"S.S. West Barbican. To-day, in radio communication with nil1. To-morrow, radio communication expected with nil."
The notice was painted with the exception of the two nils, which were written in chalk. Placed for the convenience of passengers wishing to send off private wireless2 messages, it duly recorded what ships and shore stations were within radio range. In her present position in the South Atlantic she was too far away to dispatch or pick up messages from Cape3 Town, the radius4 of her wireless being limited to 240 miles by day and almost thrice that distance by night.
Peter had overhauled5 the set, and was taking the opportunity of writing home. With his white patrol-coat unbuttoned and his solar topee perched on the back of his head, he was making the best of things in spite of the terrific heat and the attentions of numerous cockroaches6.
There were thousands of these insects all over the ship, ranging in size from an eighth of an inch to nearly three inches in length. Whilst the West Barbican was in home waters their presence was invisible. They kept to the dark and inaccessible7 parts of the ship; but directly the weather grew warmer, as the ship neared the Tropics, they emerged fearlessly from their lairs8 and swarmed9 everywhere. By this time the passengers had grown more or less accustomed to them, but the early stages of the invasion of the living pests of the ship had caused great consternation10 and indignation, especially on the part of the ladies on board.
In times of boredom11, when the passengers were "fed up" with deck-quoits and sweepstakes on the "day's run", the cockroaches would be pressed into service to provide entertainment. A dozen or more would be captured and placed on the deck, each having its own particular "fancier" in a miniature race, and it was surprising to see with what zest12 the passengers entered into the sport.
Presently Peter heard a light footfall on the deck, followed by a distinct knock upon the wide-open door of the cabin.
Rising, Peter found that Olive Baird was standing13 outside the brass-rimmed coaming.
"Good morning, Mr. Mostyn," she said. "Will you mind telling me if a message can be sent to Cape Town? And how much per word, please?"
"Sorry, Miss Baird," he replied, "we aren't in touch with any shore station. We may possibly get the Cape Town one to-morrow night."
At the back of his mind Peter found himself wondering why Miss Baird hadn't gone to the trouble of reading the announcement on the notice-board. He was rather glad she hadn't—perhaps she had purposely ignored it. It gave him an opportunity of entering into conversation with the girl.
Already Anstey had found out quite a lot about Olive Baird. How, he refused to divulge14, but it was pretty certain that the girl had let out little or nothing.
Olive Baird was motherless. Her father had married again to a woman only five years older than his daughter, and, instinctively15 scenting16 domestic trouble in the near future, Olive had determined17 to earn her own living—a task that she had already found to be far more difficult than the cultured girl had imagined.
Almost at the end of her resources—for she knew that she would receive neither sympathy nor help from her estranged18 parent—Olive remembered a distant relation, a girl but a few years older than herself, who had married an official holding an appointment in the Kenya Colony.
To her Olive wrote, asking if there might be any post open to her in the district. Three months elapsed before the reply came—that there was a warm welcome awaiting her. Enclosed was a banker's draft, enough, and only enough, to pay for her passage out and to provide a necessary and simple outfit19.
Before the West Barbican was many days out Mrs. Shallop, in one of her few amiable20 moods, had asked the friendless and reserved girl if she would, for a small remuneration, give her a couple of hours a day for the purpose of reading to her.
"My eyes aren't what they were," explained Mrs. Shallop. "And it's deadly dull on this ship when I can't even read."
So Olive thankfully accepted the post, because it helped her to pay her way; and, even when Mrs. Shallop had her almost at her beck and call, the girl did her best to keep on good terms with her.
It was not long before Olive found out the true nature of her supposed benefactress. Mrs. Shallop was vain, boastful, and with no regard for veracity21. She was one of those persons who, having told the same fairy tale over and over again, firmly believe that the lie is the truth. On the other hand, her memory was defective22, with the result that very frequently her story had a totally different setting when told a second or third time. In addition, she was bitingly sarcastic23, and was never known to say a good word about anyone but herself.
So Olive had rather a rotten time.
The girl was, however, absolutely loyal to her employer. In the course of conversation with other passengers she was careful not to say a word that might be detrimental24 to Mrs. Shallop. Evidently that lady thought she might, for Argus-like she kept a strict watch upon her.
The Shallops had taken "Round Trip" tickets. These were issued by the Blue Crescent Line, and guaranteed a voyage of not less than three months. If by any chance, as was frequently the case, the voyage was prolonged, the holder25 of the ticket scored, for he or she was maintained at the Company's expense until the ship returned home or the passengers transferred to another vessel26 of the Company's bound for England.
Olive Baird's employers had made a heap of money during the Great War, and were now doing their best to spend it. Nevertheless, they wanted value for their outlay27, and the round trip in the West Barbican pointed28 that way. Mr. Shallop was not keen on the voyage. It was his wife who insisted upon it, mainly because it was "the thing" to travel, and it would be an easy matter on their return to give out that they had gone on a palatial29 P. & O. mail-boat. It sounded grander than the Blue Crescent Line.
By this time the heat was beginning to tell upon the portly Mrs. Shallop. There were actually long intervals30 in which her strident voice failed to lacerate the ears of her fellow-passengers.
This was one of them. Wanting to do "the thing" and send a wireless message to her sister in Cape Town, Mrs. Shallop was too fatigued31 to mount the bridge-ladder; her husband had sheepishly slunk away to the smoking-room, and only Olive was available to undertake the commission.
"I'm sorry to have interrupted you," remarked Olive.
"Not at all; don't mention it," protested Peter; then, in an outburst of candour, he added: "You haven't seen our wireless-room."
"I should love to," rejoined Olive, who had the modern girl's leanings towards anything of a scientific nature. "I always wanted to see what it was like and how it worked, but I didn't like to ask you."
Without more ado Mostyn proceeded to explain the mysteries of that steel-walled house, unconsciously launching out into an intricate technical lecture on wave-lengths, atmospherics, induced current, valve and spark-gaps, until Olive was quite bewildered.
"There's nothing doing," he remarked, after the girl had placed the telephone ear-pieces to her shapely ears. "We're too far away from land. But I'll disconnect the aerial and let you see a ripping spark."
"Another time, Mr. Mostyn," demurred32 Olive. "Mrs. Shallop will wonder what I've been doing."
Calling silent maledictions upon the head of the tartar, Peter escorted the girl to the head of the bridge-ladder, extorting33 a promise that she would pay another visit to the wireless-cabin when the ship got within radiographic range.
"Or earlier if you like," he added.
He watched her disappear from sight and slowly made his way back to the cabin. Somehow the home-letter proceeded slowly and disjointedly. He was thinking of the jolly little girl who took such an interest in wireless.
Poor Peter! If he had only known how he had tired her almost to the verge34 of boredom.
Ten minutes after Miss Baird's departure Mostyn "got busy". Away to the starboard a vessel was calling CQ. The note was very faint and considerably35 hampered36 by atmospherics.
He was still endeavouring to tune37 in to the correct wave-length when he was interrupted by a vigorous punch between the shoulder-blades. Over his shoulder he saw that the interrupter was Mrs. Shallop.
Peter was rather more than annoyed by the interruption. He was angry. There was no denying that he possessed38 a temper, but he had usually the happy knack39 of keeping his feelings well under control. In the present circumstances he felt inclined to expostulate vehemently40.
For one thing, he had a rooted dislike for the woman. For another, she had no right to be on the bridge, unless for the purpose of sending off a message or by the skipper's permission. Neither reason held just then. The wireless-cabin was closed for private transmission; she had not obtained the Old Man's sanction to be on the bridge.
The fact that Miss Baird had been on that spot only a few minutes previously41 hardly entered into Mostyn's calculations. Unconsciously he had allowed himself to be influenced by personal considerations, and he had forgotten that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander.
With a deprecatory gesture of his left hand Mostyn attempted to convey the impression that he was busy. His attention had to be concentrated on the CQ message if he were to understand its import. It was difficult enough, without his being hampered by external interruptions.
One would have thought a hint sufficient. Not a bit of it! Mrs. Shallop was one of those hidebound, overbearing individuals who expected immediate42 and subservient43 attention.
"Why did you refuse to send off my message?" she demanded, in her loud, grating voice. "You put Miss Baird off with a trivial excuse, but that won't work with me, young man. Isn't my money as good as anyone else's? Don't you know that I'm the daughter of a naval——"
Mostyn removed the telephones and stood up. There was an ominous44 glint in his eyes. His forbearance was nearing the breaking-point.
"I can only refer you to the notice-board on the promenade-deck," he said. "That and the intimation that passengers are forbidden on the bridge except with the Captain's permission. If you have any cause for complaint, please report to Captain Bullock. I must ask you to leave the wireless-cabin at once."
Mrs. Shallop recoiled45 as if she had received a blow on the face. She had expected no opposition46. The quiet, decisive, and deliberate tones of the young Wireless Officer had completely taken the wind out of her sails.
Without a word she turned and made straight for the Old Man's cabin, bursting in like a tornado47.
Captain Bullock was being shaved by his servant. The sudden and unexpected entrance of the tartar caused Wilkins's attention to wander, with the result that a crimson48 streak49 discoloured the lather50 on the skipper's chin.
Captain Bullock had, according to his usual custom, decided51 to remove his beard when approaching the Cape, and the operation was well advanced when Mrs. Shallop intruded52 at a very inopportune moment.
She failed to recognize the skipper shorn of his beard and with his face plastered with soap.
"Where's the Old Man?" she demanded heatedly.
What was the exact nature of Captain Bullock's reply Mostyn was unable to hear. With his mouth full of soap and his chin bleeding profusely53 the Old Man's articulation54 was a trifle confused; but he certainly did let himself go, with the result that the interrupter, in spite of her oft-reiterated claim to be a lady, was unceremoniously requested to remove herself to a region considerably warmer than the skipper's cabin, the temperature of which was registering 130° in the shade.
Chuckling55 to himself, Peter saw the discomfited56 Mrs. Shallop descend57 the bridge-ladder with more haste than dignity; then he tried, but in vain, to pick up the interrupted CQ signal.
"Captain Sahib him want you, sahib," announced Mahmed.
Mostyn promptly58 obeyed the summons. He too was rather surprised at the alteration59 effected by the removal of the skipper's beard, the newly shaven portion contrasting forcibly with the brick-red tan of the rest of his face.
"Tell me," began the Captain, "what was that old barge60 doing in the wireless-cabin?"
Peter explained.
The Old Man nodded eagerly.
"You did the right thing, my boy," he remarked "I've had enough—more than enough—of that impossible woman. I told her that in future she is not to come on the bridge on any pretext61 whatsoever62. If she wants to send a message, let her; but she must do so in writing and submit it to me before it is passed. That'll clip her wings. All right, Mr. Mostyn, carry on."
Peter carried on until relieved by Watcher Plover63. The latter was improving considerably, although he could never become an operator. He lacked the education and intelligence necessary for the work, but by this time he was able to discriminate64 between various signals and to know the Morse call for the ship. Consequently Peter's watch below was not subject to numerous and unnecessary interruptions.
"Hello, Sparks!" exclaimed Preston, as Mostyn blew into the smoking-room. "So you've been up against it this time. Tell us all about it."
There were about half a dozen passengers, the Acting65 Chief Officer, and two of the engineers off duty passing a pleasant hour. All seemed eager to know full particulars of the encounter.
"She's an unmitigated nuisance," declared an artist, proceeding66 to Natal67 in order to paint some frescoes68 for one of the important buildings. "We'll all be reduced to nervous wrecks69 before we see the last of her. Can't we choke her off?"
"For Heaven's sake don't, old chap," protested Comyn, his cabin-mate, a tall, lean-faced, literary man. "I bear the brunt of it. Every morning I get a dose of it until I know every shred70 of her personal history in spite of the fact that the details vary as consistently as does the ship's position. It is priceless. I revel71 in it. Wouldn't miss it for worlds; I encourage her, in fact."
"'Tany rate," interposed Alderton grimly, "she called you a lanky72 reptile73."
"Perhaps," rejoined the unruffled author. "If it comes to that, she said you were a little worm. There's no end of fun making out that you believe all Mrs. Shallop tells you. It's a little gold mine."
"For you, perhaps," added Preston. "However, I guess the Old Man has upset her apple-cart. We won't hear her bell-like notes again in a hurry."
But he was mistaken. Into the smoke-laden atmosphere wafted74 the strident voice of the lady under discussion. She was venting75 her wrath76 upon Olive Baird.
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1
nil
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| n.无，全无，零 | |
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wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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overhauled
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| v.彻底检查( overhaul的过去式和过去分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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cockroaches
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| n.蟑螂( cockroach的名词复数 ) | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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lairs
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| n.（野兽的）巢穴，窝( lair的名词复数 )；（人的）藏身处 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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10
consternation
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| n.大为吃惊，惊骇 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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scenting
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| vt.闻到（scent的现在分词形式） | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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estranged
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| adj.疏远的，分离的 | |
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outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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20
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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veracity
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| n.诚实 | |
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defective
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| adj.有毛病的，有问题的，有瑕疵的 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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detrimental
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| adj.损害的，造成伤害的 | |
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holder
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| n.持有者，占有者；(台，架等)支持物 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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outlay
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| n.费用，经费，支出；v.花费 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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palatial
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| adj.宫殿般的，宏伟的 | |
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30
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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fatigued
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| adj. 疲乏的 | |
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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extorting
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| v.敲诈( extort的现在分词 )；曲解 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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41
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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subservient
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| adj.卑屈的，阿谀的 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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45
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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46
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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47
tornado
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| n.飓风，龙卷风 | |
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48
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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49
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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50
lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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51
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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52
intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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53
profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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54
articulation
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| n.（清楚的）发音；清晰度，咬合 | |
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55
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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56
discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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57
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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58
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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alteration
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| n.变更，改变；蚀变 | |
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60
barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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61
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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62
whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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plover
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| n.珩，珩科鸟，千鸟 | |
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64
discriminate
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| v.区别，辨别，区分；有区别地对待 | |
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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67
natal
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| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
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68
frescoes
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| n.壁画( fresco的名词复数 )；温壁画技法，湿壁画 | |
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69
wrecks
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| n.沉船( wreck的名词复数 )；（事故中）遭严重毁坏的汽车（或飞机等）；（身体或精神上）受到严重损伤的人；状况非常糟糕的车辆（或建筑物等）v.毁坏[毁灭]某物( wreck的第三人称单数 )；使（船舶）失事，使遇难，使下沉 | |
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70
shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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71
revel
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| vi.狂欢作乐，陶醉；n.作乐，狂欢 | |
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72
lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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73
reptile
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| n.爬行动物；两栖动物 | |
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74
wafted
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| v.吹送，飘送，（使）浮动( waft的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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venting
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| 消除； 泄去； 排去； 通风 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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