If any one cares to look up the _Patriarch_ in Lloyd's List, it will
be discovered that the line given to her reads thus:--
[Illustration: _Patriarch's_ ship record]
And all these hieroglyphics mean something to the initiated, of whom,
as a matter of fact, there are more ashore than at sea. But the main
point is that the owner of her was T. Tyser, and it matters very
little whether she was built of heavier plating than the rules
required, or whether she was cemented, or built under special survey,
or what not. For T. Tyser, otherwise Mr. Thomas Tyser, was not only
the owner of the _Patriarch_, but also the owner of a dozen other
vessels all beginning with a P. He was, moreover, the owner of a
large block of land in the heart of Melbourne; he had several
streets, of which the biggest was Tyser Street, S.E., in London, and
his banking account was certainly of heavier metal than he had any
personal use for. He was a rough dog from the north country, and in
the course of half a century's fight in London he came out top-dog in
his own line, and was more or less of a millionaire.
'And he's my uncle,' said Geordie Potts; 'his sister was my mother,
and here I am before the stick in one of his old wind-jammers, and
gettin' two-pun-ten in this here _Patriarch_ of his, and hang me if I
believe the old bloke has another relative in the world. It's hard
lines, mates, it's hard lines. Don't you allow it's hard lines?'
It was Sunday morning in the South-East Trades, and every sail was
drawing, 'like a bally droring-master,' as Geordie once said, and the
'crowds' of the _Patriarch_ were all fairly easy in their minds and
ready for a discussion.
'_If_ so be you are 'is nevvy, as you state,' said the port watch
cautiously, 'we allows it's 'ard lines.'
'I've stated it frequent,' said Geordie, 'and it's the truth, the
whole truth, and nothin' but it, so help me. D'ye think I'd claim to
be old Tyser's sister's son if I wasn't? I'd scorn to claim it.'
'Any man would scorn to be Tyser's sister's son,' said the starboard
watch; 'he'd scorn to be 'im unless 'e was, for Tyser's a mean old
dog, ain't 'e, Geordie?'
Geordie thanked his watch-mates for backing him up so. 'That's
right, chaps. There 's no meaner in the north of England, or the
south for that matter, and the way this ship's found is scandalous.'
'The grub's horrid,' said both watches.
'And look at the gear,' said Geordie; 'everything ready to part a
deal easier than my uncle is. I never lays hold of a halliard but
I'm thinking I'll go on my back if I pulls heavy. Oh, he's a fair
scandal!'
He considered the scandal soberly, and with some sadness.
'He might leave you some dibs, Geordie,' suggested his mate, Jack
Braby; 'he might, after all.'
'Not a solitary dime,' said Geordie; 'him and me quarrelled because
my father fought him in the street, and I hit the old hunks with a
bit of a brick because he got my dad down.'
'Wot was the row about?' asked the others eagerly.
'Nothin' to speak of,' said George; 'my old man said he was a
blood-sucker, and that led to words. And I never hurt him to speak
of. And yet I've shipped in one of his ships, and am as poor as he's
rich. He allowed none of us would get a farthing: he shouted it out
in the market-place, and said hospitals would get it, because, when
one of his skippers that he'd sacked cut him up awful with a
stay-sail hank, they sewed him up very neat at one of 'em.'
'There's nothin' so good in a fight as a stay-sail 'ank,' said Jack
Braby, contemplatively. 'I cut a polisman all to rags wiv one once.'
'Was that the time you done three months' 'ard?' asked the port watch.
'Six,' said Braby proudly, 'and I told the beak I could do it on my
'ead. But, Geordie, if you was owner yourself what would you do?'
'Yes, wot?' asked the rest.
Geordie shook his head and sighed.
'I'd make my ships such that sailormen would be wanting to pay to go
in 'em,' said Geordie. 'I've laid awake thinkin' of it.'
'Oh, tell us,' said all hands, with as much unanimity as if they were
tailing on to the halliards under the stimulus of 'Give us some time
to blow the man down!' 'Tell us, Geordie.'
'I'd be friends with all my men for one thing,' said Geordie, 'and
I'd not have a single Dutchman in a ship of mine.'
The three 'Dutchmen' on board--one of whom was a Swede, another a
German, and the third a Finn--shifted uneasily on their chests, but
said nothing.
'And not a Dago,' continued the 'owner,' 'and I'd give double wages,
and grog three times a day, and tobacco throwed in. And the cook
shouldn't be a hash-spoiler but what Frenchies calls a chef.'
'We never heard of that. How d'ye spell it, Geordie?'
'S, h, e, double f,' said Geordie; 'and it means a man that is known
not to spoil vittles, as most sea-cooks does, by the very look of
him. And when it was wet or cold the galley fire should be alight
all night. And the skipper and the mates should be told by me, and
told very stern, that if they vallied their billets a continental
they'd behave like gents and not cuss too much. And there shouldn't
be no working up, and any officer of mine that was dead on dry pulls
on the halliards should have the sack quick. And every time a ship
of mine came into dock I'd be there, and I'd see what the crowds'
opinion was of the skipper and the mates. Oh, I'd make my ships a
paradise, I would!'
Most of the men nodded approval, but Braby wasn't quite satisfied.
'And would there be grog every time of shortenin' sail, Geordie?'
'Oh, of course,' said George, 'and every time you made sail too.'
But an old seaman shook his head.
''Tis mighty fine, mates, to 'ear Geordie guff as to what 'e'd do,'
he growled, 'but I ain't young, and I've seed men get rich and they
wasn't in the least what they allowed they'd be. Geordie 'ere is one
of hus now, and 'e feels where the shoe pinches, but if so be 'e got
rotten with money 'e'd be for callin' sailormen swine as like as not.
And 'e'd wear a topper.'
'You're a liar, I wouldn't,' roared Geordie.
'Maybe I am a liar,' said the old chap, 'but I've seen what I've
looked at. If you was to learn as your huncle was dead now, you'd go
aft and set about on the poop and see hus doin' pulley-hauley, with a
seegar in your teeth. Riches spoils a man, and it can't be helped:
it 'as to, somehow. I've no fault to find with you now, Geordie
Potts; for so young a man you're a good seaman and a good shipmate
(though you 'ave called me a liar), but, you take my word for it,
money would make an 'og of you.'
And here was matter for high debate, which lasted all through the
Trades, through the Horse Latitudes, and into the region of the brave
west winds, till the _Patriarch_ had made more than half her easting.
'So I'm to be a mean swab, and a real swine, when I'm rich,' said
Geordie. 'Eh, well, have it your own way. There's times some of you
makes me feel I'd like to make you sit up.'
''Ear, 'ear,' said the old fo'c'sleman, 'there's the very thought of
'aughty richness workin' in 'is mind, shipmates. What'll the real
thing do if 'is huncle pegs out sudden?'
It was curious to note that a certain subdued hostility rose up
between most of the men and Geordie. They sat apart and discussed
him. Even Jack Braby threw out dark and melancholy hints that they
wouldn't be chums any more if old Tyser's money came to his nephew.
There were at times faint suggestions that Geordie was getting
touched with his possible prosperity.
'I'll live ashore and have a public-house,' said Geordie Potts.
And they picked up Cape Otway light in due time, and ran through Port
Phillip Heads by and by, and came to an anchor off Sandridge.
Presently they berthed alongside the pier, and began to discharge
their cargo; and one hot day went by like another till they were
empty and began to fill up again with wool. In six weeks they were
almost ready for sea once more. And the very night before they
hauled out from their berth and lay at anchor in the bay, Geordie
went ashore at six o'clock 'all by his lonesome,' as he and Jack
Braby had fought over the job which Braby was to get from his mate
when old Tyser died intestate. And as he got to the end of the pier
he met a young clerk from the agents' office who knew him by sight.
'I say, I'm in a great hurry,' said the boy, 'my girl's waiting for
me. Will you take these letters to Captain Smith, or I'll miss my
train back? I'll give you a bob.'
'Right oh!' said Geordie, and he pouched the shilling and the
letters, and the young fellow ran for his train.
'The letters can wait,' said Geordie Potts, 'but the bob can't, and
I've five more besides. Jack might have had his whack out of it if
he hadn't wanted to be my manager, when he ain't fit for it.'
He put the letters into his pocket and made his way to the Sandridge
Arms, where he sat and drank by himself. It was seven o'clock, and
he was by then tolerably 'full,' before it occurred to him to see if
he still had the letters. He took them out, and the very first his
eyes lighted on was one in a long envelope addressed to
George Potts, Esq.,
c/o Captain Smith,
_Patriarch_.
'Blimy,' said Geordie, 'this can't be me! Esq. is what they puts
after names of gents. Even the skipper don't have it after his.'
He fingered the long envelope and took another drink to consider the
matter on.
'Holy Sailor, it must be me!' he said as he drew confidence out of
his glass, 'there's no other Potts but me.'
He was over-full by now, and he opened the letter and began to read
it.
'My dear Sir----'
'By the holy frost,' said Geordie, 'me My dear Sir!'
He went on reading.
'MY DEAR SIR,--We regret to inform you of the sudden death of your
uncle, Mr. Thomas Tyser, on the 10th inst. He left no will, and you,
as the next of kin and the heir-at-law, are entitled to all his real
and personal estate, which is, as you are doubtless aware, very
large. According to our present estimate it will amount to at least
half a million sterling, and as we have been his legal advisers for
the last twenty years, and know all his affairs, we can assure you
that, with proper management of certain undertakings at present in
our hands, it may be much more than our estimate. In order that you
may return at once, we enclose you a draft on the Union Bank of
Australia for £200, and have instructed Captain Smith to give you
your discharge, which he will of course do at once.
'We hope, as we have been so long in the confidence of Mr. Tyser,
that you will see no reason to complain of our care for your
interests.--We are, my dear Sir, your obedient servants,