W. W. Jacobs

“ The schooner Falcon was ready for sea. The last bale of general cargo had just been shipped, and a few hairy, unkempt seamen were busy putting on the hatches under the able profanity of the mate.
“All clear?” inquired the master, a short, ruddy-faced man of about thirty-five. “Cast off there!”
“Ain't you going to wait for the passengers, then?” inquired the mate.
“No, no,” replied the skipper, whose features were working with excitement. “They won't come now, I'm sure they won't. We'll lose the tide if we don't look sharp.” ”

“ Blossom. “When they're in my way, I'll soon let 'em know.”
“Did you hear what I said?” thundered the skipper, as the men hesitated.
“Aye, aye, sir,” muttered the crew, moving off.
“How dare you interfere with me?” said Mrs. Blossom hotly, as she realised the defeat. “Ever since I've been on this ship you've been trying to aggravate me. I wonder the men don't hit you, you nasty, ginger-whiskered little man.”
“Go on with your work,” said the skipper, fondly stroking the maligned whiskers.
“Don't you talk to me, Jim Harris,” said Mrs. Blossom, quivering with wrath. ”

“ Look here, I like brave men. If you go in the cage and undo that bear, I'll marry you. That's what I call an adventure.”
“Smith,” called the skipper quietly, “come and take the helm a bit.”
The seaman obeyed, and Lewis, accompanied by the girl, walked forward.
At the bear's cage he stopped, and, fumbling in his pocket for the key, steadily regarded the brute as it lay gnashing its teeth, and trying in vain to bite the ropes which bound it.
“You're afraid,” said the girl tauntingly; “you're quite white.”
The captain made no reply, but eyed her so steadily that her gaze fell. ”

“ Go for'ard! Go for'ard at once!”
With a melancholy shake of his head the old man complied, and the startled skipper turned to the mate, who was at the wheel, and expressed his firm intention of at once stopping such behaviour on his ship.
“You can't do it,” said the mate firmly.
“Can't do it?” queried the skipper.
“Not a bit of it,” said the other. “They've all got it bad, an' the more you get at 'em the wuss they'll be. Mark my words, best let 'em alone.”
“I'll hold my hand a bit and watch 'em,” was the reply; “but I've always been cap'n on my own ship, and I always will.” ”

“ The mutineers appeared to be in a dilemma, and, following the example of the mate, scratched their heads thoughtfully.
“We thought you liked him,” said the mate, at last, feebly.
“You had no business to think,” said Miss Rumbolt. “You are bad men, and you'll all be hung, every one of you; I shall come and see it.” “The cap'n's welcome to her for me,” murmured the helmsman in a husky whisper to the man next to him. “The vixen!”
“Very good,” said the mate. “If you won't, you won't. This end of the ship'll belong to you after eight o'clock of a night. Lewis, you must go for'ard with the men.” ”

“ Miss Cooper, glancing at his attire, smiled softly to herself, and prepared for something startling, and she got it; for a more forlorn, sulky-looking object than the skipper, when he did appear, had never been seen on the deck of the Falcon, and his London betrothed glanced at him hot with shame and indignation. ”

“ IN LIMEHOUSE REACH
It was the mate's affair all through. He began by leaving the end of a line dangling over the stern, and the propeller, though quite unaccustomed to that sort of work, wound it up until only a few fathoms remained. It then stopped, and the mischief was not discovered until the skipper had called the engineer everything that he and the mate and three men and a boy could think of. The skipper did the interpreting through the tube which afforded the sole means of communication between the wheel and the engine-room, and the indignant engineer did the listening. ”

“ The mate was leaning against the side of the schooner, idly watching a few red-coated linesmen lounging on the Tower Quay. Careful mariners were getting out their side-lights, and careless lightermen were progressing by easy bumps from craft to craft on their way up the river. A tug, half burying itself in its own swell, rushed panting by, and a faint scream came from aboard an approaching skiff as it tossed in the wash. ”

“ The other, who did not appear to hear the question, made no answer, but continued to stare in a most extraordinary fashion at a bottle which graced the centre of the table.
“What is it?” inquired the mate, not venturing to trust his eyes. “WATER? Where did it come from?”
“Cook!” roared the skipper, turning a bloodshot eye on that worthy, as his pallid face showed behind the mate, “what's this? If you say it's water I'll kill you.” ”

“ Without noticing this remark the captain stretched himself on the hatches, and Bill, after a few more grumbles, followed his example, and both men were soon asleep.
Day was breaking when they awoke and stretched their stiffened limbs, for the air was fresh, with a suspicion of moisture in it. Two or three small craft were, like them selves, riding at anchor, their decks wet and deserted; others were getting under way to take advantage of the tide, which had just turned.
“Up with the anchor,” said the skipper, seizing a handspike and thrusting it into the windlass. ”

“ Arrived home, he lit his pipe, and throwing himself into an armchair, related his exploits. Chrissie had recourse to her handkerchief again, more for effect than use, but Miss Polson, who was a tender soul, took hers out and wept unrestrainedly. At first the captain took it well enough. It was a tribute to his power, but when they took to sobbing one against the other, his temper rose, and he sternly commanded silence.
“I shall be like—this—every day at sea,” sobbed Chrissie vindictively, “only worse; making us all ridiculous.” ”

“ Before the mate could reply, the companion was pushed back, and a middle-aged woman, labouring under strong excitement, appeared on deck.
“You villain!” she screamed excitably, rushing up to the mate. “Take me back; take me back!”
“What's all this, Harry?” demanded the skipper sternly.
“He—he—he—asked me to go into the cab—cabin,” sobbed Mrs. Jansell, “and sent me to sleep, and too—too—took me away. My husband'll kill me; I know he will. Take me back.” ”

“ Miss Alsen shook her head dismally. “I've got to it,” she remarked.
“Your father was saying something to me about it,” said the mate guardedly.
“Did he tell the cook and the cabin boy too?” inquired Miss Alsen, flushing somewhat. “What did he tell you?”
“Told me about a man named Towson,” said the mate, becoming intent on the sails, “and—another fellow.”
“I took a little notice of HIM just to spoil the other,” said the girl, “not that I cared for him. I can't understand a girl caring for any man. Great, clumsy, ugly things.” ”

“ What the thunder are you doing?”
“Picking up my engineer,” replied the captain, as he steamed right across the other's bows, and nearly ran down a sailing-barge, the skipper of which, a Salvation Army man, was nobly fighting with his feelings.
“Why don't you stop?” he yelled.
“'Cos I can't,” wailed the skipper of the Bulldog, as he threaded his way between a huge steamer and a schooner, who, in avoiding him, were getting up a little collision on their own account.
“Ahoy, Bulldog! Ahoy!” called the mate. “Stand by to pick us up. We've got him.” ”

“ The neighbouring clocks were just striking nine in a sort of yelping chorus to the heavy boom of Big Ben, which came floating down the river, as Mrs. Bunker and the night watchman, staggering under a load of luggage, slowly made their way on to the jetty. The barge, for such was the craft in question, was almost level with the planks, while the figures of two men darted to and fro in all the bustle of getting under way.
“Bill,” said the watchman, addressing the mate, “bear a hand with this box, and be careful, it's got the wedding clothes inside.” ”

“ The passenger herself was already at the breakfast-table.
“Cap'n's on deck, I s'pose?” said the mate, preparing to resume negotiations where they were broken off the night before. “I hope you feel better than you did last night.”
“Yes, thank you,” said she.
“You'll make a good sailor in time,” said the mate.
“I hope not,” said Miss Alsen, who thought it time to quell a gleam of peculiar tenderness plainly apparent in the mate's eyes. “I shouldn't like to be a sailor even if I were a man.” ”

“ Jansell; “you don't know how jealous my husband is.”
“He won't hurt you,” said the skipper kindly “he won't be jealous of a woman your time o' life; that is, not if he's got any sense. You'll have to go as far as Boston with us now. I've lost too much time already to go back.”
“You must take me back,” said Mrs. Jansell passionately.
“I'm not going back for anybody,” said the skipper. “But you can make your mind quite easy: you're as safe aboard my ship as what you would be alone on a raft in the middle of the Atlantic; and as for the mate, he was only chaffing you. Wasn't you, Harry?” ”

“ He reached the house breathless, and paused before an unshaven man in time-worn greasy clothes, who was smoking a short clay pipe with much enjoyment in front of the door.
“Is Cap'n Bross here?” he panted.
“He's upstairs,” said the man, with a leer, “sitting in sackcloth and ashes, more ashes than sackcloth. Have you got some clothes for him?”
“Look here,” said Tommy. He was down on his knees with the mouth of the bag open again, quite in the style of the practised hawker. “Give me an old suit of clothes for them. Hurry up. There's a lovely frock.” ”

“ Jansell. “Hush! here comes your father.”
The master of the Aquila came on deck as she spoke, and walking slowly up to the group, stood sternly regarding them. Under his gaze the mate breathlessly reeled off his tale, noticing with somewhat mixed feelings the widening grin of his listener as he proceeded.
“Well, you're a lively sort o' man,” said the skipper as he finished. “In one day you tie up your own ship, run off with my wife, and lose us a tide. Are you always like that?” ”

“ The old man shook his head. “You can't kill a black cat for nothing,” said he, “mark my words!”
The skipper, who was in a temper at the time, thought little of them, but they recurred to him vividly the next day. The wind had freshened during the night, and rain was falling heavily. On deck the crew stood about in oilskins, while below, the boy, in his new capacity of gaoler, was ministering to the wants of an ungrateful prisoner, when the cook, happening to glance that way, was horrified to see the animal emerge from the fo'c'sle. ”

“ The seaman followed his outstretched finger, and his heart failed him as he saw the cat, with its back arched, gingerly picking its way along the side of the vessel.
“I can't see nothing,” he said doggedly.
“I don't suppose you can, Bob,” said the skipper in a melancholy voice, as the cat vanished in the bows; “it's evidently only meant for me to see. What it means I don't know. I'm going down to turn in. I ain't fit for duty. You don't mind being left alone till the mate comes up, do you?” ”

“ The other bunks were empty, and, after a toilet hastened by a yearning for nourishment, he ran up on deck.
Day had just broken, and he found to his surprise that the voyage was over, and the schooner in a small harbour, lying alongside a stone quay. A few unloaded trucks stood on a railway line which ran from the harbour to the town clustered behind it, but there was no sign of work or life; the good people of the place evidently being comfortably in their beds, and in no hurry to quit them. ”

“ The skipper drew himself up haughtily, but the effect was somewhat marred by one eye, which dwelt persistently on the clout, and after a short inward struggle he moved off, accompanied by the mate. Wellington himself would have been nonplussed by a wet cloth in the hands of a fearless woman.
“She'll just have to have her own way till we get to Llanelly,” said the indignant skipper, “and then I'll send her home by train and ship another cook. I knew she'd got a temper, but I didn't know it was like this. She's the last woman that sets foot on my ship—that's all she's done for her sex.” ”

“ It's much easier for a small man to slip off than a big one.”
“It licks me,” said Joe thoughtfully, “what they want 'em back for—I should think they'd be glad to git rid o' such”—he paused a moment while politeness struggled with feeling, and added, “skunks.”
“P'raps I've a reason for being a skunk, p'raps I haven't,” retorted Private Smith, as his face fell.
“This'll be your bunk,” interposed Dan hastily; “put your things in there, and when you are in yourself you'll be as comfortable as a oyster in its shell.” ”

“ For the first day the crew ate in silence, but at dinner-time on the second the storm broke.
“What are yer looking at your vittles like that for?” inquired the “Bruiser” of Sam Dowse, as that able-bodied seaman sat with his plate in his lap, eyeing it with much disfavour. “That ain't the way to look at your food, after I've been perspiring away all the morning cooking it.”
“Yes, you've cooked yourself instead of the meat,” said Sam warmly. “It's a shame to spoil good food like that; it's quite raw.” ”