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Authors: Freeman Wills Crofts
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Or,” he went on after a glance at Gladstone’s face, “perhaps you don’t care to express an opinion? It won’t affect your side of the affair, you know.”
The captain was frowning and his mouth had become an even narrower line. “It won’t affect the navigation, I agree. Mr Stott,” he answered in a low but rather sharp voice, “but I’ll take the liberty of answering your question all the same. To be candid, I don’t like your idea and I’ll have nothing to do with it. Further, I think you owe me an apology for assuming that I would captain your gambling hell, and I’ll wait to hear it before wishing you ‘Good morning’.”
Morrison held his breath, expecting an outburst. But Stott merely smiled sardonically. “You have it, captain,” he answered in a slightly mocking tone, with a wide gesture as if to make the apology inclusive. “You have it now. If you don’t like my idea, I can assure you the loss is mine.”
Gladstone got up. “Then the matter is satisfactorily closed between us. Good morning, Mr Stott. I’m – I’m” – he hesitated, then his good manners triumphed – “sorry that our association has ended in this way.” He bowed to the company and disappeared.
Stott smiled at the closed door. “A good man, but crotchety. We’re well rid of him. Ring up the second on the list, Whitaker. Captain Hardwick, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.” The Secretary made a note.
Stott turned to Morrison. “Now, Morrison, we’ve had two opinions in this matter. What’s yours? Do you wish to stay or leave us?”
For a moment Morrison hesitated. He made no pretence to stricter morals than other people, yet he didn’t like the idea that he would be helping to carry on a gambling hell. What would he feel like, he thought, if he learnt that his livelihood had brought someone else to suicide?
Then he told himself that such ideas were morbid. If there were suicides, it would not be his fault. Besides, not only had he no other job, but nowhere else could he get another like this. He mustn’t be a sentimental fool.
The others had noticed his doubt, and now he hastened to assure Stott of his loyalty. He thought Stott’s expression slightly mocking as he nodded, while Bristow’s glare, which had been fixed on him in surprise and indignation, relaxed. Morrison saw he had had a narrow escape. A little more delay and he might have antagonised both men and perhaps permanently damaged his prospects.
“A nuisance about Gladstone,” Stott observed, passing from the subject. “We’ll be held up now till we can get Hardwick, unless,” he added with scorn, “his old maid’s conscience or his damned stuck-up pride prevents his – er –
acceptances
” – he stressed the word – “of the job. But you, Morrison, can begin work. You’ll have to check your results with the new captain, but, still, you can do a good deal yourself.”
“I’d be glad to get busy, sir.”
“Very well. I’ll take you first, and then you can get away. Your job will be to arrange transport between the passengers’ homes and the ship. I’ll tell you briefly what I have in mind, though it won’t work as I’m stating it. You’ll have to devise modifications to make it work. You follow?”
“I follow, sir.”
“Good. Then I want the ship during the summer – it’ll be the summer before we can put her on – to cruise to all the best bits of coast from the scenic or general interest points of view: and you’ll have to find out what those are. If possible, I’d like to include the Orkneys and Shetlands, the Hebrides and the west coast of Ireland.
But
, I want also a frequent connection to and from London, a daily connection, if possible. It would be ideal, for instance, if there was a good train leaving London about ten in the morning which would reach the ship that day, and a train back from the ship arriving in Town about six in the evening.”
“You think day travel best, do you, sir? What about travelling
The captain was frowning and his mouth had become an even narrower line. “It won’t affect the navigation, I agree. Mr Stott,” he answered in a low but rather sharp voice, “but I’ll take the liberty of answering your question all the same. To be candid, I don’t like your idea and I’ll have nothing to do with it. Further, I think you owe me an apology for assuming that I would captain your gambling hell, and I’ll wait to hear it before wishing you ‘Good morning’.”
Morrison held his breath, expecting an outburst. But Stott merely smiled sardonically. “You have it, captain,” he answered in a slightly mocking tone, with a wide gesture as if to make the apology inclusive. “You have it now. If you don’t like my idea, I can assure you the loss is mine.”
Gladstone got up. “Then the matter is satisfactorily closed between us. Good morning, Mr Stott. I’m – I’m” – he hesitated, then his good manners triumphed – “sorry that our association has ended in this way.” He bowed to the company and disappeared.
Stott smiled at the closed door. “A good man, but crotchety. We’re well rid of him. Ring up the second on the list, Whitaker. Captain Hardwick, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.” The Secretary made a note.
Stott turned to Morrison. “Now, Morrison, we’ve had two opinions in this matter. What’s yours? Do you wish to stay or leave us?”
For a moment Morrison hesitated. He made no pretence to stricter morals than other people, yet he didn’t like the idea that he would be helping to carry on a gambling hell. What would he feel like, he thought, if he learnt that his livelihood had brought someone else to suicide?
Then he told himself that such ideas were morbid. If there were suicides, it would not be his fault. Besides, not only had he no other job, but nowhere else could he get another like this. He mustn’t be a sentimental fool.
The others had noticed his doubt, and now he hastened to assure Stott of his loyalty. He thought Stott’s expression slightly mocking as he nodded, while Bristow’s glare, which had been fixed on him in surprise and indignation, relaxed. Morrison saw he had had a narrow escape. A little more delay and he might have antagonised both men and perhaps permanently damaged his prospects.
“A nuisance about Gladstone,” Stott observed, passing from the subject. “We’ll be held up now till we can get Hardwick, unless,” he added with scorn, “his old maid’s conscience or his damned stuck-up pride prevents his – er –
acceptances
” – he stressed the word – “of the job. But you, Morrison, can begin work. You’ll have to check your results with the new captain, but, still, you can do a good deal yourself.”
“I’d be glad to get busy, sir.”
“Very well. I’ll take you first, and then you can get away. Your job will be to arrange transport between the passengers’ homes and the ship. I’ll tell you briefly what I have in mind, though it won’t work as I’m stating it. You’ll have to devise modifications to make it work. You follow?”
“I follow, sir.”
“Good. Then I want the ship during the summer – it’ll be the summer before we can put her on – to cruise to all the best bits of coast from the scenic or general interest points of view: and you’ll have to find out what those are. If possible, I’d like to include the Orkneys and Shetlands, the Hebrides and the west coast of Ireland.
But
, I want also a frequent connection to and from London, a daily connection, if possible. It would be ideal, for instance, if there was a good train leaving London about ten in the morning which would reach the ship that day, and a train back from the ship arriving in Town about six in the evening.”
“You think day travel best, do you, sir? What about travelling
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