The Day's Work

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overboard— professionally, McPhee does not approve of
saving life at sea, and he has often told me that a new Hell
awaits stokers and trimmers who sign for a strong man's
pay and fall sick the second day out. He believes in
throwing boots at fourth and fifth engineers when they
wake him up at night with word that a bearing is red-
hot, all because a lamp's glare is reflected red from the
twirling metal. He believes that there are only two
poets in the world ; one being Robert Burns, of course,
and the other Gerald Massey. When he has time for
novelshe reads Wilkie Collins and Charles Reade— chiefly
the latter— and knows whole pages of "Very Hard
Cash ' ' by heart. In the saloon his table is next to the
captain's, and he drinks only water while his engines
work.

He was good to me when we first met, because I did not
ask questions, and believed in Charles Reade as a most
shamefully neglected author. Later he approved of my
writings to the extent of one pamphlet of twenty-four
pages that I wrote for Holdock, Steiner & Chase, own-
ers of the line, when they bought some ventilating
patent and fitted it to the cabins of the Breslau, Span-
dau, and Koltzau. The purser of the Breslau recom-
mended me to Holdock's secretary for the job; and
Holdock, who is a Wesley an Methodist, invited me to
his house, and gave me dinner with the governess when
the others had finished, and placed the plans and specifi-
cations in my hand, and I wrote the pamphlet that same
afternoon. It was called ' ' Comfort in the Cabin, ' ' and
brought me seven pound ten, cash down— an important
sum of money in those days; and the governess, who
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was teaching Master John Holdock his scales, told me
that Mrs. Holdock had told her to keep an eye on me,
in case I went away with coats from the hat-rack.
McPhee liked that pamphlet enormously, for it was
composed in the Bouverie-Byzantine style, with baroque
and rococo embellishments; and afterwards he intro-
duced me to Mrs. McPhee, who succeeded Dinah in my
heart ; for Dinah was half a world away, and it is whole-
some and antiseptic to love such a woman as Janet
McPhee. They lived in a little twelve-pound house, close
to the shipping. When McPhee was away Mrs. McPhee
read the Lloyds column in the papers, and called on the
wives of senior engineers of equal social standing. Once
or twice, too, Mrs. Holdock visited Mrs. McPhee in a
brougham with celluloid fittings, and I have reason to
believe that, after she had played owner's wife long
enough, they talked scandal. The Holdocks lived in an
old-fashioned house with a big brick garden not a mile
from the McPhees, for they stayed by their money as
their money stayed by them; and in summer you met
their brougham solemnly junketing by Theydon Bois or
Loughton. But I was Mrs. McPhee's friend, for she
allowed me to convoy her westward, sometimes, to thea-
tres where she sobbed or laughed or shivered with a
simple heart ; and she introduced me to a new world of
doctors' wives, captains' wives, and engineers' wives,
whose whole talk and thought centred in and about ships
and lines of ships you have never heard of. There were
sailing-ships, with stewards and mahogany and maple
saloons, trading to Australia, taking cargoes of con-
sumptives and hopeless drunkards for whom a sea-voy-
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age was recommended; there were frowzy little West
African boats, full of rats and cockroaches, where men
died anywhere but in their bunks ; there were Brazilian
boats whose cabins could be hired for merchandise, that
went out loaded nearly awash ; there were Zanzibar and
Mauritius steamers and wonderful reconstructed boats
that plied to the other side of Borneo. These were loved
and known, for they earned our bread and a little but-
ter, and we despised the big Atlantic boats, and made
fun of the P. & O. and Orient liners, and swore by our
respective owners— Wesley an, Baptist, or Presbyterian,
as the case might be.

I had only just come back to England when Mrs.
McPhee invited me to dinner at three o'clock in the
afternoon, and the notepaper was almost bridal in its
scented creaminess. When I reached the house I saw
that there were new curtains in the window that must
have cost forty-five shillings a pair; and as Mrs. McPhee
drew me into the little marble-papered hall, she looked
at me keenly, and cried :

" Have ye not heard? What d' ye think o' the hat-
rack?"

Now, that hat-rack was oak— thirty shillings, at least.
McPhee came down-stairs with a sober foot— he steps as
lightly as a cat, for all his weight, when he is at sea— and
shook hands in a new and awful manner — a parody of
old Holdock's style when he says good-bye to his skip-
pers. I perceived at once that a legacy had come to
him, but I held my peace, though Mrs. McPhee begged
me every thirty seconds to eat a great deal and say noth-
ing. It was rather a mad sort of meal, because McPhee
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and his wife took hold of hands like little children
(they always do after voyages), and nodded and winked
and choked and gurgled, and hardly ate a mouthful.

A female servant came in and waited; though Mrs.
McPhee had told me time and again that she would
thank no one to do her housework while she had her
health. But this was a servant with a cap, and I saw
Mrs. McPhee swell and swell under her grarcmce-coloured
gown. There is no small free-board to Janet McPhee, nor
is garance any subdued tint; and with all this unex-
plained pride and glory in the air I felt like watching
fireworks without knowing the festival. When the maid
had removed the cloth she brought a pineapple that
would have cost half a guinea at that season (only
McPhee has his own way of getting such things^, and a
Canton china bowl of dried lichis, and a glass plate of
preserved ginger, and a small jar of sacred and Imperial
chow-chow that perfumed the room. McPhee gets it
from a Dutchman in Java, and I think he doctors it with
liqueurs. But the crown of the feast was some Madeira
of the kind you can only come by if you know the wine
and the man. A little maize-wrapped fig of clotted
Madeira cigars went with the wine, and the rest was a
pale blue smoky silence ; Janet, in her splendour, smiling
on us two, and patting McPhee*s hand.

" We '11 drink," said McPhee, slowly, rubbing his
chin, ' ' to the eternal damnation o' Holdock, Steiner &
Chase."

Of course I answered * ' Amen, ' ' though I had made
seven pound ten shillings out of the firm. McPhee's
enemies were mine, and I was drinking his Madeira.
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" Ye Ve heard nothing? " said Janet. " Not a word,
not a whisper? "

"Not a word, nor a whisper. On my word, I have not. ' '

" Tell him, Mac," said she; and that is another proof
of Janet's goodness and wifely love. A smaller woman
would have babbled first, but Janet is five feet nine in
her stockings.

' ' We 're rich, ' ' said McPhee. I shook hands all round.

" We 're damned rich," he added. I shook hands all
round a second time.

"I '11 go to sea no more— unless— there 's no sayin'
— a private yacht, maybe— wi' a small an' handy auxil-
iary."

" It 's not enough for that, ' ' said Janet. ' ' We 're fair
rich— well-to-do, but no more. A new gown for church,
and one for the theatre. We '11 have it made west."

" How much is it? " I asked.

"Twenty-five thousand pounds." I drew a long
breath. ' ' An' I ' ve been earnin' twenty-five an' twenty
pound a month! " The last words came away with a
roar, as though the wide world was conspiring to beat
him down.

"All this time I 'm waiting," I said. "I know
nothing since last September. Was it left you? "

They laughed aloud together. " It was left," said
McPhee, choking. " Ou, ay, it was left. That 's vara
good. Of course it was left. Janet, d' ye note that?
It was left. Now if you 'd put that in your pamphlet
it would have been vara jocose. It was left." He
slapped his thigh and roared till the wine quivered in
the decanter.

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The Scotch are a great people, but they are apt to
hang over a joke too long, particularly when no one can
see the point but themselves.

" When I rewrite my pamphlet I '11 put it in, McPhee.
Only I must know something more first."

McPhee thought for the length of half a cigar, while
Janet caught my eye and led it round the room to one
new thing after another— the new vine-pattern carpet,
the new chiming rustic clock between the models of the
Colombo outrigger-boats, the new inlaid sideboard with
a purple cut-glass flower-stand, the fender of gilt and
brass, and last, the new black-and-gold piano.

" In October o' last year the Board sacked me," began
McPhee. " In October o' last year the Breslau came in
for winter overhaul. She 'd been runnin' eight months
—two hunder an' forty days— an' I was three days
makin' up my indents, when she went to dry-dock.
All told, mark you, it was this side o' three hunder
pound— to be preceese, two hunder an' eighty-six pound
four shillings. There 's not another man could ha'
nursed the Breslau for eight months to that tune.
Never again— never again! They may send their boats
to the bottom, for aught I care. ' '

1 ' There 's no need, ' ' said Janet, softly. * * We 're done
wi' Holdock, Steiner & Chase."

"It 's irritatin', Janet, it 's just irritatin'. I ha'
been justified from first to last, as the world knows, but
—but I canna forgie 'em. Ay, wisdom is justified o'
her children ; an' any other man than me wad ha' made
the indent eight hunder. Hay was our skipper— ye '11
have met him. They shifted him to the Torgau, an' bade
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me wait for the Breslau under young Bannister. Ye '11
obsairve there 'd been a new election on the Board. I
heard the shares were sellin' hither an' yon, an' the
major part of the Board was new to me. The old Board
would ne'er ha' done it. They trusted me. But the
new Board were all for reorganisation. Young Steiner—
Steiner's son— the Jew, was at the bottom of it, an' they
did not think it worth their while to send me word.
The first I knew— an' I was Chief Engineer— was the
notice of the line's winter sailin's, and the Breslau
timed for sixteen days between port an' port ! Sixteen
days, man ! She 's a good boat, but eighteen is her sum-
mer time, mark you. Sixteen was sheer flytin', kitin'
nonsense, an' so I told young Bannister.

" ' We 've got to make it,' he said. 'Ye should not
ha' sent in a three hunder pound indent.'

" i Do they look for their boats to be run on air? ' I
said. * The Board 's daft.'

" * E'en tell 'em so,' he says. ' I 'm a married man,
an' my fourth 's on the ways now, she says.' '

" A boy— wi' red hair," Janet put in. Her own hair
is the splendid red-gold that goes with a creamy com-
plexion.

" My word, I was an angry man that day ! Forbye I
was fond o' the old Breslau, I looked for a little consid-
eration from the Board after twenty years' service.
There was Board-meetin' on Wednesday, an' I slept
overnight in the engine-room, takin' figures to support
my case. Well, I put it fair and square before them all.
' Gentlemen,' I said, ' I 've run the Breslau eight sea-
sons, an' I believe there 's no fault to find wi' my wark.
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But if ye baud to this ' —I waggled the advertisement at
'em-—' this that I 've never heard of it till I read it at
breakfast, I do assure you on my professional reputation,
she can never do it. That is to say, she can for a while,
but at a risk no thinkin' man would run. '

" ' What the deil d' ye suppose we pass your indents
for? ' says old Holdock. ' Man, we 're spendin' money
like watter. '

" ' I '11 leave it in the Board's hands,' I said, ' if two
bunder an' eighty-seven pound is anything beyond right
and reason for eight months.' I might ha' saved my
breath, for the Board was new since the last election,
an' there they sat, the damned deevidend-huntin' ship-
chandlers, deaf as the adders o' Scripture.

" * We must keep faith wi' the public,' said young
Steiner.

" ' Keep faith wi' the Breslau, then,' I said. ' She 's
served you well, an1 your father before you. She '11
need her bottom restiffenin', an' new bed-plates, an'
turnin' out the forward boilers, an' re-turnin' all three
cylinders, an' refacin' all guides, to begin with. It 's a
three months' job.'

' ' ' Because one employ 4 is afraid? ' says young Steiner.
' Maybe a piano in the Chief Engineer's cabin would be
more to the point.'

" I crushed my cap in my hands, an' thanked God
we 'd no bairns an' a bit put by.

" ' Understand, gentlemen,' I said. ' If the Breslau
is made a sixteen-day boat, ye '11 find another engineer. '

" ' Bannister makes no objection,' said Holdock.

" ' I 'm speakin' for myself,' I said. ' Bannister has
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bairns.' An' then I lost my temper. ' Ye can run her
into Hell an' out again if ye pay pilotage, ' I said, * but
ye run without me. '

" ' That 's insolence,' said young Steiner.
" ' At your pleasure,' I said, turnin' to go.
" ' Ye can consider yourself dismissed. We must
preserve discipline among our employes,' said old Hoi-
dock, an' he looked round to see that the Board was
with him. They knew nothin'— God forgie 'em— an'
they nodded me out o' the line after twenty years—
after twenty years.

" I went out an' sat down by the hall porter to get my
wits again. I 'm thinkin' I swore at the Board. Then
auld McRimmon— o' McNaughten & McRimmon— came
oot o' his office, that 's on the same floor, an' looked at
me, proppin' up one eyelid wi' his forefinger. Ye know
they call him the Blind Deevil, forbye he 's onythin' but
blind, an' no deevil in his dealin's wi' me— McRimmon
o' the Black Bird Line.

" ' What 's here, Mister McPhee? ' said he.
" I was past prayin' for by then. ' A Chief Engineer
sacked after twenty years' service because he '11 not
risk the Breslau on the new timin', an' be damned to
ye, McRimmon,' I said.

' ' The auld man sucked in his lips an' whistled. ' Ah, '
said he, ' the new timin'. I see! ' He doddered into
the Board-room I 'd just left, an' the Dandie-dog that
is just his blind man's leader stayed wi' me. That
was providential. In a minute he was back again.
' Ye 've cast your bread on the watter, McPhee, an' be
damned to you,' he says. ' Whaur 's my dog? My
word, is he on your knee? There 's more discernment
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in a dog than a Jew. What garred ye curse your Board,
McPhee? It 's expensive.'

" ' They '11 pay more for the BreslauJ I said. ' Get
off my knee, ye smotherin' beast.'

" ' Bearin's hot, eh? ' said McRimmon. ' It 's thirty
year since a man daur curse me to my face. Time was
I 'd ha' cast ye doon the stairway for that.'

" * Forgie 's all! ' I said. He was wearin' to eighty,
as I knew. ' I was wrong, McRimmon ; but when a
man 's shown the door for doin' his plain duty he 's not
always ceevil. '

" ' So I hear,' says McRimmon. * Ha' ye ony objec-
tion to a tramp freighter? It 's only fifteen a month,
but they say the Blind Deevil feeds a man better than
others. She 's my Kite. Come ben. Ye can thank
Dandie, here. I 'm no used to thanks. An' noo, ' says
he, ' what possessed ye to throw up your berth wl' Hoi-
dock? '

" ' The new timiny said I. * The Breslau will not
stand it.'

4 ' ' Hoot, oot, ' said he. * Ye might ha' crammed her a
little— enough to show ye were drivin' her— an' brought
her in twa days behind. What 's easier than to say ye
slowed for bearin's, eh? All my men do it, and— I
believe xem.'

" ' McRimmon,' says I, 4 what 's her virginity to a
lassie? '

" He puckered his dry face an' twisted in his chair.
' The warld an' a',' says he. ' My God, the vara warld
an' a' 1 But what ha' you or me to do wi' virginity,
this late along?'

" ' This,' I said. ' There 's just one thing that each
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one of us in his trade or profession will not do for ony
consideration whatever. If I run to time I run to time,
barrin' always the risks o' the high seas. Less than
that, under God, I have not done. More than that,
by God, I will not do! There 's no trick o' the trade
I 'm not acquaint wi' — '

"'So I 've heard,' says McRimmon, dry as a bis-
cuit.

" ' But yon matter o' fair runnin' 's just my Shekinah,
ye '11 understand. I daurna tamper wi' that. Nursing
weak engines is fair craftsmanship ; but what the Board
ask is cheatin', wi' the risk o' manslaughter addeetional. '
Ye '11 note I know my business.

" There was some more talk, an' next week I went
aboard the Kite, twenty-five hunder ton, simple com-
pound, a Black Bird tramp. The deeper she rode, the
better she 'd steam. I 've snapped as much as eleven
out of her, but eight point three was her fair normal.
Good food forward an' better aft, all indents passed
wi'out marginal remarks, the best coal, new don-
keys, and good crews. There was nothin' the old man
would not do, except paint. That was his deeficulty.
Ye could no more draw paint than his last teeth from
him. He 'd come down to dock, an' his boats a scandal
all along the watter, an' he 'd whine an' cry an' say they
looked all he could desire. Every owner has his non
plus ultra, I 've obsairved. Paint was McRimmon's.
But you could get round his engines without riskin' your
life, an', for all his blindness, I 've seen him reject five
flawed intermediates, one after the other, on a nod from
me; an' his cattle-fittin's were guaranteed for North
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Atlantic winter weather. Ye ken what that means?
McEimmon an' the Black Bird Line, God bless him!

" Oh, I forgot to say she would lie down an' fill her
forward deck green, an' snore away into a twenty-knot
gale forty-five to the minute, three an' a half knots an
hour, the engines runnin' sweet an' true as a bairn
breathin' in its sleep. Bell was skipper; an' forbye
there 's no love lost between crews an' owners, we were
fond o' the auld Blind Deevil an' his dog, an' I 'm
thinkin' he liked us. He was worth the windy side o'
twa million sterlin', an' no friend to his own blood-kin.
Money 's an awfu' thing— overmuch— for a lonely
man.

" I 'd taken her out twice, there an' back again, when
word came o' the Breslau's breakdown, just as I pro-
phesied. Calder was her engineer — he 's not fit to run
a tug down the Solent— and he fairly lifted the engines
off the bed-plates, an' they fell down in heaps, by what I
heard. So she filled from the after stuffin'-box to the
after bulkhead, an' lay star-gazing, with seventy-nine
squealin' passengers in the saloon, till the Camaralza-
man o' Eamsey & Gold's Cartagena line gave her a
tow to the tune o' five thousand seven hunder an' forty
pound, wi' costs in the Admiralty Court. She was help-
less, ye '11 understand, an' in no case to meet ony
weather. Five thousand seven hunder an' forty pounds,
with costs, an' exclusive o' new engines! They 'd ha'
done better to ha' kept me— on the old timin'.

" But, even so, the new Board were all for retrench-
ment. Young Steiner, the Jew, was at the bottom of it.
They sacked men right an' left, that would not eat the
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dirt the Board gave 'em. They cut down repairs; they
fed crews wi' leavin's an' scrapin's; and, reversin'
McRimmon's practice, they hid their defeeciencies wi'
paint an' cheap gildin' . Quern Deus vult perrdere prrius
dementat, ye remember.

" In January we went to dry-dock, an' in the next
dock lay the Grotkau, their big freighter that was the
Doldbella o' Piegan, Piegan & Walsh's line in '84— a
Clyde-built iron boat, a flat-bottomed, pigeon-breasted,
under-engined, bull-nosed bitch of a five thousand ton
freighter, that would neither steer, nor steam, nor stop
when ye asked her. Whiles she 'd attend to her
helm, whiles she 'd take charge, whiles she 'd wait to
scratch herself, an' whiles she 'd buttock into a dock-
head. But Holdock and Steiner had bought her cheap,
and painted her all over like the Hoor o' Babylon, an'
we called her the Hoor for short. ' ' (By the way, McPhee
kept to that name throughout the rest of his tale; so
you must read accordingly.) " I went to see young
Bannister— he had to take what the Board gave him, an'
he an' Calder were shifted together from the Breslau to
this abortion— an' talkin' to him I went into the dock
under her. Her plates were pitted till the men that
were paint, paint, paintin' her laughed at it. But the
war s t was at the last . She ' d a great clumsy iron twelve-
foot Thresher propeller— Aitcheson designed the Kites'
—and just on the tail o' the shaft, behind the boss, was
a red weepin' crack ye could ha' put a penknife to.
Man, it was an awf u' crack !

" ' When d' ye ship a new tail-shaft? ' I said to Ban-
nister.

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When d' ye ship a new tail-shaft ? ' I said to Bannister.

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" He knew what I meant. ' Oh, yon 's a superfeecial
flaw, ' says he, not lookin' at me.

" ' Superfeecial Gehenna! ' I said. * Ye '11 not take
her oot wi' a solution o' continuity that like.'

" * They '11 putty it up this evening,' he said. * I 'm
a married man, an'— ye used to know the Board.'

"I e'en said what was gied me in that hour. Ye
know how a dry-dock echoes. I saw young Steiner
standin' listenin' above me, an', man, he used language
provocative of a breach o' the peace. I was a spy and
a disgraced employe, an' a corrupter o' young Bannis-
ter's morals, an' he 'd prosecute me for libel. He went
away when I ran up the steps— I 'd ha' thrown him into
the dock if I 'd caught him— an' there I met McRimmon,
wi' Dandie pullin' on the chain, guidin' the auld man
among the railway lines.

*' ' McPhee,' said he, ' ye 're no paid to fight Holdock,
Steiner, Chase & Company, Limited, when ye meet.
What 's wrong between you? '

" ' No more than a tail-shaft rotten as a kail-stump.
For ony sakes go an' look, McRimmon. It 's a come-
dietta. '

" ' I 'm feared o' yon conversational Hebrew,' said he.
4 Whaur 's the flaw, an' what like? '

" ' A seven-inch crack just behind the boss. There 's
no power on earth will fend it just jarrin' off.'
- "' When?'

" * That 's beyon' my knowledge,' I said.

" 'So it is; so it is,' said McRimmon. ' We 've all
oor leemitations. Ye 're certain it was a crack? '

" * Man, it 's a crevasse,' I said, for there were no
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words to describe the magnitude of it. ' An' young
Bannister 's say in' it 's no more than a superfeecial
flaw!'

" ' Weell, I tak' it oor business is to mind oor busi-
ness. If ye 've ony friends aboard her, McPhee, why
not bid them to a bit dinner at Eadley's? '

" ' I was thinkin' o' tea in the cuddy,' I said. ' Engi-
neers o' tramp freighters cannot afford hotel prices. '

u ' Na! na! ' says the auld man, whimperin'. * Not
the cuddy. They '11 laugh at my Kite, for she 's no
plastered with paint like the Hoor. Bid them to Bad-
ley's, McPhee, an' send me the bill. Thank Dandie,
here, man. I 'm no used to thanks. ' Then he turned
him round. (I was just thinkin' the vara same thing.)
' Mister McPhee, ' said he, ' this is not senile dementia. '

u * Preserve 's! ' I said, clean jumped oot o' mysel'.
* I was but thinkin' you 're fey, McRimmon.'

" Dod, the auld deevil laughed till he nigh sat down on
Dandie. * Send me the bill,' says he. ' I 'm long past
champagne, but tell me how it tastes the morn.'

" Bell and I bid young Bannister and Calder to dinner
at Radley 's. They '11 have no laughin' an' singin' there,
but we took a private room— like yacht-owners fra'
Cowes."

McPhee grinned all over, and lay back to think.

"And then?" said I.

" We were no drunk in ony preceese sense o' the word,
but Eadley 's showed me the dead men. There were six
magnums o' dry champagne an' maybe a bottle o'
whisky."

" Do you mean to tell me that you four got away
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with a magnum and a half a piece, besides whisky? " I
demanded.

McPhee looked down upon me from between his
shoulders with toleration.

" Man, we were not settin' down to drink," he said.
' ' They no more than made us wutty . To be sure, young
Bannister laid his head on the table an' greeted like a
bairn, an' Calder was all for callin' on Steiner at two in
the morn an' painting him galley-green ; but they 'd been
drinkin' the afternoon. Lord, how they twa cursed
the Board, an' the Grofkau, an' the tail-shaft, an' the
engines, an' a' I They didna talk o' superfeecial flaws
that night. I mind young Bannister an' Calder shakin'
hands on a bond to be revenged on the Board at ony
reasonable cost this side o' losing their certificates.
Now mark ye how false economy ruins business. The
Board fed them like swine (I have good reason to know
it), an' I 've obsairved wi' my ain people that if ye touch
his stomach ye wauken the deil in a Scot. Men will tak'
a dredger across the Atlantic if they 're well fed, an'
fetch her somewhere on the broadside o' the Americas;
but bad food 's bad service the warld over.

" The bill went to McRimmon, an' he said no more to
me till the week-end, when I was at him for more paint,
for we 'd heard the Kite was chartered Liverpool-side.

"'Bide whaur ye 're put,' said the Blind Deevil.
' Man, do ye wash in champagne? The Kite 's no leavin'
here till I gie the order, an'— how am I to waste paint
on her, wi' the Lammergeyer docked for who knows how
long an' a' ? '

" She was our big freighter— Mclntyre was engineer
[315]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

—an' I knew she 'd come from overhaul not three
months. That morn I met McRimmon's head-clerk—
ye '11 not know him— fair bitin' his nails off wi' morti-
fication.

" ' The auld man 's gone gyte, ' says he. ' He 's with-
drawn the Lammergeyer. '

" ' Maybe he has reasons,' says I.

'"Reasons! He 's daft! '

" * He '11 no be daft till he begins to paint,' I said.

" ' That 's just what he 's done— and South American
freights higher than we '11 live to see them again. He '»
laid her up to paint her— to paint her— to paint her! '
says the little clerk, dancin' like a hen on a hot plate.
* Five thousand ton o' potential freight rottin' in dry-
dock, man ; an' he dolin' the paint out in quarter-pound-
tins, for it cuts him to the heart, mad though he is. An'
the Grotkau— the GrotJcau of all conceivable bottoms-
soaking up every pound that should be ours at Liver-
pool!'

" I was staggered wi' this folly— considerin' the din-
ner at Radley's in connection wi' the same.

" * Ye may well stare, McPhee,' says the head-clerk.
4 There 's engines, an' rollin' stock, an' iron bridges—
d' ye know what freights are noo?— an' pianos, an' mil-
linery, an' fancy Brazil cargo o' every species pourin'
into the GrotJcau— the GrotJcau o' the Jerusalem firm
—and the Lammergeyer 's bein' painted! '

" Losh, I thought he 'd drop dead wi' the fits.

" I could say no more than ' Obey orders, if ye break
owners,' but on the Kite we believed McRimmon was
mad ; an' Mclntyre of the Lammergeyer was for lockin'
[316]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

him up by some patent legal process he 'd found in a
book o' maritime law. An' a' that week South Amer-
ican freights rose an' rose. It was sinfu' !

" Syne Bell got orders to tak' the Kite round to Liver-
pool in water-ballast, and McRimmon came to bid 's
good-bye, yammerin' an' whinin' o'er the acres o' paint
he 'd lavished on the Lammergeyer.

" ' I look to you to retrieve it,' says he. * I look to
you to reimburse me! 'Fore God, why are ye not cast
off? Are ye dawdlin' in dock for a purpose? '

" ' What odds, McRimmon? ' says Bell. < We '11 be a
day behind the fair at Liverpool. The GrotJcau 's got
all the freight that might ha' been ours an' the Lam-
mergeyer' s.' McRimmon laughed an' chuckled— the
pairf ect eemage o' senile dementia. Ye ken his eyebrows
wark up an' down like a gorilla's.

" ' Ye 're under sealed orders,' said he, tee-heein' an'
scratchin' himself. * Yon 's they '—to be opened seria-
tim.

11 Says Bell, shufflin' the envelopes when the auld man
had gone ashore : ' We 're to creep round a' the south
coast, standin' in for orders— this weather, too. There 's
no question o' his lunacy now.'

" Well, we buttocked the auld Kite along— vara bad
weather we made— standin' in all alongside for tele-
graphic orders, which are the curse o' skippers. Syne
we made over to Holy head, an' Bell opened the last
envelope for the last instructions. I was wi' him in the
cuddy, an' he threw it over to me, cryin' : * Did ye ever
know the like, Mac? '

"I'U no say what McRimmon had written, but he
[317]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

was far from mad. There was a sou'wester brewin'
when we made the mouth o' the Mersey, a bitter cold
morn wi' a grey-green sea and a grey-green sky— Liver-
pool weather, as they say; an' there we lay choppin',
an' the crew swore. Ye canna keep secrets aboard ship.
They thought McRimmon was mad, too.

" Syne we saw the Grotkau rollin' oot on the top o'
flood, deep an' double deep, wi' her new-painted funnel
an' her new-painted boats an' a' . She looked her name,
an', moreover, she coughed like it. Calder tauld me at
Radley's what ailed his engines, but my own ear would
ha' told me twa mile awa', by the beat o' them. Round
we came, plungin' an' squatterin' in her wake, an' the
wind cut wi' good promise o' more to come. By six it
blew hard but clear, an' before the middle watch it was
a sou'wester in airnest.

" * She '11 edge into Ireland, this gait,' says Bell. I
was with him on the bridge, watchin' the Grotkau^s port
light. Ye canna see green so far as red, or we 'd ha'
kept to leeward. We 'd no passengers to consider, an'
(all eyes being on the Grotkau) we fair walked into a liner
rampin' home to Liverpool. Or, to be preceese, Bell no
more than twisted the Kite oot from under her bows,
and there was a little damnin' betwix' the twa bridges.
Noo a passenger "— McPhee regarded me benignantly —
" wad ha' told the papers that as soon as he got to the
Customs. "We stuck to the GrotJcau's tail that night an'
the next twa days— she slowed down to five knot by my
reckonin'— and we lapped along the weary way to the
Fastnet."

" But you don't go by the Fastnet to get to any South
American port, do you? " I said.
[318]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" We do not. We prefer to go as direct as may be.
But we were folio win' the Grotkau, an' she 'd no walk
into that gale for ony consideration. Knowin' what I
did to her discredit, I couldna blame young Bannister.
It was warkin' up to a North Atlantic winter gale, snow
an' sleet an' a perishin' wind. Eh, it was like the Deil
walkin' abroad o' the surface o' the deep, whuppin' off
the top o' the waves before he made up his mind. They 'd
bore up against it so far, but the minute she was clear
o' the Skelligs she fair tucked up her skirts an' ran for
it by Dunmore Head. Wow, she rolled!

" * She '11 be makin' Smerwick,' says Bell.

" ' She 'd ha' tried for Ventry by noo if she meant
that,' I said.

" ' They '11 roll the funnel oot o' her, this gait,' says
Bell. ' Why canna Bannister keep her head to sea? '

"'It 's the tail-shaft. Ony rollin' 's better than
pitchin' wi' superf eecial cracks in the tail-shaft. Calder
knows that much, ' I said.

" ' It 's ill wark retreevin' steamers this weather,' said
Bell. His beard and whiskers were frozen to his oilskin,
an' the spray was white on the weather side of him.
Pairfect North Atlantic winter weather!

" One by one the sea raxed away our three boats, an'
the davits were crumpled like ram's horns.

" ' Yon 's bad, ' said Bell, at the last. ' Ye canna pass
a hawser wi'oot a boat.' Bell was a vara judeecious
man— for an Aberdonian.

" I 'm not one that fashes himself for eventualities

outside the engine-room, so I e'en slipped down betwixt

waves to see how the Kite fared. Man, she 's the best

geared boat of her class that ever left Clyde! Kin-

[319]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

loch, my second, knew her as well as I did. I found
him dryin' his socks on the main-steam, an' combin' his
whiskers wi' the comh Janet gied me last year, for the
warld an' a' as though we were in port. I tried the feed,
speered into the stoke-hole, thumbed all bearin's, spat
on the thrust for luck, gied 'em my blessin', an' took
Kinloch's socks before I went up to the bridge again.

" Then Bell handed me the wheel, an' went below to
warm himself. When he came up my gloves were frozen
to the spokes an' the ice clicked over my eyelids. Pair-
feet North Atlantic winter weather, as I was sayin'.

" The gale blew out by night, but we lay in smotherin'
cross-seas that made the auld Kite chatter from stem to
stern. I slowed to thirty-four, I mind— no, thirty-seven.
There was a long swell the morn, an' the Grotkau was
headin' into it west awa'.

'"She '11 win to Rio yet, tail-shaft or no tail-shaft,'
says Bell.

" ' Last night shook her,' I said. ' She '11 jar it off
yet, mark my word.'

" We were then, maybe, a hunder and fifty mile west-
sou' west o' Slyne Head, by dead reckonin'. Next day
we made a hunder an' thirty— ye '11 note we were not
racin' -boats— an' the day after a hunder an' sixty-one,
an' that made us, we 11 say, Eighteen an' a bittock west,
an' maybe Fifty-one an' a bittock north, crossin' all the
North Atlantic liner lanes on the long slant, always in
sight o' the Grotkau, creepin' up by night and fallin'
awa' by day. After the gale it was cold weather wi'
dark nights.

" I was in the engine-room on Friday night, just be-
[320]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

fore the middle watch, when Bell whustled down the
tube: ' She 's done it ' ; an' up I came.

" The Grotkau was just a fan- distance south, an' one
by one she ran up the three red lights in a vertical line
—the sign of a steamer not under control.

" * Yon 's a tow for us,' said Bell, lickin' his chops.
'She '11 be worth more than the Breslau. We '11 go
down to her, McPhee ! '

" * Bide a while,' I said. ' The seas fair throng wi'
ships here.'

"'Reason why,' said Bell. 'It 's a fortune gaun
beggin'. What d' ye think, man? '

" ' Gie her till daylight. She knows we 're here. If
Bannister needs help he '11 loose a rocket.'

" ' Wha told ye Bannister's need? We '11 ha' some
rag-an'-bone tramp snappin' her up under oor nose,'
said he ; an' he put the wheel over. We were goin' slow.

" ' Bannister wad like better to go home on a liner an'
eat in the saloon. Mind ye what they said o' Holdock
& Steiner's food that night at Radley's? Keep her
awa', man— keep her awa'. A tow 's a tow, but a dere-
lict 's big salvage.'

" ' E-eh! ' said Bell. ' Yon 's an inshot o' yours, Mac.
I love ye like a brother. We '11 bide whaur we are till
daylight ' ; an' he kept her awa'.

" Syne up went a rocket forward, an' twa on the
bridge, an' a blue light aft. Syne a tar-barrel forward
again.

" ' She 's sinkin',' said Bell. ' It 's all gaun, an' I '11
get no more than a pair o' night-glasses for pickin' up
young Bannister— the fooll '

[321]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" * Fair an' soft again,' I said. ' She 's signaUin' to
the south of us. Bannister knows as well as I that one
rocket would bring the Breslau. He '11 no be wastin'
fireworks for nothin'. Hear her ca' ! '

" The Grotkau whustled an' whustled for five min-
utes, an' then there were more fireworks— a regular
exhibeetion.

" ' That 's no for men in the regular trade,' says Bell.
* Ye 're right, Mac. That 's for a cuddy full o' passen-
gers.' He blinked through the night-glasses when it
lay a bit thick to southward.

" ' What d' ye make of it? ' I said.

"'Liner,' he says. 'Yon 's her rocket. Ou, ay;
they 've waukened the gold-strapped skipper, an'— noo
they 've waukened the passengers. They 're turnin' on
the electrics, cabin by cabin. Yon 's anither rocket!
They 're comin' up to help the perishin' in deep watters.'

" ' Gie me the glass,' I said. But Bell danced on the
bridge, clean dementit. ' Mails— mails— mails ! ' said he.
' Under contract wi' the Government for the due con-
veyance o' the mails ; an' as such, Mac, ye '11 note, she
may rescue life at sea, but she canna tow!— she canna
tow! Yon 's her night-signal. She '11 be up in half an
hour! '

"'Gowk!7 I said, 'an' we blazin' here wi' all oor
lights. Oh, BeU, ye 're a fool! '

" He tumbled off the bridge forward, an' I tumbled
aft, an' before ye could wink our lights were oot, the
engine-room hatch was covered, an' we lay pitch-dark,
watchin' the lights o' the liner come up that the Grot-
kau 'd been signallin' to. Twenty knot an hour she
[322]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

came, every cabin lighted, an' her boats swung awa'. It
was grandly done, an' in the inside of an hour. She
stopped like Mrs. Holdock's machine; down went the
gangway, down went the boats, an' in ten minutes we
heard the passengers cheerin', an' awa' she fled.

" ' They '11 tell o' this all the days they live,' said Bell.
' A rescue at sea by night, as pretty as a play. Young
Bannister an' Calder will be drinkin' in the saloon, an'
six months hence the Board o' Trade '11 gie the skipper
a pair o' binoculars. It 's vara philanthropic all round. '

" "We '11 lay by till day— ye may think we waited for
it wi' sore eyes— an' there sat the GrotJcau, her nose a
bit cocked, just leerin' at us. She looked paifectly
ridiculous.

"'She '11 be fillin' aft,' says Bell; ' for why is she
down by the stern? The tail-shaft 's punched a hole
in her, an'— we 've no boats. There 's three hunder
thousand pound sterlin', at a conservative estimate,
droonin' before our eyes. What 's to do?' An' his
bearin's got hot again in a minute: he was an inconti-
nent man.

" * Run her as near as ye daur,' I said. ' Gie me a
jacket an' a life-line, an' I '11 swum for it.' There was
a bit lump of a sea, an' it was cold in the wind— vara
cold; but they 'd gone overside like passengers, young
Bannister an' Calder an' a', leaving the gangway down
on the lee-side. It would ha' been a flyin' in the face o'
manifest Providence to overlook the invitation. "We
were within fifty yards o' her while Kinloch was
garmin' me all over wi' oil behind the galley; an' as we
ran past I went outboard for the salvage o' three hunder
[323]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

thousand pound. Man, it was perishin' cold, but I 'd
done my job judgmatically, an' came scrapin' all along
her side slap on to the lower gratin' o' the gangway.
No one more astonished than me, I assure ye. Before
I 'd caught my breath I 'd skinned both my knees on
the gratin', an' was climbin' up before she rolled again.
I made my line fast to the rail, an' squattered aft to
young Bannister's cabin, whaur I dried me wi' every-
thing in his bunk, an' put on every conceivable sort o'
rig I found till the blood was circulatin'. Three pair
drawers, I mind I found— to begin upon— an' I needed
them all. It was the coldest cold I remember in all my
experience.

" Syne I went aft to the engine-room. The Grotkau
sat on her own tail, as they say. She was vara short-
shafted, an' her gear was all aft. There was four or
five foot o' water in the engine-room slummockin' to and
fro, black an' greasy; maybe there was six foot. The
stoke-hold doors were screwed home, an' the stoke-hold
was tight enough, but for a minute the mess in the en-
gine-room deceived me. Only for a minute, though, an'
that was because I was not, in a manner o' speakin', as
calm as ordinar'. I looked again to mak' sure. 'T was
just black wi' bilge : dead watter that must ha' come in
fortuitously, ye ken."

" McPhee, I 'm only a passenger," I said, " but you
don't persuade me that six foot o' water can come into
an engine-room fortuitously."

" Who 's try in' to persuade one way or the other ? "
McPhee retorted. " I 'm statin' the facts o' the case—
the simple, natural facts. Six or seven foot o' dead
[324]

Drawn by IV. Louis Sonntag.. yr.

It was perishin' cold, but I'd done my job judgmatically, an' came scrapin' all
along her side slap on to the lower gratin' o' the gangway.' "

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

watter in the engine-room is a vara depressin' sight if
ye think there 's like to be more comin' ; but I did not
consider that such was likely, and so, ye '11 note, I was
not depressed."

" That 's all very well, but I want to know about the
water," I said.

" I 've told ye. There was six feet or more there, wi'
Calder's cap floatin' on top."

" Where did it come from? "

" Weel, in the confusion o' things after the propeller
had dropped off an' the engines were racin' an' a', it 's
vara possible that Calder might ha' lost it off his head
an' no troubled himself to pick it up again. I remember
seein' that cap on him at Southampton."

" I don't want to know about the cap. I 'm asking
where the water came from and what it was doing
there, and why you were so certain that it was n't a
leak, McPhee?"

" For good reason— for good an' sufficient reason."

" Give it to me, then."

" Weel, it 's a reason that does not properly concern
myself only. To be preceese, I 'm of opinion that it was
due, the watter, in part to an error o' judgment in an-
other man. We can a' mak' mistakes."

" Oh, I beg your pardon! "

" I got me to the rail again, an\ ' What 's wrang? ' said
Bell, hailin'.

" * She '11 do,' I said. * Send 's o'er a hawser, an' a
man to steer. I '11 pull him in by the life-line.'

" I could see heads bobbin' back an' forth, an' a whuff
or two o' strong words. Then Bell said: * They '11 not
[325]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

trust themselves— one of 'em — in this watter— except
Kinloch, an' I '11 no spare him.'

" ' The more salvage to me, then,' I said. ' I '11 make
shift solo.y

" Says one dock-rat, at this: ' D' ye think she 's safe? '

" ' I '11 guarantee ye nothing,' I said, ' except maybe
a hammerin' for keepin' me this long.'

" Then he sings out: ' There 's no more than one life-
belt, an' they canna find it, or I 'd come.'

" * Throw him over, the Jezebel,' I said, for I was oot
o' patience; an' they took haud o' that volunteer before
he knew what was in store, and hove him over, in the
bight of my life-line. So I e'en hauled him upon the
sag of it, hand over fist— a vara welcome recruit when
I 'd tilted the salt watter oot of him: for, by the way, he
could na swim.

" Syne they bent a twa-inch rope to the life-line, an' a
hawser to that, an' I led the rope o'er the drum of a
hand-winch forward, an' we sweated the hawser inboard
an' made it fast to the Grotlcau's bitts.

" Bell brought the Kite so close I feared she 'd roll in
an' do the Grotkau's plates a mischief. He hove anither
life-line to me, an' went astern, an' we had all the weary
winch work to do again wi' a second hawser. For all
that, Bell was right: we 'd a long tow before us, an'
though Providence had helped us that far, there was no
sense in leavin' too much to its keepin'. When the sec-
ond hawser was fast, I was wet wi' sweat, an' I cried
Bell to tak' up his slack an' go home. The other man
was by way o' helpin' the work wi' askin' for drinks,
but I e'en told him he must hand reef an' steer, begin-
[326]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

nin' with steerin', for I was goin' to turn in. He steered
—oh, ay, he steered, in a manner o' speakin'. At the
least, he grippit the spokes an' twiddled 'em an' looked
wise, but I doubt if the Hoor ever felt it. I turned in
there an' then, to young Bannister's bunk, an' slept past
expression. I waukened ragin' wi' hunger, a fair lump
o' sea runnin', the Kite snorin' awa' four knots an hour;
an' the Grotkau slappin' her nose under, an' yawin' an'
standin' over at discretion. She was a most disgracefu'
tow. But the shameful thing of all was the food. I
raxed me a meal fra galley-shelves an' pantries an7
lazareetes an' cubby-holes that I would not ha' gied to
the mate of a Cardiff collier; an' ye ken we say a Cardiff
mate will eat clinkers to save waste. I 'm sayin' it was
simply vile ! The crew had written what they thought
of it on the new paint o' the fo'c'sle, but I had not a
decent soul wi' me to complain on. There was nothin'
for me to do save watch the hawsers an' the Kite's tail
squatterin' down in white watter when she lifted to a
sea; so I got steam on the after donkey-pump, an'
pumped oot the engine-room. There 's no sense in
leavin' watter loose in a ship. When she was dry, I
went doun the shaft-tunnel, an' found she was leakin'
a little through the stuffin'-box, but nothin' to make
wark. The propeller had e'en jarred off, as I knew it
must, an' Calder had been waitin' for it to go wi' his
hand on the gear. He told me as much when I met him
ashore. There was nothin' started or strained. It had
just slipped awa' to the bed o' the Atlantic as easy as
a man dyin' wi' due warnin'— a most providential busi-
ness for all concerned. Syne I took stock o' the Grot-
[327]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

lean's upper works. Her boats had been smashed on
the davits, an' here an' there was the rail missin', an' a
ventilator or two had fetched awa', an' the bridge-rails
were bent by the seas; but her hatches were tight, and
she 'd taken no sort of harm. Dod, I came to hate her
like a human bein', for I was eight weary days aboard,
starvin'— ay, starvin'— within a cable's length o' plenty.
All day I laid in the bunk reading the ' Woman-Hater, '
the grandest book Charlie Reade ever wrote, an' pickin'
a toothful here an' there. It was weary, weary work.
Eight days, man, I was aboard the Grotkau, an' not
one full meal did I make. Sma' blame her crew would
not stay by her. The other man? Oh I warked him wi'
a vengeance to keep him warm.

u It came on to blow when we fetched soundin's, an'
that kept me standin' by the hawsers, lashed to the
capstan, breathin' twixt green seas. I near died o'
cauld an' hunger, for the Grotkau towed like a barge,
an' Bell howkit her along through or over. It was vara
thick up-Channel, too. We were standin' in to make
some sort o' light, an' we near walked over twa three
nshin' -boats, an' they cried us we were overdose to
Falmouth. Then we were near cut down by a drunken
foreign fruiter that was blunderin' between us an' the
shore, and it got thicker an' thicker that night, an' I
could feel by the tow Bell did not know whaur he was.
Losh, we knew in the morn, for the wind blew the fog
oot like a candle, an' the sun came clear; and as surely
as McRimmon gied me my cheque, the shadow o' the
Eddystone lay across our tow-rope ! We were that near
—ay, we were that near! Bell fetched the Kite round
[328]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

with the jerk that came close to tearin' the bitts out o'
the Grotkau, an' I mind I thanked my Maker in young
Bannister's cabin when we were inside Plymouth break-
water.

" The first to come aboard was McRimmon, wi' Dandie.
Did I tell you our orders were to take anything we found
into Plymouth? The auld deil had just come down
overnight, puttin' two an' two together from what Cal-
der had told him when the liner landed the Grotkau' s
men. He had preceesely hit oor time. I 'd hailed Bell
for something to eat, an' he sent it o'er in the same boat
wi' McRimmon, when the auld man came to me. He
grinned an' slapped his legs and worked his eyebrows
the while I ate.

" * How do Holdock, Steiner & Chase feed their men? '
said he.

" * Ye can see,' I said, knockin' the top off another
beer-bottle. ' I did not sign to be starved, McRimmon.'

*' ' Nor to swum, either, ' said he, for Bell had tauld him
how I carried the line aboard. ' Well, I 'm thinkin'
you '11 be no loser. What freight could we ha' put into
the Lammergeyer would equal salvage on four hunder
thousand pounds— hull an' cargo? Eh, McPhee? This
cuts the liver out o' Holdock, Steiner, Chase & Com-
pany, Limited. Eh, McPhee? An' I 'm sufferin' from
senile dementia now? Eh, McPhee? An' I 'm not daft,
am I, till I begin to paint the Lammergeyer^ Eh,
McPhee? Ye may weel lift your leg, Dandie ! I ha' the
laugh o' them all. Ye found watter in the engine-room? '

" * To speak wi'oot prejudice,' I said, ' there was some
watter.'

[329]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" ' They thought she was sinkin' after the propeller
went. She filled wi' extraordinary rapeedity. Calder
said it grieved him an' Bannister to abandon her. '

" I thought o' the dinner at Radley's, an' what like o'
food I 'd eaten for eight days.

11 ' It would grieve them sore,' I said.

" * But the crew would not hear o' stay in' and
workin' her back under canvas. They 're gaun up an'
down sayin' they 'd ha' starved first.'

" ' They 'd ha' starved if they 'd stayed,' said I.

" * I tak' it, fra Calder 's account, there was a mutiny
a' most.'

' ' ' Ye know more than I, McRimmon, ' I said. f Speak-
in' wi'oot prejudice, for we 're all in the same boat,
who opened the bilge-cock?'

" ' Oh, that 's it— is it? ' said the auld man, an' I could
see he was surprised. ' A bilge-cock, ye say? '

" ' I believe it was a bilge-cock. They were all shut
when I came aboard, but some one had flooded the en-
gine-room eight feet over all, and shut it off with the
worm-an'- wheel gear from the second gratin' after-
wards. '

" ' Losh! ' said McRimmon. ' The ineequity o' man 's
beyond belief. But it 's awfu' discreditable to Holdock,
Steiner & Chase, if that came oot in court. '

*" It 's just my own curiosity,' I said.

"'Aweel, Dandie 's afflicted wi' the same disease.
Dandie, strive against curiosity, for it brings a little dog
into traps an' suchlike. Whaur was the Kite when yon
painted liner took off the Grotkau's people? '
[330]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" ' Just there or thereabouts,' I said.

" * An' which o' you twa thought to cover your
lights?' said he, winkin'.

" ' Dandie,' I said to the dog, ' we must both strive
against curiosity. It 's an unremunerative business.
What 's our chance o' salvage, Dandie? '

" He laughed till he choked. ' Tak' what I gie you,
McPhee, an' be content,' he said. ' Lord, how a man
wastes time when he gets old. Get aboard the Kite,
mon, as soon as ye can. I 've clean forgot there 's a
Baltic charter yammerin' for you at London. That '11
be your last voyage, I 'm thinkin', excep' by way o'
pleasure.'

" Steiner's men were comin' aboard to take charge
an' tow her round, an' I passed young Steiner in a boat
as I went to the Kite. He looked down his nose; but
McRimmon pipes up : ' Here 's the man ye owe the Grot-
Jcau to— at a price, Steiner— at a price! Let me intro-
duce Mr. McPhee to you. Maybe ye 've met before;
but ye 've vara little luck in keepin' your men— ashore
or afloat 1 '

" Young Steiner looked angry enough to eat him as
he chuckled an' whustled in his dry old throat.

" c Ye 've not got your award yet,' Steiner says.

" * Na, na,' says the auld man, in a screech ye could
hear to the Hoe, ' but I 've twa million sterlin', an' no
bairns, ye Judeeas Apella, if ye mean to fight; an' I '11
match ye p'und for p'und till the last p'und 's oot. Ye
ken me, Sterner! I 'm McRimmon o' McNaughten &
McRimmon I*

[331]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" * Dod,' he said betwix' his teeth, sittin' back in the
boat, ' I 've waited fourteen year to break that Jew-
firm, an' God be thankit I '11 do it now.'

" The Kite was in the Baltic while the auld man was
warkin' his warks, but I know the assessors valued the
Grotkau, all told, at over three hunder and sixty thou-
sand— her manifest was a treat o' richness— an' McRim-
mon got a third for salvin' an abandoned ship. Ye see,
there 's vast deeference between towin' a ship wi' men
on her an' pickin' up a derelict— a vast deeference— in
pounds sterlin'. Moreover, twa three o' the Grotkau'' s
crew were burnin' to testify about food, an' there was a
note o' Calder to the Board, in regard to the tail-shaft,
that would ha' been vara damagin' if it hUd come into
court. They knew better than to fight.

" Syne the Kite came back, an' McRimmon paid off
me an' Bell personally, an' the rest of the crew pro rafa,
I believe it 's ca'ed. My share— oor share, I should say
—was just twenty-five thousand pound sterlin'."

At this point Janet jumped up and kissed him.

" Five-and-twenty thousand pound sterlin'. Noo, I 'm
fra the North, and I 'm not the like to fling money awa'
rashly, but I 'd gie six months' pay— one hunder an'
twenty pounds— to know who flooded the engine-room
of the Grotkau. I 'm fairly well acquaint wi' McRim-
mon's eediosyncrasies, and he 'd no hand in it. It was
not Calder, for I 've asked him, an' he wanted to fight
me. It would be in the highest degree unprofessional o'
Calder— not fightin', but openin' bilge-cocks—but for a
while I thought it was him. Ay, I judged it might be
him— under temptation.'7

[332]

"BREAD UPON THE WATERS"

" What 's your theory? " I demanded.

" Weel, I 'm inclined to think it was one o' those
singular providences that remind us we 're in the hands
o' Higher Powers."

" It could n't open and shut itself? "

" I did not mean that; but some half-starvin' oiler or,
maybe, trimmer must ha' opened it awhile to mak' sure
o' leavin' the Grotkau. It 's a demoralisin' thing to see
an engine-room flood up after any accident to the gear—
demoralisin' and deceptive both. Aweel, the man got
what he wanted, for they went aboard the liner cryhV
that the Grotkau was sinkin' . But it 's curious to think
o' the consequences. In a' human probability, he 's bein'
damned in heaps at the present moment aboard another
tramp freighter; an' here am I, wi' five-an' -twenty
thousand pound invested, resolute to go to sea no more
—providential 's the preceese word— except as a passen-
ger, ye '11 understand, Janet."

McPhee kept his word. He and Janet went for a voy-
age as passengers in the first-class saloon. They paid
seventy pounds for their berths ; and Janet found a very
sick woman in the second-class saloon, so that for six-
teen days she lived below, and chatted with the stew-
ardesses at the foot of the second-saloon stairs while her
patient slept. McPhee was a passenger for exactly
twenty-four hours. Then the engineers' mess— where
the oilcloth tables are —joyfully took him to its bosom,
and for the rest of the voyage that company was richer
by the unpaid services of a highly certificated engineer.
[333]

AN ERROR IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION

AN ERROR IN THE FOURTH DIMENSION

BEFORE he was thirty, he discovered that there was
no one to play with him. Though the wealth of
three toilsome generations stood to his account, though
his tastes in the matter of books, bindings, rugs, swords,
bronzes, lacquer, pictures, plate, statuary, horses, con-
servatories, and agriculture were educated and catholic,
the public opinion of his country wanted to know why
he did not go to office daily, as his father had before
him.

So he fled, and they howled behind him that he was
an unpatriotic Anglomaniac, born to consume fruits,
one totally lacking in public spirit. He wore an eye-
glass ; he had built a wall round his country house, with
a high gate that shut, instead of inviting America to sit
on his flower-beds ; he ordered his clothes from England ;
and the press of his abiding city cursed him, from his
eye-glass to his trousers, for two consecutive days.

When he rose to light again, it was where nothing less
than the tents of an invading army in Piccadilly would
make any difference to anybody. If he had money and