Light Freights

by W. W. Jacobs

  The crew of the Elisabeth Hopkins sat on deck in the gloaming, gazingidly at the dusky shapes of the barges as they dropped silently down onthe tide, or violently discussing the identity of various steamers asthey came swiftly past. Even with these amusements the time hungheavily, and they thought longingly of certain cosy bars by theriverside to which they were wont to betake themselves in their sparetime.

  To-night, in deference to the wishes of the skipper, wishes whichapproximated closely to those of Royalty in their effects, they remainedon board. A new acquaintance of his, a brother captain, who dabbled inmesmerism, was coming to give them a taste of his quality, and theskipper, sitting on the side of the schooner in the faint light whichstreamed from the galley, was condescendingly explaining to them themarvels of hypnotism.

  "I never 'eard the likes of it," said one, with a deep breath, as theskipper concluded a marvellous example.

  "There's a lot you ain't 'eard of, Bill," said another, whose temper wassuffering from lack of beer. "But 'ave you seen all this, sir?"

  "Everything," said the skipper, impressively. "He wanted to mesmeriseme, an' I said, 'All right,' I ses, 'do it an' welcome--if you can, butI expect my head's a bit too strong for you.'"

  "And it was, sir, I'll bet," said the man who had been so candid withBill.

  "He tried everything," said the skipper, "then he give it up; but he'scoming aboard to-night, so any of you that likes can come down the cabinand be mesmerised free."

  "Why can't he do it on deck?" said the mate, rising from the hatches andstretching his gigantic form.

  "'Cos he must have artificial light, George," said the skipper. "He letsme a little bit into the secret, you know, an' he told me he likes tohave the men a bit dazed-like first."

  Voices sounded from the wharf, and the night-watchman appeared pilotingCaptain Zingall to the schooner. The crew noticed that he came aboardquite like any other man, descending the ladder with even more care thanusual. He was a small man, of much dignity, with light grey eyes whichhad been so strained by the exercise of his favourite hobby that theyappeared to be starting from his head. He chatted agreeably aboutfreights for some time, and then, at his brother skipper's urgententreaty, consented to go below and give them a taste of his awfulpowers.

  At first he was not very successful. The men stared at the discs he putinto their hands until their eyes ached, but for some time withouteffect. Bill was the first to yield, and to the astonishment of hisfriends passed into a soft magnetic slumber, from which he emerged toperform the usual idiotic tricks peculiar to mesmerised subjects.

  "It's wonderful what power you 'ave over em," said Captain Bradd,respectfully.

  Captain Zingall smiled affably. "At the present moment," he said, "thatman is my unthinkin' slave, an' whatever I wish him to do he does. Wouldany of you like him to do anything?"

  "Well, sir," said one of the men, "'e owes me 'arf a crown, an' I thinkit would be a 'ighly interestin' experiment if you could get 'im to payme. If anything 'ud make me believe in mesmerism, that would."

  "An' he owes me eighteenpence, sir," said another seaman, eagerly.

  "One at a time," said the first speaker, sharply.

  "An' 'e's owed me five shillin's since I don't know when," said thecook, with dishonest truthfulness.

  Captain Zingall turned to his subject. "You owe that man half a crown,"he said, pointing, "that one eighteenpence, and that one five shillings.Pay them."

  In the most matter-of-fact way in the world Bill groped in his pockets,and, producing some greasy coins, payed the sums mentioned, to theintense delight of everybody.

  "Well, I'm blest," said the mate, staring. "I thought mesmerism was allrubbish. Now bring him to again."

  "But don't tell 'im wot 'e's been doin'," said the cook.

  Zingall with a few passes brought his subject round, and with a subduedair he took his place with the others.

  "What'd it feel like, Bill?" asked Joe. "Can you remember what you did?"

  Bill shook his head.

  "Don't try to," said the cook, feelingly.

  "I should like to put you under the influence," said Zingall, eyeing themate.

  "You couldn't," said that gentleman, promptly.

  "Let me try," said Zingall, persuasively.

  "Do," said the skipper, "to oblige me, George."

  "Well, I don't mind much," said the mate, hesitating; "but no making megive those chaps money, you know."

  "No, no," said Zingall.

  "Wot does 'e mean? Give the chaps money?" said Bill, turning with astartled air to the cook.

  "I dunno," said the cook airily. "Just watch 'im, Bill," he added,anxiously.

  But Bill had something better to do, and feeling in his pocketshurriedly strove to balance his cash account. It was impossible to doanything else while he was doing it, and the situation became sostrained and his language so weird that the skipper was compelled in theinterest of law and morality to order him from the cabin.

  "Look at me," said Zingall to the mate after quiet had been restored.

  The mate complied, and everybody gazed spellbound at the tussle forsupremacy between brute force and occult science. Slowly, very slowly,science triumphed, being interrupted several times by the blood-curdlingthreats of Bill, as they floated down the companion-way. Then the matesuddenly lurched forward, and would have fallen but that strong handscaught him and restored him to his seat.

  "I'm going to show you something now, if I can," said Zingall, wipinghis brow; "but I don't know how it'll come off, because I'm only abeginner at this sort of thing, and I've never tried this before. If youdon't mind, cap'n, I'm going to tell him he is Cap'n Bradd, and that youare the mate."

  "Go ahead," said the delighted Bradd.

  Captain Zingall went ahead full speed. With a few rapid passes he rousedthe mate from his torpor and fixed him with his glittering eye.

  "You are Cap'n Bradd, master o' this ship," he said slowly.

  "Ay, ay," said the mate, earnestly.

  "And that's your mate," George, said Zingall, pointing to the deeplyinterested Bradd.

  "Ay, ay," said the mate again, with a sigh.

  "Take command, then," said Zingall, leaving him with a satisfied air andseating himself on the locker.

  The mate sat up and looked about him with an air of quiet authority.

  "George," he said, turning suddenly to the skipper with a very passableimitation of his voice.

  "Sir," said the skipper, with a playful glance at Zingall.

  "A friend o' mine named Cap'n Zingall is coming aboard to-night," saidthe mate, slowly. "Get a little whisky for him out o' my state-room."

  "Ay, ay, sir," said the amused Bradd.

  "Just a little in the bottom of the bottle 'll do," continued the mate;"don't put more in, for he drinks like a fish."

  "I never said such a thing, cap'n," said Bradd, in an agitated whisper."I never thought o' such a thing."

  "No, I know you wouldn't," said Zingall, who was staring hard at anearly empty whisky bottle on the table.

  "And don't leave your baccy pouch lying about, George," continued themate, in a thrilling whisper.

  The skipper gave a faint, mirthless little laugh, and looked at himuneasily.

  "If ever there was a sponger for baccy, George, it's him," said themate, in a confidential whisper.

  Captain Zingall, who was at that very moment filling his pipe from thepouch which the skipper had himself pushed towards him, laid itcarefully on the table again, and gazing steadily at his friend, tookout the tobacco already in his pipe and replaced it. In the silencewhich ensued the mate took up the whisky bottle, and pouring thecontents into a tumbler, added a little water, and drank it with relish.

  He leaned back on the locker and smacked his lips. There was a faintlaugh from one of the crew, and looking up smartly he seemed to be awarefor the first time of their presence. "What are you doin' down here?" heroared. "What do you want?"

  "Nothin', sir," said the cook. "Only we t
hought--"

  "Get out at once," vociferated the mate, rising.

  "Stay where you are," said the skipper, sharply.

  "George!" said the mate, in the squeaky voice in which he chose topersonate the skipper.

  "Bring him round, Zingall," said the skipper, irritably. "I've hadenough o' this. I'll let 'im know who's who."

  With a confident smile Zingall got up quietly from the locker, and fixedhis terrible gaze on the mate. The mate fell back and gazed at himopen-mouthed.

  "Who the devil are you staring at?" he demanded, rudely.

  Still holding him with his gaze, Zingall clapped his hands together, andstepping up to him blew strongly in his face. The mate, with a perfectscream of rage, picked him up by the middle, and dumping him heavily onthe floor, held him there and worried him.

  "Help!" cried Zingall, in a smothered voice; "take him off!"

  "Why don't you bring him round?" yelled the skipper, excitably. "What'sthe good of playing with him?"

  Zingall's reply, which was quite irrelevant, consisted almost entirelyof adjectives and improper nouns.

  "Blow in 'is face agin, sir," said the cook, bending down kindly.

  "Take him off!" yelled Zingall; "he's killing me!"

  The skipper flew to the assistance of his friend, but the mate, who wasof gigantic strength and stature, simply backed, and crushed him againsta bulkhead. Then, as if satisfied, he released the crestfallen Zingall,and stood looking at him.

  "Why--don't--you--bring--him--round?" panted the skipper.

  "He's out of my control," said Zingall, rising nimbly to his feet. "I'veheard of such cases before. I'm only new at the work, you know, but Idare say, in a couple of years' time--"

  The skipper howled at him, and the mate, suddenly alive again to theobnoxious presence of the crew, drove them up the companion ladder, andpursued them to the forecastle.

  "This is a pretty kettle o' fish," said Bradd, indignantly. "Why don'tyou bring him round?"

  "Because I can't," said Zingall, shortly. "It'll have to wear off."

  "Wear off!" repeated the skipper.

  "He's under a delusion now," said Zingall, "an' o' course I can't sayhow long it'll last, but whatever you do don't cross him in any way."

  "Oh, don't cross him," repeated Bradd, with sarcastic inflection, "andyou call yourself a mesmerist."

  Zingall drew himself up with a little pride. "Well, see what I've done,"he said. "The fact is, I was charged full with electricity when I cameaboard, and he's got it all now. It's left me weak, and until my willwears off him he's captain o' this ship."

  "And what about me?" said Bradd.

  "You're the mate," said Zingall, "and mind, for your own sake, you actup to it. If you don't cross him I haven't any doubt it'll be all right,but if you do he'll very likely murder you in a fit of frenzy, and--hewouldn't be responsible. Goodnight."

  "You're not going?" said Bradd, clutching him by the sleeve.

  "I am," said the other. "He seems to have took a violent dislike to me,and if I stay here it'll only make him worse."

  He ran lightly up on deck, and avoiding an ugly rush on the part of themate, who had been listening, sprang on to the ladder and hastilyclambered ashore.

  The skipper, worn and scared, looked up as the bogus skipper came below.

  "I'm going to bed, George," said the mate, staring at him. "I feel a bitheavy. Give me a call just afore high water."

  "Where are you goin' to sleep?" demanded the skipper.

  "Goin' to sleep?" said the mate, "why, in my state-room, to be sure."

  He took the empty bottle from the table, and opening the door of thestate-room, closed it in the face of its frenzied owner, and turned thekey in the lock. Then he leaned over the berth, and, cramming the pillowagainst his mouth, gave way to his feelings until he was nearlysuffocated.

  Any idea that the skipper might have had of the healing effects of sleepwere rudely dispelled when the mate came on deck next morning, and foundthat they had taken the schooner out without arousing him. His delusionseemed to be stronger than ever, and pushing the skipper from the wheelhe took it himself, and read him a short and sharp lecture on thevirtues of obedience.

  "I know you're a good sort, George Smith," he said, leniently, "nobodycould wish for a better, but while I'm master of this here ship it don'tbecome you to take things upon yourself in the way you do."

  "But you don't understand," said the skipper, trying to conquer histemper. "Now look me in the eye, George."

  "Who are you calling George?" said the mate sharply.

  "Well, look me in the eye, then," said the skipper, waiving the point.

  "I'll look at you in a way you won't like in a minute," said the mate,ferociously.

  "I want to explain the position of affairs to you," said the skipper."Do you remember Cap'n Zingall what was aboard last night?"

  "Little dirty-looking man what kept staring at me?" demanded the mate.

  "Well, I don't know about 'is being dirty," said the skipper, "butthat's the man. Do you know what he did to you, Geo--"

  "Eh!" said the mate, sharply.

  "He mesmerised you," said the skipper, hastily. "Now keep quite calm.You say you're Benjamin Bradd, master o' this vessel, don't you?"

  "I do," said the mate. "Let me hear anybody say as I ain't."

  "Yesterday," said the skipper, plucking up courage and speaking veryslowly and impressively, "you were George Smith, the mate, but myfriend, Captain Zingall, mesmerised you and made you think you were me."

  "I see what it is," said the mate severely. "You've been drinking;you've been up to my whisky."

  "Call the crew up and ask 'em then," said Bradd, desperately.

  "Call 'em up yourself, you lunatic," said the mate, loudly enough forthe men to hear. "If anybody dares to play the fool with me I won'tleave a whole bone in his body, that's all."

  In obedience to the summons of Captain Bradd the crew came up, and beingrequested by him to tell the mate that he was the mate, and that he wasat present labouring under a delusion, stood silently nudging each otherand eyeing him uneasily.

  "Well," said the latter at length, "why don't you speak and tell Georgehe's gone off his 'ead a bit?"

  "It ain't nothing to do with us, sir," said Bill, very respectfully.

  "But, damn it all, man," said the mate, taking a mighty grip of hiscollar, "you know I'm the cap'n, don't you?"

  "O' course I do, sir," said Bill.

  "There you are, George," said the mate, releasing him, and turning tothe frantic Bradd; "you hear that? Now, look here, you listen to me.Either you've been drinking, or else your 'ead's gone a little bit off.You go down and turn in, and if you don't give me any more of yournonsense I'll overlook it for this once."

  He ordered the crew forward again, and being desirous of leaving somepermanent mark of his command on the ship, had the galley fresh paintedin red and blue, and a lot of old stores, which he had vainly condemnedwhen mate, thrown overboard. The skipper stood by helplessly while itwas done, and then went below of his own accord and turned in, as beingthe only way to retain his sanity, or, at any rate, the clearness ofhead which he felt to be indispensable at this juncture.

  Time, instead of restoring the mate to his senses, only appeared toconfirm him in his folly, and the skipper, after another attempt toconvince him, let things drift, resolving to have him put underrestraint as soon as they got to port.

  They reached Tidescroft in the early afternoon, but before they enteredthe harbour the mate, as though he had had some subtle intuition thatthis would be his last command, called the crew to him and read them atouching little homily upon their behaviour when they should land. Hewarned them of public-houses and other dangers, and reminded themaffectingly of their duties as husbands and fathers. "Always go home toyour wife and children, my lads," he continued with some emotion, "as Igo home to mine."

  "Why, he ain't got none," whispered Bill, staring.

  "Don't be a fool, Bill," said the cook, "he
means the cap'n's. Don't yousee he's the cap'n now."

  It was as clear as noonday, and the agitation of the skipper--a perfectOthello in his way--was awful. He paced the deck incessantly, castingfretful glances ashore, and, as the schooner touched the side of thequay, sprang on to the bulwarks and jumped ashore. The mate watched himwith an ill-concealed grin, and then, having made the vessel snug, wentbelow to strengthen himself with a drop of the skipper's whisky for thecrowning scene of his play. He came on deck again, and, taking no heedof the whispers of the crew, went ashore.

  Meantime, Captain Bradd had reached his house, and was discussing thesituation with his astonished spouse. She pooh-poohed the idea of thepolice and the medical faculty as being likely to cause complicationswith the owners, and, despite the remonstrances of her husband, insistedupon facing the mate alone.

  "Now you go in the kitchen," she said, looking from the window. "Here hecomes. You see how I'll settle him."

  The skipper looked out of the window and saw the unhappy victim ofCaptain Zingall slowly approaching. His wife drew him away, and, despitehis remonstrances, pushed him into the next room and closed the door.

  She sat on the sofa calmly sewing, as the mate, whose hardihood wasrapidly failing him, entered. Her manner gave him no assistancewhatever, and coming sheepishly in he took a chair.

  "I've come home," he said at last

  "So I see, Ben," said Mrs. Bradd, calmly.

  "He's told her," said the mate to himself.

  "Children all right?" he inquired, after another pause.

  "Yes," said Mrs. Bradd, simply. "Little Joe's boots are almost off hisfeet, though."

  "Ah," said the mate, blankly.

  "I've been waiting for you to come, Ben," said Mrs. Bradd after a pause."I want you to change a five-pound note Uncle Dick gave me."

  "Can't do it," said the mate, briefly. The absence of Captain Bradd wasdisquieting to a bashful man in such a position, and he had lookedforward to a stormy scene which was to bring him to his senses again.

  "Show me what you've got," said Mrs. Bradd, leaning forward.

  The mate pulled out an old leather purse and counted the contents, twopounds and a little silver.

  "There isn't five pounds there," said Mrs. Bradd, "but I may as welltake last week's housekeeping while you've got it out."

  Before the mate could prevent her she had taken the two pounds and putit in her pocket. He looked at her placid face in amazement, but she methis gaze calmly and drummed on the table with her thimble.

  "No, no, I want the money myself," said the mate at last. He put hishands to his head and began to prepare for the grand transformationscene. "My head's gone," he said, in a gurgling voice. "What am I doinghere? Where am I?"

  "Good gracious, what's the matter with the man?" said Mrs. Bradd, with ascream. She snatched up a bowl of flowers and flung the contents in hisface as her husband burst into the room. The mate sprang to his feet,spluttering.

  "What am I doing here, Cap'n Bradd?" he said in his usual voice.

  "He's come round!" said Bradd, ecstatically. "He's come round. Oh,George, you have been playing the fool. Don't you know what you've beendoing?"

  The mate shook his head, and stared round the room. "I thought we werein London," he said, putting his hand to his head. "You said Cap'nZingall was coming aboard. How did we get here? Where am I?"

  In a hurried, breathless fashion the skipper told him, the materegarding him the while with a stare of fixed incredulity.

  "I can't understand it," he said at length. "My mind's a perfect blank."

  "A perfect blank," said Mrs. Bradd, cheerfully. It might have beenaccident, but she tapped her pocket as she spoke, and the outwitted matebit his lip as he realised his blunder, and turned to the door. Thecouple watched him as he slowly passed up the street.

  "It's most extraordinary," said the skipper; "the most extraordinarycase I ever heard of."

  "So it is," said his wife, "and what's more extraordinary still for you,Ben, you're going to church on Sunday, and what's more extraordinaryeven than that, you are going to put two golden sovereigns in theplate."

  TWIN SPIRITS