The Devil's Admiral eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 270 pages of information about The Devil's Admiral.

The Devil's Admiral eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 270 pages of information about The Devil's Admiral.

“The weather is going to be fine from the way it looks now,” said Riggs, in an altered tone, as if he wanted to shift the conversation into more congenial lines.  “I trust we will all do our best to stay up to the weather in that respect—­quick passage and good company keeps everybody on good terms and in good spirits,” he added significantly.

Then he began giving us the stock-jokes of the China Sea and telling stories of his younger days, when he had better commands than the old Kut Sang.  He was a bluff but likable old sea-dog, but I saw that he observed Meeker closely as he talked, and I knew that he was none too well taken with him.

So the meal went on well enough.  Night had fallen upon us with tropical swiftness, and a cooling breeze was blowing through the open ports, charged with the salt tang of the sea.  The Kut Sang was humming along, and there was a soothing murmur through the ancient tub as she shouldered the gentle swells of the bay.

The saloon was cozy and we dallied at table, chiefly because we did not like to leave while Riggs was telling his stories, although I would have preferred my cigar on deck.

There was something about the little party in the saloon of the Kut Sang that evening that held my attention.  To me the air seemed charged with a foreboding of something imminent—­something out of the ordinary, something to be long remembered.  I told myself, in a premonition of things to come, that I should always remember Captain Riggs and the Rev. Luther Meeker and Trego and Rajah, and the very pattern of the parti-coloured cloth on the table, the creak of the pivot-chairs and the picture of the Japanese girl in the mineral-water calendar which swayed on the bulkhead opposite my seat.

I can see them now; as clearly as if I were back in the old Kut Sang, with the chatter of the Chinese sailors coming through the ports to spice the tales of the China coast which Riggs kept going.

We picked up Corregidor Light, which winked at us through the ports as we entered the channel.  Somebody looked in at the door of the passage and Riggs waved a napkin at him.

“Tell Mr. Harris to call me if he needs me,” he said, and then to us:  “It’s clear, and Mr. Harris, my mate, knows the Boca Grande like the palm of his hand.”

He was well launched into another of his long yarns and had a fresh cigar between his teeth when the pitching of the steamer told us we were heading into the China Sea.  We were clear of the channel by the time he had finished the adventure he was relating, and Trego was beginning to fidget.  We all moved as if to leave the table.

“I signed the two men you brought aboard, Mr. Meeker,” said Riggs.  “What are their names?”

“That I do not know for certain,” replied Meeker.  “I believe the chap in the navy-pantaloons is known as—­Buckrow, and the other, the tall Briton, is called ‘Long Jim,’ or some such name, by his companions.  They both appear to be worthy men, and it made me sad to see them on the beach in Manila for the need of passage to Hong-Kong, or some other place where they would be more likely to get a ship.

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Project Gutenberg
The Devil's Admiral from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.