Watson came to the door with him. "Got all you want, sonny? Anything I can do for you?"
"Yes, come into the side parlour here, and I'll tell you my yarn before I write that letter. I've a full hour, and I can do both in that time."
"Aye, aye," said Watson in his deep voice, as he seated himself.
"Well, here it isthe yarn I mean. I came out here to Sydney two years ago, chief officer on the Maid of Judah. There were a lot of passengers. One familyan old gentleman, his wife and daughter and myself got pretty thick."
"'Count of the daughter?"
Barry nodded. "Yes. The skipper was a lardy-da sort of a beast, and fell foul of me on account of talking to her too muchso he told the girl's motherwho was a silly, brainless sort of a woman, and thought him a perfect gentlemanI knew him to be a beast. Between the two of them they made trouble enough for me, though the old gentleman stuck to me, and didn't believe in the skipper. And anyway the girl liked me best, you see."
The old mate nodded. "I've seen a lot of skippers like that. The way womenmarried women travellin' alone especiallytakes to such swabs is agin Natur'. I don't understand itnever could."
"Well," resumed Barry, "one day, after we reached Sydney, the skipper and I came to blowsover the girl. I asked for leavetold him I was going ashore to see the Maynards. He said something foul about the girl, and so I dropped it into himknocked him off the break of the poop on to the main deck. He was nearly killed. I got two months' gaol."
Rumbling voice nodded again. "An' o' course the gal wouldn't recognise you again. Don't tell me. I know something about women."
Barry smiled. "But she isn't one of that sort, Mr. Watson. Both she and her father used to come and see methe mother hated me. Of course, when I came out, the owners of the Maid of Judah wouldn't have anything to do with me after spoiling the beauty of their curly-headed pet skipper, and so I was stranded for a bit. But I soon got a berth as mate on a brig called the Tawera, trading between Tahiti, Valparaiso, and Sydney. Used to write to the girl (whose mother had died meantime) and was putting by money. Then I got into another mess."
"Women?" queried Watson, puffing solemnly at his pipe.
"No," answered Barry hotly; "didn't I tell you that I used to write to her? I'm not one of that sort."
"Beg pardon, sonny. I'm an old fool. But what was the mess?"
"I left the Taweralike a blind foolat Tahiti, and sailed for the Paumotu Group on a pearl-shelling cruise in a cutter. We ran ashore on a reef off Ahunui, and lost nearly everything of courseI was half-ownerand lived on the Paumotus for nearly a year before I could get away to Auckland. Then I came to Sydneybest place for another ship, you knowbut couldn't get one. Had to pawn all my gear to keep myself going. Didn't care to go and see heryou know, under the circsafraid of the old woman, who I didn't know was dead. So I booted it around trying to get a ship. And now comes the curious part of my yarn; I had hardly got a ship, when Ijust after I left you this eveningmet Mr. Maynard. He's broke, lost all his money in a mine or something. Shethe girl I mean, had to take a berth in a draper's shop. But I've seen her, and everything's all right, and I'm as happy as a sandboy. Let's have something to drink. I must hurry off aboard, and write a letter to her."
"Steady, boy. Steady about drinks," and the old man put his hand on Barry's knee. "I'll have a drink with you with pleasure, but I'll pay for them. I don't suppose you got much of an advance, did you now? And how much have you left?"
Barry laughed, and then told the old mate his story in detail, and confessed to having but three shillings left.
"Mr. Barry, you're a gentleman. I hope the girl is one of the right"
"She is one" began Barry.
"There, that'll do, my boy. I'm sure she is; a girl who sticks to her father in that way will make the two ends and bight of a good wife. Now, look here. I've a hundred or two in the Bank of Australasia here, and if you want a tenneraye, or twoyou can have it straight away; the landlord will cash a cheque for me."
Barry gripped the old sailor's hand.
"You're a 'white man' as they say here in Australia, a white man to the backbone! And I thank you sincerely, very sincerely, but I don't want it. But I'd like you to know Miss Maynard. Here is the address, I'm writing to her to-night, as soon as I get aboard, and I'll let her know you are coming. I had no time to tell her a heap of thingsall about our being cast away on the Paumotus, and all the rest of it. Now I must be offit's past eleven, and I have promised to be on board at twelve. We sail at daylight." Then he gave his friend some particulars about the brig.
Watson shook the young man's hand warmly, and they parted.
Half an hour later Barry was standing on the wharf hailing the brig. A boat at once pushed off from her side and pulled in. The wind by this time had already decreased in violence, but it was still blowing strongly, though the sky was fairly clear, and a few stars were showing.
Jumping into the boat, which was manned by four native sailors, and steered by a thick-set, powerful white man, who was wrapped up in a heavy coat, and who bade Barry a gruff "good evening," she was quickly slewed round, and in a few minutes was alongside again. No lights were visible on deck, but Captain Rawlings was standing in the waist smoking a cigar.
"Ha, here you are, Mr. Barry," he said pleasantly, shaking hands with his new officer; "come below with me, please. Mr. Barradas, hoist in the boat as quickly as possible. Mr. Barry, this is Mr. Barradas, my second mate."
Following the captain, Barry entered the cabin, which was large and well lighted. A native steward was in attendance; at a sign from Rawlings he brought decanters of spirits and two glasses, and placed them on the table.
"Take a drink, Mr. Barry. Let us drink success to our voyage."
"Thank you," said Barry, and Rawlings clinked his own glass against his in a friendly fashion. Then as he set his glass down the captain, still smiling in a pleasant manner, said, "That is your cabin there, Mr. Barry; the steward will put your things in. And now you'll be surprised to hear that I've decided to get under weigh at once, instead of waiting for daylight. Steward, tell Mr. Barradas to get ready to heave up."
Barry's face expressed his astonishment and disappointmentastonishment that the captain should choose a dark and boisterous night to take his departure, and disappointment at his thus being prevented from writing to Rose Maynard and sending his letter ashore. Rawlings was quick to note the change in his face, and his own features, too, underwent a sudden transformation.
"I expect my orders not to be questioned, Mr. Barry," he said, in a sharp, imperious tone.
"Certainly not," assented Barry, "I am merely disappointed at being unable to write a very important letter. That is all, sir."
The captain's smile was back in an instant.
"Can you do it in a quarter of an hour?" he asked.
"Less than thatten, five minutes will do. I can scribble a few lines at once if you will allow me. But how can I get it ashore?"
"Oh, the Custom House fellowthe tide-waiter will take it for you. I'll put him ashore in the dinghy as soon as we begin to heave up. Be as quick as you can, please. Steward, bring writing gear for Mr. Barry, quick."
Whilst Barry hurriedly scribbled a few lines to Rose telling her that the brig was putting to sea at that moment, and that he would write her fully at the first available opportunity, Captain Rawlings paced to and fro in the main cabin, waiting.
Whilst Barry hurriedly scribbled a few lines to Rose telling her that the brig was putting to sea at that moment, and that he would write her fully at the first available opportunity, Captain Rawlings paced to and fro in the main cabin, waiting.
"Ah, finished already. The tide-waiter is asleep in his cabin, and I said I would not disturb him till the last moment. But I'll wake him now."
"Thank you," said Barry, handing him the letter. "Shall I go for'ard now, sir?"
"If you please," answered Rawlings politely.
The moment Barry left the cabin the captain opened the letter, read it, smiled contemptuously, and closed it again. Then he too went on deck, and walked aft.
"Are you ready, bos'un?" he said to a man who with two others was standing by the dinghy davits on the port side.
"Yes, sir."
"Then lower away. And, here, put this letter in his pocket. Take him well up into the middle of the wharf, and lie him down somewhere under shelter."
Just as the windlass pawls gave their first clink the dinghy was lowered, and in a few seconds shot out from the brig's side. Reaching the wharf steps, one man jumped out and held the boat, whilst the other two lifted out the inanimate figure of the Custom House officer, carried him up the wharf, and laid him down under the shelter of a housed-in donkey-engine. Then one of them, the boatswain, thrust Barry's letter into the man's breast-pocket, and the two left him. In less than ten minutes the boat was alongside again and being hoisted up.
As the brig's forefoot came over her anchor Rawlings, who gave his orders very quietly, waited for a favourable moment. A gust of wind canted her head away from the shores of the little bay, and in a few seconds her anchor was a-trip, and under her fore and main topsails and headsails only the Mahina wore round, and began to slip through the water.
As soon as the anchor was secured Rawlings came for'ard and stood beside his chief mate, watching the shore lights.
"That'll do, Mr. Barry. We're all right now. With this westerly we won't run foul of anything coming up the harbour. Leave a couple of these native chaps here on the look-out; they can see through a stone wall."
In less than an hour the brig was between the heads, and then Rawlings told Barry to make more sail, and gave the helmsman his course, E.N.E.
As the mate called out to the hands to loose the topgallant sails, and half a dozen men sprang aloft, the captain turned to Barry.
"Oh, I had quite forgotten those gaol-birds. Bos'un, bring a light. Come with me, Mr. Barry, and," he added, "bring one of these with you," as he took a belaying-pin out of the rail.
Wondering what was now afoot, Barry followed the skipper to the deck-house, the after part of which was used as a sail locker. The door was locked.
"Hold that light up, bos'un," said Rawlings quietly, as he took a key from his pocket, and opened the door. "Now then, men, come out, and look smart about it."
One by one the four rough fellows whom Barry had seen on the wharf in the afternoon came out. The tallest of them, with a sullen look at the captain, muttered something under his breath.
"None of that, now," said Rawlings, and quick as lightning he dealt the man a smashing blow on the head with the iron belaying-pin. He fell full length upon the deck and lay there motionless. Rawlings looked at him with calm unconcern. "Take him for'ard," he said in drawling tones to the other three, "and take warning too. Let me see one of you but look sideways at me or any of my officers, and you'll get a surprise. Off you go."
Shortly after four bells had struck, as the chief mate was seated on the skylight smoking his pipe, and thinking of the unnecessary violence of Captain Rawlings, Barradas, who had the watch, stopped in front of him.
"Don't you care about turning in?" he asked civilly.
"No, I don't feel a bit sleepy; in fact, I'll be glad when it's eight bells."
The second mate nodded, took a couple of turns up and down the deck, and then stopped again. "What do you think of the Mahina? She can sail, eh?"
"She does seem very fast."
"Fastest vessel in the Pacific for her size, but a bit overmasted. Think I can give her the royals nowthe wind is taking off, and sea going down fast." Then, after he had given the necessary orders, he began again.
"Heard you were mate of the Tawera, mister."
Barry nodded.
"Then you're used to kanakas and their ways"this half questioningly, half affirmingly. "These chaps heremost of them, anywayare kanakas. Good sailor men too. Better than those swabs we had to shove in the sail locker until we got to sea. But I daresay we'll knock some work out of them."
"Did they try to run away, then?"
Barradas grinned. "We didn't give 'em the chance. We're short-handed as it is."
"I heard that half a dozen of your men had bolted," said Barry.
"Did you? Why, who told you? Oh, the wharf policeman. Yes, that's right enough; we did lose six men. They were six of our best men, tooPenrhyn Islanders," and then he quickly moved away, and thrusting his hands in his pockets seemed deeply interested in the man who was loosing the fore-royal.
Presently Rawlings came on deck, and said to Barradas
"Poor Tracey is dead. He breathed his last a few minutes ago." And then he addressed Barry.
"My poor mate is dead, Mr. Barry."
Barry jumped up in astonishment. "I'm sorry to hear that, sir. And I had no idea he was on board."
"Yes, poor fellow," replied Rawlings quietly, "he refused to go ashore, in fact pleaded so hard with me, that I could not resist his wishes. He hated the idea of dying in an hospital, so I gave way to him."
"What was his illness?"
Rawlings hesitated a moment, and then answered, "I might as well tell you, though only Mr. Barradas and myself are aware of the cause of his death. Two days ago he shot himself in a fit of depression. I had two doctors off at once to see him, but they both told me that he could not possibly live, and that even to move him ashore would hasten the end. Now, will you come below?"
With a curious, but yet undefined feeling of dissatisfaction Barry went below with the captain, who, taking off his cap, opened the door of one of the state-rooms, and motioned to his chief officer to follow.
Lying in the bunk of the state-room, which was well lit up, was the figure of a man, who, when Rawlings lifted the sheet which covered his face, was handsome even in death and appeared to Barry to have been about thirty years of age. Round the forehead and upper part of the head was a bandage. This Rawlings lifted and showed Barry a bullet hole in the left temple. Then covering up the dead man's face again, he stepped out into the main cabin, and motioned Barry to a seat.
"Sit down, Mr. Barry. You must listen to me for a few minutes, and I shall now quickly explain to you one or two things that may have appeared somewhat strange to you since you joined the ship. I have had a very great deal of trouble, trouble that my officers have shared with me. But I must tell you the story in detail, painful as it is for me to relate it; indeed, neither Barradas, myself, nor the boatswain, the only three remaining out of the ship's original company, care to speak of it, for death and disaster have followed us throughout.
"When that poor fellow Tracey joined me in Honolulu as mate he was accompanied by his wife, a young Australian lady, to whom he was deeply attached. He was anxious to pay for her accommodation during the cruise, but to this I would not consent. And I saw he was simply overjoyed at her being allowed to sail with him.
"I bought this vessel intending to run her among the Marshall and Caroline Islands in the usual tradeyou know: coconut oil, turtle shell, and sharks' fins. After leaving Honolulu we cruised among the eastward islands and did wellso well that we nearly filled the ship. Then we stood away for the Carolines, and on our way ran into Port Lêle on Strong's Island, to wood and water. It was after we left there that Tracey lost his wife. Poor girl, her end was a terrible one."