I
"Stand by."
Shackles had come down from the bridge of the _Adolphus_ and flung
this command at three fellow-correspondents who in the galley were
busy with pencils trying to write something exciting and interesting
from four days quiet cruising. They looked up casually. "What for?"
They did not intend to arouse for nothing. Ever since Shackles had
heard the men of the navy directing each other to stand by for this
thing and that thing, he had used the two words as his pet phrase and
was continually telling his friends to stand by. Sometimes its
portentous and emphatic reiteration became highly exasperating and men
were apt to retort sharply. "Well, I _am_ standing by, ain't I?" On
this occasion they detected that he was serious. "Well, what for?"
they repeated. In his answer Shackles was reproachful as well as
impressive. "Stand by? Stand by for a Spanish gunboat. A Spanish
gunboat in chase! Stand by for _two_ Spanish gunboats--_both_ of them
in chase!"
The others looked at him for a brief space and were almost certain that
they saw truth written upon his countenance. Whereupon they tumbled out
of the galley and galloped up to the bridge. The cook with a mere
inkling of tragedy was now out on deck bawling, "What's the matter?
What's the matter? What's the matter?" Aft, the grimy head of a stoker
was thrust suddenly up through the deck, so to speak. The eyes flashed
in a quick look astern and then the head vanished. The correspondents
were scrambling on the bridge. "Where's my glasses, damn it? Here--let
me take a look. Are they Spaniards, Captain? Are you sure?"
The skipper of the _Adolphus_ was at the wheel. The pilot-house was so
arranged that he could not see astern without hanging forth from one
of the side windows, but apparently he had made early investigation.
He did not reply at once. At sea, he never replied at once to
questions. At the very first, Shackles had discovered the merits of
this deliberate manner and had taken delight in it. He invariably
detailed his talk with the captain to the other correspondents. "Look
here. I've just been to see the skipper. I said 'I would like to put
into Cape Haytien.' Then he took a little think. Finally he said: 'All
right.' Then I said: 'I suppose we'll need to take on more coal
there?' He took another little think. I said: 'Ever ran into that port
before?' He took another little think. Finally he said: 'Yes.' I said
'Have a cigar?' He took another little think. See? There's where I
fooled 'im----"
While the correspondents spun the hurried questions at him, the
captain of the _Adolphus_ stood with his brown hands on the wheel and
his cold glance aligned straight over the bow of his ship.
"Are they Spanish gunboats, Captain? Are they, Captain?"
After a profound pause, he said: "Yes." The four correspondents hastily
and in perfect time presented their backs to him and fastened their
gaze on the pursuing foe. They saw a dull grey curve of sea going to
the feet of the high green and blue coast-line of north-eastern Cuba,
and on this sea were two miniature ships with clouds of iron-coloured
smoke pouring from their funnels.
One of the correspondents strolled elaborately to the pilot-house.
"Aw--Captain," he drawled, "do you think they can catch us?"
The captain's glance was still aligned over the bow of his ship.
Ultimately he answered: "I don't know."
From the top of the little _Adolphus'_ stack, thick dark smoke swept
level for a few yards and then went rolling to leaward in great hot
obscuring clouds. From time to time the grimy head was thrust through
the deck, the eyes took the quick look astern and then the head
vanished. The cook was trying to get somebody to listen to him. "Well,
you know, damn it all, it won't be no fun to be ketched by them
Spaniards. Be-Gawd, it won't. Look here, what do you think they'll do
to us, hey? Say, I don't like this, you know. I'm damned if I do." The
sea, cut by the hurried bow of the _Adolphus_, flung its waters astern
in the formation of a wide angle and the lines of the angle ruffled
and hissed as they fled, while the thumping screw tormented the water
at the stern. The frame of the steamer underwent regular convulsions
as in the strenuous sobbing of a child.
The mate was standing near the pilot-house. Without looking at him, the
captain spoke his name. "Ed!"
"Yes, sir," cried the mate with alacrity.
The captain reflected for a moment. Then he said: "Are they gainin' on
us?"
The mate took another anxious survey of the race. "No--o--yes, I think
they are--a little."