Read Online English passengers by Matthew Kneale - Free Book Online Page B

perhaps my imagination, yet all at once I had the distinctsensation that the doctor was not drawing some abstract profile of suitable leadership, but was subtly trying to recommend his own self. This might seem unfair, and yet in the short time I had known him I had observed he was a man of lively, even pushing nature. It was hardly a prospect I could welcome. The fellow was doubtless admirable in his own way and yet I was far from convinced of his fitness for this most important task. Ours was no ordinary expedition, after all, but something like a holy quest, in search of wonders of limitless significance. It would be quite wrong to place at its head a man about whom almost nothing was known, least of all his moral understanding. My concern, and it was no small one, was that Mr. Childs, unpredictable enthusiast that he was, might simply suggest the doctor as leader there and then.
    ‘‘Surely,’’ I proposed, ‘‘we should be looking for someone with a proven commitment to principles behind this venture. Someone of known moral purpose.’’ I should make it clear that I had no wish to suggest myself. To do so, would have been against my very nature, which abhors any kind of self-advancement. The thought, indeed, had not even occurred to me. I was simply concerned to define the correct qualities of leadership, for the sake of the expedition.
    ‘‘A geologist perhaps?’’ murmured Renshaw, quite unnecessarily, glancing from Potter to myself with a provoking look.
    Jonah Childs turned in my direction, seeming faintly surprised, as if some notion had occurred to him for the first time. ‘‘Perhaps you yourself would be willing to take up the task, Vicar?’’
    Thus it was that, sudden and unsought for, this most difficult of honours appeared before me. The suggestion was so unforeseen that I found myself quite taken aback, assailed by troubling thoughts. How could I even contemplate such a thing when there must be, surely, another far better suited? Yet where was he, though? It occurred to me that, imperfect though I might consider myself, I was not wholly without qualities that might prove of usefulness. I did have a knowledge of the Scriptures, and of geology, as well as being possessed of some poor understanding of the minds of men. So much was at stake, and so great was the urgency! The others were stood watching me, awaiting my reply. Could I? Should I? All at once I recalled my visionary dream of justa few days before, and the cry I had heard: ‘‘Come hither, sweet vicar, come hither, and make haste.’’
    There was my answer. ‘‘If you require me to lead this expedition,’’ I declared quietly, ‘‘then I shall do it.’’
    Dear Mr. Childs broke into a wide smile. ‘‘Bravo, Vicar, bravo!’’
    ‘‘We still need a boat,’’ Renshaw insisted drearily.
    In the event, a solution was nearer than we could ever have guessed. It was almost as if, having overcome one great hurdle, we had now earned a remedy to the other. Our saviour was none other than my own wife, who appeared through the door just a moment later, clutching a hatbox. ‘‘What is going on?’’ she demanded, regarding, with no little surprise, the great pile of expedition stores. Hardly had I begun to explain our predicament, however, when she waved her hand in dismissal, as if there could be nothing so foolish.
    ‘‘But there was a ship for charter in this morning’s newspaper,’’ she declared, amazing us all. ‘‘It had a delightful name as I recall. I believe it was the
Chastity
.’’

CHAPTER TWO

    Thirty-seven years earlier

Jack Harp
1820

    I F IT HADN ’ T BEEN for the wind veering round northeasterly so sweet, then probably none of it would’ve ever happened and I’d still have that small rowboat. That is a thought.
    The sealing season was done and supplies on the island were getting low, so it was time to take the big whaleboat over to George Town to call in on that penny-pinching bugger Bill Haskins. That