The downfall of Captain Nugent was for some time a welcome subject of
conversation in marine circles at Sunwich. At The Goblets, a rambling
old inn with paved courtyard and wooden galleries, which almost backed on
to the churchyard, brother-captains attributed it to an error of
judgment; at the Two Schooners on the quay the profanest of sailormen
readily attributed it to an all-seeing Providence with a dislike of
over-bearing ship-masters.
[Illustration: "A welcome subject of conversation in marine circles."]
The captain's cup was filled to the brim by the promotion of his first
officer to the command of the _Conqueror_. It was by far the largest
craft which sailed from the port of Sunwich, and its master held a
corresponding dignity amongst the captains of lesser vessels. Their
allegiance was now transferred to Captain Hardy, and the master of a brig
which was in the last stages of senile decay, meeting Nugent in The
Goblets, actually showed him by means of two lucifer matches how the
collision might have been avoided.
A touching feature in the business, and a source of much gratification to
Mr. Wilks by the sentimental applause evoked by it, was his renunciation
of the post of steward on the ss. _Conqueror_. Sunwich buzzed with the
tidings that after eighteen years' service with Captain Nugent he
preferred starvation ashore to serving under another master. Although
comfortable in pocket and known to be living with his mother, who kept a
small general shop, he was regarded as a man on the brink of starvation.
Pints were thrust upon him, and the tale of his nobility increased with
much narration. It was considered that the whole race of stewards had
acquired fresh lustre from his action.
His only unfavourable critic was the erring captain himself. He sent
a peremptory summons to Mr. Wilks to attend at Equator Lodge, and the
moment he set eyes upon that piece of probity embarked upon such a
vilification of his personal defects and character as Mr. Wilks had never
even dreamt of. He wound up by ordering him to rejoin the ship
forthwith.
"Arsking your pardon, sir," said Mr. Wilks, with tender reproach, "but I
couldn't."
"Are you going to live on your mother, you hulking rascal?" quoth the
incensed captain.
"No, sir," said Mr. Wilks. "I've got a little money, sir; enough for my
few wants till we sail again."
"When I sail again you won't come with me," said the captain, grimly.
"I suppose you want an excuse for a soak ashore for six months!"
Mr. Wilks twiddled his cap in his hands and smiled weakly.
"I thought p'r'aps as you'd like me to come round and wait at table, and
help with the knives and boots and such-like," he said, softly. "Ann is
agreeable."
"Get out of the house," said the captain in quiet, measured tones.
Mr. Wilks went, but on his way to the gate he picked up three pieces of
paper which had blown into the garden, weeded two pieces of grass from
the path, and carefully removed a dead branch from a laurel facing the
window. He would have done more but for an imperative knocking on the
glass, and he left the premises sadly, putting his collection of rubbish
over the next garden fence as he passed it.
But the next day the captain's boots bore such a polish that he was able
to view his own startled face in them, and at dinner-time the brightness
of the knives was so conspicuous that Mrs. Kingdom called Ann in for the
purpose of asking her why she didn't always do them like that. Her
brother ate his meal in silence, and going to his room afterwards
discovered every pair of boots he possessed, headed by the tall
sea-boots, standing in a nicely graduated line by the wall, and all
shining their hardest.
For two days did Mr. Wilks do good by stealth, leaving Ann to blush to
find it fame; but on the third day at dinner, as the captain took up his
knife and fork to carve, he became aware of a shadow standing behind his
chair. A shadow in a blue coat with metal buttons, which, whipping up
the first plate carved, carried it to Mrs. Kingdom, and then leaned
against her with the vegetable dishes.
The dishes clattered a little on his arm as he helped the captain, but
the latter, after an impressive pause and a vain attempt to catch the eye
of Mr. Wilks, which was intent upon things afar off, took up the spoon
and helped himself. From the unwonted silence of Miss Nugent in the
presence of anything unusual it was clear to him that the whole thing had
been carefully arranged. He ate in silence, and a resolution to kick Mr.
Wilks off the premises vanished before the comfort, to say nothing of the
dignity, afforded by his presence. Mr. Wilks, somewhat reassured,
favoured Miss Nugent with a wink to which, although she had devoted much
time in trying to acquire the art, she endeavoured in vain to respond.
It was on the day following this that Jack Nugent, at his sister's
instigation, made an attempt to avenge the family honour. Miss Nugent,
although she treated him with scant courtesy herself, had a touching
faith in his prowess, a faith partly due to her brother occasionally
showing her his bicep muscles in moments of exaltation.
"There's that horrid Jem Hardy," she said, suddenly, as they walked along
the road.
"So it is," said Master Nugent, but without any display of enthusiasm.
"Halloa, Jack," shouted Master Hardy across the road.
"The suspense became painful."
"Halloa," responded the other.
"He's going to fight you," shrilled Miss Nugent, who thought these
amenities ill-timed; "he said so."
Master Hardy crossed the road. "What for?" he demanded, with surprise.
"Because you're a nasty, horrid boy," replied Miss Nugent, drawing
herself up.
"Oh," said Master Hardy, blankly.
The two gentlemen stood regarding each other with uneasy grins; the lady
stood by in breathless expectation. The suspense became painful.
[Illustration: "The suspense became painful."]
"Who are you staring at?" demanded Master Nugent, at last.
"You," replied the other; "who are you staring at?"
"You," said Master Nugent, defiantly.
There was a long interval, both gentlemen experiencing some difficulty in
working up sufficient heat for the engagement.
"You hit me and see what you'll get," said Master Hardy, at length.
"You hit me," said the other.
"Cowardy, cowardy custard," chanted the well-bred Miss Nugent, "ate his
mother's mustard. Cowardy, cowardy cus--"
"Why don't you send that kid home?" demanded Master Hardy, eyeing the
fair songstress with strong disfavour.
"You leave my sister alone," said the other, giving him a light tap on
the shoulder. "There's your coward's blow."
Master Hardy made a ceremonious return. "There's yours," he said.
"Let's go behind the church."
His foe assented, and they proceeded in grave silence to a piece of grass
screened by trees, which stood between the church and the beach. Here
they removed their coats and rolled up their shirt-sleeves. Things look
different out of doors, and to Miss Nugent the arms of both gentlemen
seemed somewhat stick-like in their proportions.
The preliminaries were awful, both combatants prancing round each other
with their faces just peering above their bent right arms, while their
trusty lefts dealt vicious blows at the air. Miss Nugent turned pale and
caught her breath at each blow, then she suddenly reddened with wrath as
James Philip Hardy, having paid his tribute to science, began to hammer
John Augustus Nugent about the face in a most painful and workmanlike
fashion.
She hid her face for a moment, and when she looked again Jack was on the
ground, and Master Hardy just rising from his prostrate body. Then Jack
rose slowly and, crossing over to her, borrowed her handkerchief and
applied it with great tenderness to his nose.
"Does it hurt, Jack?" she inquired, anxiously. "No," growled her
brother.
He threw down the handkerchief and turned to his opponent again; Miss
Nugent, who was careful about her property, stooped to recover it, and
immediately found herself involved in a twisting tangle of legs, from
which she escaped by a miracle to see Master Hardy cuddling her brother
round the neck with one hand and punching him as hard and as fast as he
could with the other. The unfairness of it maddened her, and the next
moment Master Hardy's head was drawn forcibly backwards by the hair. The
pain was so excruciating that he released his victim at once, and Miss
Nugent, emitting a series of terrified yelps, dashed off in the direction
of home, her hair bobbing up and down on her shoulders, and her small
black legs in an ecstasy of motion.
Master Hardy, with no very well-defined ideas of what he was going to do
if he caught her, started in pursuit. His scalp was still smarting and
his eyes watering with the pain as he pounded behind her. Panting wildly
she heard him coming closer and closer, and she was just about to give up
when, to her joy, she saw her father coming towards them.
Master Hardy, intent on his quarry, saw him just in time, and, swerving
into the road, passed in safety as Miss Nugent flung herself with some
violence at her father's waistcoat and, clinging to him convulsively,
fought for breath. It was some time before she could furnish the
astonished captain with full details, and she was pleased to find that
his indignation led him to ignore the hair-grabbing episode, on which,
to do her justice, she touched but lightly.
That evening, for the first time in his life, Captain Nugent, after some
deliberation, called upon his late mate. The old servant who, since Mrs.
Hardy's death the year before, had looked after the house, was out, and
Hardy, unaware of the honour intended him, was scandalized by the manner
in which his son received the visitor. The door opened, there was an
involuntary grunt from Master Hardy, and the next moment he sped along
the narrow passage and darted upstairs. His father, after waiting in
vain for his return, went to the door himself.
"Good evening, cap'n," he said, in surprise.
Nugent responded gruffly, and followed him into the sitting-room. To an
invitation to sit, he responded more gruffly still that he preferred to
stand. He then demanded instant and sufficient punishment of Master
Hardy for frightening his daughter.
Even as he spoke he noticed with strong disfavour the change which had
taken place in his late first officer. The change which takes place when
a man is promoted from that rank to that of master is subtle, but
unmistakable--sometimes, as in the present instance, more unmistakable
than subtle. Captain Hardy coiled his long, sinewy form in an arm-chair
and, eyeing him calmly, lit his pipe before replying.
[Illustration: "Captain Hardy lit his pipe before replying."]
"Boys will fight," he said, briefly.
"I'm speaking of his running after my daughter," said Nugent, sternly.
Hardy's eyes twinkled. "Young dog," he said, genially; "at his age,
too."
Captain Nugent's face was suffused with wrath at the pleasantry, and he
regarded him with a fixed stare. On board the _Conqueror_ there was a
witchery in that glance more potent than the spoken word, but in his own
parlour the new captain met it calmly.
"I didn't come here to listen to your foolery," said Nugent; "I came to
tell you to punish that boy of yours."
"And I sha'n't do it," replied the other. "I have got something better
to do than interfere in children's quarrels. I haven't got your spare
time, you know."
Captain Nugent turned purple. Such language from his late first officer
was a revelation to him.
"I also came to warn you," he said, furiously, "that I shall take the law
into my own hands if you refuse."
"Aye, aye," said Hardy, with careless contempt; "I'll tell him to keep
out of your way. But I should advise you to wait until I have sailed."
Captain Nugent, who was moving towards the door, swung round and
confronted him savagely.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"What I say," retorted Captain Hardy. "I don't want to indulge Sunwich
with the spectacle of two middle-aged ship-masters at fisticuffs, but
that's what'll happen if you touch my boy. It would probably please the
spectators more than it would us."
"I'll cane him the first time I lay hands on him," roared Captain Nugent.
Captain Hardy's stock of patience was at an end, and there was, moreover,
a long and undischarged account between himself and his late skipper. He
rose and crossed to the door.
"Jem," he cried, "come downstairs and show Captain Nugent out."
There was a breathless pause. Captain Nugent ground his teeth with fury
as he saw the challenge, and realized the ridiculous position into which
his temper had led him; and the other, who was also careful of
appearances, repented the order the moment he had given it. Matters had
now, however, passed out of their hands, and both men cast appraising
glances at each other's form. The only one who kept his head was Master
Hardy, and it was a source of considerable relief to both of them when,
from the top of the stairs, the voice of that youthful Solomon was heard
declining in the most positive terms to do anything of the kind.
Captain Hardy repeated his command. The only reply was the violent
closing of a door at the top of the house, and after waiting a short time
he led the way to the front door himself.
"You will regret your insolence before I have done with you," said his
visitor, as he paused on the step. "It's the old story of a beggar on
horseback."
"It's a good story," said Captain Hardy, "but to my mind it doesn't come
up to the one about Humpty-Dumpty. Good-night."