Chance - Page 249/275

Mr. Powell expressed a polite incredulity. The thick, congested mate

seemed on the point of bursting with despondency. "That was bad example

though. I was young and fell into dangerous company, made a fool of

myself--yes, as true as you see me sitting here. Drank to forget.

Thought it a great dodge."

Powell looked at the grotesque Franklin with awakened interest and with

that half-amused sympathy with which we receive unprovoked confidences

from men with whom we have no sort of affinity. And at the same time he

began to look upon him more seriously. Experience has its prestige. And

the mate continued: "If it hadn't been for the old lady, I would have gone to the devil. I

remembered her in time. Nothing like having an old lady to look after to

steady a chap and make him face things. But as bad luck would have it,

Captain Anthony has no mother living, not a blessed soul belonging to him

as far as I know. Oh, aye, I fancy he said once something to me of a

sister. But she's married. She don't need him. Yes. In the old days

he used to talk to me as if we had been brothers," exaggerated the mate

sentimentally. "'Franklin,'--he would say--'this ship is my nearest

relation and she isn't likely to turn against me. And I suppose you are

the man I've known the longest in the world.' That's how he used to

speak to me. Can I turn my back on him? He has turned his back on his

ship; that's what it has come to. He has no one now but his old

Franklin. But what's a fellow to do to put things back as they were and

should be. Should be--I say!"

His starting eyes had a terrible fixity. Mr. Powell's irresistible

thought, "he resembles a boiled lobster in distress," was followed by

annoyance. "Good Lord," he said, "you don't mean to hint that Captain

Anthony has fallen into bad company. What is it you want to save him

from?"

"I do mean it," affirmed the mate, and the very absurdity of the

statement made it impressive--because it seemed so absolutely audacious.

"Well, you have a cheek," said young Powell, feeling mentally helpless.

"I have a notion the captain would half kill you if he were to know how

you carry on."

"And welcome," uttered the fervently devoted Franklin. "I am willing, if

he would only clear the ship afterwards of that . . . You are but a

youngster and you may go and tell him what you like. Let him knock the

stuffing out of his old Franklin first and think it over afterwards.

Anything to pull him together. But of course you wouldn't. You are all

right. Only you don't know that things are sometimes different from what

they look. There are friendships that are no friendships, and marriages

that are no marriages. Phoo! Likely to be right--wasn't it? Never a

hint to me. I go off on leave and when I come back, there it is--all

over, settled! Not a word beforehand. No warning. If only: 'What do

you think of it, Franklin?'--or anything of the sort. And that's a man

who hardly ever did anything without asking my advice. Why! He couldn't

take over a new coat from the tailor without . . . first thing, directly

the fellow came on board with some new clothes, whether in London or in

China, it would be: 'Pass the word along there for Mr. Franklin. Mr.

Franklin wanted in the cabin.' In I would go. 'Just look at my back,

Franklin. Fits all right, doesn't it?' And I would say: 'First rate,

sir,' or whatever was the truth of it. That or anything else. Always

the truth of it. Always. And well he knew it; and that's why he dared

not speak right out. Talking about workmen, alterations, cabins . . .

Phoo! . . . instead of a straightforward--'Wish me joy, Mr. Franklin!'

Yes, that was the way to let me know. God only knows what they

are--perhaps she isn't his daughter any more than she is . . . She

doesn't resemble that old fellow. Not a bit. Not a bit. It's very

awful. You may well open your mouth, young man. But for goodness' sake,

you who are mixed up with that lot, keep your eyes and ears open too in

case--in case of . . . I don't know what. Anything. One wonders what

can happen here at sea! Nothing. Yet when a man is called a jailer

behind his back."