Part 16

“One day there was another scuffle below, and a bottle of liquor sailed up the companion-way and smashed against the binnacle. There were all kinds of noises after that, but I finally made out Moll’s voice bawling, ‘Not another drap, sir! Not another drap!’

“He was a sober man for two years until she left, and after Fane heard of her death he wasn’t the same man. She really did more good than many a better brought-up woman on the beach, and if he called her an angel it’s nothing to laugh at, though her wings may have looked more like the little winged animals that fly o’ night among the mosquitoes in the harbor than like doves.

“So you see there’s no use going against the wimmen, for there’s lots of good in them, only it takes strange circumstances at times to bring it out.

“After all, I don’t blame Gantline. And between us I’ll tell you why.”

Here Mr. Enlis looked sharply fore and aft to see if anybody might interrupt us, and then spoke in a low voice.

“He married a girl years ago, and one day he came home and found her missing. She had run off with a fellow named Jones, who was once mate with Crojack.

“He followed that fellow all over the world. That hole in his cheek is where Jones’s bullet went through when they met once on the streets in Calcutta. Jones got several bad cuts before they were separated. A year or two after this they met again, and Gantline has had that list in his walk ever since. You see, virtue and right don’t always come out winners on deep-water, unless the virtue lies in the heft of your hand. That mate Jones was a big man, and they used to say he was a powerful hand for putting a crew through a course of study to find out who’s who and what’s what. According to report they generally found Bill Jones was something of both, and I heard that one voyage there wasn’t enough belaying-pins left aboard to clew down the topsails on, so they left them flying and put over the side for it as soon as the hook took the ground.

“But what I am coming to is this: Gantline was second mate with that same fellow Hollender the voyage one of his men sent his black soul to hell. The mate was killed and Gantline was left in command.

“To the eastward of Juan Fernandez he picked up a boat adrift with one man in it. He was alive and that was all. Gantline stood by while they lifted the fellow on deck, and as he caught sight of his sun-blackened face with the dry lips cracking over the black gums he gave a start and swore horribly. Then he walked fore and aft on the poop, and they say he chewed up nigh two pounds of tobacco during the rest of the day. When the fellow’s mouth was wet enough to speak with, he raved and cried, ‘Saved at last! Saved at last!’ until they had to lash him in his bunk. Sometimes he would call out a girl’s name, and Gantline would rush forward onto the forecastle-head and storm at the men working on deck.

“It didn’t last long. The fellow was strong and began to recover, and then Gantline had his say. He walked into the room one morning carrying two glasses full of grog, and he put them both on the sea-chest.

“Jones looked up and recognized him--for he was clear in his mind now--and he started for him. But he was too weak, and Gantline bore him back into the bunk and poked a revolver into his face, telling him to keep quiet.

“‘You are in my hands now, and I’ll give you a fair chance, but God knows you don’t deserve it,’ he said. ‘I could tip you over the side as well as not, but I won’t unless it’s your fate.’

“The fellow saw he was caught and started up again, but Gantline drew the barrel of his pistol level with his eyes, so he kept quiet.

“‘Now,’ he went on, ‘you are too weak to fight with any chance, but I’ve followed you too long to let you go unless it’s the will of Providence. In one of those glasses of grog is a poison that will put one man out of misery without any mess. I know which glass holds it, but you don’t; so I’ll give you first chance. If it comes to me I’ll drink it, but if it comes to you, you’ll drink it or I’ll put a hole in your face. Now let her go.’

“The fellow Jones lay silent a moment and looked Gantline steadily in the eyes. Then a smile broke slowly over his face. He picked up a glass and drank off the liquor, and Gantline did the same. Then Gantline hurried on deck.

“He walked fore and aft a few moments and then dived below for the medicine-chest.”

“What!” cried Chips, “did he get the poison?”

“Sure,” said Mr. Enlis; “but you see Gantline isn’t such a fool as he looks. He had done some thinking during those moments on deck, and it seemed to clear his mind. It don’t do to lay down the law to Providence. No, sir, it don’t do. You never can tell just what Providence will do. Gantline measured a tremendous emetic and gulped it down. Likewise, in a moment, up it came, and the poison with it.

“After all, he did the right thing by Jones. He put him ashore, and as luck would have it, the war was on then, and he was shot just outside Valparaiso by the Chilian soldiers, who took him for a deserter. That’s the reason Gantline never says anything good about wimmen--and I don’t blame him much!”

THE END