By this time they had reached the outfitter’s, where the captain saw Jacob duly rigged out and furnished with all things needful for the voyage. They had left the shop and were on their way to the docks, when a tall sailor-looking man crossed over to them. His face was bronzed from exposure, but was careworn and sad, and bore unmistakable marks of free indulgence in strong drinks.
“Merryweather, how are you, my friend?” he cried, coming up and shaking the captain warmly by the hand.
“Ah, Thomson, is that you?” said the other, returning the grasp. “I was very sorry indeed to hear of your misfortune.”
“A bad business—a shocking business,” said his friend, shaking his head despondingly. “Not a spar saved. Three poor fellows drowned. And all my papers and goods gone to the bottom.”
“Yes, I heard something of it, and I was truly grieved. How did it happen?”
“Why, I’ll tell you how it was. I don’t know what it is, Merryweather, but you’re a very lucky fellow. Some men seem born to luck: it hasn’t been so with me. It’s all gone wrong ever since I left Australia. We’d fair weather and a good run till we were fairly round the Horn; but one forenoon the glass began to fall, and I saw there was heavy weather coming. After a bit it came on to blow a regular gale. The sea got up in no time, and I had to order all hands up to reef topsails. We were rather short-handed, for I could hardly get men when I started, for love or money. Well, would you believe it?—half a dozen of the fellows were below so drunk that they couldn’t stand.”
“Ah, I feared,” said Captain Merryweather, “that the drink had something to do with your troubles. But how did they manage to get so tipsy?”
“Oh, they contrived to get at one of the spirit-casks. They bored a hole in it with a gimlet, and sucked the rum out through a straw. There was nothing for it but to send up the steward, and Jim, my cabin-boy, along with the others who were on deck. But poor Jim was but a clumsy hand at it; and as they were lying out on the yard, the poor fellow lost his hold, and was gone in a moment. I never caught one look at him after he fell. Ay, but that wasn’t all. About a week after, I was wanting the steward one morning to fetch me something out of the lazarette; so I called him over and over again. He came at last, but so tipsy that I could make nothing of him; and I had to start him off to the steerage, and take on another man in his place. He’d been helping himself to the spirits. It was very vexing, you’ll allow; for he was quite a handy chap, and I got on very poorly afterwards without him. I don’t know how you manage, but you seem always to get steady men.”
“Yes,” said Captain Merryweather; “because I neither take the drink myself nor have it on board.”
“Ay, but I can never get on without my glass of grog,” said the other.