Hardy heard him speak to them, and he could just 
 catch the murmur of their replies. They had there- 
 fore come to, and no doubt would be sitting up and 
 moving about shortly. 
 
 The figure that had left the forecastle rail came 
 along, and Hardy saw it was the boatswain. The 
 man went to the body of Candy, and looking round 
 said, in a hollow voice:
 
 226 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 "Is he dead?" 
 
 "Ay, stone dead; and so is yonder," replied 
 Hardy. 
 
 " What took him to do it? " asked the boatswain, 
 coming to Hardy's side. 
 
 " Why does a madman tear up his clothes ? " 
 replied Hardy. " How are those fellows in the 
 waist there? " 
 
 " They're reviving," answered the boatswain. 
 " He must ha' put plenty in. Dommed if ever I was 
 treated like this before by the capt'n of a ship. Tell 
 you what, sir, there's weather comin' along," and 
 he cast the eye of an experienced sailor up aloft 
 at the canvas and then at the moon, at which he 
 shook his head. 
 
 Yes, her broken face had taken a glutinous reddish 
 look as though she was a smear of pink currant 
 jam, and her light was gone out of the sea. There 
 was no more wind, but it was thickening westwards, 
 and you might look for a slap of squall any moment, 
 the shriek of the shot of the storm gun sweeping 
 betwixt shroud and mast, and the ship lay aback 
 under all plain sail, and there was no longer light 
 of moonshine on her canvas. 
 
 " Just see if we can't get men enough to brace 
 these yards square," said Hardy. " We can let go 
 and clew up and wait till the men are strong enough 
 to stow the canvas; but if we lie like this something 
 may come to whip the masts out of her." 
 
 But it was a full half -hour before hands enough 
 could be collected, and they all seemed as though 
 freshly awakened from the crimp's debauch; their 
 knees shook, their heads lolled, they lifted their 
 arms as though they were operated upon by slow
 
 $ They Meet <j* 227 
 
 machinery. Yet the business, in a fashion, was con- 
 trived. They clewed up the royals and topgallant- 
 sails, they hauled up the mainsail, they let go some 
 jib and staysail halliards, and they brailed the 
 mizzen to the mast. The least dead of the poor 
 fellows took the helm, and the ship with her head 
 to the eastward, with much flap of canvas aloft, 
 bowed slowly over the black run of swell. Her 
 pace was very slow because the wind was light, and 
 all the canvas she showed to it were two topsails and 
 her forecourse. 
 
 This was as Hardy desired, because the moon was 
 slowly vanishing like a dimming stain of bloody 
 ooze, and it promised a black night. If he had 
 held the ship moving under all her wings she would 
 have passed the boat if she had not run her down, 
 for it was his conviction, heaven inspired, that the 
 madman had blown away straight before it, and how 
 prophetically right he was in that we all know, and 
 yet for some hours it remained very quiet, though 
 black as the inside of a coal sack. Again this was 
 as Hardy could have prayed for, as this raven seren- 
 ity promised security to the boat, and if it lasted till 
 daybreak she might be in sight. 
 
 The mate and another man placed the two bodies 
 on the quarter-deck side by side under the bul- 
 warks, clear of the gear, and hid them under a 
 tarpaulin. It would not have been proper nor decent 
 to have buried them out of hand, for though Hardy 
 had no doubt that they were dead, he yet felt that 
 time should be given to prove it; and so the two 
 figures lay motionless under the tarpaulin. 
 
 The stars and moon went out and it blew very 
 faint with a deepening of the blackness overhead,
 
 228 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 so that you looked for lightning. About three 
 o'clock some of the men had come out of the fore- 
 castle, and by Hardy's commands the galley fire 
 was lighted and strong coffee brewed. This won- 
 derfully refreshed the men, and Hardy then asked 
 them if they thought they were strong enough to go 
 aloft and furl the lighter canvas, as he could not 
 tell at what moment heavy weather might set in. 
 The poor fellows managed it somehow, but were 
 long over it. Then as many as were equal furled 
 the mainsail, at which hour it was hard upon day- 
 break. In the blackness of those small hours it was 
 impossible to guess the character of the sky, and 
 in which direction the soot of it was trending. But 
 all of a sudden the wind freshened with a long, 
 melancholy wail, as though 'twas the spirit of the 
 night that was dying, the troubled water ran in 
 fitful flashes, and the ship broke the brine into 
 white foam about her. The mate talked with the 
 boatswain beside the quarter-deck skylight: they 
 were both almost recovered, and you could hear 
 reviving life in voices about the deck. 
 
 " I have no doubt," said Hardy, " that the captain 
 blew away straight from the ship's side, because you 
 see he had no destination in his mind." 
 
 " Not onlikely," answered the boatswain. 
 
 " Suppose I'm right," continued Hardy, " then I 
 reckon we're not abreast of her yet; but if I pass 
 the boat before the light comes and it proves thick, 
 as I fancy you'll find it, we shall miss her for good, 
 and I want my sweetheart badly." 
 
 " That's quite natural," said the boatswain. 
 " We're walkin' now and the breeze freshens, and 
 if you think you are right, sir, in steering as we go,
 
 9 They Meet $ 229 
 
 then what d'ye say to hauling up the foresail and 
 lowering the maintopsail-yard on the cap, and man- 
 ning the reef-tackles ? " 
 
 " Get it done," said Hardy. 
 
 It was easily done, for it was not a furling job. 
 A bit of sea was beginning to run ; it smacked the 
 ship under the counter, and flooded the wake with 
 light. Hardy walked up and down the deck, mad 
 with desire for daybreak. He was steering by a 
 theory of a madman's action, and he might be 
 wrong, and if he was wrong but even if he was 
 right, how would the boat fare in the sea that was 
 now running with a madman at the yoke, and the 
 full sail and tearing sheet gripped by the hand of 
 madness ? 
 
 These were considerations scarce endurable to the 
 man, and for ever he was sending searching glances 
 ahead for the ghastly hue of the dawn. The day 
 broke at last, and it was a day of gloom and mist 
 and a narrow horizon; the sky was a dome of 
 apparently motionless vapour, and each surge ere it 
 broke arched in an edge of flint, and the whole sur- 
 face was an olive-green decorated by lines of foam. 
 
 As yet there was no great weight in the wind, but 
 the sailor's eyes saw that more was to be expected. 
 Hardy went to his cabin for a glass of his own. He 
 slung it over his shoulder, and regaining the deck 
 sprang aloft to the height of the mizzen-top, from 
 which altitude, with the glass set firmly against the 
 topmast-rigging, he searched the sea. As the lenses 
 made the circuit there leapt into the field of the 
 telescope the apparition of a little brig unmistakenly 
 derelict, with loose canvas hollowing like a kite 
 against the masts. He examined her intently, and
 
 230 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 then muttering, " They may be aboard that vessel. 
 It is a chance. The madman may have taken refuge, 
 or thought his son was there," he threw the strap of 
 the telescope over his head, and noting the brig's 
 bearing, descended. 
 
 He walked rapidly aft to the compass, and found 
 that the brig was in sight from the quarter-deck. 
 She bore a little to the west of south. The New- 
 foundland, seeing Hardy looking, spied the brig and 
 barked his report of a sail in sight. 
 
 " Lads ! " shouted Hardy, running a little way 
 forward, " there is a brig on the quarter. We'll see 
 if she can give us any news, although abandoned. 
 Starboard mainbrace, starboard foretopsail-brace 
 smartly as possible, my lads. Starboard your 
 helm!" 
 
 And slowly, for the helm was wearily worked and 
 the braces were dragged by languid hands, the yards 
 came round, and then the maintopsail was mast- 
 headed, and the ship with the wind right abeam 
 crushed the flint-like surge into froth, and forged 
 ahead for the abandoned vessel. 
 
 It was time to make for her if she was to be 
 visited at all, for the horizon was narrowing and 
 narrowing with the thickness of rain, and soon 
 within the distance of a mile the brig would have 
 vanished. Hardy's glass was full of powerful lenses 
 its magnifying power was double that of the 
 ship's telescope; when he now put it to his eye he 
 instantly saw a figure just this side of the brig's 
 main-rigging waving something white. 
 
 His heart brightened. He looked again. She 
 was a woman, and alone! The boatswain was 
 coming aft as Hardy looked forward.
 
 $ They Meet $ 231 
 
 " There's a figure aboard that brig," he shouted. 
 " It's a woman, and she's waving a handkerchief." 
 
 " She'll be yourn," said the boatswain, and as 
 surprise did not immediately follow perception, he 
 added, "Well, I'm damned!" 
 
 " Stand by to back the maintopsail ! " roared 
 Hardy, who was delirious with excitement. " Let 
 some hands lay aft and clear away the starboard 
 quarter-boat ready for lowering. I'd board her if 
 twice this sea was running. I knew I was right. 
 I knew he'd head straight away. I knew I'd find 
 her by shaping the madman's course." 
 
 " Suppose it isn't her ? " said the boatswain. 
 
 " To hell with your supposings ! " yelled Hardy. 
 " In any case it's a woman, and she must be taken 
 off." 
 
 The men came aft and got ready the boat and 
 stood aft, prepared for the command to back the 
 maintopsail. Again Hardy levelled the glass. The 
 girl for we know who it was had ceased to 
 flutter her handkerchief; but the wind, full of wet, 
 bewildered the eye, and the mate would make no 
 more of it than this : the figure was a woman. 
 
 He headed the York so as to heave to to wind- 
 ward of the brig, and a little while before the top- 
 sail-yard was backed Hardy had seen and mentally 
 kissed the poor girl's face in the lens, and frantic 
 with joy was waving his cap to her, whilst she, 
 guessing who- it would be that motioned thus, tossed 
 her handkerchief again and again. 
 
 The ship was brought to a stand, and Hardy 
 shouted, " I am coming to fetch you." 
 
 She waved her hand. There was an ugly bit of 
 sea between for a boat, choppy, with deep sucking
 
 232 -* The Mate of the Good Ship York +> 
 
 hollows, and plenty of spiteful foam to whiten over 
 the low gunwales. 
 
 " Who'll volunteer? " said Hardy. " Three will 
 do." 
 
 " Blast me," said one of them, " if I don't feel as 
 I should be in the road in a boat." 
 
 " You'rt likely," said Hardy, pointing to another 
 " and you, and you. Three will do, and it shall 
 be two pound a man, which God knows I wouldn't 
 offer for a deed of duty, only you're lowered by the 
 captain's drug." 
 
 " Right y' are, sir," said Jim, who got in the boat 
 and was followed by Tom and Joe. 
 
 The mate sprang into the stern-sheets and shipped 
 the rudder. 
 
 " Lower away handsomely ! " he shouted, " and 
 drop the hauling part that we may overhaul the 
 falls." 
 
 Unfortunately the blocks were without patent clip 
 hooks, and the moment the boat was water-borne the 
 fore-bottom of her was nearly wrenched out by her 
 fall into the hollow ere the languid bow oar could 
 release the block. But it was done, and they got 
 away. 
 
 She nearly filled three times in her passage. The 
 drag of the oars was not strong enough; they 
 wanted the long and steady sweep of their old power 
 to rescue the boat from the arch of foam astern. 
 Yet they managed to get alongside, and with the 
 swift leap of the sailor Hardy gained the main- 
 chains, and in a minute was standing on the main- 
 deck, with Julia sobbing in his arms. 
 
 "Where is the captain?" were almost the first 
 words Hardy addressed to her.
 
 <+ They Meet f 233 
 
 " He drowned himself," she answered, speaking 
 sobbingly with tumult of passion. " He made me 
 sit there beside him " she pointed to the deck- 
 house front "and watch for the coming of the 
 boy. The bell was struck it was strangely struck. 
 He thought it was his child, and he ran forward 
 and climbed upon those pieces of timber as though 
 his little son was beckoning, and then he cried out 
 he was coming and sprang overboard, and I fainted. 
 Oh, since I returned to consciousness what a time 
 it has been! And yet and yet I felt you were 
 near and would come." 
 
 As she spoke the wind howled with a sudden note 
 of raving in the rigging, and deep as the brig was 
 her loose canvas was inswept till it depressed her by 
 a couple of strakes, and you might have thought 
 she was settling, and with this sudden blast came on 
 a heavy squall of rain, which thickened the air till 
 the ship that was on the quarter loomed a surging 
 and streaming phantom. At the same moment cries 
 were heard over the side. Hardy rushed to the rail, 
 and what did he see ? 
 
 The boat was stove and full ! One man had dis- 
 appeared, and the two others were floating a fathom 
 or two beyond her locked in each other's embrace. 
 
 Hardy sprang to the brig's quarter, crying, " O 
 God ! O my God ! " as he ran. 
 
 He slipped some bights of running gear off a pin, 
 and yelling " Look out for the end of this line ! " 
 he hove. 
 
 One could not swim, and clung to the other who 
 could, and there was no virtue in a rope's end 
 though flung by an angel of God to save them. For 
 one moment the line was close ; the desperate heave
 
 234 ** The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 of the half-drowned fabric dragged it fathoms out 
 of reach. The pitiless seas broke over them, and 
 with agony of mind, and a heart almost in halves, 
 Hardy saw them vanish. 
 
 The girl stood beside him with uplifted arms, 
 frozen by horror into the marble rigidity of a statue. 
 It was going to blow a gale. The black scowl of 
 the sky had the menace of storm in its fixity. No 
 yellow curl of scud, no faintness here or there 
 relieved that grim, austere, down-look. The day 
 might. have been closing, so dusky it was with the 
 flying sheets of rain and the white haze torn out of 
 the foaming brow by the rending hand of the wind. 
 The seas swung fast and fierce, and serpentine pil- 
 lars of white water leapt on high from the brig's 
 side, and fled in shrieking clouds of sparkles to 
 leeward. 
 
 " We shall lose the ship," said Hardy, with the 
 coolness of desperation. " We could not launch that 
 boat," and he pointed to the small, chubby fabric 
 that lay stowed near the foremast; "and if we 
 could she would not live a minute. What became 
 of your boat ? " 
 
 " I looked for her," she answered, " and saw her 
 floating yonder in the moonlight. The captain fas- 
 tened her rope to something and it slipped." 
 
 " Come out of the wet," said he. " We can do no 
 good here. They'll keep the ship hove to, and the 
 weather may clear by noon." 
 
 They entered the deck-house, and Hardy began to 
 explore it, and in the two little cabins aft he found 
 all the information he required about this abandoned 
 brig. The log-book was dated down to two days 
 earlier, and the entries were by a hand that spelt
 
 $ They Meet f 235 
 
 in the speech of Newcastle-on-Tyne. She was the 
 Betsy, of Sunderland. The sea began to flow into 
 her on a sudden to some gape or yarn of butt-end; 
 you can't tell how it is until you dry-dock them. 
 She would have gone down in an hour, despite her 
 pump, but for the timber on which she floated. By 
 the entries it was clear the crew had stuck to her for 
 two days. Hardy then guessed that, growing weary 
 of waiting for a ship, they had gone away in the 
 boat. In one cabin he found a telescope and an 
 old-fashioned quadrant, some wearing apparel, and 
 a tall hat such as an old skipper might wear, bronzed 
 by weather, and instantly suggesting to an active 
 imagination a round, purple face, streaks of white 
 whisker, a chocolate-coloured shawl round the 
 throat, and a nose of the colour of a bottle of rum 
 in the sun. 
 
 The old fagot was beginning to tumble about, 
 the water foamed on the deck, and the launch of 
 the surge at the staggering bow would strike a 
 whole sheet of spume over the forestay, and then it 
 fell in cataractal thunder. Hardy shut the deck- 
 house door. He was something more than uneasy. 
 Their alarming situation drove all thought of the 
 wonder of it out of his head. If it came on harder 
 and a heavy sea ran, would .this old sieve hold 
 together? would the deck-house cling to the deck? 
 What would they do aboard the York? Candy was 
 dead and she was without a navigator. The boat- 
 swain was a good practical seaman, and in him lay 
 Hardy's hope. The boatswain was not the man to 
 abandon the mate and the girl if he could help it. 
 But suppose the ship was blown away so that when 
 the weather cleared the brig was not in sight, what
 
 236 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York -^ 
 
 would, or rather, what could, the boatswain do? 
 He had not the navigator's art, and might not 
 therefore know how to pick the brig up. Their con- 
 dition was frightful; the lazarette was awash; he 
 could not seek food in flooded timber. He sat down 
 beside the girl. 
 
 " I cannot realise that you are with me," she 
 said. 
 
 Her dress was damp, and raindrops sparkled upon 
 her face and hair. He drew out his handkerchief, 
 which lay dry in his pocket, and softly passed it over 
 her face and hair. She was loving him with her 
 eyes. Never did human passion make the eyes of 
 a woman more beautiful. 
 
 " You must be starving," he said. 
 
 " No, the captain brought some food and water." 
 
 " Tell me where it is," he cried, starting to his 
 feet. 
 
 She told him where the breaker was and the glass, 
 and the parcel of provisions. He rushed out. The 
 contents of the breaker could not be hurt by the 
 flying brine and rain ; and mercifully the provisions 
 had been so placed that the breaker and the planks 
 between which the captain had placed them kept 
 them dry. 
 
 Hardy ran into the deck-house with the food, put 
 the glass in his pocket, and returned again with the 
 breaker, from which only two or three drinks had 
 been drawn. 
 
 " Thank God for this ! " said he, and he felt al- 
 most happy. 
 
 She had but little knowledge of the sea, and could 
 not interpret their condition to the full of its tragic 
 significance. Her heart was almost joyous because
 
 <$ They Meet $ 237 
 
 her sweetheart was at her side; though death was 
 hovering over that reeling fabric, its shadow was not 
 upon her spirit. She was rescued by the man she 
 loved from the horrors of loneliness on the wide sea, 
 from imaginations which had been excited in her by 
 those two mysterious strokes on the bell, and by her 
 horrible association with a madman. The brig reeled 
 and groaned to the sweep of the strong wind in the 
 canvas, which was like to stream from the yards in 
 hairs of cloth if the weather hardened. Again and 
 again Hardy left the girl's side to step on deck and 
 see how it was. The sky was a yellowish thickness 
 down to within a mile, out of which the flying 
 comber flashed, and the scene was a giddy panto- 
 mime of racing seas. This old bucket of brig was 
 taking it gallantly over her bows. Hardy went for- 
 ward to see if the only boat survived, and found her 
 sitting secure, seized to eye-bolts, and ready for 
 turning over and launching by tackles when the 
 weather permitted. 
 
 This comforted him, and he stepped into the little 
 caboose which some lee sea might hurl into the 
 scuppers at any moment. Here, to his great delight, 
 in a drawer he found some twenty or thirty ship's 
 biscuits, a bottle half-full of rum, and a large piece 
 of boiled pork on a tin dish ; he also found a black- 
 handled knife and fork on a shelf where stood a row 
 of china plates, one of which he took down. 
 
 With this booty, half pocketed and half in arms, 
 he returned to the deck-house, at whose door the 
 girl had stood waiting for him, and spite of the 
 flying brine, and the sickly reel of the half-foun- 
 dered brig, and the thunder of the wind aloft, and 
 their own dreadful situation, the vision of Bax's
 
 238 *> The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 farm rose before his mind's eye as he saw her 
 standing in that door in the old incomparable pos- 
 ture, the straw hat slightly cocked, the head a little 
 on one side, the left hand on the hip.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HARD WEATHER 
 
 HARDY carefully put away the good things he 
 had discovered, and then made a pork sandwich 
 with biscuits, and poured out a little rum which he 
 mingled with water, and they both made a meal. 
 
 Had she been alone she would have been dying of 
 fear; her lover was with her, and the sea had no 
 terrors. They talked as they ate. 
 
 " I foresaw heavy weather," said he, " but not the 
 loss of three men. We shall lose the ship, I fear; 
 there are no signs of the weather clearing. My 
 God! how this beast wallows! Why, you'd think 
 the sun had burst out ! " 
 
 For just then the air was whitened by a great 
 sheet of water. 
 
 "If the boat forward is carried away " He 
 checked himself, and then continued, " If we lose 
 the York we shall be picked up by something else. 
 These old north-countrymen are born to live." 
 
 " I am seeing life on the ocean," said Julia, smil- 
 ing at him. 
 
 " Why, it has come as thick as cockroaches," he 
 answered. " When you get home you shall write 
 your story, and the critics who take shipping on a 
 summer day from Putney to Henley will exclaim 
 as one man, * What a lie ! ' 
 
 239
 
 240 -$ The Mate of the Good Ship York <+ 
 
 " Who rang the bell ? " said Julia. "That question 
 will worry me whilst I live." 
 
 A sea struck the deck-house and blinded the 
 weather-windows. The sturdy structure quivered. 
 Hardy waited until the water had roared away over- 
 board, and then said: 
 
 " A bell will strike of itself in a rolling ship. I 
 have heard it. Or it was hit by a rope. Do you 
 believe in ghosts, Julia ? " 
 
 " I don't want to." 
 
 " The stroke was a sudden come-to in the reel of 
 the brig, or a rope did it," said Hardy, and she 
 tried to look as though she believed him. 
 
 Thus they talked whilst they sat in the deck- 
 house, for out of it they would have stood to be 
 washed overboard. The seas poured in gray-green 
 folds, and the foam rolled about the decks like the 
 cream of the breaker on shelving sand. She was a 
 stout bucket and strongly knit, and if all had been 
 well with her she would have sported with this 
 breeze. Her canvas was setting her to the eastwards 
 broadside on, and Hardy was glad of it, because 
 he guessed that the York would remain hove to, and 
 that her drift would not be much greater than the 
 sag of this half-drowned Geordie. 
 
 But though he looked abroad he never witnessed 
 any signs of improvement, or even promise of im- 
 provement, in the weather. It was not blowing 
 harder, however, which was a good thing, yet he 
 guessed that even if the weight of the wind re- 
 mained as it stood, then, should it blow all night, 
 a fair daybreak would not reveal the York, in which 
 case they were shipwrecked, and must either wait 
 to be taken off, or trust to God's mercy to keep
 
 Hard Weather $ 241 
 
 the boat in her place forward, that they might 
 launch her, and seek the succour that would not 
 come. The deck-house was often hit by the sea, but 
 the blows were rarely hard, and there was more 
 terror in the thunder of the stroke than in the possi- 
 bility of the structure going. 
 
 " I see a scuttle-butt out there," said he once 
 during the course of the morning. 
 
 "What's that?" she asked. 
 
 " A cask for holding fresh water for the men to 
 drink when on deck." 
 
 He stepped out, got under the rail, and crept to 
 the scuttle-butt with the foam about his feet. The 
 dipper hung by a sling; he dropped it through the 
 hole and brought it up full, and tasting it found it 
 fairly sweet, sweet enough for human necessity. He 
 added security to the cask by further lashings, and 
 covered the hole to protect the water from the flying 
 salt, then crept back through the foam to the side of 
 his sweetheart, first sending the sight of a falcon 
 piercing the rain-swept obscurity of the quarter in 
 which he guessed the York was lying hove to. But 
 all was the confusion of the headlong surge, raging 
 in frequent collision, the stormy stare of motionless 
 vapour, the wink of the sea-flash within the veil of 
 haze, and the universal groaning of old ocean when 
 that grim Boatswain, the Gale, whitens her back 
 with the thongs of his cat. 
 
 About midday they made another meal off pork 
 sandwiches, a godsend to the poor creatures. As 
 the time went by and the weather held as before, 
 the sense of shipwreck grew keener and keener in 
 Hardy. Not so with the girl; compared to what 
 might have been, this wallowing lump of brig, filled
 
 242 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 with timber, straining afloat, was paradise. But 
 Hardy did not much relish the notion of having 
 to take to that boat yonder. He could see that 
 with the yard-arm tackle which he would find she 
 was to be. easily got on to her keel, and hoisted 
 out of it by the little winch just before the main- 
 mast. 
 
 It might prove a job, for his shipmate was a girl ; 
 yet much harder jobs, girl or no girl, were to be got 
 through at sea. But until the weather calmed he 
 could not think of the boat, and if the weather did 
 calm and left the brig afloat, which was very 
 probable, and he managed to launch the boat, then, 
 bethinking him of Julia and himself in that small 
 squab fabric, his heart grew cold; because next to 
 the raft the open boat in mid-ocean is the greatest 
 desperation of the sailor. Nearly every chapter of 
 its romance is a tragedy. One dies and is buried, 
 one goes mad and springs overboard to drink of the 
 crystal fountain which is gushing in the sweet valley 
 just there. Another is hollow-eyed with famine, and 
 the gaunt cheeks work with the movement of the 
 jaw upon the piece of lead or the die of boot-leather, 
 which helps the saliva. Hardy knew it all, had 
 tasted some of it, and he could not think of Julia 
 and that little open boat and the flawless horizon, 
 more pitiless to the wrecked mariner than the cordon 
 of soldiers to the famished city, without feeling his 
 heart turn cold. 
 
 And now happened something which I fear the 
 reader will think more incredible than any other 
 incident in this volume. 
 
 After talking a little while together, these two 
 people rose from their chairs and knelt down in
 
 Hard Weather $ 243 
 
 prayer. Hardy believed in God and in the mercy 
 of God, and so did Julia, and he asked God in the 
 simple language of the plain English seaman's heart 
 to protect them and be with them, and he thanked 
 him for the mercy he had already vouchsafed; and 
 depend upon it no British sailor will consider this an 
 unnatural act on the part of Hardy, because al- 
 ways the proudest heart of oak in the hour of 
 triumph, the most depressed heart of oak in the hour 
 of trial, has been accustomed to look up to God 
 and thank or beseech him, for it is he who shares 
 the loneliness of the seaman on the wide, wide sea. 
 
 But let me assure the reader, also, that lovers 
 do not make love in shipwreck as they do under the 
 awning of the passenger liner, or in the bower of 
 roses ashore. Death is too near to allow passion 
 to expend itself in the form made familiar by the 
 novel. Their talk often went to Captain Layard 
 and the amazing cunning he had exhibited in invent- 
 ing the trap they had all fallen into. 
 
 " I believe," said Hardy, " only two are dead on 
 board. He had a book to give them the doses, and 
 his brain was clearly equal to understanding what it 
 said. But would the rum absorb all the poison? 
 Would not one man get more than his whack? A 
 few grains more would have done for us all. The 
 beggar took care not to drink himself, and none of 
 us thought of asking him to." 
 
 " How did you feel when you awoke? " she asked. 
 
 " Much as you did, I expect," he answered. 
 
 But talking was not very easy in this interior. 
 The water, sheeting against the deck-house, seethed 
 through speech and confounded it. There was the 
 thunder of the fallen sea forward, and the incom-
 
 244 *$* The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 municable maledictions of a sodden brig in the 
 trough rilled the gale with bewilderment as it flew. 
 Every fabric afloat has a voice of her own, and 
 like her sailors, she knows how to swear when 
 injured. 
 
 In the course of the afternoon Hardy stepped into 
 the after-berths, but found nothing to reward his 
 search. The papers of an old timberman are unin- 
 teresting; the letters of an auld wife of Sunderland 
 to her Geordie are sacred, and saving three or four 
 clay pipes and some tobacco, for which Hardy was 
 grateful, there was little to be seen worth mention- 
 ing. If this gale slackened into moderate weather 
 the girl should sleep in one of these berths ; if not, 
 near the door in the interior on the best sort of bed 
 he could contrive, because, as he meant to keep 
 watch and watch himself throughout the night, she 
 would be close by to rescue if some thunderous 
 surge should discharge the deck-house from its ob- 
 ligation of sticking. He had searched for candles 
 and had found none; a few boxes of matches were 
 in a sort of desk fixed to the bulkhead near the 
 bunk. So he came out of the captain's berth with 
 an old mattress, and then he brought some wearing 
 apparel, a heavy coat with big horn buttons, and a 
 pair of north-country breeches, which, if seized to a 
 stay for fresh air, might fill up and stand out like 
 the half of a Dutchman in a jump. 
 
 "What's all that for?" said Julia. 
 
 He explained, and she loved him, and thought 
 how good he was. 
 
 Yes, there are even worse conditions of life to 
 a girl than being shipwrecked with a sailor who 
 is a gentleman, and if the gentleman informs the
 
 Hard Weather $ 245 
 
 spirit of a sailor, its impulse is never greater than 
 when it responds to the appeal of a girl's helpless- 
 ness. 
 
 He cut up a little tobacco and smoked a pipe. 
 It seemed to bring him within hail of civilisation, 
 and Julia enjoyed the smell of the tobacco-smoke 
 immensely, and said it made her think of her father. 
 
 "How would he relish this picture?" said he, 
 referring to their situation. 
 
 " He would not like to be here, that is all he 
 would think. Will this brig keep together, do you 
 fancy?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, and I'll tell you what the gale doesn't 
 harden, which is a good sign. There was plenty of 
 weather in the moon last night, but in these parts 
 it is not often long-lived." 
 
 " Is not a tremendous sea running? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, from the Ramsgate or Margate Sands 
 point of view. You must go to about fifty-eight 
 south, right off the Horn, and get amongst the ice 
 to know what a tremendous sea is like. They come 
 like the cliffs of Dover at you, and the deck is up 
 and down, whilst the keel sweeps up the acclivity. 
 It is splendid and frightful. I was hove to for a 
 fortnight down there; we couldn't drive clear of 
 the ice, and we had about four hours of daylight 
 to see by. All the devils in hell raved in our rigging 
 as we sat upright a breathless instant on the amazing 
 peak we had climbed. No, Julia, this is not a tre- 
 mendous sea, and the brig will hang together and 
 outweather twenty such." 
 
 The vessel, however, was acting as though she 
 considered it a tremendous sea. Had she been dis- 
 masted or a steamer her behaviour could not have
 
 246 9 The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 been worse. Her sails a little steadied her, but her 
 rollings and motions and plungings and heavings 
 were sickening and insufferable, because she was 
 nearly full of water. She had no buoyancy and the 
 seas made a rock of her, and often sprang in green 
 sheets right over her a wet and yelling game of 
 leap-frog. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, when it was almost dark, 
 one of these seas filled the caboose and swept it to 
 leeward, where it lay stranded. The outcry of 
 hurled ironmongery, of crashing china, of skipping 
 knives and forks, pot, kettles, and pans, along with 
 the noise of the splintering caboose, was enough to 
 make Hardy think that the brig was scattering 
 under their feet. The girl grasped his hand when 
 that sea came and the galley went; she thought it 
 was all over with them. Hardy kept his thoughts 
 to himself : his real anxiety was in the boat, which 
 might be washed overboard or dashed into staves, 
 and in the deck-house, which was their only shelter. 
 
 Happily the old bucket had taken up her position 
 on her own account, and it was chiefly the bows and 
 amidships which got the drenches; it was seldom 
 that the deck-house was struck by a sea whose 
 weight was a menace. 
 
 " It is miserable to be without light at sea," said 
 Hardy, " on a black night in heavy weather. But 
 there is no lamp here and none in the berths, and 
 if there was where should I find oil ? We must face 
 it through, Julia, and you must sleep." 
 
 " I have had more sleep than I want," replied 
 Julia. " I shall not mind the darkness if the bell 
 isn't struck." 
 
 " It may be struck by a rope, by nothing else.
 
 Hard Weather $ 247 
 
 If a ghost, how could an essence grasp substance? 
 How could something you could walk through lift 
 a knife or try and pull down a lamp-post ? " 
 
 " I sha'n't like it if I hear it," she replied. " Oh, 
 how dreadful to think of him washing about under 
 us! Wretched man! You should have seen the 
 unearthly expression of his face whilst he sat staring 
 forward, waiting for the little drummer to appear." 
 
 " The great poet is true," said Hardy, who had 
 fingered a few volumes in his day, albeit he was 
 a sailor in the Merchant Service of England. 
 
 " For shapes which come not at an earthly call 
 Will not depart when mortal voices bid ; 
 Lords of the visionary eye whose lid, 
 Once raised, remains aghast and will not fall.' " 
 
 " Those words are true of that poor dead man," 
 said Julia. " Aghast ! you should have seen him 
 when he turned up his eyes to God and prayed." 
 
 The afternoon closed into early evening, and it 
 was as black as a wolf's throat at the hour of sun- 
 down. Through the windows you could see the 
 light of the foam, sudden pallid glares, rushes of 
 dim phosphoric gleams which merely made the dark- 
 ness visible. The brig was a drunken vision, and 
 the yells of her rigging might be likened to the 
 screams of a tipsy slut who is being thrashed by her 
 man in a thunder-storm. 
 
 The two sweethearts ate some biscuit, and Julia 
 held a lighted match whilst Hardy mixed some rum 
 and water for them both. They drank out of the 
 same glass, and neither of them apologised. Then 
 Hardy felt and wound up his watch, for he wanted
 
 248 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <* 
 
 time, though he couldn't see it then except by strik- 
 ing a match. They sat together and I dare say he 
 put his arm round her waist, and possibly she sup- 
 ported her head upon his shoulder after removing 
 her hat. 
 
 It was a ticklish sitting-ground and they some- 
 times slided, which was a very good reason why 
 Hardy should hold her by the waist, and why Julia 
 should cling lovingly with her head. And in this 
 posture they entered the night and passed perhaps a 
 couple of hours, so that when Hardy struck a match 
 he found the time nine. 
 
 He made for the mattress, felt and found it, and 
 the north-country apparel which was to form the 
 bedclothes. He then lurched back to Julia, who did 
 not want to lie down, but he was her lord in resolu- 
 tion and her love consented. 
 
 Always groping, for despite the sea-flash it was 
 inside here of a midnight blackness, he pillowed her 
 head with a garment of north-country measurement, 
 and then carefully covering her to the neck with the 
 skipper's coat, he pressed his lips to the brow of the 
 girl who was to be his wife, and who was therefore 
 sacred to him, and bade her sleep and leave him to 
 watch and nod and watch. 
 
 And now all that followed was sickening, sloppy, 
 howling, reeling, foaming hours of darkness, with 
 nothing in them but the drunken vision of brig, and 
 the noisy rage of her straining heart. But at half- 
 past three o'clock by Hardy's watch the weather was 
 undoubtedly moderating; by five it was blowing a 
 little fresh; by six it was daylight and the wind 
 northeast, a pleasant breeze, and the green sea rolled 
 jn foamless swells, cutting the wake of the sun.
 
 Hard Weather ^ 249 
 
 which shone brightly out of every blue lagoon 'twixt 
 the clouds. 
 
 The girl was up and sitting at the table. She had 
 slept a little, but that little was sound and good. 
 Hardy brought the telescope out of the berth : it was 
 a poor glass, but you could see more through it than 
 with the naked eye. The brig was rolling ponder- 
 ously on the swell, whose heave was sometimes too 
 sudden for her, and she would stagger with a scream 
 of white water from her side. Her canvas was 
 blowing out, and the sodden old cask may have had 
 some way on her. 
 
 Hardy stepped out and looked for the York. Had 
 he looked for St. Paul's Cathedral he could not have 
 seen less of it. The ship was not in sight and he 
 fetched a deep breath, for either her crew had aban- 
 doned him and Julia to what sailors would know 
 might prove a terrible death, or the ship's drift had 
 been faster than he had allowed for. 
 
 " She's not in sight," he shouted to Julia, then 
 sprang into the main-shrouds, put his telescope over 
 the rim of the top, and got into the top. 
 
 She was not in sight from the top and he crawled 
 as high as the cross-trees, and she was not in sight 
 from that elevation. Nothing was in sight but the 
 horizon, which wound eel-like to the flashing clasp 
 of the sun upon it. 
 
 He regained the deck and put the telescope down 
 and sat beside Julia. 
 
 " What shall we do ? " she said, when he had given 
 her the news. 
 
 " We will breakfast," he answered. 
 
 And forthwith he made biscuit sandwiches of the 
 pork, of which there still remained a good lump, a
 
 250 + The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 godsend. There was nothing much to elate him in 
 the sight of the boat still safely lashed to the deck; 
 he feared the open boat in mid-ocean with few pro- 
 visions, little water, and an everlasting menace of 
 weather, for blow it will if it does not blow now, and 
 what sort of a time would they have had afloat in 
 that boat last night ? 
 
 Julia dredged her lover's face with her eyes but 
 could not make out what was passing in his mind, 
 because he himself did not know what was passing 
 there. 
 
 " We must husband our stores," said he, " and 
 wait for something to sight us." 
 
 Saying which he rose and stepped up a little 
 ladder on to the top of the deck-house, directed by 
 sailorly instincts to what he wanted, and there it was 
 securely lashed to the iron stanchions of the low rail 
 a flag-locker. He opened it and took out the Red 
 Ensign and carried it right aft, and bent it union 
 down to the peak signal-halliards and hoisted it 
 half-mast high, a signal of deep distress and death. 
 Its rippling noise was pleasant, but the look of it 
 was ghastly with its dumb appeal to a pitiless sea. 
 
 Julia stood beside him and sank her clear gaze far 
 into the recesses of the ocean, and saw the sea line 
 working and nothing more. 
 
 " Let's go and see if the galley has betrayed any 
 secrets of food," said he. 
 
 The sluggish roll of the brig was no hindrance to 
 feet accustomed to the bounding deck. They found 
 the galley murdered ; it was split and shivered, but 
 the coppers to the stroke of the sea that slung them 
 had spewed out a big lump of beef and a bolster 
 of duff the sailors' pudding composed of dark
 
 Hard Weather $ 251 
 
 flour and slush with here and there a currant, but 
 not always. Hardy pounced upon the food as the 
 adjutant lights upon the floating Hindoo. 
 
 " They left their dinner behind them," he said. 
 " Good God ! what a noble haul. Here is enough 
 for a week with care." 
 
 "Is it cooked?" 
 
 He answered this question by pulling out his knife 
 and cutting off a piece of the meat. Another half- 
 hour would have cooked it, but it was eatable to 
 human necessity. 
 
 He stowed this provender away in the deck-house 
 and filled the breaker from the scuttle-butt, then 
 went with Julia to look at the bell. 
 
 " You did not hear it last night," he said. 
 
 " No," she answered. 
 
 " It shall not trouble you again," said he, and he 
 unhooked it, and threw it down. 
 
 " But who struck it? " she asked. 
 
 " He'll not strike it again," he answered. 
 
 He peeped through the forescuttle and saw 
 nothing but the gleam of black water washing 
 below. 
 
 " The rats don't like this sort of thing," said he. 
 " Can you pull upon a rope, Julia? " 
 
 " I am as strong as you," she answered. 
 
 He smiled with a glance at her beautiful figure, 
 and said : 
 
 " Turn to, then, and lend me a hand to shorten 
 sail." 
 
 Between them they manned the necessary bunt- 
 lines and clewlines, and Julia dragged as handsomely 
 as her sweetheart. 
 
 " Give us a song, George, for time," she said, and
 
 252 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 he started " Chillyman," which sea-air Julia had 
 caught from hearing it on board the Glamis Castle, 
 and her voice threaded his like the notes of a flute. 
 
 " Randy dandy, heigh-ho ! 
 Chillyman ! 
 
 Pull for a shilling, heigh-ho ! 
 Chillyman ! " x 
 
 In fact, you may put any words you like to these 
 sea-tunes, and the sailors will pull the better if you 
 damn the eyes of the quarter-deck in rhyme. 
 
 Hardy next thoroughly overhauled the brig, so 
 far as perception of her condition was possible. He 
 could not see why she should not hold together 
 through twenty such gales as roared over her last 
 night. He stood with Julia looking at their only 
 boat, beside which there lay, as though placed by 
 some angel of mercy, a watch-tackle. The sight of 
 that watch-tackle sank him into contemplation, and 
 Julia gazed at him whilst he thought. How weary 
 were the motions of the brig upon that sulky sweep 
 of swell ! Yet the fine figure of the girl swayed to it 
 with the graceful ease of a figurehead curtseying at 
 the bow. She was shipwrecked, she was in a dread- 
 ful situation of peril, this time to-morrow she might 
 be floating in the sea a corpse, and yet never on 
 board the Indiaman, on board the York, or at 
 home had she felt happier. She was loving him 
 passionately and he was always with her, and she 
 could not but be happy. 
 
 Presently he said: 
 
 " I will tell you how it can be done when it needs 
 
 1 Sailors' word for " cheerly men."
 
 Hard Weather $ 253 
 
 to be done. She is a small boat and not heavy, and 
 you and I will cant her on to her bilge with hand- 
 spikes, then I'll hook that watch-tackle to a strop 
 round the foremost thwart and take the hauling part 
 to the winch, and rouse her along to abreast of the 
 gangway. That gangway there unships, and we sit 
 low upon the sea, and we'll tumble the boat through 
 the gangway overboard, smack-fashion. If she 
 proves too heavy we'll rig out a spar " here he 
 cast his eyes round " with the watch-tackle made 
 fast to her, and the winch will do the rest. Yes, 
 that is my scheme if it should come to it. Mean- 
 while let us be patient and keep a lookout for ships." 
 But the imprisonment on board this abandoned 
 hull of Mr. George Hardy and Miss Julia Armstrong 
 was to continue until the dawn of three days, count- 
 ing from Hardy's time of finding the girl. All this 
 while it was very fine weather, and of a night they 
 would sit on top of the deck-house whilst Hardy 
 smoked and Julia prattled. They watched the sea 
 lights which glittered upon the black breast of the 
 ocean ; they watched the flight of the meteor. They 
 talked of the stars, which nowhere wheel in so much 
 splendour as over the sea, and of the great Spirit 
 who controls their flight. Morally they were the 
 least shipwrecked of people. They were happy in 
 each other's company ; if either one had been alone 
 it might have proved madness to him or to her, but 
 the voice of love, the presence of love even in the 
 gloom of calamity, made a light of their own which 
 was as inspiriting as the hope that springs eternal. 
 It was not strange that no ships ever showed a white 
 rag of canvas, a coil of sooty smoke upon the hori- 
 zon in any point of the compass, because the brig
 
 254 + The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 sat low and her " dip " would be small, and a ship 
 may be within the compass of a boat-race and yet 
 not be seen. Hardy often went aloft and searched 
 the waters; he did not lose heart, because he felt 
 sure that something must heave in sight sooner or 
 later, and meanwhile with great care the food they 
 had would last them a week or perhaps longer, and 
 there was fresh water for a fortnight or perhaps 
 longer; for I am telling you what I have heard, 
 and like the tramp in Dickens's sketch, my squire 
 " would not tell a lie for no man." 
 
 Hardy was also sure that the brig would hold 
 together, and being of the careless nature of the 
 sailor, though provident, willing, and sober, he 
 would not allow his spirits to be depressed, and he 
 had eyes enough in his head to see that Julia re- 
 garded their perilous condition as something in the 
 way of an outing to be enjoyed. She was a fine 
 girl and we are never weary of admiring her. I 
 have told you that she was not pretty, but her face, 
 what with the cock of her head, the hand on the 
 hip, the speaking appeal of her eyes, carried such 
 a character of romance that it not only interested 
 you at once, when she looked at you full and fas- 
 tened her eyes upon yours with her slight smile, it 
 made you even think her pretty, and certainly the 
 truest beauty of a woman's face comes into it from 
 her mind. 
 
 Then broke the dawn of the third day, and 
 Hardy, who had been sleeping since three, awoke 
 and stepped out of the deck-house, and with the 
 brig's telescope in hand climbed the few steps and 
 searched the sea. It was again a fine morning; 
 the heavens were lofty with their freckling of sta-
 
 Hard Weather $ 255 
 
 tionary small cloud; the wind was a light breeze 
 a little to the north of east; and the sea, which 
 streamed in thin lifts, sparkled to the caress of a 
 hand that could make it roar when it thought fit. 
 Suddenly into the lenses of the glass there 
 entered a full-rigged ship, showing nothing but 
 three single-reefed topsails and a foresail and the 
 trembling line of her hull a little above the hori- 
 zon. " A full-rigged ship under that sail in this 
 weather ! " thought Hardy. " By heaven, it must 
 be the York, and if so she is abandoned ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ABOARD AGAIN 
 
 THE sun was floating over the horizon, and the 
 pink of his glory was melting into the flash of 
 silver, as the wake of the York streamed in a short 
 white glearri upon the sea. The light breeze was 
 still to the north of east, and thither it had hung 
 for hours past. Hardy and Julia stood at the brig's 
 rail watching the ship that was distinct and lifting 
 in the ocean's recess. 
 
 "Is it possible that she's the York?" said Julia. 
 
 He answered with the telescope at his eye : 
 
 " Don't I know her ! She's under single reefs. 
 Her spanker is furled, and her head sails keep her 
 off, as though she were under control. Perhaps she 
 is, but I don't think so. She would head directly 
 for us if she had anything alive on board, because 
 I can hold the line of her rail in this glass, and if 
 I can see her, she can see me." 
 
 "What will you do?" 
 
 " I will wait a little longer and see if she is 
 manned. If her crew have deserted her, I will 
 launch that boat, and board her before she drifts 
 out of sight." 
 
 " Will you be able to catch her ? " 
 
 " Catch her ! Can ypu row ? " 
 256
 
 $ Aboard Again 9 257 
 
 " Try me," she answered, with the proud look a 
 girl will put on when she feels she is of importance. 
 
 " She is drifting at about two, and we will make 
 that boat buzz three, and perhaps more. But if she 
 is manned, she will come alongside, and our get- 
 ting aboard will be easy. But she is not manned, 
 I am sure," said Hardy. " Pipe to breakfast, Julia." 
 
 This time they made beef sandwiches of biscuit, 
 and they were swallowed without the accompanying 
 forecastle growl. Indeed, considering it was meant 
 for sailors' use, the beef was not very bad, and as 
 it was pickled to the heart, a little cooking had gone 
 a long way to make it almost food for the human 
 stomach. The bottle of rum was half full and they 
 drank a little of the liquor, largely diluted with 
 water. To refresh himself Hardy went to the head, 
 where he knew he would find a pump which stood 
 clear of the deck load. He picked up a bucket, 
 carried it to the pump and filled it with sparkling 
 brine, and purified his face with the cold salt-sweet- 
 ness of the water and wrung his hands in it, and 
 felt that his beard was growing, for shipwreck does 
 not stop the growth of hair, as we see when a 
 haggard crew steps ashore out of a life-boat. 
 
 And all the time he kept his eyes fastened on the 
 York, as he knew her to be. When he went aft he 
 found Julia sitting on a chair on top of the deck- 
 house. He mounted the steps and sat beside her 
 with the telescope, for he had made up his mind to 
 wait a little before launching the boat. 
 
 "What makes you know that she's the York?" 
 she asked. 
 
 ' Twenty points, and you must have served two 
 years before the mast to understand them if I
 
 258 $> The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 explained. She is the York, my love, and with 
 God's eye watching us we shall be aboard her and 
 safe before sunset." 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried Julia, and she picked up his 
 hand and kissed it. 
 
 It was a thing to be settled in about an hour, and 
 in that hour Hardy discovered that she was not 
 under control by her coming to windward and her 
 falling off; and when she came to windward she 
 hung so long that Hardy thought it time to turn to. 
 And now began a process of which the description 
 shall not weary you. 
 
 First he unshipped the gangway and fetched some 
 capstan bars for rollers; he then passed his knife 
 through the boat's lashings, took the watch-tackle 
 and secured it to a fore-shroud abreast of the boat, 
 overhauled the tackle to hook the block on the boat's 
 gunwale, then he and Julia clapped on to the hauling 
 part of the tackle and easily roused the little wagon 
 on to her bilge. She was not very much heavier 
 than a smack's boat; her oars were lashed under 
 the thwarts, and her rudder had been on a thwart 
 and now lay in her. They tried to run her along 
 the deck, but though they started her the toil must 
 prove too great for the girl who would be plying an 
 oar shortly. So he carried the block of the watch- 
 tackle as far forward as its length would allow him 
 and made a strop with a piece of gear round the 
 thwart, to which he hooked the other block, bent a 
 line on to the hauling part and carried it to the 
 winch, giving Julia the job of hauling the slack in 
 as he wound. 
 
 He wound lustily, for he was fighting for life and 
 time and he was a very strong man, and had entirely
 
 $ Aboard Again $ 259 
 
 rid himself of all the evil effects of the drug, as the 
 girl had. So they brought the boat abreast of the 
 gangway; he had muscle enough to lift her bow 
 whilst Julia placed a skid, in the shape of a capstan 
 bar, tinder her forefoot ; he made other skids of the 
 capstan bars, and laying hold of her gunwales on 
 either side, the two brave hearts, with the boat's nose 
 pointing to the sea, ran the fabric, secured by a 
 painter hitched to a main shroud, clean through the 
 gangway, and she fell with a squash, and floated like 
 an empty bottle with never a drop of water in her. 
 
 This done, Hardy, who was making haste, for the 
 York was keeping a rap-full and forging into the 
 stream of sunshine, though always coming for the 
 brig, seized a line, and watching his chance sprang 
 into the boat, secured the line to her after-thwart, 
 leapt aboard, and brought the boat broadside to the 
 gangway. 
 
 The roll of the brig was very sullen and slow, and 
 the swell of the sea sometimes hove the boat flush 
 with the brig's waterway. 
 
 " You must jump into her, Julia," said Hardy, 
 " and for God's sake don't go overboard. To pro- 
 vide against that, see here." 
 
 He took an end of main-royal-halliards and 
 hitched it round her waist, and overhauled some 
 slack which he grasped. 
 
 " Pull up your clothes," said he, " and free your 
 legs and aim for the bottom of the boat, and jump 
 when I sing out." 
 
 The little squab structure came floating up, and 
 Hardy brought her in by a tug of the after-rope as 
 she was coming. 
 
 " Jump ! " he shouted.
 
 260 p The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 And that girl, whose heart was of British oak, 
 holding her clothes to her knees, sprang, and in a 
 few breaths was sitting on a thwart and liberating 
 herself from the rope, whilst she smiled up at her 
 lover. 
 
 " Now, Julia," said he, " I am going to send you 
 down the provisions and water. Stand by to receive 
 them, but keep seated." 
 
 He handed the telescope to her, then fetched the 
 breaker, which she received as it lay in that instant 
 of heaving swell on the rim of the gunwale, and she 
 rolled it to the thwart, then to the stern-sheets, 
 taking the glass from Hardy at the next heave. He 
 made one parcel of the provisions and hove them 
 into the boat, then casting the painter adrift he 
 jumped into the boat, let go the remaining line that 
 held her, cut loose the oars, shipped the thole-pins, 
 leaving the rudder unshipped, and made Julia the 
 bow oar. 
 
 Could she row? Very well indeed; but the oars 
 were a little heavy and she did not attempt to 
 feather ; in fact, she rowed like a smacksman, lifting 
 the blade with its streaming glory of water on high, 
 but the dip and thrust of it was that of a stout 
 schoolboy, and between them they made the boat 
 buzz, Hardy, with larger power of oar, keeping her 
 straight for the York. 
 
 " Don't tire yourself," said he ; " rest when you 
 like. She'll not outrun us." 
 
 " What a wonderful thing to happen ! " said Julia, 
 whose face was whitening with the ardour of her 
 toil. 
 
 She looked at nothing but her oar, and was cer- 
 tainly not going to be tired this side the York.
 
 f Aboard Again <$ 261 
 
 " At sea, where all is wonderful, nothing is won- 
 derful," said Hardy. " Any sailor would easily see 
 how this has come about. But don't waste your 
 breath in talking : let us row." 
 
 It was a strange and curious picture : a man and 
 a girl in a little open boat, pulling away for a ship 
 that was rounding into the wind as though she knew 
 they were approaching, whilst astern receded the 
 figure of the brig, a melancholy sight, despite the 
 gun-flashes of sunshine which burst from her side 
 at every roll ; her hanging canvas flapped a mourn- 
 ful farewell to the rowers, who took no heed of the 
 poor thing's tender and, for a north-countryman, 
 graceful salutation of good-bye. But, then, she had 
 been a stage of maniacal horrors, of death, of the 
 lonely little ghost that struck the bell, of ship- 
 wreck with its stalking shadows of famine, thirst, 
 and the calenture that invites you to die. 
 
 Hardy frequently turned to look at the York so as 
 to keep a true course, and this time saw that she was 
 involved in the wind, and was waiting for him to 
 come aboard to tell her what to do. They had four 
 miles to measure, and as they pulled with the spirit 
 of shipwreck in their pulse they were within hail of 
 her in an hour. 
 
 No man showed himself; she was abandoned. 
 But suddenly on the forecastle rail appeared the fore- 
 paws and magnificent head of a great Newfoundland 
 dog. He barked deep and long. 
 
 " Poor Sailor," said Hardy ; " I had forgotten 
 him." 
 
 "How inhuman to leave him," said Julia, panting. 
 
 " A few more strokes, sweetheart," shouted 
 Hardy, " and we are free. What a noble girl
 
 262 f> The Mate of the Good Ship York *$ 
 
 you are! What a good wife you will make a 
 sailor!" 
 
 " I will make you a good wife, never fear," she 
 answered, joyous in despite distress of breath. 
 
 The ship's head was slowly paying off as the 
 boat's stern struck the side. Hardy secured the 
 painter and jumped into the mizzen-chains. 
 
 " Hold out your hands," he exclaimed, " and 
 jump when the boat lifts," and to the lift and to his 
 fearless, muscular haul she sprang, and was along- 
 side of him. 
 
 He grasped her by the arm, passed her round the 
 rigging, and helped her over the bulwark rail. The 
 dog was barking in fury of joy. When they gained 
 the deck he sprang upon the girl in love and delight 
 and nearly knocked her down. 
 
 " Get him some water and biscuit whilst I look 
 about me," said Hardy. 
 
 He had long ago known by the help of the 
 telescope that the ship was abandoned because two 
 pairs of davits were empty, and with the perception 
 of a sailor he understood that the crew had trans- 
 ferred themselves to another ship in one boat, 
 whereas if they had abandoned the ship on their own 
 account, which was improbable, they would have 
 gone away in three companies, and the davits would 
 have been like gibbets, since the after-boat had been 
 used by the captain when he stole the girl. 
 
 The wheel was not lashed, and was constantly 
 playing in swift revolution to starboard and port 
 and back again. Hardy judged that the dog had 
 been left by the men because the faithful creature 
 would not quit the ship which had been his master's 
 home, and the men, who would have had very little
 
 f Aboard Again $ 263 
 
 time, did not choose that their flesh should be torn 
 by using violence. Yet it was cruel of them to leave 
 him, for they would know that the noble creature 
 would soon need water and food, and perish as 
 lamentably as a famine-stricken sailor on a raft. 
 
 He saw that the figures of Mr. Candy and the 
 man at the wheel, which had been concealed by a 
 tarpaulin, were gone; they had of course been 
 buried. Julia looked after the dog, that was lapping 
 water thankfully as she filled a bowl from the galley 
 with fresh water out of the scuttle-butt. Hardy 
 slowly went forward, carefully gazing about him. 
 
 No man lay dead on the deck; he dropped into 
 the forecastle and found it empty of human life, so 
 that the captain's birthday had killed but two men, 
 which was surely wonderful, for he had commanded 
 a power that could have murdered a thousand. 
 
 Why was not this fine ship taken possession of by 
 the people who had received her crew? I will tell 
 you at once, for the story came out on the men's 
 arrival. Her drift had been swifter, with the helping 
 hand of the surge, than Hardy could have imagined 
 or allowed for, and in the morning of the gale she 
 was close aboard a French brig that was hove to 
 sitting deep in the sea. They hailed her and were 
 answered. They stated they were without a navi- 
 gator and they didn't know what to do. The French 
 captain spoke English, and said he would receive 
 them if they came aboard in their r own boat and 
 land them at Marseilles, the port he was bound to. 
 The weather was then moderating, and after calling 
 a council the boatswain, giving the mate and the 
 girl up as lost, swiftly decided, with the heedlessness 
 of seamen, to abandon the York, and with great
 
 264 <9* The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 difficulty the sailors gained the deck of the brig, 
 leaving their clothes behind them. Very shortly 
 afterward the French captain braced his yards round 
 and shaped a course for Marseilles, leaving nothing 
 alive on board the York but the dog. 
 
 This is the true story of the ship's adventure, and 
 whoever questions it is no sailor. 
 
 Hardy left the forecastle and stood awhile on deck 
 near the hatch, gazing aloft. In this moment he was 
 fired by a resolution which would have inspired no 
 other heart than that of a true British sailor. He 
 determined that he and the girl and the dog should 
 save this fine ship without help, and carry her to 
 England, and entitle them to a reward which should 
 prove a living to them whilst they endured. His 
 face, which was as manly as Tom Bowline's, was 
 irradiated by the glory of this resolution as he gazed 
 aloft, smiling. It was possible and being possible 
 it was to be done. But it needed doing by two hearts 
 of oak and the dog as a lookout, and great anxiety 
 would accompany the discharge of this splendid 
 duty, much sleeplessness and ceaseless urging of the 
 spirit. But the eye of God would dwell lovingly 
 upon their toil and peril ; he felt that and raised his 
 cap to the thought, and he said to himself, in the 
 language of Nelson, " When we cannot do all we 
 wish, we must do as well as we can! " 
 
 He walked aft and joined the girl. 
 
 " Julia," he said, " I have formed the resolution 
 of my life, and if I can fulfil it we shall be rich, 
 though that will not make us happy." 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked, looking a little fright- 
 ened, with her head slightly drooped to the shoulder, 
 and her left hand, white as foam, reposing like a
 
 f> Aboard Again <+ 265 
 
 coronet upon the Newfoundland's head. Indeed, 
 what with the mad captain, drugs, and ghosts she 
 was in such a condition of mind that she was easily 
 alarmed by any divergence from the commonplace. 
 
 " This is a valuable ship," he answered. " I 
 know her cargo, for I helped to stow it. She has a 
 beautiful hull, and is perfectly sound aloft. In addi- 
 tion to her cargo she carries a little treasure of 
 jewelry consigned to Melbourne Colonials love 
 jewelry. I dare say it is worth ten thousand 
 pounds. It is in a safe in the captain's cabin. I 
 should say that the value of this ship and cargo 
 is between sixty thousand and seventy thousand 
 pounds, perhaps more. Julia, you and I and the 
 dog will carry her home. We shall be richly re- 
 warded by the owners and the underwriters in 
 fact, it is a matter of salvage to be assessed if my 
 terms are disputed." 
 
 She grasped him by both hands, her eyes were on 
 fire, her cheeks were burning, the spirit of delight 
 and resolution filled her romantic face with the light 
 of conquest and realisation. 
 
 " Is it to be done? " she said. 
 
 " It is done," he answered. " We don't talk of 
 failure. But let us make ourselves comfortable 
 whilst the weather is fine." 
 
 " How heavenly ! " she sighed. " You will teach 
 me to steer, George." 
 
 " I will teach you everything tHat is proper for 
 a young woman to know," he answered. 
 
 He took her to his heart and pressed his lips to 
 hers, which was like signing articles: that lip 
 pressure was the seal of their agreement to serve 
 each other loyally, and to eat the food on board 
 without growling.
 
 266 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York <*> 
 
 The first thing they did was to go below. Here 
 was the cabin just as they had left it; there was 
 the chair in which Captain Layard had sat and 
 talked metaphysics, yonder was the locker on which 
 the drugged girl had slept, and they stood on the 
 deck where Hardy had lifted his cannon-ball of a 
 head, whilst his bewildered soul groped slowly into 
 his brains. They went into the captain's cabin and 
 saw the drum and the drumsticks and the little 
 bedstead. 
 
 " What a fantasy of the sea ! " said Hardy. " It 
 is beyond me. It is like a vision, sensible to percep- 
 tion and unreal to it. Will our story be credited ? " 
 
 " Who cares? " answered the girl. " Is that the 
 safe, George? " 
 
 " Yes, and I'll look for the key by and by. The 
 jewelry's there." 
 
 The safe was small and secured on a massive 
 timber shelf, but though small it was large enough 
 to contain the Koh-i-noor, and to hold buried the 
 wealth and jewels of a rajah. 
 
 Hardy cast a keen look around him, saw that the 
 table held the necessary machinery of navigation, 
 carefully wound up the chronometers, which had not 
 stopped, then went into his own cabin whilst the 
 girl entered hers. When they presently met they 
 sought for food and found plenty in the pantry; 
 here were ham and tongue, palatable stuff in tins, 
 white biscuits, and pots of jam. 
 
 They sat down and ate, and the Newfoundland sat 
 beside them, triumphant in this familiar company of 
 man and woman, and Julia, who loved him, saw that 
 he made a good breakfast. 
 
 " How are we to manage it, George? " she asked.
 
 $ Aboard Again $ 267 
 
 " It will require some scheming," he answered, 
 " but we must not accept help, because if we do 
 our salvage share will shrink out of all proportion 
 to our merits. Can you steer in the least? " 
 
 " I can steer a boat, but not a ship," Julia 
 answered. 
 
 " I will teach you; you will get the art in a very 
 few lessons." 
 
 " One lesson will do if I have the strength." 
 
 " Oh," he answered, with a loving glance at her, 
 " you are one of those English girls whose shapes 
 of beauty are wire-rigged. Wire is stronger than 
 hemp, though it looks delicate. What your strength 
 can't do I have arms for." 
 
 " So you have," she replied ; " you are the manli- 
 est sailor that ever was." 
 
 " Let us change the subject," he replied, with 
 a little colour of pleasure in his face, for a com- 
 pliment from your sweetheart is next to a kiss. 
 " We are fortunate in finding the ship under very 
 easy sail. We'll get some more fore-and-aft canvas 
 upon her, for it is easily hauled down, but I shall 
 leave the square canvas that is furled to rest as it 
 is. I'll bring her to her course at noon when I 
 find out where we are. You will light the galley 
 fire, as we shall want a hot drink. But we need little 
 cooking, for if we boil a good lump of beef, that, 
 with the food in the pantry, will last you and me 
 and the dog five hundred miles of .sea." 
 
 " Are we near England ? " 
 
 " Not very, I think, but I shall know presently 
 exactly how near we are." 
 
 " How shall we get rest, George ? We must sleep 
 or die, or worse, go mad."
 
 268 -$ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 "Aye," he answered, thoughtfully; "you see 
 things rightly, but we must not make sleep a diffi- 
 culty." 
 
 " The rest seems quite easy," she said, joyously ; 
 " and I shall Ifcarn to steer in one lesson." 
 
 They left the table and went on deck, followed by 
 the dog, who growled softly and often in a sort of 
 undertalk with himself. There is a great nature 
 in a Newfoundland, and you often wonder whilst 
 you look into his soft, affectionate eyes what his 
 thoughts are. 
 
 It was a glowing scene of forenoon ocean. The 
 ripple ran with the laughter of the summer in its 
 voice. The endless procession of humps of swell, 
 as though old ocean was perpetually shrugging his 
 shoulders over spiteful memories, brought the flam- 
 ing banners of the sun out of the east, and swept 
 them westwards in knightly array of fiery plume and 
 foam-crested summit. Four miles off wallowed the 
 poor little brig, tearfully flapping her pocket-hand- 
 kerchief to the naked horizon, and by mute and 
 pathetic gesture coaxing nothing into being to help 
 her. Many soft, white clouds floated westwards, 
 and Hardy noticed that the glass was high and those 
 clouds meant nothing but vapour. 
 
 What a noble ship to be in charge of, to virtually 
 be the owner of, to rescue from the toils of the sea, 
 to witness in security in some harbour of England, 
 flying high the commercial flag of the Empire in 
 token of British supremacy, even in the hour of 
 peril, when the Foreigner would consider all was 
 lost! 
 
 " It is not yet twelve o'clock," said Hardy, " and 
 we will light the galley fire."
 
 $ Aboard Again $ 269 
 
 They walked forward and entered the sea kitchen. 
 Plenty of chopped wood lay stacked. The ship's 
 cook had been a man of foresight, and anticipated 
 labour by putting an axe into the ordinary seaman's 
 hand; also near the wood stood two buckets of 
 coal and a little heap on the deck. There was plenty 
 of coal in the fore-peak for a voyage to Australia. 
 Hardy had matches, which are curiosities at sea 
 in a forecastle, for you light your pipe at the galley 
 fire with rope yarns or shavings, and the slush lamp 
 is kindled by the binnacle or side-light. But aft 
 there are usually matches, because the cabin is the 
 home of elegance, refinement, and luxury, and the 
 captain must have matches, for he cannot light his 
 cigar at the sailors' fire. Hardy first explored the 
 coppers ; they were empty. He filled them from the 
 scuttle-butt; why should he use salt water when 
 there was plenty of fresh at hand? Fresh water 
 would cleanse the mahogany beef of something of 
 its brine, and perhaps soften it into complacent 
 recognition of human digestion. 
 
 Then the fire was lighted; he could not find the 
 key of the harness cask, so he fetched a weapon 
 from the carpenter's chest, and the staples yielded 
 to his blow with the shriek of lacerated wood. There 
 was plenty of beef and pork in the cask, buried in 
 the horrible crystal in which lurks the demon of 
 scurvy ; he turned the pieces over, and selecting the 
 fattest and least ill-looking lump, dropped it into 
 the copper for boiling when the water should begin. 
 
 This work, easily recited, cost time. Before he 
 touched a brace or put the ship to her course he 
 must find out where she was. The last entries in 
 the log-book were in his handwriting, and they
 
 ijo <9> The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 related the story of the captain's birthday, how he 
 kept it, and his disappearance with a young lady 
 passenger named Julia Armstrong. The latitude 
 was then N. and the longitude W. But the 
 drifting ship had measured miles, and her cap- 
 tain must know where he was. This he would find 
 out in about an hour. 
 
 The sow under the long-boat was dead. To get 
 rid of it before the carcass stank he stropped it and 
 clapped the watch-tackle on it, and together they 
 hauled the little mountain of what might have 
 proved tooth-alluring crackling and white fresh fat, 
 always sweet at sea, through the open gangway 
 overboard. It fell without a prayer, and the fish that 
 nosed it that day dined well. 
 
 Some of the poultry in the hen-coops were dead ; 
 a few lived, and craved with fluttering red pennons 
 for drink and grain. Of course Hardy knew " the 
 ropes " of this ship and could lay his hand on any- 
 thing he wanted. He filled the little troughs with 
 fresh water, and no one but a beholder could have 
 figured the profound gratitude with which the vary- 
 ing row of bills was lifted to heaven. He helped 
 them to grain, and they filled their crops with all 
 ardency of pecking. He cleared the hen-coop of 
 its plumed corpses, and so they sweetened the ship 
 forthwith. 
 
 It was about time that Hardy fetched his sextant : 
 the soaring sun excited his impatience; he desired 
 that the ship should be sending his sweetheart and 
 himself home, and the ceaseless waving of those 
 pocket-handkerchiefs just over the horizon teased 
 him with their impertinence, and as a token of 
 distress when the morning was fair and their hearts
 
 t Aboard Again f 271 
 
 high and hopeful. His reckoning found the ship's 
 position within a mile or two of her place when he 
 had left her to succour his darling. 
 
 " I have it now," said he, " and we must trim sail 
 for home." 
 
 " Oh, how beautiful ! " cried Julia, and the dog 
 barked in recognition of the girl's triumphant note. 
 
 The ship was on the port tack and must be wore 
 to the north. Hardy put the helm hard up and 
 secured it, then let go the fore, main, and mizzen- 
 braces, and the yards, as the ship obeyed her rudder, 
 swung a little of themselves. With the starboard- 
 braces let go Hardy and Julia did not find it difficult 
 to swing the yards. The wind would be almost 
 abeam when the ship was homeward bound, and 
 there were the winch and the capstan to brace the 
 yards well forward if the wind drew ahead. 
 
 " Sing out, George ! " cried Julia. And they 
 brought the fore and foretopsail-yard, with fore- 
 tack and sheet all gone, round, to their chanty 
 of " Chillyman." 
 
 " Randy dandy, heigho ! 
 Chillyman ! 
 
 Pull for a shilling, heigho 1 
 Chillyman ! 
 
 Young and willing, heigho ! 
 Sweet and killing ole bo', 
 Dandy, heigho ! 
 Chillyman ! " 
 
 The Newfoundland looked on and grumbled be- 
 cause he had no hands. They got the main and the 
 mizzen-yards round to the same song with some 
 laughter, because Hardy put a few words of sweet-
 
 f The Mate of the Good Ship York f> 
 
 ness into his invention as he sang, and the girl's voice 
 was rich with appreciation as the flute of her lips 
 swept the carol of her delight into his manly tones. 
 
 Then they saw to the fore-tack and sheet and to 
 the jib-sheets, and the ship floated away steadily 
 round in graceful salutations to the dejected hand- 
 kerchiefs on the quarter. Hardy cast the wheel 
 adrift and told the girl to hold it whilst he steadied 
 the yards by hauling as taut as his pair of hands 
 could the weather-braces of the fore and main and 
 the lee-braces of the mizzen. 
 
 This done he stood beside Julia to teach her how 
 to steer.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 PRACTICAL SEAMANSHIP 
 
 HE is a lucky sailor to whom is granted the oppor- 
 tunity of teaching a girl with a romantic face and 
 a beautiful figure the art of steering a full-rigged 
 ship. Though the sailor is often in the company 
 of ladies at sea, he is kept very severely forward, 
 whilst the ladies are kept very severely aft; and 
 if they formed a seraglio imprisoned on soft couches 
 and fanned by eunuchs, behind walls ten feet thick, 
 Jack at sea could not know less of the ladies at sea. 
 
 Hardy's job was therefore a delightful one, and the 
 more delightful because the ship was now homeward 
 bound, and the morning was fair and the sea cour- 
 teous and graceful in caress. 
 
 " Do you see that black mark on the white under 
 the glass? " 
 
 " Yes," answered the girl. 
 
 " It is called the lubber's mark : it is the business 
 of the helmsman to keep a point of the compass 
 aiming at it ; that point is the ship's course. Do you 
 observe that the point that is levelled St the lubber's 
 mark is north-by-east? " 
 
 " If you call it so I shall remember it," answered 
 the girl. 
 
 " The lubber's point," Hardy continued, " repre- 
 273
 
 274 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York ?* 
 
 sents an imaginary line ruled straight from the 
 stern into the very eyes of the ship, where the bow- 
 sprit and jib-booms point the road. If, then, I tell 
 you to keep that point called north-by-east pointing 
 as steadily as the swing of the ship's head will permit 
 to the lubber's mark, then I am asking you to steer 
 the ship in the direction I wish her to go." 
 
 She frowned a little in contemplation at the com- 
 pass card, and said, " I believe I understand you." 
 
 " I will teach you to box the compass presently," 
 Hardy went on. " You will easily get the names, 
 and will not be at a loss if I should say the course 
 is northeast or nor'-nor'east, and so on. And now 
 see here: the action of a ship's wheel exactly re- 
 verses the action of a boat's tiller. Look under that 
 grating; that is the tiller, and when you revolve the 
 wheel the chains which drag the tiller sweep the 
 rudder on one side or the other, so that when I tell 
 you to put your helm a-starboard you revolve your 
 wheel to the left, which will bring the rudder over to 
 the left ; and when I say port your helm you revolve 
 your wheel to the right, which carries your rudder 
 over to the right. If you steered by the tiller, then 
 to the order of starboard your helm, you would put 
 your tiller to the right. Do you understand ? " 
 
 The machinery of the compass, the wheel, the 
 tiller, and its chains girdling the barrel, was all be- 
 fore her, and she would have been a blockhead if she 
 had not grasped the simple matter speedily but 
 you, madam, who are a lady and read this, may be 
 puzzled; possibly you are not, but if you are I do 
 not wonder. 
 
 " Now," he said, " I want the ship to be off her
 
 $ Practical Seamanship $ 275 
 
 course: mark what I do; she shall be a little to 
 leeward of her course." 
 
 He put the helm by a few spokes over, and the 
 binnacle card revolved two points from its course 
 as the ship's head rounded away with the wind. 
 
 " Now," said Hardy, " I bring her again to her 
 course : observe what I do : we call this putting the 
 helm down." 
 
 He brought her to her course and arrested her at 
 it, and the girl cried, eagerly, " Yes, yes, I see. Let 
 me hold the wheel, George." 
 
 She grasped the spokes, a swelling, beautiful, con- 
 quering figure, a delight to the eye, a triumph of 
 British girlhood, one of those women who are the 
 mothers of the gallant and glorious sons that man 
 the signal-halliards of our country. 
 
 " Now bring the ship to windward of her course," 
 said Hardy. 
 
 " I do not understand you," she answered, re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 " Make that bowsprit yonder point there" he ex- 
 claimed, and he indicated with outstretched hand 
 a part of the horizon to windward of the bow. 
 
 " Why didn't you speak more plainly ? I can 
 do it." 
 
 She revolved the wheel by three or four spokes, 
 and hailed with eyes of transport and conquest the 
 response of the compass card. 
 
 " Do you understand ? " said Hardy. 
 
 " My dear," she answered, " I can steer your ship 
 perfectly." 
 
 " Not yet," he said, " but you are not far off." 
 
 Thus proceeded this pleasant tuition, and for half 
 an hour Hardy stood beside the wheel teaching his
 
 iy6 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 sweetheart how to steer. The Newfoundland sat 
 alongside of them and seemed to listen, for his loving 
 eyes were often on Hardy's face whilst he spoke. 
 He tried the girl again and again, and at the end of 
 half an hour she was expressing keen appreciation 
 of his delightful lecture by dutiful movement of the 
 wheel. But, indeed, the ship did not need much 
 steering that fine day. Had the helm been lashed it 
 is probable that, braced as the yards lay, and pulling 
 in steadfast accord as the sails were, the ship would 
 have made a tranquil passage of an hour with no 
 other check to the dull kicks of the rudder than a 
 rope's end. 
 
 He left the girl to steer whilst he tautened here 
 and there a brace with the watch-tackle ; then entered 
 the galley, saw to the fire, the coppers, and their 
 contents. He was accepting an enormous obligation ; 
 could he discharge it ? He felt the heart of a dozen 
 men in his pulse, and he knew that if God did not 
 smite her with sickness the spirit of his heroic girl 
 would make her the match of any man, able-bodied 
 or ordinary; so, though the York might be under- 
 manned, her crew of a man and a girl, with a dog for 
 a lookout, would carry her home. 
 
 The weather was so fine that he did not mean to 
 make a job of seamanship. He did not intend to 
 keep a lookout for ships unless it was to escape col- 
 lision, because no ship that hove in sight, however 
 willing, should be allowed to help him. The York 
 was to be his own and the girl's fortune, and, much 
 as he respected the sailor, no man afloat would be 
 permitted to share in this estate. 
 
 He stood a minute on the forecastle to admire the 
 beautiful fabric, and to pity the powerlessness which
 
 f Practical Seamanship f> 277 
 
 held imprisoned the cloths whose lustrous spaces 
 would have climbed to the trucks in bright breasts 
 yearning for home. Afar trembled the pocket-hand- 
 kerchiefs of the sodden brig. The naked vision 
 could no longer distinguish their appeal. She broke 
 the continuity of the girdle, that was all, and she 
 hovered on the skirts of the deep like a gibbet beheld 
 afar. Hardy went right aft to the wheel ; it was in 
 the afternoon, and the speed of the ship was about 
 four miles an hour. 
 
 " We will make ourselves happy," said he. " This 
 is yachting, and if you strain the imagination of your 
 eyes you shall see close aboard the white terraces of 
 the Isle of Wight." 
 
 She laughed and answered, " We shall be off that 
 island some day." 
 
 " No fear," he replied. " Don't suppose I mean 
 to sail her up channel. Plymouth is our port, and as 
 we sha'n't be able to let go the anchor, I'll seize a 
 blue shirt to the fore-lift and that 'ull bring a man- 
 o'-war's boat alongside." 
 
 "Why?" she asked. 
 
 " Because it is the merchant seaman's signal that 
 he wants to join the white ensign, and the naval 
 officer is always greedy for men." 
 
 But this was spoken many years ago. The signal 
 of the blue shirt has been hauled down and buried 
 with many other customs under the thin white wake 
 of the metal battleship. 
 
 " Why do you want a naval boat ; would not any 
 other boat do? " asked Julia. 
 
 " No ; the Royal Navy claims no salvage and gets 
 none. Any other boat would make a claim for 
 assistance, and I mean that our cake shall be whole."
 
 f The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 He brought two chairs out of the cabin, gave one 
 to Julia and took one himself, with his hand on a 
 spoke. Their faithful friend the dog lay in the 
 westering sun beside them ; and now they talked of 
 what they should do in the night, and came to terms 
 about the discipline of the crew whilst the ship kept 
 the sea. 
 
 " I shall be on deck as much as I can," said he. 
 " I must sleep on deck; I do not choose to lie with- 
 out shelter during my watch below. I'll bring a 
 hen-coop aft, thoroughly cleanse it, and put a mat- 
 tress into it after knocking away the rails. That's 
 a good idea ! " 
 
 " Excellent ! " she exclaimed ; " and clear out 
 another hen-coop for me. How romantic to sleep 
 in a hen-coop ! " and she laughed softly, looking 
 lovingly at him. 
 
 " If I should crow in my sleep whilst you're at 
 the wheel you'll know that I am being hen-pecked." 
 
 " Can't we put Sailor to some use? " she asked. 
 
 The animal lifted his head to the sound of his 
 name, and all was intelligence in his soft, pathetic 
 eyes. 
 
 " You shall sleep on a mattress at- the foot of the 
 companion-steps, where you will be sheltered. I 
 have an idea. Are you strong enough to bring your 
 mattress out of your berth and place it on deck with 
 a pillow? " 
 
 " Chaw ! " she answered, with a shrug. " I have 
 lifted an old woman out of bed. What do you want 
 me to do?" 
 
 " Spread your mattress on the port side of the 
 steps, get a pillow, and stretch yourself upon it, and 
 sing out when you're ready."
 
 $ Practical Seamanship *& 279 
 
 She instantly rose and descended; the dog was 
 about to follow her. 
 
 " Lie down, Sailor ! " and the dog obeyed. 
 
 In a few moments the clear voice sounded, " On 
 deck there ! " 
 
 "Hallo!" 
 
 " All ready, George." 
 
 " Shut your eyes and seem asleep. Sailor ! " The 
 dog immediately stood up with an inquiring look, 
 ears slightly lifted. "Fetch her, Sailor! fetch 
 her!" 
 
 The dog trembled, and looked with a sort of 
 passion about him. 
 
 " Fetch her, Sailor ! fetch her ! " shouted Hardy, 
 pointing down the hatch. 
 
 The noble creature sprang down the steps. In a 
 moment Julia began to scream. 
 
 " Oh ! " he heard her say ; " he is tearing my dress, 
 George." 
 
 " Come up with him ; it is all right," he bellowed. 
 And up came the girl with her skirt in the mouth of 
 the dog, who tried to get in front of her to drag her 
 as though they were both in the sea and awash ; but 
 she rilled the way and the Newfoundland could not 
 jam past her. 
 
 The dog held on till she was seated ; he had not 
 torn her dress, and the sweethearts fell into a fit 
 of immoderate laughter, whilst the dog by panto- 
 mime of tail and motion exhibited every mark of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " What a wonderful animal ! " said Julia. 
 
 " That breed is cleverer than we are," answered 
 Hardy, " and as humane as angels. He understood 
 me; it was like bidding him jump overboard after 
 you."
 
 280 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York *f 
 
 " But what is your object, George? " 
 
 " I might want you, and if you are in a sound 
 sleep and a breeze is blowing in low thunder over 
 the companion-way, I might yelp myself into the 
 disease of laryngitis without awakening you. The 
 dog rests beside me and is at hand to call you." 
 
 " You are very clever, George. The more I see of 
 you the cleverer you become. Dear old Sailor ! must 
 he lie beside you on deck unsheltered ? " 
 
 " I shall lash an empty cask to the grating ; there 
 is plenty of sailcloth forward, and he shall have a 
 kennel. Take the wheel, Julia; there is something 
 to be done before the night falls. The breeze 
 freshens too; hurrah, see how straight the white 
 race flies astern of her! Under such canvas too! 
 Keep her steady and don't be afraid." 
 
 " Afraid ! " she answered with a glance at him, 
 which made him feel as if he was married. 
 
 He walked forward, laughing, trusting his girl as 
 though she had been an able seaman. A great deal 
 of confusion followed when he caught a few hens out 
 of one coop and thrust them into the other. Such 
 heartrending screams of despair, and two cocks and 
 five or six hens in the other coop strained their 
 throats in clamorous sympathy, and you could have 
 sworn that the whole crowd of them, cocks and all, 
 had just laid eggs. When the hen-coop was clear 
 he passed his knife through the lashings, fetched an 
 axe, swept the bars out of their fixings to the ac- 
 companiment of the orchestra in the other hen-coop, 
 drew a bucket of water, and with a scrubbing brush 
 thoroughly cleansed the dirty thing, which had the 
 width of a trunk, though much longer. 
 
 He found it was heavy to drag, being a somewhat
 
 9 Practical Seamanship $ 281 
 
 solid structure, so he called the Newfoundland to 
 him and harnessed him to the coop by the watch- 
 tackle. The dog tugged with the vigour of a man, 
 Hardy shoved, and the hen-coop rushed along the 
 deck right aft, whilst Julia with tears of laughter 
 in her eyes kept the speeding ship to her course 
 as though she had done nothing but steer ever since 
 she could stand. But there was more yet to be 
 done, and the sun was setting. He took the cooked 
 meat out of the coppers and placed the steaming 
 mass on a dish until it should grow cold. 
 
 Suddenly his ear was taken by a strange noise of 
 hissing over the side; it was something more than 
 the sheeting of the ship through the soft whiteness 
 she made. It was like a continuous snarl threading 
 the blowing off of steam. 
 
 He looked over the rail and saw the boat they 
 had come aboard in from the brig rushing with 
 comet-like velocity close alongside, like a little child 
 swept to her home by the enraged mother that had 
 lost her. 
 
 He debated a minute, and then said to himself, 
 " She is of no use, neither she, nor the fresh water, 
 nor the grub that is in her." 
 
 He was making his way into the channels to cast 
 the painter adrift. 
 
 "Where are you going?" shrieked Julia at the 
 wheel. He explained. 
 
 " If I see you in the water behind me I shall jump 
 after you," she cried, with a look of alarm and real 
 anxiety. 
 
 " Can't I drop into a ship's chains without going 
 overboard ? " he answered, and disappeared, and a 
 short scream at the wheel attended his going.
 
 282 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 The boat was easily released, and to the great joy 
 of Julia the manly face of her sailor was once more 
 visible. They both watched the boat as she receded. 
 
 " She'll be fallen in with," said Hardy, " and some 
 skipper will log her and make a fearful mystery of 
 her. Every tragic possibility of shipwreck is in her. 
 She is the issue of fire, collision, the leak, the meteor- 
 cloven craft " 
 
 " What do you mean? " interrupted Julia. 
 
 " The ship's off her course," said Hardy. "That's 
 quite right. Three spokes did it. Now look how 
 fair the compass course points to the lubber's mark." 
 
 " What's a meteor-cloven ship ? " she asked. 
 
 " I never heard of a big ship having been sunk by 
 a meteor," he answered; " but I have been told of 
 a great stone dropping out of the sky with the 
 meteoric flash of a fallen star plump through the 
 hatchway of a schooner and down through her: 
 the sailors took to the pumps and then to the 
 boats. That's what I mean." 
 
 And now he must prepare a bed for himself and 
 the dog. He could not find an empty barrel, but 
 just against the windlass the cook or the cabin 
 servant had placed for firewood perhaps, or for other 
 reasons, a big empty case, which might have con- 
 tained wine or commodities of some sort. This 
 placed on its side would do, and as it was too heavy 
 for him to carry, and too rough for him to shove, he 
 harnessed the Newfoundland to it as to the coop, 
 and Sailor, helped by Hardy, ran the case close 
 against the wheel. 
 
 " The ship is sailing very fast," said Julia. 
 
 " A little over five knots, perhaps," answered 
 Hardy. " We wants legs, my love. Blow, blow, my
 
 $ Practical Seamanship $ 283 
 
 sweet breeze." And he sang to himself whilst he 
 got the box on to its side and secured it to the 
 grating. 
 
 " Now for your bed, Sailor, and then we'll go to 
 supper." 
 
 He reflected, and remembered that there was straw 
 in the fore-peak for the use of the old sow that had 
 been and was gone recollect that he had been 
 mate of this ship, and knew exactly where to look 
 for what he wanted. He dropped into the fore-peak, 
 which was like descending into a hell of smells and 
 the mutter of troubled water, and reappeared with 
 his arms full of straw, transforming Julia's wistful 
 face into beaming pleasure, for his briefest dis- 
 appearance struck a sort of horror to her heart. 
 
 Thus was the Newfoundland housed, and before 
 making up his own bed in the hen-coop the sweet- 
 hearts went to supper. 
 
 The girl had been standing some time at the wheel. 
 It was proper she should be relieved, so Hardy 
 grasped the spokes whilst Julia went below, followed 
 by the dog, to fetch something to eat. She arrived 
 with wine, biscuits, jam, and tinned meats. You 
 will remember that she had been an under-stew- 
 ardess, and was used to waiting upon people. But 
 that was not all : she had nursed old ladies, had 
 for a very lean wage indeed washed, dressed, and 
 walked out with children; in fact, she long after- 
 ward told Hardy that, always having emigration in 
 her mind, she had worked at a laundry for some 
 weeks. In point of service, therefore, she was well 
 equipped for life, and Hardy saw in her the helpful 
 woman, the wise and devoted wife, beautiful in 
 figure and, now that she was happy, most engaging 
 in face.
 
 284 The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 The three of the ship's company ate their supper, 
 and two of them talked and watched the sunset. 
 The further north you go the greater is the glory of 
 the sun's departure; yet yonder was a magnificent 
 scene of golden pavilions hung with tapestries of 
 deep blue ether ; the flight of the eastern cloud was 
 like incense pouring from the evening star, unrisen 
 or invisible: the vapour fled on the wings of the 
 wind to enrich the light in the west by duplication 
 of scarlet splendour, and the ship blew steadily 
 along controlled by the hand of Hardy, who was 
 sometimes fed by Julia. 
 
 All about was the soft, sweet noise of creaming 
 seas ; the brig astern had vanished into airy nothing, 
 and the York sailed a kingdom of her own. 
 
 " Will there be a moon? " asked Julia. 
 
 " Between nine and ten," he answered. " A slice 
 of moon. We can do without her. There is light in 
 starshine, and we can do without that also. I must 
 light the binnacle lamp and get the side-lights over. 
 I thank God that this wind promises steadiness. Yet 
 it may shift, and then I shall want the dog to awake 
 you whilst I see what a single pair of arms can do 
 with the braces." 
 
 " Do you think I shall not hear you if you shout ? " 
 said she. 
 
 " I'll not chance it," he answered. 
 
 " Do you believe we shall carry this ship home ? " 
 she asked. 
 
 " I'll not hope, for hoping is bragging, but we'll 
 try, Julia. A man cannot add a cubit to his mother's 
 gift of stature by standing on stilts; but we'll try, 
 Julia." 
 
 " Who can do more ? " she asked.
 
 $ Practical Seamanship $ 285 
 
 " Hold this wheel while I light the lamps." 
 
 He set about this job and speedily despatched it, 
 knowing exactly where to lay his hands upon every- 
 thing he wanted, then brought his mattress up along 
 with the rug and jammed it into his hen-coop, and 
 lay down. It was rather a tight fit with the mat- 
 tress, but it gave him the length he wanted, and 
 if he did not start in his sleep he need not knock his 
 head against the ceiling. He carefully secured the 
 hen-coop to belaying pins. 
 
 " That'll provide," said he, " against being taken 
 aback." 
 
 He then went below and lighted the cabin lamp, 
 and saw to Julia's bed by readjustment of the 
 mattress clear of the draughts circling down the 
 companionway. He fetched covering for her, and 
 it was for her to make herself comfortable when the 
 time came. 
 
 By this hour it was dark ; there was no light upon 
 the deep save the musket-like wink of the sea flash. 
 But the stars swarmed in brilliant processions be- 
 twixt the clouds over the mastheads, and their subtle 
 light was in the air, and you saw things dimly. The 
 Newfoundland was asleep in his kennel beside the 
 wheel. Julia, who had come aboard with nothing 
 on but the clothes she stood in, fetched the captain's 
 cloak from the captain's cabin. It was a long coat 
 with a warm cape, and I call it a cloak because it 
 wasn't a great-coat. It clothed her to her little feet, 
 and she sat as warm in it as in the embrace of 
 eiderdown. 
 
 "How shall we manage to keep watch?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " I shall keep the deck till twelve," he answered;
 
 286 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 " I have a watch, and there is the binnacle light 
 which from time to time will want trimming. Sailor 
 will call you at twelve see now his use ? And I'll 
 trim the lights, and lie close beside you there for 
 a couple of hours, for I can do with very little sleep, 
 and the more sleep you can get the better, because 
 you will keep strong and will be able to steer in the 
 day whilst I take an off-shore spell in my coop." 
 
 " If I felt I could sleep, I would go and lie down 
 at once," she answered; " but I love to sit and talk 
 with you. What time is it, George? " 
 
 " Nearly half-past eight," he answered, putting 
 his watch to the binnacle. 
 
 " Grant me till nine, I may then be sleepy. But 
 I feel as if that sleep of drug was going to suffice me 
 a year." 
 
 " Oh, my heart, am not I rejoiced that you should 
 be with me! " he exclaimed, in a soft and melodious 
 note of love. " Think if that madman had missed 
 the brig and sailed on! " 
 
 She shuddered and answered, " I dare not think." 
 Then after a pause she said, " Suppose a steamer 
 came in sight, wouldn't she tow us home ? " 
 
 " I wouldn't give her the chance." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " She would demand salvage, and get it." 
 
 " It is shameful," she exclaimed, " that a ship 
 should be paid for helping a ship in distress." 
 
 " The shipowner knows no shame," answered 
 Hardy, " and neither does his- dumb confederate, 
 the underwriter. One builds a jerry ship to sink, 
 and the other pins a policy on to the villain's back 
 that he may sleep whether his ship goes down or 
 not."
 
 $ Practical Seamanship f 287 
 
 It was strange to look along the decks and witness 
 no figure of man. No shape of seaman was on the 
 forecastle to extinguish a thousand stars as the jib- 
 booms rose pointing to the sky; no shadow of man 
 stirred in the waist or the main-deck. The mighty 
 loneliness of the deep was in this ship from the wheel 
 to where the forecastle rails clasped hands above 
 the figure-head. But sentience was in her and she 
 knew it, and nobly confessed the spirit of control 
 by the glad, direct and cleaving shear of her stem. 
 
 Happy is the sailor who can sit beside his sweet- 
 heart on board ship on a fine night and discourse 
 of love and other matters without dread of the eye 
 of the master-mariner. This couple talked of the 
 safe arrival of the ship. They would buy a little 
 cottage; they would not go to sea any more. It is 
 always a cottage well inshore that is the sailor's 
 dream. It was our glorious Nelson's for many 
 years ; witness his letters to his wife, whom he loved 
 before the traitress wound her brilliant coils round 
 the hero's heart, and numbed the loyalty of its pulse 
 to one who had cherished him in sickness and was 
 his dearest one when the shadow of his life was 
 yet short in the sun of his glory. 
 
 The dust of the shooting star glittered on high; 
 the steady voice of the night wind filled the shrouds 
 with the melodies of invisible spirits; the white 
 wake gleamed astern like the dusty highway which 
 is the road to home ; the softly plunging bows awoke 
 the minstrelsy of the surge. It was night upon the 
 Atlantic, and no twinkle of side-lamp was to be 
 seen upon the sea line. 
 
 At nine by Hardy's watch, Julia kissed her sweet- 
 heart's lips and held him by the hand a little.
 
 288 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 " Good night, good night," she said ; " I will say 
 a prayer before I sleep." 
 
 " Never forget that," answered Hardy. " Be sure 
 it is He that hath made us and not we ourselves. 
 Pray to him and bless him and thank him, and 
 his love will be with us." 
 
 Is this the common talk of the sea? Do Smollett 
 and Marryat make their heroes converse like this? 
 Thrust your hands into your ribs, ye ribald crew, 
 and laugh with godless merriment at this present- 
 ment of a sailor who was a gentleman, who feared 
 God, to whom the helplessness of his companion 
 was no appeal to the heart that loved her, respected 
 her, and desired that she should be true to herself 
 and to him. 
 
 He was alone at the wheel, and now she was 
 gone to rest and the dog was asleep he was alone 
 in the ship, but he could keep a lookout as well 
 as the dog, and the dog would not be called upon 
 to serve until the girl was alone at the wheel whilst 
 her lover slept. 
 
 Many thoughts were this fine young sailor's; he 
 was full of hope and courage, and often bent his 
 mind to shrewd contemplation of contingency the 
 shift of the breeze, the head wind, the gale, and 
 other gay humours and tragic scowls of the life. 
 But the winch was four men, and the watch-tackle 
 a little company of hands, and he did not despair. 
 Sometimes he meditated on the port he should make ; 
 if it came to the worst, then, when in the English 
 Channel, he would shape a course for Ramsgate 
 Harbour and run her on the mud, and no man must 
 be suffered to board her, for the money of the safety
 
 > Practical Seamanship 289 
 
 of the ship was to be his and hers, and that was the 
 settled resolution of his soul. 
 
 When twelve o'clock came round he did not wish 
 to sleep; he would have chosen rather that Julia 
 should have slumbered until dawn. But the refresh- 
 ment of rest was an imperious demand with which 
 he must comply for his own and for the sake of the 
 girl, the safety of their noble companion, the safety 
 of the ship and her cargo. He thought he would 
 try Julia by calling, and he shouted four or five times, 
 but, as he had foreseen, the sweep of the wind broke 
 his voice to pieces in the companionway, and her 
 ears were blocked with sleep. 
 
 The dog started up and came to his side at the 
 outcry of the man. " Fetch her, Sailor ! fetch her ! " 
 he cried, pointing to the companion-hatch. 
 
 The Newfoundland barked and seemed to wonder. 
 
 " Fetch her, Sailor ! fetch her ! " he roared again, 
 still pointing. 
 
 This time the dog understood. He sprang to the 
 ladder and vanished, and a moment later Julia's cries 
 were piercing. But it was merely the noise of terror 
 such as would be excited in a girl awakened from 
 a sound sleep by the resolute drag of a dog's teeth. 
 She understood the thing in a minute, patted the dog, 
 who was dragging her by her skirt to the ladder, 
 snatched up her hat and the captain's cloak, and 
 arrived on deck with the dog, whose tail timed the 
 wag of the stars over the mastheads. 
 
 " Have you slept? " he asked. 
 
 " Too well," she answered. " I screamed because 
 Sailor broke in upon a nightmare and fitted it." 
 
 "Will you be able to hold the wheel?" 
 
 "I'll try. What is the time?"
 
 290 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 " After midnight nearly one bell," he answered. 
 
 She stood at the wheel, and her firm grasp was 
 full of promise of control. 
 
 " Is that the course? " she inquired, looking into 
 the compass. 
 
 " Yes, and keep her to it as best you can by the 
 starshine whilst I trim the lamp." 
 
 " What is our pace, dear? " 
 
 " Six and a half at least," he answered. 
 
 He made haste to trim the lamp and saw to the 
 side-lights, and his spirits were high and his hope 
 more exalted yet when he saw how well the girl 
 steered. A big ship for a girl to control ! And all 
 the sweet archness of her incomparable posture was 
 unconsciously expressed to her lover as he flashed 
 the light over her before adjusting it for the illumi- 
 nation of the card. 
 
 " Now for a little supper," said he, " then I shall 
 lie down." 
 
 He fetched some food and wine, and ate himself 
 whilst he helped Julia to eat; the dog was remem- 
 bered; and all the while he kept his eyes fixed 
 in critical attention upon the girl's handling of the 
 wheel. 
 
 " Sailor, go forward and keep a lookout, sir," he 
 exclaimed, and this was an order which, as you 
 know, the dog understood, and was accustomed to 
 obey. He had supped and was thankful, and, faith- 
 ful to his duty as Tom Bowline, the brave New- 
 foundland trotted forward to the forecastle, and 
 took up a position of lookout betwixt the knight- 
 heads. 
 
 " Here is my watch, Julia," said Hardy. " Call 
 me at half-past two but sooner, at the instant of
 
 f Practical Seamanship $ 291 
 
 need, if your arm should weary or the breeze shift 
 and drive you off your course. I am a sailor and 
 used to keeping my ears open in sleep. I am close 
 beside you there, and your first cry will bring me 
 out like a cork to the drag of a corkscrew." 
 
 " I will call you at half-past two," she answered. 
 " She is as easy to steer as a boat. Look how steady 
 the course swings at the mark there ! " 
 
 He paused and gazed round him. The white 
 cloud was speeding swiftly across the stars, and the 
 ship hummed with the wind as the thrill of its ebon 
 lines of gear, of shroud and stay and back-stay, 
 shook its transport into the plank. The glass was 
 steady he had seen to that when he went below 
 for the midnight supper; and there was no sign of 
 worse, or changeful, or other weather within or on 
 the verge of the mighty liquid sweep, whose heart 
 was the ship, carrying onwards always the illimitable 
 girdle on which she floated, the central figure of the 
 night. 
 
 Hardy got into the hen-coop a tight fit ; but in 
 it he was well sheltered, for the coop was under the 
 lee of the weather-bulwark. He drew an old coat 
 he had brought up over him, pillowed his head on 
 the rolled-up flag he had thrown into the hen-coop, 
 and in a minute was asleep. 
 
 A sailor's sleep is sound, and sacred as the slumber 
 of death to his messmates and shipmates as they 
 mutter softly round about him and tread the upper 
 plank with airy feet that all shall be hushed in the 
 forecastle hushed unless' it be the crying of the 
 wind or the sullen thunder of the bow-sea, or the 
 cries of the watch on high furling or reefing to the 
 trumpet commands of the quarter-deck. Nothing
 
 292 * The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 in all ocean romance is comparable to this picture 
 of a full-rigged ship in command of a girl who is 
 alone at the wheel whilst her lover sleeps, whilst a 
 dog on the forecastle-head watches the ocean line 
 with faithful eye for the sparkle of light, for the 
 dim sheen of canvas, for the stream of smoke 
 spangled with the stars of the furnace, that shall 
 make him bark in barks as truthful of indication as 
 the strokes of the tongue upon the ship's bell. 
 
 The wind held a sweet, true breeze as Hardy had 
 foreseen, whilst that brave little heart kept the ship's 
 course steady to the lubber's point. She was not 
 tired, sleep had refreshed her; standing was no 
 trial; she was warmly draped, and felt a sort of 
 glory in this occupation of sea-throne, which enabled 
 her to do her duty and to hold her sweetheart in 
 tranquil and most necessary repose. She was quick 
 in intelligence, and the sea was small and its weight 
 was of the summer; and she found a woman's de- 
 light in her power of governing, for the ship 
 answered to her white hand with a courtier-like 
 grace; she felt to be queen of the lordly fabric, and 
 her spell at the wheel was a triumph of British 
 girlhood.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE BOAT-FULL 
 
 IT was hard upon half-past two in the morning. 
 The breeze had been blowing steadily throughout, 
 and the white pace of the ship was more than six 
 knots in the hour. Julia put her hand into her 
 pocket and pulled out Hardy's watch and saw what 
 o'clock it was ; the stars flashed over the mastheads 
 with each floating reel of the buoyant, girl-controlled 
 fabric ; the silver dust of the speeding star vanishing 
 in a length of fainting light scored the deep mid- 
 night blue between the clouds; the voice of the 
 ocean rejoicing in the swinging dance of the breeze 
 filled the air with sounds of the cataract, the foam of 
 the waterfall, the wrangle of the freshet with the sea. 
 
 Suddenly, far forward past the shadowy arch of 
 the fore-course, you heard the deep bay of a great 
 dog. A ship was in sight! 
 
 " O God ! " cried Julia at the wheel, interpreting 
 the deep-noted thunder of the great creature, " What 
 am I to do?" 
 
 But such a bark as Sailor could deliver was not to 
 sound unheeded in the sleeping ear of a seaman. 
 Hardy started, rolled out of his hen-coop, and was 
 by Julia's side in a few pulses. 
 
 " I see her," he shouted, and seizing the wheel he 
 put it hard a-port. 
 
 293
 
 294 *$* The Mate of the Good Ship York f* 
 
 Then on the port bow loomed an ashen apparition 
 with one red light, like the hideous stare of a 
 drunkard, visible in the stagger of the bows. It was 
 a full-rigged ship, clothed to her trucks with white 
 canvas, about a mile and a half distant. She was 
 standing to the southward and westward, and the 
 red eye of the York was upon her; there would 
 have been no collision, but Sailor's voice was timely. 
 Hardy brought the ship to her course again, and 
 the stranger was on the bow, sliding like a church- 
 yard phantom over the glimmering tombstones of 
 the deep. 
 
 " She is an American," said Hardy. 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Julia. 
 
 " She is clothed in cotton, that is why I know. 
 What a noble lookout is Sailor. Didn't you see 
 her?" 
 
 "I see her now, but not before now," she 
 answered. 
 
 " Brave dog," cried Hardy. 
 
 He called to him and the Newfoundland came 
 rushing aft, with many tokens visible in the star- 
 shine of the emotion of satisfaction which good dogs 
 feel when they have done their duty. 
 
 " You are wearied out, Julia," said Hardy. " Do 
 you feel as stiff with standing as a shroud of wire- 
 rigging?" 
 
 " It is half-past two," answered the girl. " Here 
 is your watch, George. Lie down, dearest, and I 
 will stand here for another hour; I am not tired." 
 
 " Hold the wheel whilst I trim this light," was 
 his answer. When this was done he said, " Now 
 to bed, my lass."
 
 $ The Boat - Full $ 295 
 
 She heard command in his voice, and answered, 
 " I should love to lie in your hen-coop." 
 
 " Take off your hat and get into it. Tis snug 
 enough. Pull the jacket over you, and sleep sleep 
 sleep ; and then you will be able to thank Mary 
 Queen who sent the sleep that slid into your soul. 
 But first go below and get a little wine and food." 
 
 She was as obedient as a good sailor, refreshed 
 herself in the cabin where the lamp was burning, and 
 returned with a glass of rum and water and a biscuit. 
 " And my pipe," said he. And he told her where to 
 find the pipe and the tobacco. 
 
 Before she got into the hen-coop he said to her : 
 
 " I wish I could teach the dog to steer ; but that is 
 impossible. But I tell you what when those yards 
 need trimming I shall want some one to hold on to 
 the slack, and by all that's good Sailor shall do it." 
 
 " Why doesn't God enable such a creature as this 
 to speak as we do ? " said Julia. " It has the mind 
 why should it lack the voice, when even the filthiest 
 cannibal may use his tongue ? " 
 
 " Get you to bed, Julia." 
 
 She crept into the hen-coop, wrapped her clothes 
 about her legs, pulled the sailor's coat over her, and 
 lay watching her lover. 
 
 Hardy stood at the wheel with a pipe in his mouth, 
 and the dog slept in his kennel alongside. It was 
 not for long that Julia was allowed to sleep. When 
 it was a quarter before four, when the darkness that 
 grows deeper before the dawn dwelt like a sable 
 vapour upon the face of the sea, when the flash of 
 the star was fast in its westward sweep, and the red 
 scar of moon looked dully down like a piece of 
 broken glass thick stained, through which the crim,- 1
 
 296 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York f* 
 
 son splendour above drains and oozes, the wind 
 shifted suddenly three points; 'twas then almost 
 abeam. 
 
 He called to the girl. Her awakening found her 
 astounded by her situation. Was she in a coffin? 
 He called again, and the saint-like voice of love 
 brought her from her sepulchre of hen-coop with an 
 eager cry of, " I am wide awake. What is it? " 
 
 " The wind has shifted, Julia. Do you know what 
 I mean?" 
 
 " The wind has changed." 
 
 " Yes, you are awake. Take hold of this wheel." 
 
 She grasped the spokes. The dog would be of 
 no use then; all Hardy could do was to slacken 
 away the weather-braces and haul taut the lee-braces 
 as well as a single pair of British arms could. He 
 clapped on the watch-tackle here and there, and 
 made the best job possible under the circumstances ; 
 but he was bothered by the want of somebody to 
 hold on to the slack. However, by belaying the 
 watch-tackle and then belaying the brace he in a 
 one-man fashion managed it, and when he returned 
 to the wheel the ship slipped to her course again with 
 her shortened canvas rap-full, and a wake like a 
 mill-race. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried Hardy, with a slap of his 
 thigh ; " storm along, old Stormy ! Whilst she 
 creaks she holds ! I'll teach that dog this morning to 
 pull a rope. He has teeth and sense and some sailors 
 have neither, because their teeth are worn out by 
 chewing salt junk, and the crimp drugs their brains 
 till the skull is like a rotten nut, full of dust." 
 
 " It is my turn at the wheel," said Julia. 
 
 " Just you go and turn in," he answered. " Here's
 
 $ The Boat - Full f 297 
 
 the skipper and there's the bed. I shall take an off- 
 shore spell sometime to-day. Rest till breakfast- 
 time, and then you shall light the galley fire, and 
 boil some coffee." 
 
 She crept into the hen-coop after holding the 
 binnacle lamp to his pipe, and the ship moved in 
 the glimmering shadow through the hour of dark- 
 ness with slightly restless yards at every solemn 
 plunge, for, like the figure of a beautiful woman, she 
 was the fairer in grace and the easier in carriage 
 when moulded by the fingers of art. 
 
 Sunrise is beautiful at sea on a fine morning ; the 
 sky ripples with silver and rose, and the sea uplifts 
 its fountain note of rejoicing as that great imperial 
 mystery of the heavens, the sun, floats off the verge 
 of the deep. The dawn found Hardy at the wheel 
 and the girl asleep in the hen-coop. He did not 
 curiously seek for a ship in sight, for he did not 
 stand in need of help, and would reject it if offered. 
 A sail was twinkling like a peak of iceberg right 
 abeam to starboard, and Hardy looked at her, and 
 thought of twenty other things. The breeze had 
 slackened slightly; it was still a pleasant summer 
 breast of sea, and the ship's speed was four. All 
 plain sail might have given her seven, and the wings 
 of the stunsail from topgallant yard-arm to swing- 
 ing-boom end might have helped her into eight. No 
 matter! She was homeward bound, and there was 
 no growler in her ship's company if it was not the 
 dog. 
 
 When Julia came out of her strange little bedroom 
 she arose like Arethusa in Shelley's poem : rosy and 
 fire-eyed, sweet with the refreshment of slumber, 
 and sweeter perhaps to a man's eye because she was
 
 298 <9> The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 unadorned. She pressed her lips to her sweetheart's 
 cheek. 
 
 " Let me take the wheel," said she, " while you 
 rest." 
 
 " Can you light a fire ? " he answered. 
 
 She looked at him with reproachful wonder. 
 
 " What cannot I do ? What has not poverty made 
 me do?" 
 
 " Will you light the galley fire? " said he, "and fill 
 a kettle out of that scuttle-butt, boil some water, and 
 give us a hot drink of coffee? Poor old Crummie 
 is dead and gone, but her spirit survives in tins, and 
 I believe there is some preserved milk in the cabin." 
 
 She did not waste much time in lighting the galley 
 fire. Everything was at hand. Whilst the kettle 
 was boiling she fetched food from the cabin, and 
 on top of the dog's kennel made some little display 
 of tablecloth, cup and saucer, and knife and fork. 
 This disturbed Sailor, who at once beheld the distant 
 sail and saluted it. 
 
 " You shall be even more useful than that," said 
 Hardy to the dog. " This morning I will look for 
 the key of the safe and judge of the value of the 
 contents." 
 
 " It is pleasanter than yachting," exclaimed Julia. 
 
 " We have to cross the Bay," replied Hardy. " It 
 may come on hard from the east'ard and blow us 
 to Boston." 
 
 " Is it always rough in the Bay of Biscay? " said 
 the girl. 
 
 " I have swept up and down it often in my life," 
 replied Hardy, " and five times out of ten we were 
 becalmed on it, and thankful for catspaws. The 
 thunder of the Bay continues to roar loud in the
 
 f The Boat -Full $ 299 
 
 song, and alarms the man in the street who talks 
 of taking shipping south. Let him be hove to off 
 the Horn in fifty-eight degrees south. Suppose you 
 see if the kettle boils." 
 
 They made an excellent breakfast and so did the 
 dog. Hardy ate and held the wheel, the ship, as 
 though in love with her people, almost steered her- 
 self. There would come a change; the God-given 
 mood of the sea is sweet, it is the weather that 
 breaks her heart. As a drunken husband seizes his 
 pale and pretty wife by the hair, and flogs her into 
 shrieks and madness, so does the weather serve the 
 ocean. It is good for the fish who breathe thereby, 
 but bad for the passenger at whose white, overhang- 
 ing face the invisible eye of the fish is uplifted 
 languishingly. 
 
 "Now, Julia," said Hardy, " hold the wheel whilst 
 I teach the dog a lesson in practical seamanship." 
 
 He stepped to the mizzen-royal halliards and 
 called to the dog, which followed. He cast the rope 
 off the pin, but kept one turn under the pin, and said 
 to the dog: 
 
 " Seize it and pull ! " holding out the slack. 
 
 The dog with much wagging of tail, as though he 
 reckoned that Hardy meant some caper-cutting, 
 seized the rope with his teeth. It was now a job. 
 He wanted the dog to pull at the rope, so that when 
 he swigged off at the halliards the dog by dragging 
 would keep the slack taut as though strained by 
 human hands. The intelligence of the Newfound- 
 land is proverbial and marvellous, but it took Hardy 
 all an hour to make the noble creature see what it 
 was expected to do. He then did it, and Julia, whose 
 laugh had been constant throughout the procedure,
 
 300 The Mate of the Good Ship York <*> 
 
 let go the wheel to clap her hands, whilst Hardy 
 with purple face swigged off upon the halliards, and 
 the dog, with forward slanting legs, strained the 
 slack. All three then rested : Hardy steered sitting, 
 for, as I have told you, a little movement of the 
 spokes sufficed. 
 
 After smoking a pipe whilst Julia looked to the 
 galley fire not with a view to cooking, there was 
 plenty to eat the sailor yielded the wheel to his 
 sweetheart, and went below into the captain's cabin 
 to explore the contents of the safe. First of all, he 
 was to find the key ; this proved a hunt, running into 
 ten minutes; then of course he found the bunch of 
 keys exactly where he looked last and should have 
 looked at first in the captain's desk. The key of 
 the safe was one of a few on a ring. When he 
 opened the safe he found several large metal boxes 
 like cash-boxes. All these boxes were to be fitted 
 by the keys on the ring. The first was flush with 
 magnificent jewelry bracelets, earrings, rings ; 
 and the flash of the diamond was like the sparkle of 
 the sea under the sun. The second metal box was 
 filled with gold chains of all sorts of pattern, some 
 massive, some delicate as twine, of very beautiful 
 workmanship. In the third box were watches and 
 seals, all gold, of splendid manufacture, for in those 
 days the watch was handsome, the mechanism ex- 
 quisite as the chronometer of to-day, and the gold 
 case was heavy. The fourth and last box contained 
 curiosities, such as a Jew dealer with a yellow grin 
 of awe would steal out of some mysterious hiding- 
 place and show you with something of breathlessness 
 and a frequent glance to right and left, and some- 
 times over his shoulder.
 
 $ The Boat -Full <+ 301 
 
 How am I to describe these things? A dis- 
 coloured Nelson tall as a thumb, commanding the 
 combined fleets in a cocked hat, on a large seal on 
 which was graved Trafalgar. A little Napoleon in 
 dull ivory on a massive gold seal with indistinguish- 
 able initials. Very old rings, very old gold spoons 
 but this is not an auctioneer's catalogue. Hardy 
 locked everything up. 
 
 "Julia's and mine," said he, laughing softly; by 
 which he meant the value of the salvage of the 
 precious fal-lals. 
 
 He restored the ring of keys to the desk at which 
 he glanced with a reverential eye, for he saw a little 
 packet of letters in faded ink, and he knew that there 
 too lay in a little circular box small curls of the hair 
 of the dead the wife and the little drummer. The 
 captain had shown them to him, and the hair was 
 the boy's when two years old. Hardy looked at the 
 drum, at the little bed, at the medicine-chest, at the 
 little clothes hanging at the bulkhead, and stepped 
 out with a sigh, thinking in a sort of blind way about 
 the mercy of God, the sufferings of madness, and the 
 death of little children. 
 
 " Have you found any jewels ? " asked Julia, as 
 she stood at the wheel. 
 
 " More than you could wear, my dear," he an- 
 swered, "if you were as many-limbed and many- 
 headed as an Indian god." 
 
 " Are they worth much ? " 
 
 "I am not a pawnbroker," he answered; "be- 
 sides, I have been looking at the Httle drum and it 
 has drummed the jewelry out of my head." 
 
 " For whom were the jewels intended? "
 
 302 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York 
 
 " There is always a market for trash of that sort 
 in the Colonies," he replied. 
 
 " Why don't you lie down and get some sleep? " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 " I shall keep awake," he answered, " until I have 
 shot the sun, and then perhaps I may sleep for an 
 hour, weather permitting." 
 
 As he spoke these words he was looking at the 
 sea right abeam, and held up his hand in a gesture 
 of wonder, which arrested something that Julia was 
 about to say. 
 
 " Good God ! " cried Hardy. " What's going on 
 there?" 
 
 It was about a mile and a half off, and just in that 
 place the sea was working in a sort of convulsion, 
 coil upon coil of dark blue brine wound round and 
 round like mighty sea snakes, whose sport was as 
 deadly as the pursuit of the harpooned dolphin. 
 These amazing throes of brine upon which the sun 
 was sweetly shining, and from which and to which 
 the summer breast of ocean breathed in the rejoicing 
 of the early morning, in a minute or two grew 
 savage with snaps and leaps of foam, with prong- 
 like upheavals of water, with crested shootings, and 
 the area whitened to the hue of a star, and the vol- 
 canic fury began. The ship trembled. You heard 
 no thunder of explosion ; the roar of the fire under 
 the ooze was dumb when it penetrated the spacious 
 hall of the sea; but the raging torment was visible 
 in a sudden mighty upheaval of foaming water, 
 smokeless but glorious with its cloud of spray. 
 
 A miracle ! From up from deepest soundings had 
 been forked the figure of a drowned fabric, and as a 
 ball plays poised on the feathering of a fountain so
 
 ^ The Boat -Full <* 303 
 
 floated the form of a small vessel with two lower 
 masts standing, crowning the summit of that fire- 
 expelled, pyramidal, and towering volume of foam. 
 Such sights have been witnessed at sea, for the 
 ocean is the arena of the sublime wonder, the heart- 
 thrilling miracle ; it is the mirror of God, and unlike 
 the land its breast reflects his lights. The lovers 
 gazed, the dog gazed; the ship seemed to dwell 
 under her curves of canvas as though she paused 
 to look. 
 
 " How marvellous ! " cried Julia. 
 
 Hardy rushed for the glass. He caught the 
 poised object before it vanished. It was a little ship 
 of old shape, high in stern, sloping thence to curved 
 head-boards, two masts like stone columns, richly 
 encrusted with marine growth, and lustrous as the 
 inner shell of the oyster; the hull was of a blackish 
 green and looked black in the glass in contrast with 
 the white fury upon whose apex it rolled and swayed 
 and tumbled. Then it was gone! It vanished in 
 a cannon volley of water. The sea thereabouts ran 
 boiling, but in a few minutes the curl of the breeze- 
 blown surge had triumphed over the milky softness, 
 and had the spectacle been the launch of a dead man 
 in a sailor's shroud you could not have seen less 
 of it. 
 
 "Was ever such a sight beheld before?" said 
 Julia, with tremulous breath and enlarged nostrils. 
 ' Those who go down to the sea in ships,' ' 
 answered Hardy. " Has not that observation been 
 made once or twice before? I believe I have been 
 forced to read it a thousand times, for every news- 
 paper and every book that relates to the sea quotes 
 this Scriptural sentence, and I am weary of it."
 
 304 & The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 " I have heard of islands being thrown up," said 
 Julia. 
 
 " A great deal is thrown up at sea," replied Hardy. 
 " Steady the wheel, my heart, whilst I ogle the sun." 
 
 It will be admitted that this brace of sweethearts 
 had not been very fortunate. To be burnt out, open- 
 boated, drugged, kidnapped, shipwrecked on a dere- 
 lict with a madman, are experiences of a rather 
 emphatic sort. Hardy's share had been the share 
 of a man, and bar the drug he could have gone 
 through twenty fold worse and emerged a sunburnt, 
 smiling sailor. 
 
 Fate for a little while was now to mask its grim 
 features with a pleasant leer, and for the next two 
 days of the ship's adventure the weather was calm, 
 the sea smooth enough for a little yacht, the heavens 
 bright with a little shading here and there of cloud, 
 and all went well with the crew. On the morning of 
 the third day Hardy came out of his coop like a snail 
 from its shell, only a little faster. Julia was at the 
 wheel, and the dog on the forecastle keeping a look- 
 out. 
 
 " We are in luck," said Hardy, gazing around 
 him. " Fancy only requiring to trim sail five times 
 in two days." 
 
 " How far off is the abandoned brig, do you 
 think?" asked the girl. 
 
 " All five hundred miles of salt water, Julia, and 
 a salt mile is longer than a highway mile." 
 
 They were used to the ship and the ways and 
 methods they had adopted. Thanks to the blessed 
 weather, they had by alternation secured the rest that 
 nature demanded. There was plenty to eat and 
 they ate heartily. The dog was as useful as a mid-
 
 f> The Boat -Full $ 305 
 
 shipman; he understood the meaning of the word 
 slack, and held on to it when required as though his 
 teeth were in the sleeve of a drowning man. There 
 was coal in the fore-peak, and Hardy had made the 
 necessary descent, and the stock in the galley was 
 always plentiful. 
 
 This morning they went about their work as 
 usual. Hardy steered. Julia lighted the galley fire, 
 and the dog came aft to sit beside the wheel and 
 wait for breakfast. How did Hardy look? How 
 did Julia look? Very well indeed, I can assure you. 
 When on board the abandoned brig the sailor's beard 
 grew, and he had returned somewhat bristling to 
 the York. But in this ship were his razor, lathering 
 brush, and a square of glass to make faces in. He 
 was therefore now a clean-shaven man, and I don't 
 believe there is any girl living who would not have 
 fallen in love with him. He had choice of clothes, 
 too, which put him to windward of his sweetheart. 
 But the eye of love should never be affected by ap- 
 parel, and when Julia clothed herself for warmth 
 and the night in the madman's cloak she was still 
 an incomparable figure and of romantic face. Clothes 
 have very little to do with health; you may some- 
 times peep at the goddess through a rent in the coat, 
 and I have met her in country lanes and crossing 
 meadows in the picturesque garb of the scarecrow 
 with such cheeks of scarlet, such eyes of light, such 
 teeth of ivory as might prove the envy and the 
 despair of her ladyship travelling, like the suds of 
 a washerwoman's tub, in carriage and pair to a 
 princely festival. 
 
 In fact, Julia was sparkling to the caressing hand 
 of this new life. The health of the sea was hers,
 
 306 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 the love of the sailor was hers, content and hope were 
 hers. Do not these things wait upon appetite and 
 help digestion? Do not they irradiate slumber with 
 entrancing visions? If the girl soiled her hands by 
 lighting the galley fire, she knew where to find the 
 head pump and the galley clout or a towel from aft 
 to dry her fingers. 
 
 Whilst they were eating their breakfast this morn- 
 ing the dog sprang on the grating abaft the wheel 
 and barked its lookout to the sea to windward, about 
 two points before the beam. 
 
 " Hold this wheel, Julia ! " exclaimed Hardy. 
 
 He sprang for the telescope and levelled it, and 
 the light sweep of the ship's summer lurch darted 
 a boat with a lugsail into the lens. He viewed her 
 intently in silence, which Julia did not dare to break 
 into by heedless, girlish cries of " What is it? " like 
 the distracting marginal notes of the lady's pencil 
 in the tearful, the hysteric, and the religious novel. 
 How far distant that boat was off I do not know, 
 but she lay very clean and clear in the powerful 
 tubes which Hardy was bringing to bear upon her. 
 Her sail was like a square of satin; the fabric was 
 painted black; as she rose to the fold you saw the 
 delicate gush of foam at the bow. Hardy counted 
 eight men in her, and one figure that was in the 
 bows continuously waved some streaming thing 
 white in his hands. 
 
 " My God ! " cried Hardy, letting fall the glass to 
 his side. " What a misfortune ! " 
 
 "What is it?" asked Julia. 
 
 " A boat-full of shipwrecked men," he replied, 
 and his face grew grim as he said it. " They may
 
 ?* The Boat -Full -^ 307 
 
 be dying of thirst and famine, and they must not 
 come aboard." 
 
 " Oh, George ! " exclaimed Julia, grasping the 
 thing in an instant. 
 
 " If they came aboard," he continued, speaking 
 swiftly and even fiercely, " they may seize the ship; 
 in any case their salvage claim would wreck our 
 hopes. Put the helm up. By God, they shall not 
 board us ! " 
 
 He sprang to the wheel, and the ship sloped away 
 to leeward from her course, and the bearings of the 
 boat were then abaft the beam. Julia picked up the 
 glass, and with an easy hand directed it. 
 
 " She is sailing as fast as we," she exclaimed. 
 
 " No ! " answered Hardy, in a rage. 
 
 " Must they be left to perish? " she cried. 
 
 It was an awful problem for fate to submit to a 
 sailor's mind. The very thought of thirst, of fam- 
 ine, of suffering incarnate in the miserable figures 
 of men in an open boat at sea makes faint the heart 
 of the seaman, and sooner would he expire than not 
 fly to help. But how stood this ghastly conundrum 
 with Hardy? First, who were the men? They 
 might be foreigners Greeks, Italians, Portuguese, 
 Spaniards. They had knives on their hips, and their 
 hearts would redden with the spirit of murder when, 
 being on board, they understood that the flag was 
 the Red Flag of England, and that nothing stood 
 between them and the ship and a fair-haired English 
 girl, of incomparable figure, but one man, whose 
 heart beat within the reach of their shortest blade! 
 No! They must be helped but not received. And 
 how was it to be done? And meanwhile grew this 
 fear if the wind slackened, if a calm fell, they
 
 308 <** The Mate of the Good Ship York <* 
 
 would gain the ship with their oars. Hardy was 
 without a revolver. Captain Layard had taken 
 away his ; how could he resist how could one 
 man resist the desperate clamber of eight men in- 
 furiate with thirst, famine, and deadlier passions 
 yet if they were foreigners? 
 
 He pondered deeply, grasping the wheel ; the dog 
 upon the grating watched the boat, a lustrous spot to 
 the naked eye, and Julia gazed in silence at her 
 sweetheart. 
 
 " Come and hold the wheel," said he. 
 
 Still in silence witnessing distress but resolution 
 in his face, she seized the spokes, and he went to 
 work to help that open boat. There were, as you 
 know, two boats in the davits, and a gig, called the 
 captain's gig, hung by davits over the stern. Rush- 
 ing to the foremost boat, Hardy seized the empty 
 breaker out of its bows and ran with it to the scuttle- 
 butt, and, swiftly as he could, filled it. He then 
 replaced the breaker in the boat's bows. He next 
 sped down the companion-ladder, filled a tin basket 
 with bottles of beer and two bottles of rum, re- 
 turned on deck with this basket, and placed it in the 
 boat. He then fetched some tinned food, a quantity 
 of ship's biscuit and an uncooked ham, which would 
 be good eating to starving men. They were eight, 
 and he made calculations for a week's supply with 
 care. He threw a pannikin into the boat. He 
 breathed hard and fast, and his face was coloured 
 with blood, and the sweat drained from his hair to 
 his eyebrows ; for he was mad to succour and mad to 
 escape, and all the while he worked he never spoke 
 a word to the girl. 
 
 It would have been an impossible task but for the
 
 * The Boat -Full <& 309 
 
 steady flow of the sea, and the gentle yielding of 
 the ship to the caressing sway of the fold. But it 
 fell out as it was, and Hardy did it whilst Julia 
 steered, and the ship blew softly onwards, whilst the 
 white spot abaft the beam, watched by the dog, 
 gleamed like a meteor whose foam would be a little 
 disc when near. He freed the boat of its gripes 
 by his knife, a sharp blade, then, just as Layard had 
 before him, he lowered the boat by easing away 
 first the bow, then the after falls, until she was 
 water-borne, when, with a sailor's activity, he 
 passed his knife through the tackles, and the ropes 
 fell into the boat. She was liberated! and whilst 
 he filled his lungs, distressed in breath, so ardent 
 and energetic had been his toil, the boat was astern, 
 then in the ship's wake, and Julia could see her by 
 looking over the taffrail. 
 
 " They'll come up with it," said Hardy, going to 
 the girl's side, " and their overhauling her will widen 
 our distance." 
 
 " It was the only way to feed them," Julia an- 
 swered. 
 
 "One way. Have they fresh water enough? 
 Eight men ! We may want that other breaker," said 
 he with a side nod at the remaining quarter-boat. 
 ' They'll be fallen in with perhaps before sun- 
 down." 
 
 He picked up the glass and again scrutinised the 
 boat. She leapt into the lens within a quarter of a 
 mile. The man in the bows stood upright, but he 
 was no longer flourishing his wift. They were 
 heading almost into the ship's wake, and were cer- 
 tain to see the quarter-boat and understand what she 
 meant. Along the rail the heads of the men were
 
 310 <4> The Mate of the Good Ship York + 
 
 fixed like cannon-balls. Supposing they were Eng- 
 lishmen. What would they think? Hardy ground 
 his teeth and twice beat the air with a clenched 
 fist. But supposing they were Dagos. Supposing 
 he could not have acted otherwise. Life, love, 
 and hope were the inspiration of his resolution, 
 and I say he could not have acted otherwise. 
 
 It was then, happily for him and his sweetheart, 
 that the sea to windward darkened a little to a 
 pleasant freshening of breeze. The breasts aloft 
 swelled to the larger breath, but so scantily clothed 
 was the York, it was absolutely certain that if the 
 breeze scanted the boat would overhaul the ship, and 
 once those eight men got alongside the rest might 
 prove Good night ! 
 
 Again Hardy looked at the boat through the tel- 
 escope, and he cried out with the tubes at his eye: 
 
 " It's all right, Julia; they're heading dead for the 
 quarter-boat. Whether they understand or not, it's 
 all right." 
 
 He grasped the wheel and brought the ship to her 
 course and this greased her heels somewhat, for the 
 yards were trimmed for the course he was steering 
 and the sails drew bravely. Julia kept the glass to 
 her eye. 
 
 " They have lowered their sail," she cried. " They 
 are very near the boat." 
 
 It was all blank to the naked eye, and Hardy 
 searched in vain for that star whose rise might 
 have proved the malignant star of death and dis- 
 honour to them both. Again the lovers shifted 
 places. Julia held the wheel whilst Hardy directed 
 the glass at the boat. He watched the minute ma- 
 noeuvres. It was a little field of Lilliputians, but
 
 $ The Boat -Full $ 311 
 
 every figure was as clean cut in the lens as the pyg- 
 mies to the downward gazing eyes of Gulliver. The 
 two boats came and went behind and upon the sum- 
 mer swell of the sea, but not so as to baffle the marine 
 vision. The naked mast rolled and the men showed 
 plain. Thirst and famine were in their motions, and 
 Hardy sighed and gasped as he watched. He saw 
 the infuriate gesture that brought the bottle to the 
 mouth, the impassioned posture as the cracked lips 
 drained the pannikin. He witnessed avidity, col- 
 oured into horror by human need in the passage 
 of the clenched biscuit or piece of meat to the mouth. 
 It nearly broke his heart to leave them. If ever a 
 man was inspired by the compassion, the instincts, 
 and the loyalty of a sailor, it was Hardy. Yet he 
 thanked God with all his heart that they had plenty, 
 that the weather promised fair, that they had another 
 and a good boat, and that in this highway of the 
 sailing ship human help was certain if calamitous 
 destiny were not first. Hardy's eyes were moist as 
 the telescope slowly sank from his arm ; for let them 
 be Dagos, let them be Dutchmen, call those men by 
 any name you will, they were shipwrecked sailors 
 upon a lonely sea, and their appeal to the Red Flag 
 of England would have been irresistible but for the 
 helpless condition of the York. Julia saw emotion 
 in her lover's face, and caressed him with her eyes 
 as though she would soothe him with her love, and 
 never did she honour him more, nor felt a fuller 
 flow of dumb and inward gratitude to the Father 
 of all for this lifelong gift of sympathy, help, and 
 devotion. 
 
 " We shall run them out of reach of the glass," 
 said Hardy.
 
 312 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 " I can scarcely see them as it is," she answered. 
 
 " What is their story ? " he went on. " It will be 
 told because they will be saved. Yonder is one of 
 the teachings of the sea. You pass a piece of wreck ; 
 it is encrusted with the jewelry of the ocean; it is 
 girdled by a silver belt of fish. To one man it is a 
 piece of wreckage ; to another man it is a memorial, 
 lofty, sublime, and awful as a cathedral, of fire, of 
 explosion, of the beam-ended fabric with lashed fig- 
 ures in the shrouds, sunk to the foam, and blacken- 
 ing it with emergence like the iron shape dangling 
 at the finger of a gibbet upon a wintry moor that 
 foams with snow." 
 
 " Do all sailors talk in this language? " said Julia. 
 
 " Any man who can make himself understood 
 speaks well. I do not love irony." 
 
 Julia smiled archly. 
 
 " You do not love irony," she said. " Did you 
 ever love another before you loved me? " 
 
 " A man who uses the sea is shy amongst women," 
 he answered. " We are accustomed when we see a 
 green eye in thick weather winking off our port bow 
 to sing these lines : 
 
 u ' There's not so much for you to do, 
 For green to port keeps clear of you.' 
 
 I was never yet in a collision I mean. ashore." 
 
 This pleased her, and she said she would go and 
 look to the galley fire if Hardy would kindly hold 
 the wheel.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HAIL, COLUMBIA ! 
 
 LUCK was still to attend the ship's company of 
 the York luck in the shape of weather. The wind 
 took two days to change its mood, then shifted off 
 the port bow, where Hardy's metaphoric red eye 
 was winking. 
 
 The man, the dog, the watch-tackle, and the winch 
 were equal to the sudden confrontment of air, which 
 happened at daybreak when the man and the dog 
 could see, and when the girl at the wheel could see. 
 
 Of course sail was not trimmed as though the 
 York had been a frigate, as though you had fifty 
 men for a rope, when the master-mariner considers 
 himself lucky if he gets twenty-five men for a full- 
 rigged ship. Trimming sail took time; but it was 
 done. And the dog stuck like glue to the slack. 
 No need to dwell upon the discipline; it was now 
 as before, and likely to continue whilst health and 
 strength endured. The sweethearts used the hen- 
 coop alternately, and it yielded them all necessary 
 refreshment of slumber; the dog kept a lookout 
 whilst the girl steered, and still the ship's course 
 was a crow's flight for the Chops, with some hurdles 
 of parallels before her indeed ; but her march though 
 slow was conquering, and the lovers' spirits were as 
 
 313
 
 314 *$* The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 high as the dog-vane that shook its piece of bunting 
 at the main-royal masthead. 
 
 When Hardy had trimmed sail this morning he 
 sat beside the girl to rest a little. The wind was to 
 the westward of north, the sky that way was pale, 
 but the sun to starboard burnt bright, and lofty 
 ridges of cloud, very delicate, like the memory of 
 the ripple on the sands of the coast, moved stealthily 
 northwest, which signified sundry currents of air 
 of no moment, if below all gushes the favouring 
 breeze. 
 
 " We'll breakfast in a few minutes," said Hardy. 
 " I feel as if I have been swimming ten miles." 
 
 " We are in luck, George," answered Julia. 
 
 " What is the luck of the sailor? " said he. " I 
 have heard of one lucky sailor. He went to a sale 
 and bought a feather-bed. Jack in a feather-bed! 
 He turned in and his starboard bunion was worried 
 by something hard. He ripped the cover and found 
 a bag containing one hundred and forty-two Queen 
 Anne guineas. He started a public-house and died 
 worth eight thousand pounds." 
 
 " He was a sailor and deserved it," said Julia. 
 "Why do sailors hate soldiers?" 
 
 " The historian must answer that. There is a 
 reason, and it is true. You see, my dear, a sailor 
 will spend his last half-crown upon his girl, and a 
 soldier will borrow the last half-crown from his 
 girl." 
 
 "Do soldiers hate sailors? " asked Julia, laughing. 
 
 " They only meet at sea," answered Hardy, " and 
 the motion of a ship will neutralise prejudice in the 
 man who can't stand it." 
 
 In due course the galley fire was lighted, coffee
 
 $ Hail, Columbia! $> 315 
 
 was boiled, and the ship's company broke their fast. 
 The breeze hung steady, the glass spoke hopefully, 
 and Hardy found, after taking sights, that home was 
 nearer by some hundred miles than it had been yes- 
 terday. It was nine o'clock on the evening of this 
 day. The lights of heaven winked sparely through 
 an atmosphere that nevertheless was unthickened by 
 mist. The fresh wind of the noon had slackened 
 much, and the sound of the fall of the sea off the 
 bow was sloppy, as though the cook was emptying 
 buckets of stuff over the side, and indeed the noise 
 was in keeping with the sort of smoking, greasy face 
 of the sea, which rolled in knolls of soft, black oil 
 speedily out of sight, so general and closing was the 
 dusk. 
 
 Julia stood at the wheel, and the dog as usual was 
 on the forecastle head keeping a lookout. The girl 
 could distinctly hear her lover snoring in his hen- 
 coop. The magic of the ear of love runs melody 
 into the snore of the sweetheart ; to the burdened 
 marital organ the snore is not the voice of the 
 heavenly chorister. Shakespeare wonders whether 
 we dream in our sleep of death; Julia might have 
 wondered if we snored. The binnacle lamp burnt 
 brightly, so did the side-lights. The girl had been 
 sleeping whilst Hardy steered, and now stood fresh 
 and firm at the wheel, a very shadow of British girl, 
 snug in the madman's cloak ; but the faint stars knew 
 that her figure was beautiful. 
 
 Suddenly the dog began to bark; its deep note 
 rolled aft in low thunder. Julia, with her heart 
 slightly fluttering, strained her eyes to port and then 
 to starboard, believing that the dog was reporting 
 the side-light or white masthead light of a ship or
 
 316 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 steamer. But the dog continued to bark, and in the 
 midst of it, before it awoke Hardy, before she could 
 call to Hardy, a smell, an overpowering stench, 
 fumes as overwhelming as any that could rise from 
 the shallow tombs of thousands of plague-stricken 
 wretches this subduing and distracting presence 
 was in the air. 
 
 " George! George! " shrieked the girl. But she 
 could not again speak, for the filth of the breeze 
 compelled her right hand to her mouth and nostrils, 
 and the brave heart steadied the spoke with her left 
 hand only. 
 
 In a minute Hardy was beside her. " Phew ! " 
 said he, and spat. This was his comment. 
 
 The dog continued to bark. Its note had that 
 quality of alarm which makes the sailors spring as 
 for life or death to the affrighting shout of a single 
 man upon the forecastle. 
 
 " What in hell " But it might have been the 
 devil himself who stopped Hardy's mouth then, for 
 even as he spoke the ship struck something soft, and 
 slided away from it points off her course, so blubbery 
 was the thing, proper for the " ways " of a launch. 
 
 " It's up the spout this time," said Hardy. "Jump 
 to the side, Julia ; report what you see. There you 
 go, to starboard to windward, to windward ! " 
 
 He held the wheel, and the girl shrieked, " I can't 
 see for the smell." 
 
 " Hold your nose and skin your eyes, and tell me 
 what you see." 
 
 " A great deal of fire, and a black mass in the 
 midst of it lined with foam, and oh, what a horrible 
 smell!" 
 
 She came staggering to her lover's side in revolt 
 of sickened senses.
 
 $ Hail, Columbia! $ 317 
 
 " A dead whale," said Hardy, whose nose was not 
 entirely fastidious. 
 
 " Hold the wheel, dear," and he sprang to the 
 quarter and saw the thing; that is, he saw the 
 shadow, it loomed so that it might have been a 
 little island. The fire of the sea played about it 
 as the reflected lightning of the hidden storm winks 
 and flashes in the soft indigo of the ocean recess. 
 The sea caressed this floating dunghill with those 
 same white, cruel fingers with which it casts the 
 mutilated corpse ashore. 
 
 " The air sweetens," said Hardy, returning to the 
 wheel. " Go below for a nip of brandy, and bring 
 me one, dear." 
 
 And he brought the ship to her course. He did 
 not greatly like the look of the weather. For per- 
 haps an hour and a half he had been sleeping; this 
 was a good " turn in " for a sailor-man who signs 
 articles to work for the shipowner for twenty-four 
 hours in the day, a brutal and inhuman tax upon 
 suffering men, in no other walk of life to be heard 
 of. Anyhow he could not leave the ship in Julia's 
 charge with those dimly winking stars growing 
 sparer yet, with increasing moisture on the wing of 
 the wind like the early breath of a wet squall. 
 
 " I don't expect the wind to shift," said he, " but 
 it's bound to come on harder presently. Get you into 
 that hen-coop and rest your limbs if not your brain. 
 I expect I shall be wanting you before midnight." 
 
 She obeyed him as though she had been a sailor or 
 a dog, and dissolved into the black void of the hen- 
 coop. You could not see the faintest glimmer of her 
 face, nor the dimmest outline of her shape. The 
 Newfoundland had come aft and berthed itself. The
 
 318 9 The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 animal knew that when Hardy was at the wheel it 
 was its watch below. 
 
 Now the ship was under such small canvas that 
 her cloths were not more than she could stand up 
 with if .it blew half a gale from abeam or abaft the 
 beam. Those were the days of single topsails, and 
 in all three topsails a single reef had been tied by 
 the survivors of the crew in the heavy night before 
 they left for the Frenchman. It would then come 
 perhaps to a drag upon a staysail down-haul and to 
 letting go the outer jib-halliards, leaving the un- 
 furled sail to convulse itself into bulbs and bellies of 
 canvas upon the jibboom. Certainly Hardy single- 
 handed could not lay out upon the jibboom and furl 
 a big jib : he did not mean to try. 
 
 As he expected, the wind freshened, but without 
 the shift of a quarter of a point. The ship raced 
 nobly through the gloom : she blew white steam 
 from the nostrils of her bows; the white water to 
 leeward widened with her pace and flashed with the 
 emerald and diamond of the sea glow into the long, 
 the streaming, the joyous homeward-bound wake. 
 There was no more dead leviathan in the air ; it was 
 full of the salt sweetness of Swinburne's rushing sea 
 verse. But the stars were gone ; there was no light 
 upon the sea but the light of its foam. The ship was 
 plunging, the seas raced her in black curls, and burst 
 with a pallor of dawn from her side, and onward she 
 swept, bowing and rolling to the music of the bag- 
 pipes in her rigging, controlled by a single hand a 
 fearless and a valiant hand the hand of a British 
 sailor. 
 
 However, he made up his mind to " crack on " in 
 a sort of way, and the meaning of " cracking on " at
 
 $ Hail, Columbia! f 319 
 
 sea is the carrying in bad weather of more canvas 
 than the judicious would approve. I have known an 
 old skipper to furl his fore and mizzen-royal and 
 stow his flying jib every second dog-watch in dead 
 calm or catspaw. The ladies reckoned him a safe 
 man, and he made the voyage from the Thames to 
 Sydney Bay in four months. Hardy had the in- 
 stincts of a mate, and was always for carrying on; 
 but he had not much confidence in staysail and jib- 
 sheets, and at half-past eleven, seven bells of the first 
 watch, somewhat benumbed with his grip of the 
 spokes, he resolved to shorten canvas, and shouted 
 to his girl. She came out of the coop like a figure 
 from a clock. 
 
 " Is it a storm? " said she in his ear. 
 
 " Let's thank God," he answered, " like the sailor 
 in the song, that there are no chimney-pots in the 
 air. I wonder if I can trust you with this wheel? 
 It doesn't kick very much, and I sha'n't be long." 
 
 " You don't want to turn in, then? " 
 
 " Love ye, no," he answered. " Get a good hold 
 of these spokes, and I'll stand by." 
 
 He watched her, conceiving that if the ship was 
 off her course now and again it would not signify a 
 brass farthing. The wheel-chains are a good pur- 
 chase upon the tiller, and Julia's arms were strong 
 and determined with the labour she had been put to, 
 whether ashore or at sea. Young women cannot pull 
 ropes on board ship, or lift old ladies out of bed on 
 dry land, without adding strength to the muscles of 
 their arms and determination to the clutch of their 
 fingers. 
 
 Hardy stood close beside Julia ready for that kick 
 of the helm which, whilst he had stood at the wheel,
 
 320 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $> 
 
 had on three or four occasions started him out of a 
 mood of musing. Twice came the kick the blow 
 of the surge against the rudder, but the girl held on 
 and the ship swept on, and with every freshening of 
 the black roar aloft the words of the Yankee poet 
 came into Hardy's head : 
 
 " Then suddenly there burst a yell 
 That would have shock'd and stagger'd hell." 
 
 " You'll do," said Hardy. 
 
 He called the dog and they went forward. There 
 is no good in talking of jiggers, down-hauls, sheets, 
 halliards, winches, and such things to landsmen. 
 Enough, then, if it be said that by first letting go 
 and then by hauling down, Hardy, helped by the 
 dog and the jigger which is another word for the 
 watch-tackle succeeded in easing the ship of two 
 or three pinions of staysails and jib. The jigger 
 manned the down-haul stoutly, and the dog stuck 
 like glue to all slack he was asked to concern him- 
 self with. The sails were left to flap and slat and 
 thunder. What could Hardy do? If the canvas 
 went to pieces they must carry the ship home with- 
 out it; if it held, there were the dog, the jigger, and 
 the man to rehoist it. A mate's ear does not love the 
 noise of slatting canvas, and Hardy as he stood in 
 the bows guessed with something of helpless disgust 
 that the jib-boom was buckling a bit. The foretop- 
 mast staysail and the inner jib were roaring like a 
 thunder-storm, and a living gale swept out of the 
 iron curve of the bolt-rope of the fore-course. 
 
 It was white water often to the figure-head, the 
 midnight magnificence and wrath of foam, the
 
 f Hail, Columbia! $ 321 
 
 stormy bellowing of the recoiling and shattered sea. 
 Heavenly Father ! to think of this rushing, shadowy 
 structure, this clipper fabric, whose stern was out of 
 sight in darkness from the bows, controlled by a 
 girl! 
 
 Hardy ran aft to take the wheel, and the dutiful 
 dog trotted beside him. How did that night pass? 
 In simple alternations of coop and wheel. 
 
 It was not to be a long night; the business of the 
 half-gale did not begin until eight bells of the first 
 watch, and it was nearly two bells before Hardy had 
 made an end with his staysails and jib. It was not 
 perhaps in those days so extremely necessary as it is 
 in these to keep a bright lookout for ships' lights, 
 simply because the steam vessel was comparatively 
 few, and the sailing ship was not greatly accustomed 
 to interpret her presence by the red and green wink. 
 The flourish of the lamp hastily plucked out of the 
 binnacle was deemed as good a flare as an empty 
 flaming tar-barrel, and, indeed, it sometimes sufficed. 
 Collision in the days of timber was not collision in 
 the days of steel. Colliding ships ground away each 
 other's channels amidst the benedictions of the fore- 
 castle and the poop, and the spluttering expostula- 
 tions of crackling spars on high. Now 'tis touch and 
 sink, so ingenious and preserving is the water-tight 
 bulkhead, so grand in assurance of the salvation 
 of precious life is the keel-up boat, secured beyond 
 all release of knife or tool to the skid. Everything 
 is riveted, and everything goes, and it takes half a 
 dozen gunboats to sink a wooden wreck maliciously 
 floating in the track of the supreme expression of 
 the modern shipwright's art. 
 
 The break of day found Hardy at the wheel.
 
 322 * The Mate of the Good Ship York <& 
 
 But he had slept since he was last heard of, and 
 Julia had stood her trick, kick or no kick, whilst 
 Sailor kept watch on the forecastle head. The wind 
 had greatly fallen, the sea had greatly fallen, and the 
 complexion of fine weather was in the dawn. With 
 the rising of the sun the weather promised beauty 
 and splendour : blue seas far as the eye could reach 
 breaking in foam, masses of sailing cloud in the sky 
 like vast puffs of vapour from the funnel of a loco- 
 motive; and right astern, a film of pearl in the 
 windy blue, hung a sail. 
 
 It was not seen for some time by Hardy, nor by 
 the dog that slumbered in its kennel ; but when Julia 
 came out of her coop to the summons of the sun, she 
 instantly saw the sail and called and pointed; and 
 whilst she held the wheel the dog sprang on to the 
 taffrail and barked, and Hardy fetched the glass. 
 
 A cloud of canvas coming up astern hand over 
 hand. Topsails, topgallantsails, royals, and skysails ; 
 the wind fresh off the beam; a topgallant-stunsail 
 yearning from its boom end : the beautiful vision, a 
 leaning light with the blue sea in foam betwixt it and 
 the York, and beyond, the immeasurable heavens 
 sloping past the working rim of the deep. 
 
 " A Yankee," said Hardy, putting down the glass. 
 " Skysails why not moonsails, and angels' foot- 
 stools? D'ye know that you can sometimes stop 
 a ship by cracking on ? I've hove the log and found 
 her doing ten : thought to get more out of her ; set 
 royals and topmast-stunsails : hove the log and 
 found her doing nine. Why? Because a ship isn't 
 built to sail on her side." 
 
 The galley fire was lighted; coffee was boiled; 
 the sun shone brightly, and the ship astern was
 
 $ Hail, Columbia ! $ 323 
 
 coming up fast. Whilst Julia held the wheel, Hardy 
 mastheaded the red flag of our country at the gaff 
 end, and there it streamed, meteoric, as in the song. 
 
 " It is like being in the Docks to see it," cried 
 Julia. 
 
 "It is like feeling that there are no bally Dutch- 
 men in the world ! " answered Hardy. 
 
 They breakfasted in a manner afore-described, 
 and often watched the ship astern. She was a black 
 spot under a white cloud. 
 
 " Undoubtedly a Yankee," said Hardy, with his 
 mouth full of white biscuit. " She'll wonder at us, 
 and what will she do ? " 
 
 " They must not help us," said Julia. 
 
 " Fancy her sailors sparkling with the jewels in 
 the safe, fancy her skipper and mates singing out 
 orders with heavy gold chains round their necks, and 
 diamond earrings in their Yankee lobes! I do love 
 the Yankee captain; he stands at the break of the 
 poop and watches his mate kicking a man's brains 
 out of his skull, and he yells out, ' Heave him over 
 the side whilst he's breathing.' It is all sweetness 
 and light aboard the Yankeeman. Some of these 
 days the great Republic will awaken to recognition 
 of the claims of her merchant sailors. The immortal 
 Dana did his best, which was noble and lasting. 
 But oh, the crimes, the cruelties, the murders which 
 make the Yankee ship of trade a bitterer hell for 
 men than the hell of the monk's invention ! " 
 
 But a stern chase is a long chase, albeit you are 
 under single-reef topsails and fore-course only, 
 whilst t'other heaps your wake with skysails and 
 stunsails. It was half-past nine before the ship astern 
 was on the York's quarter; a black barque with an
 
 324 The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 almost straight stem, taking the seas under her swell- 
 ing heights with the springs and leaps of a deer 
 chased by the hound. 
 
 Her colour, if it flew, was invisible as yet, but her 
 nationality was as certain as a goatee. Jonathan was 
 at the helm and Jonathan was at the prow, and 
 Hardy easily guessed that the condition of the York 
 flying the flag of a rich relation was puzzling the 
 intelligence of the gentleman whose legs are repre- 
 sented as clothed with the bunting of Stripes and 
 Stars. Yes, Jonathan was puzzled, and like Paul 
 Pry meant to intrude, whilst hoping that he didn't. 
 On a sudden she clewed up skysails, royals, and 
 topgallantsails, boom-ended her studdingsails, and 
 came surging with little more than the speed of the 
 York on to the clipper's quarter within easy hail. 
 A man stood on the rail holding on by the mizzen- 
 rigging. No flag flew at the gaff end, but the word 
 Yankee was writ in letters as big as the barque her- 
 self. The figure grasped an old-fashioned weapon 
 for the conveyance of sound a speaking-trumpet ; 
 he put it to his lips, and whilst a small crowd of men 
 on the barque's forecastle, attired in dungaree and 
 vary-coloured headgear, gazed at the York with the 
 steadfast stare of sheep at a barking dog in a field, 
 the man with the trumpet delivered his mind thus : 
 " Ho, the ship ahoy ! What ship are you ? " 
 Hardy, with one hand to his mouth, Julia mean- 
 while steering, roared back : 
 
 " The York, of London; bound to London." 
 This was all he said. He did not inquire the 
 barque's name; it was no business of his to know 
 it. But she was forging ahead, and the name under 
 the counter in long white letters grew visible: 
 Columbia Boston.
 
 Hail, Columbia! 325 
 
 " Where's your crew ? " shouted the man with the 
 trumpet. 
 
 " On deck," was the answer. 
 
 A man standing by the figure on the rail took the 
 speaking-trumpet and replaced it by a telescope, 
 which the figure levelled at Julia. 
 
 " He's admiring you," said Hardy. 
 
 " I dare say the crew on that forecastle are laugh- 
 ing," she exclaimed. 
 
 " Sailors are too well fed to laugh easily," replied 
 Hardy. " Oily men, fat men, rich men, seldom 
 laugh." 
 
 All between the two speeding vessels was the rush 
 of the white surge, and the ships seemed to salute 
 each other like acquaintances as they bowed in stately 
 rolls and sang the song of the shrouds one to the 
 other, for it is all singing at sea singing or sing- 
 ing out. 
 
 Suddenly when the barque had drawn on to the 
 weather-bow of the York she was luffed up into 
 the wind, and the weather-half of her loftier canvas 
 was aback. 
 
 " They mean to visit us," said Hardy. 
 
 " Not to stay, I hope," said Julia, anxiously. 
 
 In a few moments some figures broke from the 
 barque's forecastle crowd and ran aft, and a white 
 boat of a whaling pattern, sharpened stem and stern, 
 sank from its davits with six men in her, and the 
 man who had given the telescope to the figure on 
 the rail steered the boat. 
 
 Hardy put his helm down and shook the wind 
 out of his small canvas, and presently the boat was 
 hooked on alongside, and an American sailor a 
 chief mate clambered over the rail on to the deck 
 of the York.
 
 326 -^ The Mate of the Good Ship York -^ 
 
 It is bad taste to imitate accents, or oddities of 
 phrase, or nasal deliverances. This Yankee mate 
 then shall speak as our first cousin does. 
 
 " Do you mean to say," said he, touching his cap 
 as he approached Hardy and Julia, " that you and 
 this lady " he bowed to her " are your ship's 
 company ? " 
 
 " No," answered Hardy. " We have that dog : he 
 is worth ten foreigners, and we have a watch-tackle 
 and a winch." 
 
 " And you are carrying this ship to London 
 alone?" 
 
 " Ay." 
 
 The Yankee mate looked a little stupefied, glanced 
 along the deck, then up at the Red Ensign, then at 
 the girl who stood beneath it. 
 
 " Where are you from ? " he asked. 
 
 " See here," said Hardy; " I intend to spin my 
 own yarn when I get ashore, and I do not mean that 
 it shall either be diminished or exaggerated by re- 
 port. This lady and I propose to carry this ship 
 home alone, and that flag flies in vain if we fail." 
 
 " Well, I am surprised," said the mate of the 
 barque. " It must be very uncomfortable. Your 
 outer jib is slatting, and your staysails want stow- 
 ing. Can we help you ? " 
 
 " I am very much obliged," replied Hardy, " but 
 before you call your men aboard this lady will kindly 
 bring from the cabin a bottle of grog and glasses, 
 that we may drink to the good voyage of the 
 Columbia and to the increasing greatness of your 
 magnificent country." 
 
 " I am willing," answered the mate, and as Julia 
 disappeared he exclaimed, " Is she your wife, sir ? "
 
 $ Hail, Columbia! $ 327 
 
 " No ; she is my sweetheart ; she is the daughter 
 of a retired commander in our Royal Navy, and if 
 God suffers us to reach home she will be my wife." 
 
 " She is a very fine young woman," said the mate. 
 
 " She has a splendid spirit," answered Hardy, 
 " and she is a very fine young woman as you say." 
 
 Julia knew the ways of the under-stewardess, and 
 was quickly on deck again with a tray of glasses, 
 cold water, and a bottle of brandy. She mixed the 
 spirits, each man saying " when," and took a little 
 drop herself, just enough to be sincere with in her 
 good wishes. The Yankee mate did not seem to 
 greatly trouble himself that the figure on the barque 
 undoubtedly the skipper should keep the tele- 
 scope bearing upon them. With one hand on the 
 spoke Hardy, with the other hand, held aloft the 
 glass of grog, and said : 
 
 " Here's to your beautiful barque, and to the noble 
 country from which she hails ! " 
 
 He drank and so did Julia, and the mate before 
 drinking said : 
 
 " Here's to the Red Flag of Old England, and to 
 the fine girls who steer ships under it ! " 
 
 Julia laughed merrily, and thought the mate better 
 looking now than she had at first believed. He was 
 a little sallow, a little long-faced, and on the whole 
 what the Americans call slab-sided; but he had the 
 eyes of an honest man and the looks of a good 
 sailor, and if his name were inscribed on the dome 
 of St. Paul's nothing better could be said of it. 
 
 " My captain will be getting impatient," said the 
 mate. " He'll wonder that you don't take assist- 
 ance." 
 
 " If your men will hoist that canvas for me," 
 answered Hardy, " I shall ask no more help."
 
 328 & The Mate of the Good Ship York * 
 
 " What a beautiful dog is that ! " said the Yankee 
 mate, hanging in the wind, so much did he relish this 
 novel rencounter and brief association in mid-Atlan- 
 tic with a young lady of incomparable figure. " I 
 would be the happiest man in America if I owned 
 that dog." 
 
 " All America would not purchase him," answered 
 Hardy ; " his name is Sailor, and he has the spirit of 
 Nelson. He helps me and the watch-tackle to brace 
 up, keeps a lookout like a madman in search of the 
 philosopher's stone, never gets drunk, and always 
 says his prayers before he turns in. Will you have 
 another drop of brandy ? " 
 
 " No more, sir, I thank you." 
 
 Saying which the mate went to the side and hailed 
 the boat. Hardy kept the York in the wind and the 
 barque was already in the wind, and neither vessel 
 therefore had any way to speak of. The boat, well 
 fended off, slobbered alongside, chucked and dived, 
 spat and hissed like a kitten sporting with its mother. 
 To the cry of the mate four men sprang into the 
 chains, and were on deck with the activity of Britons 
 boarding a Frenchman. Fine-looking fellows they 
 were, three of them Englishmen who had been 
 forced by Great Britain's love of foreign labour to 
 earn their bread under the Stripes and Stars. They 
 stared about them with sheepish grins because a 
 woman was hard by. Had the girl been a British 
 skipper their smileless faces would have grown as 
 long as wet hammocks. 
 
 " Fill a drink for them, Julia," said Hardy. 
 
 Another glass was fetched, four glasses brimmed, 
 and with a " Well, here's luck, sir," down went the 
 doses through throats to which the aroma of cognac
 
 9> Hail, Columbia! f> 329 
 
 was as strange a bliss as heaven to a newly arrived 
 soul. 
 
 "Shall we make more sail for you?" said the 
 mate. 
 
 " Not a cloth, thank ye," answered Hardy at the 
 wheel. 
 
 So the mate and the men went forward and 
 hoisted the outer jib and scientifically belayed the 
 sheet, then lay aft, and did likewise with the stay- 
 sails, hauled taut the braces, and generally made 
 things snugger than they had found them. The dog 
 went with them and watched their conduct with 
 admiration. 
 
 " Well," said the mate, approaching Hardy with 
 an outstretched hand, " we have done all you wish 
 us to do, and I am sorry you won't let us do more. 
 We will report you." 
 
 " I hope you won't," answered Hardy ; " the own- 
 ers will send out a tug in search of us, and then it's 
 good night to my salvage." 
 
 " I twig," responded the mate, with a grave smile. 
 " Yes, it shall be made apparent to the Old Man," 
 meaning his captain, for at sea the captain would be 
 called Old Man by the sailors if he were a beardless 
 youth of twenty-two. 
 
 He shook hands with Hardy, and their grasp was 
 cordial. He shook hands with Julia, and admired 
 her and praised her with a look. Then the five 
 tumbled over the side like rats from a sinking ship, 
 gained the boat, and went away with a smoking 
 stem to the barque. Julia stepped to the rail to 
 watch, and when the men saw her they cheered; 
 three times they cheered, and the mate in the stern- 
 sheets lifted his cap and cheered whilst Julia
 
 330 <& The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 flourished her hand. There is much good-fellowship 
 at sea, and English-speaking sailors are as brothers 
 when they meet. 
 
 " Those men do not look as though they were 
 starved and kicked," said Julia, returning to Hardy. 
 
 " If every ship kicked and starved her sailors there 
 would be no ships afloat," replied Hardy. " All the 
 same, there is much starvation and kicking at sea." 
 
 " How beautiful that ship looks ! " said Julia; " I 
 never saw a vessel's canvas shine so brightly. How 
 delicate are the shadows at the edges! A sailing 
 ship owes its life to the wind, and all the spirit of the 
 sea is in her. Steamers are full of coals and ashes, 
 they blacken the air with disgusting smoke, their life 
 is compulsion, they are driven by a wheel or a screw. 
 The sailing ship floats on wings like the sea-bird." 
 
 " All is compulsion," exclaimed Hardy, watching 
 the keen-ended boat as she foamed sweeping with a 
 lightning flash of wet oars to the sun, to the mother 
 she belonged to ; " compulsion hurled the universe 
 into being, and everything is driven by it. I do not 
 like to be compelled to be born or to die. I do 
 not like to be compelled to carry a hump or to grow 
 bald or hideous with age. But I am compelled into 
 these enormities and there's no getting away from it. 
 You must hold this wheel whilst I dip our flag when 
 they get their boat to the tackles." 
 
 This did not take long to happen. The sweet- 
 hearts watched the white boat rising out of the water, 
 and when the little fabric was hanging at its davits 
 the American flag soared heavenward, streaming to 
 the gaff end. 
 
 " Hold the wheel," said Hardy, and Julia grasped 
 the spokes.
 
 jp Hail, Columbia! $ 331 
 
 He sprang to the signal-halliards and lowered the 
 flag, just as you pull off your hat when you say good- 
 bye. The American colour sank in graceful beauty 
 and soared again, and again sank the Red Ensign to 
 be again gaff-ended, and thrice did these two vessels 
 salute each other and then belayed their halliards, 
 leaving their banners flying. 
 
 A faint cheer came from the American vessel, and 
 Hardy sprang into the mizzen-rigging and flourished 
 his cap. Then the Yankee fell off and rilled a rap- 
 full ; her wake throbbed in pulses of foam under her 
 counter, fountain-bursts of sparkling stars of brine 
 flashed off her bows, every stitch of canvas was 
 mastheaded, and away she went with yearning stun- 
 sail, a leaning vision of transcendent beauty a 
 spirit now, for she hath long since departed from the 
 waters which she walked, and remains but a memory 
 to the old. 
 
 Hardy went to the wheel, put his helm a little up, 
 and the York started again for home under steady 
 curves of canvas. 
 
 For two days after this the ship's company of 
 three had their hands full. It came on to blow 
 a strong breeze right ahead : they managed to brace 
 up, and went staggering away to the west and north. 
 It was impossible for so slender a company to put 
 the ship about; neither could Hardy wear her, for 
 who was to square and then brace round the yards 
 to the hard-over helm ? Every wind then must be a 
 fair wind for that ship; she must splutter through 
 it as best she could, and all that the two brave hearts 
 could pray for was that it should never blow so hard 
 as to dismast them or burst the canvas into rags. 
 
 Julia was now a practised as well as a fearless
 
 332 ^ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 helmswoman, and Hardy was able to get the sleep 
 he needed; she too enjoyed plenty of intervals. In 
 those two days it did not blow fiercer than a two- 
 reef breeze, and Hardy eased the ship by keeping 
 her a little away. For it mattered nothing to him or 
 Julia if the passage home extended into months so 
 long as they got home at last.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE CAMILLA OF THE SEA 
 
 WITHIN ten weeks of the date of the sailing of 
 the clipper ship York from the River Thames the 
 vessel was about two hundred miles to the west- 
 ward of the coast of Portugal. It was a leaden day. 
 The ocean was breathing deeply after a long con- 
 flict with the gale. The swell ran in sullen masses, 
 lifting with the lazy sickness of oil, but the breeze 
 was light and scarcely creased the moving knolls, 
 and the shadow of cloud hung like tapestry in a 
 darkened chamber, low down in ragged skirts upon 
 the winding line of the sea. 
 
 The ship looked wrecked aloft. All her spars 
 were standing indeed, but her mizzentopsail hung 
 in rags, and the bolt ropes made a skeleton of the 
 fabric aft. The foresail was split in halves, and with 
 each weary roll gaped like a cut in an india-rubber 
 ball when pressed. Rags of the outer jib fluttered 
 from lacing or hanks. The maintopgallantsail had 
 been blown loose and had gone to pieces, and was 
 shaking from the yard in lengths like Irish pennants 
 in the rigging. The ship was rolling drearily, and 
 the channels would often slap white thunder out 
 of the sulky brow of the swell, and she groaned 
 greatly throughout her length and made some dim 
 sound of lamentation aloft. 
 
 333
 
 334 ** The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 Hardy stood alone at the wheel. He was fresh 
 from a long and desperate fight with the sea, and 
 you read the character of the struggle in his face. 
 His beard was a week old : in the hollows under his 
 eyes lay a little whiteness, the encrustation of salt; 
 this gave him the ghastly look of the life-boat man 
 who steps ashore after standing two nights and a 
 day by a stranded ship with frozen figures in her 
 shrouds. His hair was a little long, and this gave 
 a something of wildness to his aspect. His looks 
 were haggard, his eyes wanting in their usual lustre, 
 his lips were pale; he looked worn. For ten days 
 he and Julia had been fighting a gale of wind. In 
 ten days they had managed to obtain but two or 
 three hours sleep in a day of twenty-four hours. 
 But happily for them it never blew so hard but that 
 they could keep their course shaped for the English 
 Channel. It never blew so hard that a ship well 
 manned would have needed to heave to. It came in 
 roaring weight upon the quarter, and one midnight 
 the mizzentopsail burst in a blast of cannon, and 
 shortly after the maintopgallantsail was blown into 
 shreds out of the gaskets, and next morning, in the 
 screaming fury of a bleaching squall, the outer jib 
 flew into pennons from the stay, and the veil of the 
 fore-course was rent asunder. But the reefed main- 
 topsail, the foretopmast-staysail, and the inner jib 
 were as faithful to their duty as Tom Bowline in the 
 song, and the ship rushed on in foam to the figure- 
 head, whitening acres of the sea abaft her, passing 
 a brig hove to in the haze; passed by a ship that 
 would not stay to speak; passed by a Fruiter 
 schooner from the Western Islands, whose spring 
 over the surge was the glance of the albatross, whose
 
 $ The Camilla of the Sea t 335 
 
 envanishment in the haze ahead, into which the York 
 was for ever rushing, was the extinction of a meteor 
 in a cloud. 
 
 And now the gale was gone the sea would shortly 
 smooth its panting breast ; it was the early forenoon. 
 Hardy called the dog, but he did not exert the 
 powerful voice that was familiar to Julia. 
 
 The Newfoundland came out of its kennel and 
 looked up in affectionate expectation at the sailor. 
 
 " Go below and bring her up ! " said Hardy, 
 pointing, and the dog perfectly understanding dis- 
 appeared down the companionway. 
 
 His hands were almost raw with grasping the 
 spokes. His arms were almost lifeless with their 
 long resistance to the mulish tug of the wheel-chains 
 in response to the kick of the rudder. His feet 
 ached with standing, knots seemed to have been 
 tied in the muscles of his legs ; but in the gauntness 
 of his looks was visible the spirit of a noble heart, 
 and there was no better or more fearless sailor in 
 the world than that grim, unshorn figure that stood 
 alone at the helm of that reeling ship. 
 
 You will think it strange that a man, a woman, 
 and a dog should have brought a big, full-rigged 
 ship in safety down to the present hour through 
 some thunderous Atlantic parallels. Yet this ship's 
 adventure is not so strange to me as the mysterious 
 good fortune of the ocean-tramp of to-day that 
 washes through the Bay of Biscay without her 
 funnel, and quietly discharges her cargo without 
 any one feeling one penny the worse. Take, for 
 instance, the second mate of an ocean-tramp. He 
 walks the bridge; there are three foreign seamen 
 in his watch, one of whom steers the ship, whilst
 
 336 $ The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 the other two paint her. By secret compulsion, 
 well understood by the owner and the captain of 
 the ship, the second mate quits the bridge and helps 
 the two sailors to paint the ship. Who looks after 
 the ship whilst the person in charge of her paints? 
 The ship herself. 
 
 Or the same second mate may be on the bridge in 
 the first watch; the foreign sailor at the wheel has 
 been labouring almost continuously at deck-work 
 through the greater portion of the day. The second 
 mate for convenience has set the ship's course by 
 a star. Suddenly he finds the star sliding slowly 
 abeam. He rushes to the wheel and beholds the 
 helmsman standing erect, and asleep. The second 
 mate shakes the fellow furiously, and shouts, " Hard 
 a-starboard ! " and the sleepy foreigner, who scarcely 
 understands the commands of the helm in English, 
 tries to port by every spoke until he is stopped by 
 the second mate's boot. 
 
 Is not the voyage of our every-day ocean-tramp 
 more wonderful in the unrevealed conditions of the 
 life of the staggering tank than this story of a full- 
 rigged ship worked by a English seaman, an English 
 girl, a Newfoundland dog, a watch-tackle, and a 
 winch? I served for eight years at sea as a sailor, 
 and I venture to say that the tramp is far more 
 wonderful than this ship. 
 
 Sailor knew his business, and in a few minutes 
 Julia arrived on deck. She looked ill and worn. 
 Her straw hat was beginning to show like the end 
 of a long voyage; her dress would have made an 
 ill figure of her in Piccadilly. But you saw all 
 that was necessary of spirit and resolution in her 
 eyes.
 
 f The Camilla of the Sea $ 337 
 
 " Julia," said Hardy, " the pumps suck with me. 
 I feel worn out. I can't stand at this wheel any 
 longer, and there would be no good in your attempt- 
 ing to hold it. I'll secure the helm, and the ship 
 must take her chance. It'll be a dead calm before 
 long, and we have come to a moment when a great 
 deal must be left to fortune. Look yonder ! " 
 
 He pointed on the quarter where streaks of fine 
 weather were expanding and lifting, lines and spaces 
 of silver blue irradiating the ragged gloom of the 
 firmament which was moving ponderously and 
 slowly northwest. 
 
 " You will find it cold," continued Hardy. " Go 
 and wrap yourself up in the captain's cloak whilst 
 I secure the wheel." 
 
 Before he had secured the helm the girl returned 
 apparelled as commanded, for to her his word was 
 law. He then sank down in a chair near the wheel 
 with his chin upon his breast, and the girl went 
 forward to boil a kettle of water. 
 
 She remained forward until some hot coffee was 
 ready, and when she came aft with it she found 
 her sweetheart sound asleep. It is not love that 
 disturbs the sleeping sailor. It is love that watches 
 and shields the repose of love, as the guardian angel 
 the slumber of the baby. Julia looked at Hardy. 
 How gaunt and hollow ! How grim and bristly with 
 the week's growth ! Yet how peaceful in sleep, how 
 manly in look, how dear to her; oh, how dear to 
 her by loyal devotion, by beautiful honour, by self- 
 respect, by his fear and his love of God! 
 
 She sat on the deck beside him and drank a little 
 coffee, and the dog lay at her feet. The helm was 
 paralysed by the rope which secured the wheel, and
 
 338 *> The Mate of the Good Ship York & 
 
 the ship was slowly knocked by the head into the 
 hollow of the swell ; the topsail was aback, and the 
 ship lay rolling quietly on the quieting folds with 
 streamers of canvas swaying from the yard and 
 from the stay. 
 
 Julia continued to sit by her sleeping lover's side 
 for more than half an hour, leaving him once only 
 to see to the galley fire. When again she arose to 
 attend to the fire the dog stood up and shook 
 himself and sprang upon the taffrail to take a look 
 around, and before Julia had stepped ten paces the 
 noble animal was sounding in deep tones his report 
 of a ship in sight. 
 
 The noise awoke Hardy, who started and stood 
 up, and Julia stayed where she was to look at 
 the sea. 
 
 Nearly right abeam, in the midst of the lifting 
 bright weather whose suffusion of radiance was 
 over the mastheads, was visible the feathering of 
 a steamer's smoke. 
 
 " It is something coming our way," said Hardy to 
 Julia, and he took the glass, and pointed it. 
 
 His hands trembled, and he steadied the tubes by 
 grasping the vang of the gaff with them. After 
 a long look Julia was at his side he said : 
 
 " She rises fast. By her square yards I take her 
 to be a man-of-war. If she is British she will be the 
 help I have sometimes prayed for." 
 
 He put down the glass, bent on the Red Ensign 
 Jack down, and ran it aloft. 
 
 " I will get you some hot coffee," said Julia. "Do 
 you feel rested a little ? " 
 
 " I am good for an eight hours' spell," he replied, 
 but he did not look so,
 
 $ The Camilla of the Sea 339 
 
 She went forward, and he watched the approach- 
 ing steamer, and the dog watched her also. When 
 the girl returned with a pannikin of hot coffee 
 Hardy had more news to give her. He first drank, 
 then lighted a pipe, and he told her that the ship 
 abeam, whose paddle-wheels had by this time slapped 
 her hull into clear view, was undoubtedly a British 
 man-of-war, and to judge by her course she was 
 either from the Cape de Verde or direct from Rio, or 
 some port on the eastern coast of South America. 
 
 " How do you know she is British? " asked Julia. 
 
 " By every token of yards squared by lifts and 
 braces, by white bunt, and something white at the 
 gaff end." 
 
 " Can you distinguish her flag? " 
 
 " It is a speck of light, but I know what it means." 
 
 " Will you accept help from her? " inquired Julia. 
 
 " Of course I will," he answered. " The Ad- 
 miralty do not claim salvage, or they so hedge about 
 the claim as to make the claimant's case prohibitory." 
 
 " How will she help us? " said the girl. 
 
 " Either by towing or sending men. But I doubt 
 if she will tow," answered Hardy. " She may not 
 have enough coal. She may be in a hurry to get 
 home. The sailor is always in a hurry God help 
 him and often when he gets home he finds the 
 canary dead in the cage." 
 
 " We have no canary to greet us with its corpse," 
 said Julia. 
 
 She picked up the glass, and inspected the ap- 
 proaching vessel. And so the time was whiled away 
 until the steamer was close on the York's quarter, 
 her paddle-wheels ceased to revolve, and now all 
 about her could easily be understood without the 
 glass.
 
 340 *$* The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 She was one of that class of naval steamers which 
 still survive (in aspect at least), at the date of the 
 composition of this story, in the Royal Yacht, fa- 
 miliar in the Solent. She had a square stern, embel- 
 lished with gilded mouldings and sparkling with 
 windows. She had yellow paddle-boxes, a tall black 
 hull with a few square gunports of a side. She was 
 a barque, though they tried to make her look like a 
 ship by fixing square yards without canvas on her 
 mizzenmast and fidded topmast, which was a brig- 
 antine's mainmast with its crosstrees. For a full- 
 rigged ship must have fidded topmast and fidded 
 topgallantmast and royalmast, and if she has not 
 these you may call her what you like but she is not 
 a ship. 
 
 The steamer was H.M.S. Magicienne, bound from 
 Rio to Devonport, having halted at the Cape de 
 Verde for coal. She was full of men, as the Navy 
 ship usually is. Here and there she was spotted by 
 the red coat of a marine. She sparkled to the risen 
 fine weather, and the sea was now blue to both the 
 ships, though northwest it breathed in leaden 
 shadow. She dipped her visible wheel in foam. 
 The colour of her country trembled in handkerchief- 
 size at her gaff end, and her pennon streamed in a 
 line of silk. An officer stood upon the paddle-box 
 and hailed the York. Hardy thought he could 
 answer, and tried to do so, but found that his voice 
 would not carry. Indeed he had been overburdened, 
 and every function was bowed and humped. 
 
 To make himself understood he shook his head 
 and pointed to his mouth, and flew the signal of "No 
 voice " by pantomime. The trill of a whistle could 
 be heard. In a few moments moments are min-
 
 $ The Camilla of the Sea $ 341 
 
 utes, minutes are hours on board the ship of war 
 with hundreds of a crew, as compared with the 
 moments, minutes, and hours aboard a ship of trade 
 with thirty of a crew a boat-full of men with 
 something glittering in the stern-sheets sank to the 
 water at the steamer's side, and, as though but one 
 oar was wielded at either gunwale, the boat came 
 with flashful iteration of feathered blade, a pulse of 
 sparkling locomotion each side of her, and the some- 
 thing that glittered astern beside the coxswain en- 
 larged swiftly into the proportions of a midshipman 
 twenty years old. 
 
 He gained the deck with the scrambling bounds 
 of a kangaroo as he sprang from the rail saluting 
 the ship with some convulsion of thumb near the 
 bottom button of his waistcoat. His freckled face 
 was well bred; his looks had the ardency of the 
 youthful British sailor. You felt that here was a 
 young man, perhaps an honourable, perhaps a lord, 
 who at the call of duty would do his " bit," and do 
 it well. 
 
 He stared hard at the girl whilst he walked slap 
 up to Hardy. 
 
 " What's the matter with this ship? " said he, and 
 his accost made Hardy feel as though he were a 
 north-country Geordie skipper with an auld wife in 
 the companion-hatch darning his stockings. 
 
 " I am stumpended with work," said Hardy, "and 
 must sit, or I shall fall." And he sat down. 
 
 " You look like the end of a long voyage," said the 
 midshipman. 
 
 " And you look as if the roast beef of Old Eng- 
 land smokes in the gunroom," answered Hardy. 
 
 " So help me God, then," cried the midshipman
 
 342 $> The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 with heat, " nothing has fed us since Rio but salt 
 horse. Where's your crew ? " and he looked at the 
 girl without greatly admiring her, for Julia was very 
 draggled and broken about the hat, and dejected 
 about the hair and white and worn, and she knew 
 she was all this with a girl's distress. 
 
 " The crew are before you," replied Hardy, lan- 
 guidly pointing at the dog. 
 
 " What do you want ? " said the midshipman, 
 directing his eyes aloft. 
 
 " The help of the nation represented by your ship 
 of state," answered Hardy. 
 
 The midshipman, who was a gentleman, perceived 
 that the grim, unshorn, labour-wearied man on the 
 chair was a gentleman, whatever might be his rating 
 aboard a merchantman, and his manner changed. 
 
 " You are in a very odd situation," said he. 
 " What a magnificent dog ! What is your story, that 
 I may return and report it to the captain ? " 
 
 It took Hardy ten minutes to relate the ship's 
 adventure, and the midshipman listened to it with 
 parted lips, just as his face would overhang a thrill- 
 ing novel which is true with all those touches that 
 make the world akin. 
 
 " Well," said he when Hardy had finished, " I 
 always thought going into the Navy was going to 
 sea, but that's the real flag of adventure," he added, 
 with a glance at the inverted ensign. ' You want 
 help and deserve it, and I'll go to the ship, and 
 report." 
 
 He touched his cap with a look of pitying admira- 
 tion a* Julia. It was not the admiration of a man 
 for a pretty face, but for the heart of a lioness. 
 
 The boat left the York and Hardy continued to
 
 f The Camilla of the Sea $ 343 
 
 sit, and Julia stood beside him. It was fine weather 
 above the fore-royal truck, and the gloom was thin- 
 ning in the northwest. Where the brightness had 
 broken the sea was darkening its blue; a breeze 
 was coming up that way, and it would prove a home- 
 ward bound breeze to the York, with a sparkling sun 
 to dry her and to cheer her. 
 
 " I do not think that midshipman greatly respects 
 the Merchant Service," said Julia. 
 
 " Midshipmen occasionally condescend to us," 
 answered Hardy, " but the majority of naval officers 
 have good sense, and wherever there is good sense 
 our flag is respected, because the naval officer has 
 read history and sometimes contributes to it." 
 
 The girl looked at the steamer and the boat that 
 was foaming to her to its dazzling line of oars. 
 
 "It is a fine service!" said Hardy, taking the 
 steamer in from streaming pennon to the dip of the 
 red-tongued wheel. " I might just as easily have 
 been there as here. One is the butterfly rich with 
 the wing of the peacock tail; the other is the plain 
 white butterfly " he looked afloat " that blows 
 like a piece of paper about the summer garden. But 
 deprive them of their wings and you'll find their 
 bodies very much alike." 
 
 " What are they going to do? " said Julia. 
 
 " We shall soon find out," answered Hardy. 
 " British men-of-war are not accustomed to keep 
 people long waiting to find out." 
 
 Though the ships lay at a fair seaworthy distance 
 from each other, men and matters were visible to the 
 naked eye aboard either. 
 
 Hardy saw the midshipman conversing with the 
 commander on the bridge. He did not choose to
 
 344 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York $ 
 
 level a glass, it might be deemed impertinent, but he 
 saw the commander lift a binocular to his eyes in 
 evident wonder; certainly the gallant officer had 
 never heard a stranger story of the sea. Officialism 
 could not neutralise curiosity, and the man, the girl, 
 and the dog being within easy reach of the sight 
 helped by the magnifying lens, the commander 
 watched whilst the midshipman talked. 
 
 What was to happen was to be speedily under- 
 stood. The pipe shrilled and trilled, kits and ham- 
 mocks were flung into the cutter, and in a few 
 minutes the large boat containing twenty-one men 
 and a warrant officer came alongside. Twelve men 
 climbed out of her into the ship, first throwing up 
 to a few who had preceded them their sea wardrobes 
 and bedding. They were followed by the warrant 
 officer the man-o'-war's boatswain. His ruddy 
 face flamed betwixt two red whiskers; his small, 
 sharp blue eyes shot a bayonet glance in twenty 
 directions in two seconds. He and his men had 
 come to stay, and the cutter laboured to her sea 
 mother to the stroke of five oars controlled by a 
 helmsman. 
 
 " I'm the bo'sun of her Majesty's ship Magici- 
 enne," said the flaming seaman, coming up to Hardy 
 with a salute. " My orders are to help you to carry 
 this ship home." 
 
 " It is very good of your captain," said Hardy, 
 deeply moved, and smiling with an expression that 
 accentuated the weariness of his soul, and that also 
 emphasised the manly nature of his character, which 
 instantly won the recognition of the boatswain be- 
 cause he was a sailor in the presence of a sailor. 
 
 " Do I understand your discipline ? I give my
 
 9 The Camilla of the Sea <Q* 345 
 
 orders through you. Your men would not accept 
 my command." 
 
 " Quite right, sir," answered the boatswain, cheer- 
 fully, " and if you will turn me to at once I will 
 turn them men to immediately after. But I beg 
 you won't overtire yourself, sir. And the lady has 
 helped you! And that's a beautiful dog of yourn. 
 A small ship's company, sir ; and, begging your par- 
 don, you and the lady both look as if a good night's 
 rest would do you good." 
 
 "What is your name?" said Hardy. 
 
 " Harper, sir." 
 
 " Mr. Harper, will you kindly see that the men 
 make themselves comfortable in the forecastle? 
 You will then bend fresh sails and make all sail. 
 I will show you where everything you want is to 
 be found." 
 
 He sat as he spoke, and the boatswain, touching 
 his cap, went amongst his men and executed Hardy's 
 orders. 
 
 The two lovers watched the steamer. A man-o'- 
 war, even when she carries paddle-boxes, is always 
 a gracious object. Yonder ship's rails were embel- 
 lished with a snow-white line of hammocks, and 
 snow-white lines of furled canvas brightened the 
 yards with a gleaming streak of sunshine. The full 
 philosophy of spit and polish was to be found in 
 that steamer. It spoke in the flash of brass; it 
 lurked in the gleam of glass ; it was visible in many 
 colours in paint work. Every rope was hauled taut ; 
 the yards were unerringly square. The boat rose 
 without a song, the wheels revolved, the foam of a 
 harpooned whale fell in dazzling masses from under 
 the sponsons, and the splendour of the yeast under
 
 346 f The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 the square counter flamed like the rising day-star 
 in the windows of the stern. 
 
 Hardy staggered to the signal halliards; his mo- 
 tions were seen he could not salute with the dis- 
 tress signal. With somewhat shaking hands, there- 
 fore, he unbent and rebent the Red Ensign and 
 hoisted it and dipped, and the courtesy found its 
 response in the graceful sinking and heavenward 
 soaring of the White Flag of our country. 
 
 Before the sailors came out of the forecastle, the 
 queen's ship was on a line with the York's port 
 cathead, merrily slapping her way to England. 
 
 Mr. Harper came aft. His salute was respectful, 
 his manner sympathetic. 
 
 " If you will tell me where the spare sails are 
 kept, sir, I will see to everything, that you and the 
 lady may go below and take the rest you stand in 
 need of." 
 
 Hardy told him all that was necessary, thanking 
 him also, whilst Julia looked at the fifteen men that 
 were gathered forward and admired their well-fed 
 appearance, trim attire, manly shapes, and the 
 whiskers of those who wore them. The discipline 
 of a ship of state was in their postures, different 
 from the longshore, lounging attitude of Jack Muck 
 when waiting, and yet some of the best of those men 
 had been Jack Mucks in their day; one had even 
 been mate of a ship, and the look he sent aloft was 
 charged with recognition of familiar conditions. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Harper," said Hardy, " I will leave 
 the ship to you. There are plenty of provisions and 
 there is plenty of fresh water, and there is rum for 
 you to serve out as you think proper." 
 
 Saying this, he took Julia by the arm, conducted
 
 f The Camilla of the Sea $ 347 
 
 her to the companion, and followed her into the 
 cabin. 
 
 And now occurred another extraordinary incident 
 in this ship's adventure. It had indeed once oc- 
 curred visibly before, but it will not be credited in 
 this age of the religious novel. When Hardy was 
 in the cabin he put his cap upon the table, and going 
 to a cushioned locker knelt beside it. Julia imme- 
 diately approached him and likewise knelt, shoulders 
 touching. When they had thanked God and it 
 was meet that they should thank him for their very 
 merciful deliverance they ate some food, drank 
 some wine, and went to their cabins. 
 
 The sleep of the wearied mariner is profound, and 
 the sleep of the toil-worn girl at sea is likewise pro- 
 found. Hardy was the first to awake. Through the 
 little port-hole or scuttle in the ship's side he wit- 
 nessed the scarlet of the dying afternoon; he also 
 observed the creaming curl of the breaking sea 
 streaming swiftly past. In the plank with his feet 
 he felt the buoyancy of sea-borne motion, the floating 
 lift, the floating reel of a fabric winging over the 
 deep. He shaved himself, and emerged a clean, a 
 manly though a pallid sailor, still something gaunt 
 but with eyes brightened by sleep, and with an 
 expression gallant with hope and with victory. 
 
 He looked round for Julia. She was still in her 
 cabin, and he would not awaken her. At the foot of 
 the companion-steps lay the Newfoundland; Hardy 
 knelt beside the noble creature and put his cheek to 
 the wet muzzle, and the dog groaned in pleasure and 
 gratitude. Then they went on deck together. 
 
 It was a strange, new, surprising sight to Hardy 
 and perhaps to the dog: a British man-of-war's
 
 348 *& The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 man stood at the wheel of the ship; up and down 
 the quarter-deck stumped the stout figure of Mr. 
 Harper in all pomp of commanding strut. It was 
 the first dog-watch, and some of the sailors were 
 walking about the forecastle smoking pipes, and 
 some of them, also smoking pipes, lurked about the 
 galley door. A fresh breeze was sweeping down 
 upon the quarter. The ship was under full sail 
 from main-royal to flying jib, from mizzen-royal 
 to spanker. The weather-clew of the mainsail was 
 up, and what was that yonder, right ahead ? By 
 heaven! the Magicienne slapping along at ten and 
 pouring incense of soot to the very extremity of the 
 visible universe, and the York was doing twelve and 
 overhauling her with foam to the figurehead, with 
 derisive laughter aloft, with all graceful scorn of 
 the wind-swept structure in every leap, that brought 
 closer yet to the eye the laborious ploughing of the 
 paddles. 
 
 Hardy and Mr. Harper touched their caps to each 
 other. 
 
 " This is business, sir," said the boatswain, " and 
 this ship is going to point a moral to that there 
 steamer ! " 
 
 Hardy sent a critical gaze aloft. Everything was 
 set to a hair and rounded firm as a boiler full of 
 steam. Everything was doing the work of a boiler 
 and more than the work of a boiler, as witness 
 yonder sky^blackening fabric, like panting Time, 
 toiling to elude the Camilla of the sea. 
 
 " Your captain has sent me some good men," said 
 Hardy. " It did not take you long, I reckon, to bend 
 new canvas." 
 
 The boatswain smiled loftily betwixt his red 
 whiskers.
 
 $ The Camilla of the Sea $ 349 
 
 "It isn't all New Navy yet, sir," he answered; 
 " but it's coming." 
 
 He sighed like a risen porpoise. 
 
 " There'll be no call for sailors when it's to be 
 nothing but that, with pole-masts and so built " 
 he was pointing as he spoke to the steamer " that 
 a dock-master might fitly sing out to the skipper, 
 Which end of you is coming in?" 
 
 He suddenly drew himself up as though on drill, 
 and Julia stepped out of the companion-hatch. 
 Sleep had touched her cheeks with a delicate bloom. 
 She had refreshed herself with soap and water ; her 
 abundant hair was gracefully dressed; with the 
 cunning fingers of a woman she had somehow, I 
 do not know how, effaced in effect at least from 
 her attire the soiling and creasing influence of hard 
 weather upon the single robe. She had managed 
 to warp her hat to its old bearings, and it sat cocked 
 in its old coquettish pride upon her head. Her gaze 
 was full of rapture as she looked at the ship, the 
 straining sweep of white water over the side, the 
 easy, manly figure of the man at the wheel, the 
 Magicienne, which if this breeze lasted the ship 
 must presently shift her helm to pass. 
 
 " What do you think of this? " said Hardy to her. 
 
 "Is it a dream, Mr. Harper?" said the girl. 
 " Shall Mr. Hardy and I awaken to find ourselves 
 on board an abandoned wreck?" 
 
 " Call it a dream, mum," answered the boatswain, 
 " and when you awake it will be England ! " 
 
 This story of the ship's adventure is told. Be- 
 cause what you wish and expect is bound to happen 
 when safety and home are to be reached and realised
 
 35 *$* The Mate of the Good Ship York f 
 
 by a noble, well-found clipper ship in charge of two 
 sailors of the manliest character, and manned by fif- 
 teen splendid examples of the man-of-war's men of 
 the Navy of that age. 
 
 The merciful eye of Crod was upon this ship, for 
 certainly the strength of our courageous couple had 
 been expended in a long strife with the gale, and the 
 dog, and the watch-tackle, and the winch without 
 human help would have been of no use. Hardy 
 would have been forced to take the first assistance 
 that offered. It came to him in the triumphant spirit 
 which informs the whole of this couple's adventures. 
 Our sailor yearned for an estate for himself and for 
 the girl that was to be his wife. He richly deserved 
 the reward he desired. Had any ship but a man-of- 
 war assisted him to get home the salvage claimed 
 would have diminished his proportion to a sum 
 which at the present rate of interest would not have 
 yielded him the value of the pension of the retired 
 naval bluejacket. The British man-of-war demands 
 no salvage, and this is but just, because her very 
 existence depends upon the safety of the British 
 merchantman. If you extinguish the Merchant Ser- 
 vice, you extinguish the need for a Navy and you 
 extinguish the nation herself, because we are sur- 
 rounded by the ocean, we are fed by the merchant 
 sailor, and the bluejacket is paid to protect him 
 whilst he brings us the daily bread for which we pray 
 every Sunday in church, and sometimes more often 
 than every Sunday. 
 
 I have never heard of a single instance in which 
 the Admiralty have claimed salvage for services ren- 
 dered to a British merchantman. Possibly they may 
 have sent in a claim for the value of stores expended
 
 $ The Camilla of the Sea > 351 
 
 in the salvage services. In the case of a successful 
 salvage it has sometimes happened that the owners 
 of the ship have by permission of the Admiralty 
 presented a service of plate for the officers' mess, or 
 they have made personal gifts to the officers and a 
 dinner or supper ashore to the crew. Thus it will be 
 gathered that Hardy reaped the harvest he had 
 sown and held in view; and having said this no 
 more need be asked, for the hand that has penned 
 these lines has no cunning as a reporter of the 
 Marriage Service. 
 
 THE END.
 

 
 announcement Hist 
 
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 '* *
 
 A 000110636 8