"Your first wife?" repeated the mate. "Say, how many have you had?"
"I couldna tell ye off-hand, mon. Ye see, the saircumstances in mony cases were compleecated, if ye ken me," answered McPhulach thoughtfully. "Me fairst, now ..."
Mr. Dykes listened for some time to the engineer's account of his matrimonial complications and then turned in. For the first time since leaving Singapore, he closed his eyes without an uneasy suspicion that he and the rest of the officers might have their throats cut before the morning. Indeed, the crew might henceforward have served as a model for the most exacting skipper that ever sailed the seas. The men could not have turned out for their respective watches with more promptitude had they been aboard a battleship, and their language on such occasions was such that even the boatswain's mate had no cause for complaint. And they were cheerful, laboriously cheerful. Whenever Calamity happened to approach a man, that man would start to hum a tune as if his life depended on it; he'd smile if he had a ten-thousand-horsepower toothache; everybody was happy, and only the ship's cat led a dog's life.
"It's a bloomin' wonder," said the second-mate to Mr. Dykes, "that the old man don't put up a blighted maypole and make all us perishers dance round it."
For two days the Hawk kept the smoke-trail of the German gunboat in view, but made no attempt to overhaul her. Every one agreed that the Hawk, with her four-inch guns, could sink the German. They were puzzled, therefore, as to the Captain's seeming reluctance to engage her. But never a word of wonder reached Calamity, never a hint or a question from his officers; every one was certain that he knew his business, or, if they weren't, carefully kept it to themselves. And the Captain himself vouchsafed no explanation.
On the third morning the look-out reported that the gunboat was chasing a large steamer. Immediately afterwards the men, even those who were not on watch, came tumbling up on deck, in the hope that at last they were going to sniff the promised booty. But not a word was spoken, not a man so much as glanced at the bridge where the skipper stood with his glasses focussed on the chase. They were patiently cheerful.
Presently there came the faint echo of a shot and the steamer lay-to, apparently waiting for the pirates to board her. At her stern fluttered the red ensign of the British Mercantile Marine.
The Hawk had slowed down to quarter speed, and Calamity, through his glasses, continued to watch events. In a remarkably short space of time the Germans transferred a portion of the cargo, whatever it might be, to their own vessel, after which the steamer was allowed to pursue her way. One thing seemed clear, which was that the Germans cared less for sinking enemy ships than for laying hands on the more valuable and portable articles of cargo they happened to carry. The gunboat, having captured and dismissed her prey, continued on her course, and so also did the Hawk.
Calamity, no doubt, had fully developed his plans, but he appeared, also, to have developed a very bad memory. For the instructions accompanying his commission contained, among numerous other clauses, one which laid it down that "if any ship or vessel belonging to us or our subjects, shall be found in distress by being in fight, set upon, or taken by the enemy ... the commanders, officers, and company of such merchant ships as shall have Letters of Marque shall use their best endeavours to give aid and succour to all such ship and ships...."
Which, of course, for reasons known only to himself, the Captain of the Hawk had not done, nor attempted to do.