The record-union., 1895-08-03
CHAPTER IL


CHAPTER II.
Four months later the Chrysolite was
unloading q general cargo in Mauritlus
harbor. Captain Anderson had thought
it over.
The quay was quickly covered with
Manchester bales and Birmingham cases,
and II was not long before the tackle at
| the malnyard arm was set a-clicki ing, as
the baskets of sand ballast were hove up
to be poured into the empty hold. No
such Injuries were there as steam
WInches, nor any of those modern appli-
ances for tightening labor. Instead. five
or six hands piled the ponderous work
at the winch handles, the labor being
substantially aggravated by the heat Of q
vertical sun. A spell of the orthodox
hand winch in the tropics is an ordeal not
to be lightly spoken OF, and sailors have
the very strongest objection to the work.
IT required the utmost vigilance on the
part of the Captain, therefore, TO prevent
the teebler spirits from deserving. He
was able, however. TO reckon full crew
as he steered out of Point Louis harbor
and shaped his course for Ceylon.
Some of the hands had grum bled at not
having more liberty to go ashore. In
an excess OF passion Captain Anderson
made answer:
ITO your kennels. you dogs! Pll put
you ashore soon enough, and PHI war
rant you'll stay there longer than you
care forI"
1t was indiscreet language, and the men
puzzled over II. They concluded that the
skipper meant to obtain their imprison-
ment at the next British port they should
touch tor mutinouS conduct. and know
ing he was q man OF his word they as
sumed their best behavior
Captain Anderson had not changed for
the better. Hitherto he had maintained
trmness of discipline bordering upon
severity, and he certainly had never re-
| laxed from that attitude. Now he had
become an incOmprehensible mixture of
Indulgence and cruelty. The two ele-
Inents were incompatible, and the more
Intelligent Of his officers were not long
in percelving that there was vicious and
variable wind in their superior's moral at
mosphere, under which his canvas
strained or Tapped unaccountably. They
imagined, TO pursue their own figure,
| that his hand did not grasp the reason
! tiIlor with It's customary grasp, and that
| his bark was left more or less to the con-
| hicting guidance of other influences
! Many a time since his departure from
| England had the old sailor been stung
with remor5e at tho unWritten tenor OF
| his present commission. He would fire.
! quently try TO look the whole thing in
! the face-WouId endeavOr to account for
! the acceptance OF an office against which
! his whole self revOlted. He would re-
| cite the Interview in The Billiter Street
/ Chambers with his employer, passing
rapidly over the preliminary parts until
| he came TO the reward. No, he was not
! false enough or euphemistic enough to
call it reward; he would regard it as a
! bride But he could never get further.
! lie always grounded on this reef of gold,
and no tide OF Indignation or regret, no
generous current OF honor had power to
sweep him OFT again into the saving wa
/ ters. Here the fierce rays of desire shot
down upon the respondent heap, whose
reelected glory filled the whole vision of
! the watcher with its luster. Blame him
not too much, nor it. For after all man
! is but man, and gold is a thing of COM
/ fort.
| But had Captain Anderson followed
! his mental inc uirles to a conclusion. had
| he demonstrated to himself the depths of
moral degradation into which he must be
plunged, his pride would never have al
! lowed him TO do anything but redeem his
unuttered word.
AS an illustration of the Captains
| lately acquired habit of indulgence, the
| most remarkable was his treatment OF
the watch on deck during the night The
man on the lookout, for instance, was in
the habit of going TO sleep ii the weather
made 1t at all practicable. The rest of the
watch, some fifteen or twenty hands. fol-
| lowed suit, or skulked back into the
TO- castle. there TO stretch themselves on
their chests and smoke. These things
the Captain oonniYed at, and the men
were only too glad OF the relief to inquire
too curiously into his reasons. The
main object Of sailing-ship sailor is to
gain as much sleep as he can by what
ever means. and in pursuit of this end
he will eyade even those duties which
are the most essential to the safety of the
ship.
One night. during the middle watch,
! the Captain came on deck and took to
walking up and down with the second
mate. The night was clear. though dark.
| The Chrysolite was cIose-hauled on the
stsrboard tack and was making good
headway under a clinking breeze. She
was an old-fashioned. frigate- built, full
rugged ship, such as one seldom happens
on now, her undergraduates, chain
/ plates, to'-gallant bulwarks, and single
topsail yards being all out of date among
the ship builders OF to-day. It has been
said that she had rare lines" and the
remark was just. 4 more imposing pile
of timber was possibly never fioated.
| She had plenty of beam TO cope with the
South Atlantic wave giants, and not too
much sheer. Her fiddle stem was grace
fully cut, aud harmonized TO perfection
with the slight rake aft of her lofty masts.
Her spars, also, were finely proportional
1 to the breadth OF her hull. So that, with
her canvas spread in an unwavering
breeze, the Chrysolite was stately Great
ure and "a thing OF beauty"
"Mr. Grant," said the Captain, address.
ing his subordinate officer. "be good