I told her so one day when she was down watching us work and arguing with Voogdt. We were putting a patch in the foresail, and, as it was wet weather, were working in the cabin. The place was full of the crumbled heavy canvas and she had to stand by the door. First she started bossing about, of course. Our sewing was all wrong, according to her, but after a weak demonstration of how it ought to be done she took off the heavy leather sailmaker’s palm, gave up her needle to Voogdt and started arguing about something else.
I forget what it was all about—something over my head, most likely—but Voogdt posed her with a remark she pretended wasn’t worth answering.
‘So I’ll answer it as men answer their wives when they’re worsted in argument,’ she said. ‘I’ll swear. That saves mighty man the trouble of thinking. “Damned nonsense,” he’d say, and call it an argument. And your argument is damned nonsense.’
I looked up from my sewing and told her how she reminded me of the kid breaking the teacup. Voogdt laughed aloud, and she turned on him in a flash.
‘Who’s mother?’ she demanded.
‘Oh ho! I know,’ said he. ‘And so do you, Miss B.Sc. She’s a big, old lady is mother and her name begins with an N. You wait till she’s got time to beckon to you. You’ll get it. You’ll find trouble waiting for you somewhere.’
That was his way of talking. I could make neither head nor tail of it, but Miss Brand seemed to understand well enough, for her face went crimson. But she stood her ground.
‘I defy her,’ she cried, laughing too, for all her flushed face. ‘I defy her. Others she may discipline, but not me. I’m an educated woman. What’s education for, if we can’t shake off these chains? How about you, if it comes to that?’
I stared in astonishment, wondering what on earth she meant; but Voogdt took her up quickly enough.
‘Time enough,’ he said. ‘Besides, I’m a looker-on by temperament.’ Then he turned serious. ‘I’m tainted, too. I’ve only half-a-lung on one side. Keep to the point: you talk of educated women; haven’t there been any desertions from your ranks?’
‘Dozens. The weaker vessels. We grow stronger by eliminating them. I shall never desert. I’m armed at all points.’
‘Say that to me ten years hence,’ said Voogdt, shaking a finger at her. ‘I tell you mother’s coming for you, teacup-smasher. In the dusk of some warm evening or the cool of some fresh dawn when the birds sing—just when you least expect it—she’ll come downstairs and you’ll find she’s got a slipper handy for her naughty child. Poor slipper,’ he said, laughing slyly.
‘Dropping into proverbs is the surest sign of a failing intellect,’ she retorted impudently. ‘Proverbs, scripture, or poetry, you can quote ’em all both ways.’
‘Here’s a proverb for you Miss Brand,’ I said. ‘“A stitch in time saves nine.”’ There’s a little tear in this sail just by your foot, and if you’ll kindly step outside the door or sit down and lift your feet off the canvas for a minute I’ll pull it round so that I can mend it.’
She sat on a locker, her feet stuck out straight before her, and by the time the tear was mended the conversation had shifted to some other subject.
The wind hanging in the west, now light, now strong, we had a week ashore, and a very pleasant week it was under the circumstances. There was work to do, of course, but nothing out of the way, and we patched sails and set up shrouds and pottered about generally from morning till dusk. Ward would join us at about midday and the girls in the afternoon; then after tea they went back to Terneuzen together and we put on our shore clothes and joined them at dinner.
Very jolly, those parties were. Sometimes we’d chat and sometimes play cards; but whatever we did we always felt we were welcome. I believe Ward would have admitted he was rather glad of the partnership than otherwise. All the sea part of the business had been in Cheyne’s hands hitherto, and whether Ward trusted him or not I could never tell. He couldn’t like him much, that was certain; no man could stand the chap for long, especially the quiet student type of man. He was too blatant, too ignorant, for even me to like; and Ward in his heart may have been glad to have Voogdt and myself to share his responsibility.
In pursuance of the new arrangements I sacked Rance, giving him his fare home, and told ’Kiah he must be prepared to leave us at the first English port we touched.
He refused to go, as flatly as a South Devon man can refuse anything, which is as much as to say he argued about it.
‘Wha’s that for?’ he demanded.
I told him our employers were cutting down expenses, and that Mr Cheyne was going to help work the Luck and Charity, whereupon he promptly offered to stay for nothing.
‘Yu, and ’e, and Mr Vute, there idn’ one of ’e can cook,’ he said.
‘Nonsense. Two of us can as you know.’
‘Skipper an’ mate cookin’! ’Tis redicklus. Yu let me stay. I don’t want no pay f’r a month’r tu. I done middlin’ well out o’ yu lately—an’ there won’t be nothin’ goin’ on ’ome till March, when salmon fishin’ starts. Yu let me stop along o’ yu an’ bear a ’and for my grub an’ lodge.’
‘Orders are orders, and go you must,’ I said. ‘And there’s an end of it.’
But he only grumbled and maundered on. ‘What du ’em want t’ sack me for if I don’t want no pay? Funny sort o’ comp’ny they be, not to let a man bear a’ ’and when ’e’s ready to du it f’r naught. Yu let me stay before when times was ’ard.’
‘Funny sort o’ comp’ny,’ struck the note I feared—the note of suspicion—and again I began to feel sorry for my partners in crime. They’d been dreading these little suspicions for months, but this was my first experience in that line, and I didn’t like it. So I said no more, and at dinner that night reported the whole conversation.
‘Do you think he suspects anything?’ Ward asked.
‘Suspect? Not he!’ Voogdt took the words out of my mouth. ‘But he’ll talk, if he’s sacked. Half the South Devon waterside’ll hear of it in a fortnight: how West, who allowed ’Kiah to spend a winter with him on no pay and a fish diet, sacked him on the plea of economy and replaced him by Cheyne, who obviously is a more expensive article. We shall have to keep him on.’
‘I won’t have it,’ I said. ‘It’s all very well to risk our own lives, but—’
‘He must take his chance, that’s all. All’s risk at sea. You daren’t raise his pay now, but we’ll insure his life behind his back in favour of his relatives, and bank him a good bonus now and then. That’s as much as we can do. We daren’t sack him.’
‘More expense,’ Cheyne growled, but Austin spiked his guns at once.
‘My dear chap,’ he said affably, ‘the extra expense is really a small matter. It needn’t touch the founders’ shares. West and myself’ll do all that. Besides, see how much trouble is saved all round. You stay over here managing the part of the business you’re accustomed to. There’ll be no need to shift anybody here in your place, or to make changes, anyone of which may excite remark. On reflection, I’m sure you’ll agree it’s the best plan.’
Cheyne agreed at that, you may be sure; but the other three looked thoughtful. I said nothing, meaning to go for Voogdt later, but Miss Brand, as usual, had some remarks to make.
‘I quite agree with the bonuses and all that sort of thing’ she put in. ‘But for one I’m inclined to agree with Capt.—Mr West as well. If there’s going to be any risks of shooting, ’Kiah should be warned. I’ll do it.’
We all cried out at that, Cheyne loudest of all. ‘You’ll give the show away,’ he said.
‘No, I won’t. I’ll scare the big lump out of his sea-boots, though, if I know my Devonshire.’
‘You’re not from Devon, are you?’ I asked.
‘Not I. I’m Lancashire. But I know something of the Celt, and I know sailors. Leave it to me.’
When we got outside the hotel I went for Voogdt.
‘You’re not playing the game, Austin,’ I told him.
‘
Guilty, I admit,’ said he. ‘But look at the thing dispassionately, Jem. Isn’t the winter trade risk at best?’
‘Granted. But—’
‘You grant it. Well, this is an extra risk for which ’Kiah’ll get extra pay. If you sack him, what happens—to him, I mean? He’ll go home, and idle, and grumble and slack about with his cronies, and his family’ll live on him till salmon time comes. Then he’ll go out in the boats every day, and get drunk with the other men every night till the season’s over, and then he’ll want another job. By that time he’ll be no better off than when you first took him on. Better keep him on board, even with the extra risk, for his own sake.’
‘You’d argue black was white, if it suited your purpose,’ I said doubtfully.
‘Not in this case, for I think as much of the man as you do. But here’s my own case, apart from ’Kiah’s interests. If he’s sacked he’ll chatter. You know he will. Then the Topsham boats’ll take the tale to Exmouth; Exmouth’ll tell it to Budleigh and Dawlish; and they’ll talk about us in the drift boats by night and over the crab pots in the morning till in a month ’Kiah’s grievance has been discussed in every pub and every port and every boat between Lyme Regis and the Start. Next time we go west, every eye on the coast’ll be looking out for us, every tongue wagging about our business; and, I tell you straight, I don’t mean to have this plum snatched away just as I’m getting it to my mouth. And there’s another point which may appeal even to you—’
‘What’s that?’
‘Cheyne. How long could you stand having him aboard, think you? Here are we—you, ’Kiah and myself—a happy family. But Cheyne—’
‘Say no more,’ I said. ‘I give in. My principles won’t stand that strain. But, mind, we must do the square thing by ’Kiah, behind his back. Those bonuses—’
‘Of course we will,’ said Voogdt, and there the matter ended for the time being.
Next day Miss Brand came down to the Luck and Charity in the middle of the morning. Rance was gone, and ’Kiah was busy in the forecastle getting our midday meal. After a few words with us she went forward and sat down on the top of the companion ladder, apparently discussing methods of cooking, by way of setting ’Kiah at his ease. Within half-an-hour she was down in the forecastle, sitting knees to nose before the stove, deep in conversation. Having occasion to go forward I confess I lingered by the hatch to listen, and as far as I could judge she was giving ’Kiah thrills up the back.
I went aft to where Voogdt was reeving a new mainsheet.
‘What’s she doing down there?’ he asked.
‘Frightening ’Kiah with ghost stories, as far as I can make out.’
‘What a ready-witted hussy it is,’ he said admiringly. ‘Not one of us would have thought of that. Bet you anything you like she scares him ashore.’
‘I’ll bet you she doesn’t,’ I said. I felt bound to stick up for ’Kiah, but I confess I was doubtful, for they’re queer cattle, some of the men from the Devon waterside. Besides, I’d heard a quaver in his voice that was a testimony to Miss Brand’s story-telling powers.
In the end her plan had results none of us had anticipated. Though I suspected he was badly scared, ’Kiah stayed on without remark, which gave me a better opinion of his intelligence. But the evening we were due to sail, when the warps were cast off, the Luck and Charity refused to move. Her bows swung free of the wharf, but her stern was immovable, and try all we could we were unable to shift her. We pushed and strained until we were nearly exhausted, and in the end had to give up the attempt. ’Kiah, questioned, suggested sulkily that we had been ‘overlooked,’ by which he meant bewitched; but low tide revealed a length of chain made fast round our rudder and lashed firmly to the piles of the wharf. ’Kiah at first denied all knowledge of it, but afterwards broke down and confessed with tears that Miss Brand having dreamed three times that we sailed on an evening tide and were drowned, he had taken this means of ensuring a departure in the morning. Voogdt choked, and bolted below to hide his laughter, and though we had missed a tide I could scarcely keep a straight face whilst I gave ’Kiah the slanging he deserved. He whimpered, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, and then went forward and got on with his work. I am positive that he considered he had saved our lives, and had been rather harshly treated in return for such a service. However, we had no more bother of the same sort, and that was the last attempt to induce him to desert us.
CHAPTER XII
CONCERNING THE ETHICS OF PARTNERSHIP
WITH RANCE gone and Voogdt’s insatiable curiosity allayed we put to sea, partners now in the concern, with fairly bright prospects, and I naturally thought everything in future would be peaceable and pleasant. We had made all arrangements as definitely as possible: the superfluous men and ships were to be paid off, and now that we were no longer working in the dark it seemed to me all we had to do was to make quick voyages and our fortunes at one and the same time.
True, the German menace, as Voogdt persisted in calling the competing firm, remained a puzzle, and we were unable to come to any agreement about them. Sitting in council, Cheyne had insisted that they were bona-fide traders and pooh-poohed Voogdt’s tale of the shooting.
‘Can’t blame you for being suspicious,’ he said. ‘This trade makes one suspicious, as I’ve found. But their explanation holds water as far as I can see. It was just an accident, only you were scared and made more of it.’
‘Fifty quid paid by a quay lumper to a fo’castle hand for an accident?’ Voogdt sneered.
‘Accident or no accident I don’t care,’ said Cheyne. ‘What I go by is my own observations. Five coasters have called down there and left cargoes, and not one of them has ballasted from there. On the other hand they’ve sent away two small barges loaded deep and flying the B swallow-tail—the red powder flag. Rifles or no, you can’t get away from that.’
‘But what are we to do?’ he asked. ‘Are we to take no notice of them at all?—treat ’em as if they were just fools, or be on our guard against them? The syndicate’s opinion, please.’
Ward shrugged his shoulders.
‘I don’t profess to know anything about it,’ he said. ‘You three must settle this affair between yourselves.’
‘Miss Lavington?’
Miss Lavington agreed with Mr Ward, but of course Miss Brand had something to say.
‘This running-down business—are you sure it was intentional, and can you connect that with the shooting?’
‘We can’t connect the two attempts,’ Voogdt said. ‘But intentional? Yes; I’ll swear it was that.’
She turned to me. ‘And you?’ she demanded.
‘They certainly cut down the dinghy. I can’t positively say more than that. But I think Voogdt’s right, all the same.’
‘Then if they’re not bona-fide traders, and if they were behind that attempt, it won’t do to regard them as fools, will it?’
‘They’re not fools, be sure of that, Miss Brand,’ Voogdt said. ‘I don’t think they’re traders any more than we are, but even if they were we must pay them the compliment of believing them intelligent. Our pretence of genuine trading must be kept up, if only for their benefit.’
‘I think so, too,’ she said, and I agreed. The other two declined to interfere, so though Cheyne sneered and talked of waste it was decided that we must go on as before, shipping cargoes at a loss, but exercising all possible care to see the precious ballast consignments didn’t go astray. The idea of those sharp-eyed, unscrupulous people at our very door worried me, I confess; but I couldn’t see any way of avoiding them, and Voogdt had no suggestions to make, so we had no alternative but to keep a sharp look-out, get on with the work and—unless they molested us—make our fortunes, quick and easy.
There we were mistaken. The German firm didn’t bother us again; we had our old happy family aboard; the suspicions and conjectures that used to worry us were all at rest; winter was wearing on to spring; and yet we found more worry as partners than ever we had as employees.
; To start with, we made a bad passage, foul weather all the way, and once arrived at Dartmouth my first experience of the syndicate’s shore methods nearly worried me sick.
We had all our ballast out, lying on the quay—thirty-five tons of it, worth a good eight thousand pounds—and were moored off in midstream waiting for tide, when I saw a labourer come up with a horse and cart and start loading up with the mud. I’d had two days of fidgeting at every pore every time a child walked over the heap, and this sent me into a cold perspiration.
‘See that?’ I said to Voogdt.
He nodded. ‘We must put up with it,’ was all he said.
‘I can’t,’ I said. ‘I must go ashore and find out where that’s going.’
‘Sit tight,’ said he. ‘You can’t do anything. Grin and bear it.’
‘Man, he’ll take away many hundredweights of the stuff.’
‘Half-a-ton, or thereabouts.’ He tried to speak calmly. ‘Over a hundred quid at a time. Ghastly, isn’t it? But we must sit tight and put up with it. I’m beginning to feel sorry for our partners. They’ve stood this sort of thing for over a year.’
‘I can’t stand it a single hour,’ I said. ‘I’m going ashore to find out who he is.’
‘I’ll go,’ Voogdt said. ‘You’ll make a mess of it, for certain. You’re too much the simple sailor. Stay here, and I’ll find out all I can.’
The Mystery of the Mud Flats Page 14