Powell did not detect any particular excellence in what seemed a spying
employment. But in his simplicity he said that he should have thought
Mrs. Anthony would have been glad anyhow to have another woman on board.
He was thinking of the white-faced girlish personality which it seemed to
him ought to have been cared for. The innocent young man always looked
upon the girl as immature; something of a child yet.
"She! glad! Why it was she who had her fired out. She didn't want
anybody around the cabin. Mrs. Brown is certain of it. She told her
husband so. You ask the steward and hear what he has to say about it.
That's why I don't like it. A capable woman who knew her place. But no.
Out she must go. For no fault, mind you. The captain was ashamed to
send her away. But that wife of his--aye the precious pair of them have
got hold of him. I can't speak to him for a minute on the poop without
that thimble-rigging coon coming gliding up. I'll tell you what. I
overheard once--God knows I didn't try to--only he forgot I was on the
other side of the skylight with my sextant--I overheard him--you know how
he sits hanging over her chair and talking away without properly opening
his mouth--yes I caught the word right enough. He was alluding to the
captain as "the jailer." The jail . . . !"
Franklin broke off with a profane execration. A silence reigned for a
long time and the slight, very gentle rolling of the ship slipping before
the N.E. trade-wind seemed to be a soothing device for lulling to sleep
the suspicions of men who trust themselves to the sea.
A deep sigh was heard followed by the mate's voice asking dismally if
that was the way one would speak of a man to whom one wished well? No
better proof of something wrong was needed. Therefore he hoped, as he
vanished at last, that Mr. Powell would be on their side. And this time
Mr. Powell did not answer this hope with an embarrassed laugh.
That young officer was more and more surprised at the nature of the
incongruous revelations coming to him in the surroundings and in the
atmosphere of the open sea. It is difficult for us to understand the
extent, the completeness, the comprehensiveness of his inexperience, for
us who didn't go to sea out of a small private school at the age of
fourteen years and nine months. Leaning on his elbow in the mizzen
rigging and so still that the helmsman over there at the other end of the
poop might have (and he probably did) suspect him of being criminally
asleep on duty, he tried to "get hold of that thing" by some side which
would fit in with his simple notions of psychology. "What the deuce are
they worrying about?" he asked himself in a dazed and contemptuous
impatience. But all the same "jailer" was a funny name to give a man;
unkind, unfriendly, nasty. He was sorry that Mr. Smith was guilty in
that matter because, the truth must be told, he had been to a certain
extent sensible of having been noticed in a quiet manner by the father of
Mrs. Anthony. Youth appreciates that sort of recognition which is the
subtlest form of flattery age can offer. Mr. Smith seized opportunities
to approach him on deck. His remarks were sometimes weird and
enigmatical.