The Story of a Life

by J. Breckenridge Ellis

CHAPTER IX.

THE LONG VOYAGE.

The long voyage was made on the Oriental, Captain Myles. Mrs. Carr was the only lady who had taken first-class passage. There was a rich young man on board, who had been put under the care of a Scot of mature years; the young man was peculiarly susceptible to the temptation of strong drink, but the Captain reassured his sisters with the declaration that there would be no drinking aboard his vessel! The young man wished to visit Australia, one of the few countries he had never seen, and Duncan, the Scot, had undertaken his charge that he, too, might have the treat of foreign travel.

England had not faded from sight before the corks were flying.

Mrs. Carr found herself associated with a class of men who were far from corresponding to the degree of their tickets. She felt the need of woman's society, since her husband was the only man present who possessed that refinement and moral instinct which had been the breath of her life. She was unable to hide her disapproval of the drunken orgies which the officers of the crew shared, and it was particularly distressing to her to witness the deliberate ensnarement of the rich young man, the evident scheme to make him drink that he might be fleeced at the card-game.

She and her husband put their sentiments into words of remonstrance, which resulted in the Captain's making slighting remarks, as they sat at table. He took a spiteful pleasure in boasting in their presence that he wouldn't employ a "teetotaler on his ship."

The first Sunday out Mr. Carr was asked to conduct the religious services. He read the First Psalm and made remarks relative to the godly and ungodly. Captain Myles was enraged. "I supposed we would have the Church of England Service," he said at the conclusion; "we will have it after this; I will read it, myself." And so he did, when he was not too drunk; in that case, he had the ship's physician read it.

Mrs. Carr sought relief in the association of the other women on board, but this was peremptorily stopped. "If she wants to keep company with second-class people," said the Captain with a sneer, "let her buy a second-class ticket."

The ship had not been many days from the British Isles before the crew was almost completely demoralized. Drinking, gaming, coarse songs marked the hours of the night. The sailors were at the mercy of the winds. The vessel drifted over to the coast of Africa. It was becalmed two weeks under the intolerable heat of the sun's vertical rays, while not a breath of air came to relieve the hot glare of the Equator.

One day the Captain exclaimed with the air of one who has made a terrible decision, "If we don't get wind to-morrow, I will jump overboard!" The morrow came, and there was no wind. Of course the threat of the Captain resulted in nothing more dangerous than a cooling bath in the peaceful waters, but the effect of his words, and of his sudden leap from the deck, were hard upon sensitive nerves.