Maddon's Rock Read Free Page B

about this guard?”
    Hendrik’s voice answered, “Well, it’s nae more than we expected.”
    “A guard—no. But we expected soldiers, not a Naval Warrant Officer. That might make it awkward. Know anything about this fellow Rankin, Mr. Hendrik?”
    “Aye. I met him in—weel, I met him the other nicht. I’ve an idea that if there’s any deeficulty wi’ him he could be made to see reason. He’s no short o’ cash. If ye like I’ll away and see Kalinsky in the mornin’. It’d be Kalinsky he’d be dealing wi’—they all do. As for the corporal and the other two soldiers, we’ll no have any trouble——”
    And that was all I heard of the conversation for the porthole suddenly closed and the little circle of light was blotted out as it was battened down from inside. I stoodthere for a moment, watching the glowing tip of my cigarette and trying to make sense out of the fragment of conversation I had heard. Hendrik had been speaking to the captain. I realised that. But just what the significance of it was I could not determine.
    Puzzled, I walked slowly back to our quarters. Bert was pacing up and down outside the door. He had his rifle slung on his shoulder and he swung his arms to keep himself warm. His face looked pinched and cold in the light that swung above the engine-room hatches. “Any luck, Corp?” he asked as I came up.
    “About what?” I asked.
    “Why the blankets and ’ammocks. Thort that was wot you’d gawn off ter see aba’t.”
    “Haven’t they been sent up?” I asked.
    “Not a sign of ’em,” he replied.
    “I’ll go down and see Rankin about them,” I said.
    “Good. An’ when yer see ’im, Corp, give ’im my love and tell ’im I’d like ter ring ’is stupid neck. I can just see ’im sticking it fer two long hours a’t in this beastly wind. Ask ’im why we can’t do our guard dooties inside.”
    “All right, Bert,” I said. There was a companionway in the after-deckhousing. I went down this and found myself in a long corridor. It was warm and smelt of engine oil and stale food grease. The only sound in that empty steel-lined corridor was the steady hum of the dynamos. I hesitated and at that moment a door opened and a man in gum-boots went aft. The sound of men’s voices drifted through the lighted doorway. I went down the corridor, knocked and entered. It was the crew’s mess room. Three men were seated at one of the scrubbed deal tables. They took no notice of me. One of them, a Welshman, was saying, “But I tell you, man, he’s not sane. This very morning, it was, up for’ard where the Russians were fixing that plate. The door of Number Two bulkhead was open and I went through to see what was going on. The Captain was there, with Mr. Hendrik. Watching the Russians, they were. And as soon as he sees me, he says, ‘Davies,’ he says, ‘what are you doing here?’ So I tells him I just stepped through tosee what all the racket was about. ‘Well, get out, man,’ he says. And then ’Out, damned spot! Out, I say!’ And with that he starts roaring with laughter. ‘Go on, Davies,’ he says, ‘back to your work, man.’”
    The other two men laughed, and one of them said, “You don’t want to worry about that, mate. He’s always like that, Captain Halsey is. You’re new to the ship. But we bin with him four trips now, ain’t we, Ernie? Shakespeare, Shakespeare, Shakespeare. He’ll stand on the bridge and spout Shakespeare by the hour. And when you pass his cabin, you’ll often hear ’im ranting and raving inside. Ain’t that so, Ernie?”
    The man referred to as Ernie nodded and took his pipe out of his mouth. “Aye, that’s right,” he said. “An’ when you take a message to him up on the bridge you never know whether it’s the ghost of Banquo or one of King Richard’s bastards you’re talking to. Gave me the willies at first. But I got used to it now. And there’s some fine speeches he makes, too. You’ll find half the crew’ve got pocket