Hurricane Island. Henry Brereton Marriott Watson
lawyer, and seemed to wait for my dismissal. The solicitor bowed me sharply from the room, for was not his millionaire client in waiting? And I went down the stairs.
It was now past four, and as I came out into the Square I saw before me the little lawyer's clerk who had entered the room and had been called Pye. He was talking amiably to another man, and as I passed smiled at me through his pince-nez.
"You saw Mr. Morland?" he asked in a friendly way.
"Yes," I said, and looked at the stranger. There seemed no necessity to say more.
"It is odd that you should encounter here, gentlemen," said Pye, adjusting his glasses, "and yet I suppose it isn't. Mr. Holgate, this gentleman is the future doctor of the Sea Queen."
"Oh, dear me, it isn't settled," said I, with a laugh.
Pye beamed at me. "I think I know my chief's face," he said. "It's my business to interpret him, particularly when he can't interpret himself."
The other man laughed lazily. He was a man with a big body, and a face round and gross in proportion, heavy-lidded eyes, and an imperturbable expression.
"This is Mr. Holgate, the third officer," said Pye, by way of introduction, and somehow or other we began to walk in the direction of Holborn. When we had threaded the Great Turnstile the little clerk hesitated and swung round. "I was going to drink a glass of wine with Mr. Holgate. Perhaps you would join us, sir?"
"Gladly," said I, for I had made up my mind to take tea before returning to Wapping, and somehow my interview had inspirited me. I took a sanguine view of my chances, for all my words to Pye. Moreover, I have always been interested in my fellow-creatures, and, finally, I was in the mood for a glass of something. Enters this trio, then, into the "Three Tuns" presently, and sits to a table in comfortable chairs, with the clatter of the street falling, like rain, on the senses, and the bright flare of gas among the dark barrels. There was about the place an odour of good-fellowship and of peace that pleased me who had not visited these haunts for years.
Little Pye turned his pince-nez on me as the attendant advanced.
"What'll you have, doctor?" he asked.
I hesitated.
"I suppose it must be port," said I; "port is more palatable and no more noxious in such places than any other wine."
"Any port in a storm, in fact," said the little man, looking at me quizzically.
"For my part–" said Holgate, in his stuffy, fat voice.
"Port, you should say," interposed Pye with brisk wit. He smiled at his smartness and his eyes seemed to challenge me to respond.
"There's nothing to beat spirits—and sound rum for choice, but as they won't have it here, I'll take brandy," continued the third officer.
He lighted a cigar and began to smoke, examining everything within eyeshot attentively but with indifference. I think, except for the first glance he had bestowed upon me, that he had completely ignored my presence.
Little Pye put up his glass. "I drink," said he, "to a prosperous voyage, Mr. Holgate, and to pleasant companions."
"Prosperous voyage," said the third officer wheezily, and I murmured something to the same effect.
"You say the old man's velvet," said Holgate, resuming his puffing.
"Well," said Pye, beaming through his glasses, "I wouldn't go so far as to say it, but he looks it. He looks kid-glove."
"I hate 'em," growled Holgate. "I've seen that kind on the ferry—all airs and aitches, and frosty as a berg."
"Well, of course, it would be much more satisfactory to be sailing under a real Tartar," remarked the little man with mild pleasantry.
Holgate cast him a glance which inquired, but was indifferent. "What's your idea, doctor?" he asked.
"I have none," said I, smiling. "I am much more interested in third officers."
His masklike face relaxed, and he stroked his black moustaches, and took a long pull of his cigar.
"That was very nice of you, doctor," he said, nodding with more cordiality.
Pye drew an apple from his pocket, and carefully bit into it. I don't know why, but it struck me as comical to see him at this schoolboy business, his ears alert, his glasses shining, and his white teeth going to and fro. He reminded me of a squirrel, a fancy to which the little tufts of whiskers by his ears lent themselves. He eyed both of us brightly.
"After all," said the third officer heavily, "it's more important in the end to know your owner, let alone his travelling with you. I wouldn't give two straws for the old man, velvet or iron, so long as I could get the lug of my owner."
"You'll find them both all right," said Pye reassuringly. "Captain Day I have seen and Mr. Morland I know."
"He is very rich?" I asked.
"I'll trouble you for a two and a half commission on it," said the clerk cheerfully, "and then I'd live like a fighting-cock. At least, that's what we all believe. There's no knowing."
The shadows of the November afternoon had gathered in the streets without, and a thin scant rain was flying. Into the area of warmth and brightness entered more customers, and shook the water from the umbrellas. They stood at the bar and drank and talked noisily. Round about us in the loom of the great barrels the shadows lurched from the wagging gas-flames. The clerk had finished his apple.
"We will have another," said Holgate.
"This is mine," I said. He shook his head. I protested.
"Doctor, you confess you live in doubt," he said, "whereas I have my appointment in my pocket. Plainly it is my right."
"I think that's a fair argument, doctor," said Pye.
"I am in both your debt," said I lightly. "For company and wine."
"I'm sure we shall owe you both many a time yet," said the third officer civilly.
At the table near us two men had sat and were talking even as we, but one had a half-penny paper, and turned the flimsy thing about, I fancy in search of racing news.
"You see there is no doubt about you–," began Pye amiably, and suddenly dropped his sentence.
In the unexpected silence I caught some words from the other table.
"Well, it's good pluck of him if he wants to marry her. What's the odds if he is a Prince? Live and let live, I say."
Pye's little squirrel head turned round and he stared for a moment at the speaker, then it came back again.
"You are uncommonly polite," said Holgate irritably.
"I'm sorry. I thought I recognised that voice," said the little man sweetly. "One gets echoes everywhere. I was going to say we took you for granted, doctor."
"It's good of you," said I. "But will Mr. Morland?"
"I can practically answer for my employer; I can't say anything about Mr. Morland, who has, however, authorised us to appoint."
"The yacht is from Hamburg?" said I.
"I believe so," said he.
"And its destination?"
"That knowledge is quite out of my province," said the squirrel briefly.
When one came to think of it, it was almost a snub, and I had never any patience for these legal silences. As he shut his jaws he looked a man who could keep a secret, and knew his own mind. Yet he had been so easily familiar that I flushed with resentment. Confound these little professional tricks and solemnities! We were meeting on another ground than lawyer and client.
"I dare say it will be within the cabin-boy's province to-morrow," said I, somewhat sharply.
"Very likely," he assented, and Holgate, who had turned at my tone, exchanged a glance with him.
"Mr. Pye is fond of keeping his own counsel," said the third officer in his slow voice, "and I'm not sure he isn't right, being a lawyer."
"But he isn't a lawyer here," I protested.
Pye