The Harris-Ingram Experiment Part 5

Long ago Captain Morgan had learned that wealth is power. His own s.h.i.+p had cost a million or more, and England's millions enabled his government to control the globe. Not only was he keenly alive to the fact that capital and brains guided most human events, but naturally he possessed the instincts of a gentleman, and besides he was a true Briton. His ancestors for generations had followed the sea for a livelihood and fame.

Some had served conspicuously in the navy, and others like himself had spent long lives in the commercial marine.

In Lucille's eyes Captain Morgan was an ideal hero of the sea. He was over six feet in height, and robust of form, weighing not less than 250 pounds. His face was round and bronzed by the exposure of over three hundred ocean pa.s.sages. His closely cropped beard and hair were iron gray, and his mild blue eyes and shapely hands told of inbred qualities.

That he was possessed of rare traits of character, it was easy to discover. Loyalty to the great trusts confided to him, was noticeable in his every movement. "Safety of s.h.i.+p, pa.s.sengers, and cargo," were words often repeated, whether the skies above him were blue or black.

Captain Morgan addressing Mrs. Harris said, "We shall miss very much your husband's presence aboard s.h.i.+p. Nowadays managers of great enterprises ash.o.r.e, involving the use of large amounts of capital, encounter quite as many stormy seas as we of the Atlantic."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Harris, "and the causes of financial disturbances are fully as difficult to divine or control."

"It was fortunate, however, Mrs. Harris," said the captain, "that word reached the steamer in time to intercept the Colonel so that he could return at once and a.s.sume command of his business. Aboard our s.h.i.+p, you must all dismiss every anxiety as to matters at home or on the "Majestic." With your permission, Colonel Harris's family shall be mine for the pa.s.sage. Please command my services at all times."

"Thank you," said Alfonso, and the captain's cordial words, like suns.h.i.+ne, dispelled the clouds.

"Captain," inquired Leo, "do you think we shall have a pleasant voyage?"

"Yes, I hope so, for the sake of those aboard who are making this their first voyage, otherwise we may not have the pleasure of much of their company."

"Captain Morgan, then you really promise a smooth pa.s.sage?" said Lucille.

"Oh no, Miss Harris, we never promise in advance good weather on the ocean. Smooth water for us old sailors is irksome indeed, yet I always consider it very fortunate for our pa.s.sengers, if Old Probabilities grant us a day or two of fair skies as we leave and enter port. With gentle breezes the pa.s.sengers gradually get possession of their 'sea legs' as sailors term it, and later brisk breezes are welcomed."

"Captain, have you a panacea for seasickness?" inquired Mrs. Harris.

"Oh, yes," he replied, "take as vigorous exercise on the s.h.i.+p as is taken ash.o.r.e, eat wisely, observe economy of nerve-force, and be resolved to keep on good terms with Old Neptune. Don't fight the steamer's movements or eccentricities, but yield gracefully to all the boat's motions. In a word, forget entirely that you are aboard s.h.i.+p, and the victory is yours."

"This is Wednesday, Captain, and do you really think you will land us in the Mersey by Monday evening?" Lucille enquired earnestly.

"Monday or Tuesday if all goes well," the captain answered. Captain Morgan drank his coffee, excused himself, and returned to his duty on the bridge.

"What a gallant old sea-dog the captain is," said Mrs. Harris. "We shall feel perfectly safe in his keeping. How cheery he is away from home."

"How do you know he has a home, mother?"

"Perhaps not, my dear, for he seems really married to his s.h.i.+p."

The Harrises and Leo joined the pa.s.sengers who had now left the dining saloon. The light winds had freshened and the skies were overcast and gave promise of showers, if not of a storm. After walking a few times around the promenade deck, most of the pa.s.sengers went below, some to the library, some to the smoking room, and some to their staterooms, perhaps thinking discretion the better part of valor. The steamer's chairs were taken from the deck and only a few persons remained outside. Some of them were clad in warm ulsters. They walked the usual half-hour. Most of these promenaders were men of business who were required to make frequent ocean pa.s.sages. They were as familiar with moistened decks, cloudy skies, and heavy seas as the land-lubbers are with stone pavements and hotel corridors.

CHAPTER V

DISCOMFITURES AT SEA

The green and red lights on the starboard and port sides and the white light on the foremast now burned brightly. The boatswain's shrill whistle furled the sails snugly to every spar, leaving the sailors little time or spirit for their usual song, as barometer-like they too sensed the approaching storm. The s.h.i.+p's watch forward was increased as the wind grew strong, and the weather ahead had become thick and hazy.

The captain quickly left the table when the steward placed in his hand a bit of writing from the first officer, which read, "The barometer is falling rapidly." Captain Morgan and an officer paced the bridge with eyes alert. Heavy clouds of smoke from the triple stacks revealed that a hundred glowing furnaces were being fed with fuel, a.s.sistant engineers were busily inspecting, and oilers were active in lubricating the ponderous engines that every emergency might be promptly met.

Ports were closed and every precaution taken. The anxiety of officers and sailors and the increased agitation of the sea was soon noticed by the s.h.i.+p's gay company. Before ten o'clock most of the pa.s.sengers were glad of the good-night excuse for retiring. The smoking room, however, was crowded with devotees to the weed. Old-timers were busy with cards, or forming pools on the first day's run from Sandy Hook, or speculating as to the time of arrival at Queenstown.

The atmosphere of the room was as thick as the weather outside. It is no wonder that a club man of New York, making his first trip to Europe, inquired of his Philadelphia friend, "Why do Americans smoke so continually?"

He answered, "It is easier to tell why the English drink tea and why Americans drink coffee. But to answer your question, I suppose the mixture of races quickens the flow of blood and produces the intense activities we witness. Besides, the enlarged opportunities offered in a new and growing country present attractive prizes in the commercial, political, social, and religious world. To attain these the Anglo-Saxon blood rushes through arteries and veins like the heated blood in a thoroughbred horse on the last quarter. After these homestretch efforts Americans feel the need often of stimulants, or of a soporific, and this they try to find in a cigar."

"Your views are wrong, I think. One would naturally infer that the use of tobacco shortens life. Let me relate to you an incident.

"I was once in Sandusky, Ohio, and spent an evening at a lecture given by Trask, the great anti-tobacconist. In his discourse he had reached the climax of his argument, proving as he thought that tobacco shortened life, when a well dressed man in the audience rose and said, 'Mr. Trask, will you pardon me if I say a few words?'

"'Oh, yes' said the lecturer, 'give us the facts only.'

"'Well, Mr. Trask, there is living to-day in Castalia, southwest of here, a man nearly a hundred years old and he has been a constant user of tobacco since early childhood.'

"For a moment Mr. Trask stood nonplussed. To gain time for thought he fell back upon the Socratic method, and began asking questions.

'Stranger, won't you stand up again so that the audience can see you?

Thank you! Evidently you are an intelligent citizen and reliable witness.

Did you say you knew the man?'

"'O yes, I have known him for over fifty years.'

"'Did you ever know of his favoring schools or churches by gifts or otherwise?'

"'No,' said the stranger.

"'There,' said Trask to the audience, 'this man's testimony only strengthens what I have been attempting to prove here this evening, that tobacco shortens life. This Castalia centenarian is dead to all the demands of society and humanity, and his corpse should have been buried half a century ago.' So the laugh was on the voluntary witness."

"Hold on, my friend, your Castalia centenarian proves just what I said at the outset, that the use of tobacco prolongs life, but I am half inclined myself to feel that the less tobacco active Americans use, the better."

Then throwing his cigar away, he said good-night and left the smoking room.

Others stacked their cards, smoked cigarettes, and then sought their staterooms, and finally the s.h.i.+p's bell rang out the last patron and announced the midnight hour; the steward was left alone. He had been unusually busy all the evening furnis.h.i.+ng ale, porter, and beer, a few only taking wine. The steward was glad to complete his report of sales for the first day out, and turn off the lights and seek his berth for the night.

The "Majestic" shot past Cape Cod and was plowing her way towards the banks of Newfoundland. The strong winds were westerly and fast increasing to a moderate gale. The north star was hidden and now failed to confirm the accuracy of the s.h.i.+p's compa.s.ses.

The first and fourth officers were pacing the bridge. The latter was glad that the engines were working at full speed, as every stroke of the pistons carried him nearer his pretty cottage in the suburbs of Liverpool. Captain Morgan had dropped asleep on the lounge in his cozy room just back of the wheel. Most of the pa.s.sengers and crew off duty slept soundly, though some were dreaming of wife and children in far away homes, and others of palaces, parks, and castles in foreign countries.

It was difficult for Mrs. Harris to get much rest as the waves das.h.i.+ng against the s.h.i.+p often awakened her, and her thoughts would race with the Cincinnati Express which was swiftly bearing her husband and Gertrude back to Harrisville and perhaps to trouble and poverty. While Mrs. Harris knew that her husband was wealthy, she was constantly troubled with fears lest she and her family should sometime come to want. Her own father had acquired a fortune in Ireland, but changes in the British tariff laws had rendered him penniless, and poverty had driven her mother with seven other children to America.

A rich uncle in Boston enabled her to get a fair education, and the early years of her married life had been full of earnest effort, of economy and heroic struggle, that her husband and family might gain a footing in the world. The comforts of her early childhood in Ireland had given her a keen relish for luxury. The pain inflicted by poverty that followed was severely felt, and now, the pleasures of wealth again were all the more enjoyed.

Mrs. Harris was not a church member, but woman-like she found her lips saying, "G.o.d bless the colonel and my precious children." Then putting her hand over upon Lucille, and satisfied that she was there by her side and asleep, she too became drowsy and finally unconscious. Alfonso and Leo occupied the adjoining stateroom, but both were in dreamland; Alfonso in the art galleries of Holland and Leo in sunny Italy.

Before morning the storm center was moving rapidly down the St. Lawrence Valley, and off the east coast of Maine. Long lines of white-capped waves were das.h.i.+ng after each other like swift platoons in a cavalry charge.

The "Majestic," conscious of an enemy on her flank, sought earnestly to outstrip the winds of aeolus. When Captain Morgan reached the bridge, the sea and sky were most threatening. The first officer said, "Captain, I have never seen the mercury go down so rapidly. We are in for a nasty time of it, I fear."

Early the sailors were scrubbing the s.h.i.+p while the spray helped to wash the decks, and they tightened the fastenings of the life-boats. The firemen too were busy dropping cinders astern. Fires in the cook's galley were lighted, and the steerage pa.s.sengers were aroused for breakfast, but few responded.

Mrs. Harris often tried to dress, but every time she fell back into her berth, saying, "Stewardess, I shall surely die. Isn't the s.h.i.+p going down?"