It was a pity that Derrick Dene was not a descriptive writer, instead of
a struggling engineer, for had he been, he might have got some copy of
quite a purple hue out of the "tramp" and its temporary denizens. We
often hear of a literary production which is without a dull page, but it
may be said with truth that Dene's life on board the _Angelica_ was
without a dull moment. And without an idle one; for he had accepted the
position of general utility, and the man-of-all-work is expected to do
everybody else's as well as his own. So it happened that while Sidcup,
for instance, who was the principal acrobat and trapeze man, lolled
through his day with a pipe in his mouth, and only lending an occasional
hand, when necessity compelled him, Dene was in request everywhere.
Fortunately he was as strong as a modern Hercules, quick and alert in
his movements, and, now that he was free from the terror which had
overthrown him at Brown's Buildings, was of his wonted cheerfulness.
Fortunately, also, he was a good sailor, and did not go under with the
sea-sickness which soon prostrated nearly all the other members of the
company. For they ran into bad weather, and once or twice, when the
storm was at its worst, scenes occurred which would need the pen of a
Joseph Conrad or a Morley Roberts to describe adequately; I will not
attempt to do so.
The rickety old tub, straining in every plate, rolled and pitched and
tossed all ways at once, like an hysterical cat, and the discomfort in
which they had started rose, or rather sank, to absolute misery. Like
most strong men, Derrick had the heart of a woman towards anyone in pain
or trouble. There was no doctor; the so-called stewards were quite
unable to cope with the well-nigh general suffering, and Derrick, in
some marvellous way, found time to bear a hand. There is no doubt that,
in any case, he would have been popular; but in the present
circumstances he stepped at once into the position of first friend with
the men, and became a hero and a little tin god in the regard of the
women; and as to the children--for there were three or four in the
company, young acrobats and riders--they watched for his coming, and
clung to him and adored him with their pathetic eyes, as if their
present and future safety and happiness were dependent on him. Often, in
the middle of the night, he would be awakened by the wail of a child,
and with eyes still half closed, and his mind only half awake, would
make his way to it, give it a drink, and sometimes fall asleep with the
poor little thing nestled up against him. To them he was no longer "Mr.
Green," but "Syd," or "Dear Syddie," and they fought for a word and
schemed for a smile from him.
Among the women were some who were quite young. Many of them were
pretty, and not a few of them, naturally enough, fell in love with the
good-looking young man who befriended them. Like the children, but with
a different kind of ardour, they waited for his coming, and laid
feminine snares for him. Two girls, to particularize, thought of little
else than Sydney Green as they lay in their bunks, recovering from that
horrible malady at which we all laugh, and all quail. One was a fair
girl, named Alice Merton. She was one of the riders, and was extremely
pretty, with blue eyes and a complexion like cream and roses. She was
very slight and dainty, and looked fragile; but she was a very good
equestrienne, and when on a horse displayed extraordinary nerve.
The other girl--her name was Isabel Devigne, a stage name, no doubt--was
tall, dark-eyed, with the regular features and blue-black hair of a
Spaniard. She also was a rider; she had been in the business--pardon!
profession--since she could walk, and her experiences of life were many
and peculiar. Perhaps because of their contrasting characteristics, she
and Alice Merton had been drawn towards each other, and were fast
friends. They occupied opposite bunks, walked and talked together, and
were both in love with Sydney Green, who ministered to both, in his
capacity of amateur ship doctor, with strict though unconscious
impartiality.
Derrick was not of the susceptible genus, and, if he had been, he was
too much driven by the incessant work to spare time for even the mildest
flirtation. Besides, whenever he found time for thought, his mind always
went back to a certain room in Brown's Buildings, far away in London, to
a girl's face looking down at him from over the balustrade. He thought
of her only; scarcely once had his mind wandered from her to Miriam, the
girl he had loved, the girl for whom he had sacrificed himself.
Sometimes, when he put his hand in his breast pocket, he could feel the
five-pound note; and whenever he did so, back came the scene, and his
heart grew warm.
The bad weather lasted for a week; then the storm abated, the sea grew
calmer, and one morning the invalids began to crawl up to the deck.
Derrick, busy with the horses, some of which had suffered terribly,
paused for a moment and looked at the wretched folk as they emerged from
the companion-way. One of them was Alice Merton, and he was moved to
such pity by the sight of her white face and evident weakness that he
put down his curry-comb and brush and went to help her. Her face was
flooded with colour as she raised her piteous blue eyes to him, and her
hand shook as he drew it through his arm.
"You'll be as right as a trivet--I don't know what a trivet is, by the
way--before very long," he assured her. "It's wonderful how you pull
round, especially in such air as this. Here, I'll rig up a little nest
against the warm side. That's what you want--warmth."
"You're very good to me," she faltered. "But you're good to everyone,
and we all know how busy you are."
"That's all right," he said, cheerfully. "Nothing like plenty of work."
While he was making the nest, the tall, supple figure of Isabel Devigne
came on deck; she too was weak, but she walked firmly and held her head
erect. At sight of Derrick and his employment she also coloured, a rich,
passionate red, and she drew a long breath, her white, even teeth
clenched tightly. Informed by the direction of Alice's eyes, Derrick
turned and saw the other girl.
"Plenty of room, Miss Devigne," he said, cheerfully. "You two snuggle up
together; keep each other warm. Halloa! here we are. Let 'em all come,"
he added, as a cry of welcome and joy rose from the children, who
appeared now and rushed at him as if for refuge and comfort.
The two girls watched him hungrily as he caught up the smallest of the
group, gave her a playful shake, and chucked her softly into the nest.
They shrilled their thanks and their love, and clamoured to him to
remain; but Derrick wiped them off gently, as one wipes off a bunch of
clinging bees, and promising to look them up as soon as he could,
returned to the horses, which needed him quite as badly as did these
humans.
"He's almost too good to be a man," murmured Alice, involuntarily, as
her gaze followed him wistfully.
Isabel's dark eyes flashed, and her full and sensuous lips curved
contemptuously.
"He's a man, every inch of him," she said. "He's the first man I've ever
met in this god-forsaken world. You--like him, because he's been playing
the nurse to all of us women; you're the sort that always wants some man
to be fussing about you. I'm different. I like to see him when he's
fighting it out with, and mastering, one of the horses, or holding his
own with one of the men-swine who give him trouble sometimes."
"You and I are different," sighed Alice.
"I should hope so," retorted Isabel, scornfully; but the next moment,
with a kind of rough tenderness, she drew the shawl closer round Alice's
shoulders. "Yes, we're different; perhaps that's why I like you. And I
do like you still, though sometimes, when you look up at him with the
eyes of a sick calf, and make excuse to touch him----"
"Oh, don't, Isabel!" murmured Alice, in a low voice. "He--he never
thinks of me."
"You idiot! He never thinks of any of us," breathed Isabel through her
teeth. "That's why he gets such a hold of one; we're just a parcel of
helpless, miserable wretches, who've got on his nerves and forced him to
help us. Do you suppose, if this beastly old tramp went down this
minute, that he'd shed a tear for any of us? Not he!" She paused a
moment; then she said, with a kind of snarl, "He's got his girl. He's
left her behind there, and his heart with her. Oh, don't cry! But, yes,
do; your sort of woman can always find relief in tears. I can't."
An hour later, when Derrick returned to the group with a big can of
soup, he found Alice asleep, with her head pillowed on the bosom of
Isabel.
"Don't wake her," said Derrick.
Instantly Isabel, with a flash of the eyes, pushed the other's girl's
head away from her.
"Here, wake up!" she said, roughly. "You want as much petting as a
baby."
Derrick dealt out the soup, waited for a minute or two to see the
children start on it, then went down below to feed the elephants. One of
the huge beasts was troublesome, and as Derrick came up the man who was
the cause of it gave the animal a jab on the trunk with a hay-fork.
Derrick had already warned the fellow, one of the men-swine of whom
Isabel had spoken; consequently Derrick wasted no further words, but
dropped the truss of hay and gave the man a blow which sent him
sprawling. He got up, seized the hay-fork, and with murder in his eyes
lunged at Derrick; but Derrick, too quick for him, struck up the fork,
snatched it from the man's grasp, and hit him on the head with it.
"Get out of my sight," said Derrick, without raising his voice. "Let me
see you, or let me hear you, ill-treating one of the animals again, and
I'll lay you up for the rest of the voyage. You may take that as a
promise, and I've a knack of keeping my promises."
The man swore vilely, but suddenly stopped and slunk away, wiping the
blood from his face, and Mr. Bloxford's voice, from behind Derrick,
demanded shrilly:
"Who appointed you general chucker-out of the establishment?"
"I've no direct appointment," said Derrick, coolly, patting the
elephant's soft trunk, which was wandering caressingly and gratefully
over his body. "But, unfortunately for me, I'm so made that I can't
stand by and see any animal ill-treated. It's a weakness of mine that
has caused me no end of trouble."
"I guess so," said Mr. Bloxford, dryly. "That waster Jackman, for
instance, won't forget that tap you've given him. He'll lay for you some
day, mark my words. I've wanted to go for him many times myself;
but"--he was going to say, "I'm not big enough," but he drew himself up
to the top of his few inches and expanded his chest--"I haven't the
time. Here! The business seems to come handy and easy to you. I'll
appoint you chucker-out; in other words, I'll make you deputy-manager,
Mr. Green. I've had my eye on you, and I'll tell you, in strict
confidence, that it's very little that escapes this eye of mine." He
twisted both glittering eyes till they looked like those of an acute
monkey. "You seem as if you could hold your own, and it wants holding
with this gang. Deputy-manager--two pounds a week. How will that suit
you?"
"It suits me very well, thank you, Mr. Bloxford," said Dene, and away
went his hand to the talisman in his pocket.
"Then fix it so," said Mr. Bloxford. "And mind and keep your eye on
Jackman," he added, as he trotted off.
Derrick's new and exalted position relieved him of a great deal of the
drudgery he had previously performed, but it kept him on the continual
spring, and burdened him with fresh responsibilities; for it was
necessary that he should be all over the ship at once, so to speak. All
the details of the daily life on board passed under his supervision; all
the multitudinous cares, disputes, arrangements, were referred to him;
and, strangely enough, though most of the men in the company must have
envied him, their envy was not accompanied by ill-feeling, for Derrick's
value was admitted by all of them.
One of the first things he did was to rearrange the women's and
children's quarters, and render them more comfortable, for which the
benefited ones blessed him and loved him all the more intensely. Then he
set to work to cleanse the ship, which during the spell of bad weather
had become almost unendurable. The crew, and some of the company,
grumbled at the increased work and Derrick's drastic regulations, but
they all enjoyed the results of his despotism.
Derrick had less time than before to spend in friendly interchanges with
those who had become attached to him, and the two girls, Isabel and
Alice, watched him wistfully as he moved rapidly within their sight, and
hungered for a word, a smile; and presently they taught the children,
when they were with them, to waylay him, and had to be content with the
scraps of kindness which fell from the children's table.
Fortunately for Derrick's _régime_, the weather continued fine, and
three weeks later the _Angelica_, much battered and straining still most
piteously in every plate, was steaming up the La Plata river to Buenos
Ayres.
The disembarkation shall not be described. Several times during it
Derrick wondered how Noah had managed the same business.