by W. W. Jacobs
Produced by David Widger
CAPTAINS ALL
By W.W. Jacobs
THE BOATSWAIN'S MATE
"The Boatswain's Mate"]
Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with adespondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in hishand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair,eyed him with some heat.
"My feelings'll never change," said the boatswain.
"Nor mine either," said the landlady, sharply. "It's a strange thing,Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third mug."
"It's only to get my courage up," pleaded the boatswain. "Next time I'lldo it afore I 'ave a drop; that'll prove to you I'm in earnest."
He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could make aselection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.
After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road seemed hotand dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a man whose handhas been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on unheeding. Hissteps lagged, but his brain was active.
He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady banktook a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe. The heatand the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the corner ofhis mouth, and his eyes closed.
He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling in hispocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder. He saw a tall mancarrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage, thekeen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting the oldsoldier.
The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed himpleasantly.
"Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?" he inquired.
The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept thatluxury.
"Lobster, ain't you?" he said, affably.
The tall man nodded. "Was," he replied. "Now I'm my own commander-in-chief."
"Padding it?" suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him andrefilling his pipe.
The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversationdropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him. "I've gotplenty of time," he remarked.
Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence. A dim idea whichhad been in his mind for some time began to clarify. He stole a glanceat his companion--a man of about thirty-eight, clear eyes, with humorouswrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a cheerful expressionmore than tinged with recklessness.
"Ain't over and above fond o' work?" suggested the boatswain, when he hadfinished his inspection.
"I love it," said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, "but wecan't have all we want in this world; it wouldn't be good for us."
The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed. Then he rattled hispocket.
"Would arf a quid be any good to you?" he inquired.
"Look here," began the soldier; "just because I asked you for a pipe o'baccy--"
"No offence," said the other, quickly. "I mean if you earned it?"
The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. "Gardening andwindows?" he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.
The boatswain shook his head.
"Scrubbing, p'r'aps?" said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation."Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me ofpouching the soap. Hang 'em!"
"And you didn't?" queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.
The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at himdarkly. "I can't give it back to you," he said, slowly, "because I'vesmoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only gottwopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey, and next timea poor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil."
"I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,"expostulated the boat-swain. "I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.Good reasons they was."
The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.
"I spoke of arf a sovereign just now," continued the boatswain,impressively, "and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o'burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of yourhonesty."
"_Burgling?_" gasped the astonished soldier. "_Honesty?_ 'Struth; areyou drunk or am I?"
"Meaning," said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand,"for you to pretend to be a burglar."
"We're both drunk, that's what it is," said the other, resignedly.
The boatswain fidgeted. "If you don't agree, mum's the word and no 'armdone," he said, holding out his hand.
"Mum's the word," said the soldier, taking it. "My name's Ned Travers,and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing against it.Mind that."
"Might 'appen to anybody," said Mr. Benn, soothingly. "You fill yourpipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin."
Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity,stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away. Then heresumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other "fireaway."
"I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet," said Mr. Benn, slowly,"but it's in my mind's eye. It's been there off and on like for sometime."
He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge. "Twomiles from here, where I live," he said, after several vigorous puffs,"there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wotI've got my eye on."
The soldier sat up.
"She won't 'ave me," said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise.
The soldier leaned back again.
"She's a lone widder," continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, "and theBeehive is in a lonely place. It's right through the village, and thenearest house is arf a mile off."
"Silly place for a pub," commented Mr. Travers.
"I've been telling her 'ow unsafe it is," said the boatswain. "I've beentelling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she only laughs atme. She don't believe it; d'ye see? Likewise I'm a small man--small,but stiff. She likes tall men."
"Most women do," said Mr. Travers, sitting upright and instinctivelytwisting his moustache. "When I was in the ranks--"
"My idea is," continued the boatswain, slightly raising his voice, "tokill two birds with one stone--prove to her that she does want beingprotected, and that I'm the man to protect her. D'ye take my meaning,mate?"
The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps. "Like a lumpo' wood," he said, approvingly.
"My opinion is," said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, "that she lovesme without knowing it."
"They often do," said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his head.
"Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed," said the other.
"It does you credit," remarked Mr. Travers.
"I've got a good head," said Mr. Benn, "else I shouldn't 'ave got myrating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it over in mymind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with it. Now, ifyou do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all right, damme I'llmake it a quid."
"Go on, Vanderbilt," said Mr. Travers; "I'm listening."
The boatswain gazed at him fixedly. "You meet me 'ere in this spot ateleven o'clock to-night," he said, solemnly; "and I'll take you to her'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of. You goes upstairsand alarms her, and she screams for help. I'm watching the house,faithful-like, and hear 'er scream. I dashes in at the winder, knocksyou down, and rescues her. D'ye see?"
"I hear," corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.
"She clings to me," continued the boat-swain, with a rapt expression offace, "in her gratitood, and,
proud of my strength and pluck, she marriesme."
"An' I get a five years' honeymoon," said the soldier.
The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder. "In theexcitement of the moment you spring up and escape," he said, with akindly smile.