He was quite sheltered from the wind and spray in the chart-house, and,
all at once, he became aware of a burning thirst. There was water in a
decanter close at hand, so he indulged in a long drink. That was
wonderfully vivifying. Then his mind turned longingly to tobacco. For
the first time in his life he broke the strict rule of the service in
which he had been trained--and smoked a cigar while on duty.
Now and again he spoke cheerily to the dog. It would be: "Well, Joey, here we are; still got a bark in us!" . . . Or, "You and I
must have our names on the Admiralty chart, Joey:--'Channel surveyed by
Captain Courtenay and pup; details uncertain.' How does that sound, old
chap?" And again, "I suppose your friend, Miss Maxwell, is asleep by
this time. If she calls you 'Joey,' do you call her 'Elsie'? I rather
fancy Elsie as a name. What do you think?"
To all of which the dog, who had found a dry corner, would respond with a
smile and a tail-wag. What? Joey couldn't smile! Make a friend of a
fox-terrier and learn what a genuine, whole-hearted, delighted-to-see-you
grin he will favor you with: he can smile as unmistakably as he can yawn.
If deeper emotions peeped up in Courtenay's soul, he crushed them
resolutely. Men of the sea do not cultivate heroics. They leave
sentiment to those imaginative people who evolve eery visions of a storm
in the smug comfort of suburban villas. When the Kansas lay on the
shoal Courtenay was certain that the ship was lost, or he would never
have dispatched some of his passengers and crew in the only boat
available. He acted to the best of his judgment then; he was acting
similarly now in abandoning the last resource of a raft in order to keep
the vessel on her present course. But, then or now, he paid no heed
whatever to the obvious fact that he and the second engineer, and at
least one of the male passengers, must be the last to quit the ship.
That was the code of all true sailor-men--the women first, then the male
passengers and crew followed by the officers, beginning at the junior in
rank. There could be room for no hesitancy or dispute--it was just a
sailor-like way of doing one's duty, in the simple faith that the
recording angel would enter up the log.
The long wait in the darkness would have broken many a man's nerve, but
Courtenay was not cast in a mold to be either bent or broken by fear.
When his cigar was not in his mouth he whistled, he hummed snatches of
songs, and delivered short lectures to Joey on the absurdity of things in
general, and the special ridiculousness of such a mighty combination of
circumstances centering on one poor ship as had fore-gathered to crush
the Kansas. Ever since he was aroused from sleep by the stopping of
the screw, his mind had dwelt on the unprecedented nature of the
break-down. Even before he discovered its cause he was wondering what
evil chance bad contrived to cripple the engine at such a moment--in the
worst possible place on the map.