The After House

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  CHAPTER IV

  I RECEIVE A WARNING

  The odor of formaldehyde in the forecastle having abated, permissionfor the crew to sleep on deck had been withdrawn. But the weather aswe turned south had grown insufferably hot. The reek of the forecastlesickened me--the odor of fresh paint, hardly dry, of musty clothing andsweaty bodies.

  I asked Singleton, the first mate, for permission to sleep on deck, andwas refused. I went down, obediently enough, to be driven back withnausea. And so, watching my chance, I waited until the first mate, onwatch, disappeared into the forward cabin to eat the night lunch alwaysprepared by the cook and left there. Then, with a blanket and pillow,I crawled into the starboard lifeboat, and settled myself for thenight. The lookout saw me, but gave no sign.

  It was not a bad berth. As the ship listed, the stars seemed to swayabove me, and my last recollection was of the Great Dipper, performingdignified gyrations in the sky.

  I was aroused by one of the two lookouts, a young fellow named Burns.He was standing below, rapping on the side of the boat with hisknuckles. I sat up and peered over at him, and was conscious for thefirst time that the weather had changed. A fine rain was falling; myhair and shirt were wet.

  "Something doing in the chart-room," he said cautiously. "Thought youmight not want to miss it."

  He was in his bare feet, as was I. Together we hurried to the afterhouse. The steersman, in oilskins, was at his post, but was peeringthrough the barred window into the chart-room, which was brilliantlylighted. He stepped aside somewhat to let us look in. The loud andfurious voices which had guided us had quieted, but the situation hadnot relaxed.

  Singleton, the first mate, and Turner were sitting at a table litteredwith bottles and glasses, and standing over them, white with fury, wasCaptain Richardson. In the doorway to the main cabin, dressed inpajamas and a bathrobe, Vail was watching the scene.

  "I told you last night, Mr. Turner," the captain said, banging thetable with his fist, "I won't have you interfering with my officers, orwith my ship. That man's on duty, and he's drunk."

  "Your ship!" Turner sneered thickly. "It's my ship, and I--I dischargeyou."

  He got to his feet, holding to the table. "Mr. Singleton--hic--fromnow on you're captain. Captain Singleton! How--how d'ye like it?"

  Mr. Vail came forward, the only cool one of the four.

  "Don't be a fool, Marsh," he protested. "Come to bed. The captain'sright."

  Turner turned his pale-blue eyes on Vail, and they were as full ofdanger as a snake's. "You go to hell!" he said. "Singleton, you'rethe captain, d'ye hear? If Rich--if Richardson gets funny, put him--inirons."

  Singleton stood up, with a sort of swagger. He wes less intoxicatedthan Turner, but ugly enough. He faced the captain with a leer.

  "Sorry, old fellow," he said, "but you heard what Turner said!"

  The captain drew a deep breath. Then, without any warning, he leanedacross the table and shot out his clenched fist. It took the mate onthe point of the chin, and he folded up in a heap on the floor.

  "Good old boy!" muttered Burns, beside me. "Good old boy!"

  Turner picked up a bottle from the table, and made the sameincoordinate pass with it at the captain as he had at me the morningbefore with his magazine. The captain did not move. He was a big man,and he folded his arms with their hairy wrists across his chest.

  "Mr. Turner," he said, "while we are on the sea I am in command here.You know that well enough. You are drunk to-night; in the morning youwill be sober; and I want you to remember what I am going to say. Ifyou interfere again--with--me--or--myofficers--I--shall--put--you--in--irons."

  He started for the after companionway, and Burns and I hurried forwardout of his way, Burns to the lookout, I to make the round of the afterhouse and bring up, safe from detection, by the wheel again. The matewas in a chair, looking sick and dazed, and Turner and Vail wereconfronting each other.

  "You know that is a lie," Vail was saying. "She is faithful to you, asfar as I know, although I'm damned if I know why." He turned to themate roughly: "Better get out in the air."

  Once again I left my window to avoid discovery. The mate, walkingslowly, made his way up the companionway to the rail. The man at thewheel reported in the forecastle, when he came down at the end of hiswatch, that Singleton had seemed dazed, and had stood leaning againstthe rail for some time, occasionally cursing to himself; that thesecond mate had come on deck, and had sent him to bed; and that thecaptain was shut in his cabin with the light going.

  There was much discussion of the incident among the crew. Sympathy waswith the captain, and there was a general feeling that the end had notcome. Charlie Jones, reading his Bible on the edge of his bunk, voicedthe general belief.

  "Knowin' the Turners, hull and mast," he said, "and having sailed withCaptain Richardson off and on for ten years, the chances is good of ourhaving a hell of a time. It ain't natural, anyhow, this voyage with norats in the hold, and all the insects killed with this hereformaldehyde, and ice-cream sent to the fo'c'sle on Sundays!"

  But at first the thing seemed smoothed over. It is true that thecaptain did not speak to the first mate except when compelled to, andthat Turner and the captain ignored each other elaborately. The cruisewent on without event. There was no attempt on Turner's part to carryout his threat of the night before; nor did he, as the crew hadprophesied, order the Ella into the nearest port. He kept much tohimself, spending whole days below, with Williams carrying himhighballs, always appearing at dinner, however, sodden of face butimmaculately dressed, and eating little or nothing.

  A week went by in this fashion, luring us all to security. I was stilllean but fairly strong again. Vail, left to himself or to the women ofthe party, took to talking with me now and then. I thought he wasuneasy. More than once he expressed a regret that he had taken thecruise, laying his discontent to the long inaction. But the real reasonwas Turner's jealousy of him, the obsession of the dipsomaniac. I knewit, and Vail knew that I knew.

  On the 8th we encountered bad weather, the first wind of the cruise.All hands were required for tacking, and I was stationed on theforecastle-head with one other man. Williams, the butler, succumbed tothe weather, and at five o'clock Miss Lee made her way forward throughthe driving rain, and asked me if I could take his place.

  "If the captain needs you, we can manage," she said. "We haveHenrietta and Karen, the two maids. But Mr. Turner prefers a man toserve."

  I said that I was probably not so useful that I could not be spared,and that I would try. Vail's suggestion had come back to me, and thiswas my chance to get Williams's keys. Miss Lee having spoken to thecaptain, I was relieved from duty, and went aft with her. What with theplunging of the vessel and the slippery decks, she almost fell twice,and each time I caught her.

  The second time, she wrenched her ankle, and stood for a moment holdingto the rail, while I waited beside her. She wore a heavy ulster ofsome rough material, and a small soft hat of the same material, pulledover her ears. Her soft hair lay wet across her forehead.

  "How are you liking the sea, Leslie?" she said, after she had testedher ankle and found the damage inconsiderable.

  "Very much, Miss Lee."

  "Do you intend to remain a--a sailor?"

  "I am not a sailor. I am a deck steward, and I am about to become abutler."

  "That was our agreement," she flashed at me.

  "Certainly. And to know that I intend to fulfill it to the letter, Ihave only to show this."

  It had been one of McWhirter's inspirations, on learning how I had beenengaged, the small book called "The Perfect Butler." I took it fromthe pocket of my flannel shirt, under my oilskins, and held it out toher.

  "I have not got very far," I said humbly. "It's not inspiring reading.I've got the wine glasses straightened out, but it seems a lot of fussabout nothing. Wine is wine, isn't it? What difference, after all,does a hollow stem or green glass make--"

  The rain
was beating down on us. The "Perfect Butler" was weepingtears; as its chart of choice vintages was mixed with water. Miss Leelooked up, smiling, from the book.

  "You prefer 'a jug of wine,"' she said.

  "Old Omar had the right idea; only I imagine, literally, it was a skinof wine. They didn't have jugs, did they?"

  "You know the 'Rubaiyat'?" she asked slowly.

  "I know the jug of wine and loaf of bread part," I admitted, irritatedat the slip. "In my home city they're using it to advertise aparticular sort of bread. You know--'A book of verses underneath thebough, a loaf of Wiggin's home-made bread, and thou."'

  In spite of myself, in spite of the absurd verse, of the pouring rain,of the fact that I was shortly to place her dinner before her in thecapacity of upper servant, I thrilled to the last two words.

  "'And thou,'" I repeated.

  She looked up at me, startled, and for a second our glances held. Thenext moment she was gone, and I was alone on a rain swept deck, cursingmy folly.

  That night, in a white linen coat, I served dinner in the after house.The meal was unusually gay, rendered so by the pitching of the boat andthe uncertainty of the dishes. In the general hilarity, my awkwardnesswent unnoticed. Miss Lee, sitting beside Vail, devoted herself to him.Mrs. Johns, young and blonde, tried to interest Turner, and, failing inthat, took to watching me, to my discomfiture. Mrs. Turner, withapprehensive eyes on her husband, ate little and drank nothing.

  Dinner over in the main cabin, they lounged into the chart-room--exceptMrs. Johns, who, following them to the door, closed it behind them andcame back. She held a lighted cigarette, and she stood just outsidethe zone of candlelight, watching me through narrowed eyes.

  "You got along very well to-night," she observed. "Are you quitestrong again?"

  "Quite strong, Mrs. Johns."

  "You have never done this sort of thing before, have you?"

  "Butler's work? No--but it is rather simple."

  "I thought perhaps you had," she said. "I seem to recall you,vaguely--that is, I seem to remember a crowd of people, and a noise--Idare say I did see you in a crowd somewhere. You know, you are ratheran unforgettable type."

  I was nonplused as to how a butler would reply to such a statement, andtook refuge in no reply at all. As it happened, none was needed. Theship gave a terrific roll at that moment, and I just saved theChartreuse as it was leaving the table. Mrs. Johns was holding to achair.

  "Well caught," she smiled, and, taking a fresh cigarette, she bent overa table-lamp and lighted it herself. All the time her eyes were on me,I felt that she was studying one over her cigarette, with something inview.

  "Is it still raining?"

  "Yes, Mrs. Johns."

  "Will you get a wrap from Karen and bring it to me on deck? I--I wantair to-night."

  The forward companionway led down into the main cabin. She movedtoward it, her pale green gown fading into the shadow. At the foot ofthe steps she turned and looked back at me. I had been stupid enough,but I knew then that she had something to say to me, something that shewould not trust to the cabin walls. I got the wrap.

  She was sitting in a deck-chair when I found her, on the lee side ofthe after house, a position carefully chosen, with only the storeroomwindows behind. I gave her the wrap, and she flung it over her withoutrising.

  "Sit down, Leslie," she said, pointing to the chair beside her. And,as I hesitated, "Don't be silly, boy. Else Lee and her sister may beas blind as they like. You are not a sailor, or a butler, either. Idon't care what you are: I'm not going to ask any questions. Sit down;I have to talk to some one."

  I sat on the edge of the chair, somewhat uneasy, to tell the truth. Thecrew were about on a night like that, and at any moment Elsa Lee mightavail herself of the dummy hand, as she sometimes did, and run up for abreath of air or a glimpse of the sea.

  "Just now, Mrs. Johns;" I said, "I am one of the crew of the Ella, andif I am seen here--"

  "Oh, fudge!" she retorted impatiently. "My reputation isn't going tobe hurt, and the man's never is. Leslie, I am frightened--you knowwhat I mean."

  "Turner?"

  "Yes."

  "You mean--with the captain?"

  "With any one who happens to be near. He is dangerous. It is Vailnow. He thinks Mr. Vail is in love with his wife. The fact is thatVail--well, never mind about that. The point is this: this afternoonhe had a dispute with Williams, and knocked him down. The other womendon't know it. Vail told me. We have given out that Williams isseasick. It will be Vail next, and, if he puts a hand on him, Vailwill kill him; I know him."

  "We could stop this drinking."

  "And have him shoot up the ship! I have been thinking all evening, andonly one thing occurs to me. We are five women and two men, and Vailrefuses to be alarmed. I want you to sleep in the after house. Isn'tthere a storeroom where you could put a cot?"

  "Yes," I agreed, "and I'll do it, of course, if you are uneasy, but Ireally think--"

  "Never mind what you really think. I haven't slept for three nights,and I'm showing it." She made a motion to rise, and I helped her up.She was a tall woman, and before I knew it she had put both her handson my shoulders.

  "You are a poor butler, and an indifferent sailor, I believe," shesaid, "but you are rather a dear. Thank you."

  She left me, alternately uplifted and sheepish. But that night I tooka blanket and a pillow into the storeroom, and spread my six feet oflength along the greatest diameter of a four-by-seven pantry.

  And that night, also, between six and seven bells, with the stormsubsided and only a moderate sea, Schwartz, the second mate, wentoverboard--went without a cry, without a sound.

  Singleton, relieving him at four o'clock, found his cap lying nearstarboard, just forward of the after house. The helmsman and the twomen in the lookout reported no sound of a struggle. The lookout hadseen the light of his cigar on the forecastle-head at six bells (threeo'clock). At seven bells he had walked back to the helmsman andcommented cheerfully on the break in the weather. That was the lastseen of him.

  The alarm was raised when Singleton went on watch at four o'clock. TheElla was heaved to and the lee boat lowered. At the same timelife-buoys were thrown out, and patent lights. But the early summerdawn revealed a calm ocean; and no sign of the missing mate.

  At ten o'clock the order was reluctantly given to go on.