End of the Tether

up quite close he sai

alley? Is it true you’r

ssed at once his approbation of such an extremely sensible proceeding. He had got out of his trap to stretch h

t say; had only noticed

manded the renowned Condor, Eliott had charge of the nearly as famous Ringdove for the same owners; and when the appointment of Master-Attendant was created, Whalley would have been the only other serious candidate. But Captain Whalley, then in the prime of life, was resolved to serve no one but his own auspicious Fortune. Far away, tending his hot irons, he was glad to hear

houghts of heaven into the hours of ease, presented a closed Gothic portal to the light and glory of the west. The glas

ht to do next, Whalley,” gro

el

live lord out here when Sir

rd of the right sort should not do as well as anyo

or a lord,” he growled in short sentences. “Look at the changes in

ttendant’s steam-launch to visit the harbor improvements. Before that he had “most obligingly” gone out in person to pick out a good berth for the ducal yacht. Afterwards he had an invitation t

to dip into the milk of his mustache. The place ran itself; it was fit for any lord; it gave no trouble except in its Marine department — in its Marine department he repeated twice, and after a heavy snort began to relate h

grow more accentuated with the increasing irritation of his voice. “Place’s full of them. Twice as many men as there

ply downwards, seemed ready to burst the pockets of

nt word for Hamilton — the worst loafer of them all — and just made him go. Threatened to instruct the steward of the Sailors’ Home to have him turned out neck and crop. He did not think the berth was good enough — if — you — please. ‘I’ve your little records by me,’ said I. ‘You came ashore here eighteen months ago, and you haven’t done six months’ work since. You are i

,” Captain Whalley said almost invo

nce he cast a sidelong upward glance at his companion. But Captain Whalley was smiling austerely straight before him, with a carriage of the head inconceivable in a penniless man — and he became reassured. Impossible. Could not have lost everything. That ship had been only a hobby of his. And the reflection that a man who h

would be to die at the oar,” Ca

ed by this time of the whole sho

e y

uld be no better than poverty, anyhow; still, it was the only thing between him and the workhouse. And he had a family. Three girls, as Whalley knew.

ow?” asked Captain Whalley with a

st it. Lawn-tennis and silly nov

s too selfish to think of making a good woman happy. Extreme indigence stared him in the face with all that crowd to keep at home. He had cherished the idea of building himself a little house in the country — in Surrey — to end h

self, Harry. Girls are the ver

ptain Whalley pronounced slowly,

ar this. Uncommonly glad. He rememb

ing out carelessly, as

was p

of carriages

at the head of a Burmah pony harnessed to a varnished two-wheel cart; and the whole thing waiting by the curb seemed no bigger than a child’s toy forgotten under the soaring trees. Captain Eliott waddled up to it and made as if to clamber in, b

l had ever troubled Ned Eliott; and gradually he seemed to detect deep in, as if wrapped up in the gross wheezy rumble, something of the clear hearty voice of the young captain of the Ringdove. He wondered if he too had changed to the same extent; and it seemed to him that the voice of his old chum had not changed so very much — that the man was the same. Not a bad fellow the pleasant, jolly Ned Eliott, friendly, well up to his business — and always a bit of a humbug. He remembered how he used to amuse his poor

officer had been pitchforked into the appointment — a man that would understand nothing and care less. That steamer was a coasting craft having a steady trade connection as far north as Tenasserim; but the trouble was she co

ship?” Captain Whalley int

eamer. Her owner has been in my off

” asked Whalley in

r-Attendant scornfully; “but if so, it’s just skin

o is he

engineer of her.

ey said thoughtfully.

of row both with his skipper and his chief. Anyway, they seemed jolly glad to get rid of him at all costs. Clearly a mutinous sort of chap. Well, he remained out here, a perfect nuisance, eve

The Master-Attendant’s voice vibrated dully with hoarse emphasis. The man actually had the luck to win the second prize in the Man

but then he went off his balance all at once: came bouncing into the Marine Office on some transfer business, with his hat hanging over his left eye and switching a little cane in his hand, and told each one of the clerks separately that “Nobody could put him out now. It was his turn. There was no one over him on earth, and there never would be either.” He swaggered and strutted between the desks, talking at the top of his voice, and trembling like a leaf all the while, so that the current business of th

ks in the water ready to snap up anything you let drop. And then the high old times were over for good; for years the Sofala had made no more, he judged, than a fair living. Captain Eliott looked upon it as his duty in every way to assist an English ship to hold her own; and it stood to reason that if for want of a captain the Sofala began to miss her trips she would very soon lose her trade. There was the quandary. The man was too impracticable. “Too much of a beggar on horseback from the first,” he explained. “Seemed to grow worse as the time went on. In the last three years he’s run through eleven skippe

t emitted a t

ir stuff lying about for a ship that does not turn up when she’s expected. It’s a bad lookout for him. He swears he will shut himself on board and starve to death in his cabin rather than sell her — even

bit of money though,” obser

ed out his purple chee

arry. Not — a —

wly, looked down on the ground without a word, he tapped

ttery has been

fellow Massy had been bitten by it like the rest of them from the first; but after winning once he seemed to have persuaded himself he had only to try again to get another big prize. He had taken

out in the morning and having a row with the new man in the evening. What was wanted for him was a master with a couple of hundred or so to take an interest in the ship on proper conditions. You don’t discharge a man for no fault, only because of the fun of telling him to pack up his traps and go ashore, when you know that in that case you are bound to buy back his share. On the o

all over, and his hand, arrested in the act of stroking, gr

l me to go and get a partner!” . . . The fellow had presumed to stamp with rage on the floor of the private office. Where was he going to get a partner? Was he being taken for a fool? Not a single one of that contemptible lot ashore at the “Home” had twopence in his pocket to bless himself with. The very native curs in the bazaar knew that much. .

as out of breath with indignation;

inner — yarning with you her

t on earth Captain Whalley could have been doing with himself of late. They had had no sight of

n eart

to be smiling to hims

s big,” he s

far, a long way from the seashore, across the stretches of grass, through the long ranges of trees, came faintly the toot — toot — too

Master-Attendant, “since these Germans came along sho

wayfarer, the buried lineaments of the features belonging to the young captain of the Condor. Good fellow — Harry Whalley — never very talkative. You never knew what he was up to — a bit too off-hand with people of conse

drone, “that of all the people on it there seems only you and I

ly that Captain Whalley, unstirring and without a word, seemed to be awaiting something — p

known — the ships we’ve sailed — a

skipped out of the way. Ca

od-