Mrs. Lock had two small children with her, and it pleased the fancy of Mrs. Painter to say that, in her opinion, the paternity of the offspring would have been better established if the commodore had offered marriage a few years earlier. Mrs. Painter put it even more forcefully than this. At the deadly insult Mrs. Lock broke out in impassioned accents:
“What you think? That vile hussy of a Painter woman, she say me no Commodore Lock’s wife. Me lose my—what you call it—wedding ’tifcate on board ship, so me no have proof now—but when we come to Bombay, my commodore he kicks dirty little Painter out of the service, and me get ten thousand rupees of defamation damage. That Painter woman’s father am a common, dirty boatman!”
At this Mrs. Painter, with lofty disdain, let fall the remark: “Behold the she-devil and her two little imps!”
The sailors felt so little respect for the commodore’s wife that one of them coarsely observed, within her hearing:
“If we run short of them penguins’ eggs, Bill, and there ain’t nothin’ else to eat, we’ll pop the old girl’s young ’uns into the pot for a bit of broth.”
This was reported to Captain Greig by the explosive Mrs. Lock, who declared that the sailors had called her names much stronger than “old girl.” The chivalrous commander was resolved that no man of his crew should insult a woman and go unpunished, wherefore he mustered the seamen loyal to him, and they maintained order while the boatswain gave the chief offender fifty lashes on the bare back with a rope’s-end. The dreary exile was further enlivened by the discovery that Lieutenant Painter’s tent had been robbed of jewelry and other valuables. A formal trial was held, with young Alexander Greig as judge and a water-cask as the official bench. A sailor named Joseph Fowler was accused of the theft, and Mrs. Lock surged into the proceedings by announcing that, in her opinion, the relations of Mrs. Painter and this common sailorman had been a public scandal.
“Very ladylike of you, I’m sure, Mrs. Lock,” cried Mrs. Painter, “but what could a person expect?”
Such episodes as these were trivial when compared with the tragic problem of survival and escape from Inaccessible Island. Exploring parties had climbed the lofty peak, and in clear weather were able to discern the snow-clad summit of the larger island of Tristan, only fifteen miles distant, which was known to be inhabited. It might have been a thousand miles away, however, for the lack of tools and material had discouraged any efforts to build a boat. In a mood of despair a flagstaff was set up on the southwestern promontory, which faced the open ocean, and a bottle tied to it which contained this message:
On the N. W. side of this island are the remaining part of the crew and passengers of the Blenden Hall, wrecked 23rd July, 1821. Should this fall into the hands of the humane, we trust, by the assistance of God, they will do all in their power to relieve us, and the prayers of many unfortunate sufferers will always be for them.
Signed,
Alexander Greig, Commander.