"And what had happened to me? You'll think I was a pretty cheap sort of
a lover to let my brother cut me out so easy as that. You'll say I never
really loved her. Who can tell that? Who can say how much or how little
he loves? Yes, yes, I loved her. But what, I ask you, is the use of a
man mooning his life away for a girl who has never given him a minute's
thought? It is a waste of time and energy and life. When that view of
worlds outside of mine broke on me the love-trance broke. I said to
myself: 'I am young; I will go out and see things.' Well, I went out and
I saw things, and I don't regret it. But there's one thing we never see
again, and that's the illusion of first love.
"I begged my mother to say nothing to Frank about me until I was gone,
and a day or two later I slipped away to Paddington with a couple of
grips and took the train to Barry Docks. It will give you an idea of the
quiet life I had led when I tell you this was my first long journey. I
had been to places within one hundred and fifty miles of London, but
never farther. I felt lost when they turned me out on the platform at
Barry in the rain and dark. A seaport is not a very attractive place to
a landsman.
"The next twenty-four hours were strenuous for me. More than once I
wondered if I could live through it. When I got to the dock I walked up
and down looking for a ship that resembled the model of the _Corydon_.
There weren't any. I asked a man in a blue frock-coat if the _Corydon_
had come in.
"'Aye,' says he. 'Here she is, just abaft of ye,' and he pointed to a
rusty, dirty old tub with a battered funnel and a bridge all blocked
with hatches. That the beautiful shiny _Corydon_? There was the name on
her stern--_Corydon, London_. She was loading coal from a big elevator.
Her decks were piled high with it, and where there wasn't coal there was
mud, black oozy mud, and ashes and ropes and soppy hatches. I climbed up
the ladder and one by one got my grips aboard. And I stood there in the
rain, my gloves all black with the coal on the ladder, my nice
mackintosh barred with it, and my boots slipping on the iron plates. No
one took any notice of me. Men went to and fro in oilskins and shouted,
but they didn't seem to see me. Just for a moment I thought of bolting!
Humph!
"Finally I spoke to one of the men, saying I had a letter for the chief
engineer. He took me round into a dark alleyway under the bridge-deck
aft and shouted down: 'Here comes the Second,' he says. 'He'll fix ye.'
"Well, he came up, that Second did, not very pleased at being disturbed.
'What is it?' he says. He was grease from head to foot, as though some
one had been rolling him in a sewer.
"'I'm the Fourth Engineer,' I said. 'Oh, are ye,' says he, 'I thought ye
were comin' this mornin'. Better get a boiler-suit on and give a hand.
We're goin' to sea to-morrow noon.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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