Chapter XLV
And what has happened to Mr. Pike remains a mystery. For that matter, what has happened to the second mate? In the past three days we have by our eyes taken the census of the mutineers. Every man has been seen by us with the sole exception of Mr. Mellaire, or Sidney Waltham, as I assume I must correctly name him. He has not appeared--does not appear; and we can only speculate and conjecture.
In the past three days various interesting things have taken place. Margaret stands watch and watch with me, day and night, the clock around; for there is no one of our retainers to whom we can entrust the responsibility of a watch. Though mutiny obtains and we are besieged in the high place, the weather is so mild and there is so little call on our men that they have grown careless and sleep aft of the chart-house when it is their watch on deck. Nothing ever happens, and, like true sailors, they wax fat and lazy. Even have I found Louis, the steward, and Wada guilty of cat-napping. In fact, the training-ship boy, Henry, is the only one who has never lapsed.
Oh, yes, and I gave Tom Spink a thrashing yesterday. Since the
disappearance of the mate he had had little faith in me, and had been
showing vague signs of insolence and insubordination. Both Margaret and
I had noted it independently. Day before yesterday we talked it over.
"He is a good sailor, but weak," she said. "If we let him go on, he will
infect the rest."
"Very well, I'll take him in hand," I announced valorously.
"You will have to," she encouraged. "Be hard. Be hard. You must be
hard."
Those who sit in the high places must be hard, yet have I discovered that
it is hard to be hard. For instance, easy enough was it to drop Steve
Roberts as he was in the act of shooting at me. Yet it is most difficult
to be hard with a chuckle-headed retainer like Tom Spink--especially when
he continually fails by a shade to give sufficient provocation. For
twenty-four hours after my talk with Margaret I was on pins and needles
to have it out with him, yet rather than have had it out with him I
should have preferred to see the poop rushed by the gang from the other
side.
Not in a day can the tyro learn to employ the snarling immediacy of
mastery of Mr. Pike, nor the reposeful, voiceless mastery of a Captain
West. Truly, the situation was embarrassing. I was not trained in the
handling of men, and Tom Spink knew it in his chuckle-headed way. Also, in his chuckle-headed way, he was dispirited by the loss of the mate. Fearing the mate, nevertheless he had depended on the mate to fetch him through with a whole skin, or at least alive. On me he has no dependence. What chance had the gentleman passenger and the captain's daughter against the gang for'ard? So he must have reasoned, and, so reasoning, become despairing and desperate.
After Margaret had told me to be hard I watched Tom Spink with an eagle
eye, and he must have sensed my attitude, for he carefully forebore from
overstepping, while all the time he palpitated just on the edge of
overstepping. Yes, and it was clear that Buckwheat was watching to learn
the outcome of this veiled refractoriness. For that matter, the
situation was not being missed by our keen-eyed Asiatics, and I know that
I caught Louis several times verging on the offence of offering me
advice. But he knew his place and managed to keep his tongue between his
teeth.
At last, yesterday, while I held the watch, Tom Spink was guilty of
spitting tobacco juice on the deck.
Now it must be understood that such an act is as grave an offence of the
sea as blasphemy is of the Church.
It was Margaret who came to where I was stationed by the jiggermast and
told me what had occurred; and it was she who took my rifle and relieved
me so that I could go aft.
There was the offensive spot, and there was Tom Spink, his cheek bulging
with a quid.
"Here, you, get a swab and mop that up," I commanded in my harshest
manner.