The Shadow Line | Page 8

and said that he had met my late Captain last
evening, adding in an undertone: "He's very sorry you left. He had
never had a mate that suited him so well," I answered him earnestly,
without any affectation, that I certainly hadn't been so comfortable in
any ship or with any commander in all my sea-going days.
"Well--then," he murmured.
"Haven't you heard, Captain Giles, that I in- tend to go home?"
"Yes," he said benevolently. "I have heard that sort of thing so often
before."
"What of that?" I cried. I thought he was the most dull, unimaginative
man I had ever met. I don't know what more I would have said, but the
much-belated Hamilton came in just then and took his usual seat. So I
dropped into a mum- ble.
"Anyhow, you shall see it done this time."
Hamilton, beautifully shaved, gave Captain Giles a curt nod, but didn't
even condescend to raise his eyebrows at me; and when he spoke it was
only to tell the Chief Steward that the food on his plate wasn't fit to be
set before a gentleman. The individual addressed seemed much too

unhappy to groan. He cast his eyes up to the punkah and that was all.
Captain Giles and I got up from the table, and the stranger next to
Hamilton followed our ex- ample, manoeuvring himself to his feet with
difficulty. He, poor fellow, not because he was hungry but I verily
believe only to recover his self-respect, had tried to put some of that
un- worthy food into his mouth. But after dropping his fork twice and
generally making a failure of it, he had sat still with an air of intense
mortifica- tion combined with a ghastly glazed stare. Both Giles and I
had avoided looking his way at table.
On the verandah he stopped short on purpose to address to us anxiously
a long remark which I failed to understand completely. It sounded like
some horrible unknown language. But when Captain Giles, after only
an instant for reflection, assured him with homely friendliness, "Aye, to
be sure. You are right there," he appeared very much gratified indeed,
and went away (pretty straight, too) to seek a distant long chair.
"What was he trying to say?" I asked with disgust.
"I don't know. Mustn't be down too much on a fellow. He's feeling
pretty wretched, you may be sure; and to-morrow he'll feel worse yet."
Judging by the man's appearance it seemed im- possible. I wondered
what sort of complicated de- bauch had reduced him to that
unspeakable con- dition. Captain Giles' benevolence was spoiled by a
curious air of complacency which I disliked. I said with a little laugh:
"Well, he will have you to look after him." He made a deprecatory
gesture, sat down, and took up a paper. I did the same. The papers were
old and uninteresting, filled up mostly with dreary stereotyped
descriptions of Queen Victoria's first jubilee celebrations. Probably we
should have quickly fallen into a tropical afternoon doze if it had not
been for Hamilton's voice raised in the dining room. He was finishing
his tiffin there. The big double doors stood wide open permanently, and
he could not have had any idea how near to the doorway our chairs
were placed. He was heard in a loud, supercilious tone answering some
state- ment ventured by the Chief Steward.

"I am not going to be rushed into anything. They will be glad enough to
get a gentleman I imagine. There is no hurry."
A loud whispering from the Steward succeeded and then again
Hamilton was heard with even intenser scorn.
"What? That young ass who fancies himself for having been chief mate
with Kent so long? . . . Preposterous."
Giles and I looked at each other. Kent being the came of my late
commander, Captain Giles' whisper, "He's talking of you," seemed to
me sheer waste of breath. The Chief Steward must have stuck to his
point, whatever it was, because Hamil- ton was heard again more
supercilious if possible, and also very emphatic:
"Rubbish, my good man! One doesn't COMPETE with a rank outsider
like that. There's plenty of time."
Then there were pushing of chairs, footsteps in the next room, and
plaintive expostulations from the Steward, who was pursuing Hamilton,
even out of doors through the main entrance.
"That's a very insulting sort of man," remarked Captain
Giles--superfluously, I thought. "Very insulting. You haven't offended
him in some way, have you?"
"Never spoke to him in my life," I said grumpily. "Can't imagine what
he means by competing. He has been trying for my job after I left--and
didn't get it. But that isn't exactly competition."
Captain Giles balanced his big benevolent head thoughtfully. "He didn't
get it,"