On the other hand, his devotion to the serpent, a poisonous six feet of willow-green relieved by the satin-white ribbon of its belly, was greater than before, and the venom of his regard for the second mate, who had dared toss the reptile’s basket overboard, was disquieting to observe.
The thing had happened in a flash that gave Allister no more than a moment for reflection before the action that had bound him with inseverable fetters to the destinies of Ssu Yin. The second mate, who was Irish, with a soul fed upon belief in banshees and leprechauns and the traditions of St. Patrick, had chafed bitterly at the captain’s indifference toward the Chinaman’s obnoxious galley-pet.
His irritation had grown steadily since the third day out from Panama, when the reptile’s presence on board had been discovered. The captain was one of those rare humans in whom a snake breeds no particular revulsion; he merely winked at Ssu Yin’s vagary, stipulating, as an afterthought, that the serpent should be tied by the neck and at all times safely confined to its bamboo cage.
The mate’s displeasure grew into agitation, and then into a saturnine fear. Ssu Yin’s notion that the serpent was animated by the spirit of his dead wife, a creature of frail morals whose fate it had been to be slain in an act of infidelity, reduced the mate to paroxysms of superstitious rage. A suggestion of insanity blazed from his eyes, and he vented his irritation upon the crew in a variety of diabolical mistreatment. Stealthily he plotted the serpent’s destruction.
He had long to wait, for Ssu Yin was rarely beyond sight of his somnolent pet. But one day, growing reckless from the excess of his somewhat alcoholic fear, the mate seized the bamboo cage, well beyond reach of its occupant’s fangs, lifted it brusquely through the window of the cook’s galley—from under the very eyes of Ssu Yin—and gave it a triumphant heave overboard.
With a yell that seemed to supply added impulse to his flying heels and to stiffen his queue into a rigid horizontal, Ssu Yin darted from the galley and flung himself after his ophidian treasure.
Allister turned automatically toward a life boat, but the mate thrust him back. A fanatical cruelty colored the leer in the man’s face as he watched Ssu Yin bobbing helplessly some yards from the bamboo cage, quite evidently unable to swim.
“Aren’t you going to launch that lifeboat?” Allister bawled at him.
The mate spat over the rail, with a sullen negation.