Tessa. Becke Louis
with Mr. Carr. His presence on board is a continual source of trouble, and I shall be glad to have authority from you to dismiss him. Captain Hendry bears me out in these statements, and herewith attaches his signature to mine.
“‘I am, dear Sir,
“‘Yours very obediently,
“‘Samuel Chard, supercargo.
“‘Louis Hendry, master. “‘Messrs. Hillingdon & McFreeland,
“‘Sydney.’”
“What do you think of that, Carr?” “It doesn’t astonish me, Oliver, for Chard, with all his seeming bonhomie, is as big a black-guard as Hendry. And there is a certain amount of truth in his letter—I did say that the firm of Hillingdon and McFreeland were guilty of shady and illegal practices, and that the High Commissioner in Fiji would bring them up with a round turn some day. But, as you know, all the rest is false—downright lies.”
The mate slapped him on the shoulder. “Lies! Of course they are! Now just listen to what I have written in my own private log.”
He stepped along to the deck-house, entered his cabin, and came back with the private log aforesaid.
“Here, listen to this:—
“‘Vavau, Tonga Islands, May 3, 1889.—This evening Captain Hendry and Mr. Chard, the supercargo, came on board at six o’clock, accompanied by several white men and a number of loose Samoan women. They were all more or less under the influence of drink. As is usual, our native crew were seated on the fore-hatch, holding their evening service, when Mr. Chard went for’ard, and with considerable foul language desired them to stop their damned psalm-singing. He then offered them two bottles of Hollands gin. The native seamen refused to accept the liquor, whereupon Mr. Chard struck one of them and knocked him down. Then Captain Hendry, who was much the worse for drink, came for’ard, and calling on me to follow and assist him, attacked the crew, who were veryexcited (but offered no violence), with an iron belayingpin. He stunned three of them before the second mate, the chief engineer, and myself could restrain him, and he threatened to shoot what he called “the ringleaders of a mutiny.” He had a revolver belted round his waist. The native crew then came aft and made a complaint to. Mr. Harvey Carr, the trader, who was lying ill with fever in his berth. He came on deck, and speaking in Samoan to the crew and to the women who had been brought on board by Captain Hendry and the supercargo, urged the women to go on shore, as it was Sunday. This they at once did, and getting into a canoe, paddled away. Thereupon Captain Hendry, Mr. Sam Chard, and the white traders became very insulting to Mr. Carr, who, although he was so ill, kept his temper, until Mr. Chard called him a “missionary crawler.” This expression made Mr. Carr lose control of himself, and he used very strong language to Captain Hendry and the supercargo upon the gross impropriety of their conduct. He certainly used expressions that he should not have employed, but under the circumstances, and bearing in mind the fact that the native crew were ready for mutiny, and that mutiny was only averted by Mr. Carr’s influence over the native crew, I and my fellow officers, whose names are attached, desire to record the facts of the case. “‘Then Captain Hendry and Mr. Sam Chard used very foul language to Mr. Carr, who again lost his temper and called the former a damned stock-fish eating Dutchman, who had no right to sail under British colours as an Englishman, and ought to be kicked off the deck of a British ship. He (Mr. Carr) then, being greatly excited, added that Captain Hendry, being a married man with a large family, was little better than a brute beast in his mode of life, else he would not have brought half a dozen native harlots on board—women whose very presence insulted even his native crew. Mr. Chard then advanced towards Mr. Carr in a threatening manner, whereupon the whole native crew, headed by a white stoker named Cleaver, rushed the after-deck, seized Captain Hendry and Mr. Chard, and threw them below into the saloon. “‘Mr. Carr then addressed the crew in their own several languages, and explained to them the danger of laying hands upon the captain or an officer of the ship; also he explained to them his own position as a passenger. They listened to him quietly, and promised to follow his directions. At six o’clock Captain Hendry and Mr. Sam Chard came on deck, and in my presence and in that of the second officer and Felix Latour, the steward, apologised to Mr. Carr. Mr. Carr, who was very exhausted with fever, shook hands with them both, and the matter has ended. I have briefly entered these occurrences in the ship’s log, which Captain Hendry refuses to sign. But this statement of mine is signed as follows:—
“‘James Oliver, Chief Officer.
“‘Jos. Atkins, Second Officer.
“‘Felix Latour, Steward.
“‘Tom Cleaver, Fireman.”
The trader held out his hand, “Thank you, Oliver. But I’m afraid that the firm of Hillingdon and McFreeland will be glad to get rid of a man like me. I’m not the sort of trader they want. I took service with them under the impression that they were straight people. They are not—they are simply unmitigated sweeps. Hillingdon, with his solemn, stone-jug-like face, I know to be a most infernal rogue. He fakes the firm’s accounts to the detriment of the London people who are paying the piper, and who are really the firm. As for Sam Chard and this measly, sneaking, Danish skipper, they are merely minor thieves. But I didn’t do so badly with them, did I, Oliver?”
The mate laughed loudly. “No, indeed. You settled them that time. But you must be careful. Hendry especially is a dangerous man. I believe that he wouldn’t stick at murder if it could be done without any fear of detection. And he hates you like poison. Chard, too, is a scoundrel, but wouldn’t do anything worse than he has done, which is bad enough, for the fat blackguard always keeps up the appearance of a jolly, good-natured fellow. But be careful of Hendry. Don’t lean on the rail on a dark night when he’s on deck. He’d give you a hoist overboard in a second if you gave him a chance and no one was about.”
“I’ll watch him, Oliver. And when I get better, I’ll take it out of him. But I’m not going to let him and Chard drive me out of the ship. I am under a two years’ engagement to this rascally firm, and have only three more months to put in. I’ll settle in the Carolines, and start trading there on my own account. I’m sick of this filthy old tub.”
“So is Morrison, and so am I,” said the mate, as he rose to go for’ard again. “Hallo, here is the skipper coming at last.”
A quarter of an hour later the captain’s boat, came alongside, and Hendry and his supercargo came aft under the awning, and with much solicitude asked Carr how he was feeling. He replied civilly to their inquiries, but excused himself when Chard asked him to have a small bottle of lager. They were accompanied by two respectable-looking white men, who were resident traders on Drummond’s Island.
“I have some news for you, Mr. Carr,” said the supercargo genially; “there’s an old friend of yours here, a trader named Remington.”
Carr raised himself with an expression of pleasure lighting up in his worn, thin face. “Old Jack Remington! Where is he? I shall be glad to see him again.”
“He’ll be aboard here in another hour. He has a station at the north end of the island. The moment we mentioned your name he said he would come and see you. His daughter is going on to the Carolines with us, and he has just now gone off to his station to bring her on board, as the captain wants to get away at daylight in the morning.” Then with a pleasant nod he moved his chair some little distance away, and began talking business with the two traders.
Carr, lying on his side with half-closed eyes, apparently was trying to sleep, in reality he was studying the supercargo’s face. It was a handsome, “taking” sort of face, rather full and a bit coarse perhaps, deeply browned by tropic suns, and lit up by a pair of jet black eyes, which, when the possessor was in a good temper and laughed, seemed to dance in unison. Yet they were eyes that in a moment could narrow and show an ugly gleam, that boded ill for the object of their owner’s resentment. His curly hair and beard were jet black also, save here and there where they were streaked with grey, and his figure, stout, but close and well-knit together, showed him to be a man of great strength and activity.
From the face of the supercargo Carr let his glance light upon the figure of Captain Louis Hendry, who was