“No, Fred never said that ‘money was the root of all evil,’ you thick-head,” returned Duffy; “he said it was the love of money. Put that in your pipe and smoke it—or rather, in your glass an’ drink it, for that’s the way to get it clearer in your fuddled brain.”
“Hold on, boys; you’re forgettin’ my yarn,” interposed Lockley at this point, for he saw that Stubley was beginning to lose temper. “Well, you must know it was about six years ago—I was little more than a big lad at the time, on board the Saucy Jane, Black Thomson bein’ the skipper. You’ve heard o’ Black Thomson, that used to be so cruel to the boys when he was in liquor, which was pretty nigh always, for it would be hard to say when he wasn’t in liquor? He tried it on wi’ me when I first went aboard, but I was too—well, well, poor fellow, I’ll say nothin’ against him, for he’s gone now.”
“Fred Martin was there at the time, an’ it was wonderful what a hold Fred had over that old sinner. None of us could understand it, for Fred never tried to curry favour with him, an’ once or twice I heard him when he thought nobody was near, givin’ advice to Black Thomson about drink, in his quiet earnest way, that made me expect to see the skipper knock him down. But he didn’t. He took it well—only he didn’t take his advice, but kep’ on drinkin’ harder than ever. Whenever a coper came in sight at that time Thomson was sure to have the boat over the side an’ pay him a visit.
“Well, about this time o’ the year there came one night a most tremendous gale, wi’ thick snow, from the nor’ard. It was all we could do to make out anything twenty fathom ahead of us. The skipper he was lyin’ drunk down below. We was close reefed and laying to with the foresail a-weather, lookin’ out anxiously, for, the fleet bein’ all round and the snow thick, our chances o’ runnin’ foul o’ suthin’ was considerable. When we took in the last reef we could hardly stand to do it, the wind was so strong—an’ wasn’t it freezin’, too! Sharp enough a’most to freeze the nose off your face.
“About midnight the wind began to shift about and came in squalls so hard that we could scarcely stand, so we took in the jib and mizzen, and lay to under the foresail. Of course the hatchways was battened down and tarpaulined, for the seas that came aboard was fearful. When I was standin’ there, expectin’ every moment that we should founder, a sea came and swept Fred Martin overboard. Of course we could do nothing for him—we could only hold on for our lives; but the very next sea washed him right on deck again. He never gave a cry, but I heard him say ‘Praise the Lord!’ in his own quiet way when he laid hold o’ the starboard shrouds beside me.
“Just then another sea came aboard an’ a’most knocked the senses out o’ me. At the same moment I heard a tremendous crash, an’ saw the mast go by the board. What happened after that I never could rightly understand. I grabbed at something—it felt like a bit of plank—and held on tight, you may be sure, for the cold had by that time got such a hold o’ me that I knew if I let go I would go down like a stone. I had scarce got hold of it when I was seized round the neck by something behind me an’ a’most choked.
“I couldn’t look round to see what it was, but I could see a great black object coming straight at me. I knew well it was a smack, an’ gave a roar that might have done credit to a young walrus. The smack seemed to sheer off a bit, an’ I heard a voice shout, ‘Starboard hard! I’ve got him,’ an’ I got a blow on my cocoanut that well-nigh cracked it. At the same time a boat-hook caught my coat collar an’ held on. In a few seconds more I was hauled on board of the Cherub by Manx Bradley, an’ the feller that was clingin’ to my neck like a young lobster was Fred Martin. The Saucy Jane went to the bottom that night.”
“An’ Black Thomson—did he go down with her?” asked Duffy.
“Ay, that was the end of him and all the rest of the crew. The fleet lost five smacks that night.”
“Admiral’s a-signallin’, sir,” said one of the watch on deck, putting his head down the hatch at that moment.