In a steamer chair, and other shipboard storiesBarr, Robert
General
In a steamer chair, and other shipboard stories
Barr, Robert
Ocean travel -- Fiction; Sea stories; Short stories
As young Howard was somewhat prone to get emphatic when he began to
talk upon this subject, and as there was always a danger of other
people overhearing what he said, I drew him away to a more secluded
part of the ship. On this particular boat there was a wheelhouse aft
unused, and generally filled up with old steamer chairs. A narrow
passage led around this at the curving stern, seldom used by
promenaders because of certain obstructions which, in the dark, were
apt to trip a person up. Chains or something went from this wheelhouse
to the sides of the ship, and, being covered up by boxes of plank, made
this part of the deck hard to travel on in the dark. As we went around
this narrow passage young Howard was the first to stop. He clutched my
arm, but said nothing. There in the dark was the faint outline of two
persons, with their backs towards us, leaning over the stern of the
ship. The vibration at this part of the boat, from the throbbing of the
screw, made it impossible for them to hear our approach. They doubtless
thought they were completely in the dark; but they were deluded in that
idea, because the turmoil of the water left a brilliant phosphorescent
belt far in the rear of the ship, and against this bright, faintly
yellow luminous track their forms were distinctly outlined. It needed
no second glance to see that the two were Glendenning and Mrs. Tremain.
Her head rested on his shoulder, and his arm was around her waist.
“Let us get back,” I said in a whisper; and, somewhat to my surprise,
young Howard turned back with me. I felt his hand trembling on my arm,
but he said nothing. Before we could say a word to each other a sadden
and unexpected complication arose. We met Captain Tremain, with a shawl
on his arm, coming towards us.
“Good evening, captain,” I said; “have a turn on the deck with us?”
“No, thanks,” he replied, “I am looking for my wife. I want to give her
this shawl to put over her shoulders. She is not accustomed to such
chilly weather as we are now running into, and I am afraid she may take
cold.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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