Epistolary fiction; Tramp shipping -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
She stayed on the bridge all the afternoon and I explained everything
to her--the compass, the charts, the signal lights, the handling of
the ship, and whatnot. She couldn’t have understood a thing, but she
smiled and nodded her head. If I had spoken Chinese to her, she would
still have smiled, she was so happy. That night at dinner, Fourgues
seized the occasion to give Villiers and me a sermon on love, in order
to encourage us to marry soon. Can’t you just hear him? He went through
the whole gamut. As far as I am concerned I didn’t need so much--I’m
only waiting for the chance. But Villiers tried to have him on and
interposed all sorts of objections. And then the little lady took a
hand and laid him out in five secs., and Villiers ended by confessing
himself beaten and begging her to find him someone who resembled her as
closely as possible. And so we were happy and on the best of terms. She
went to bed and slept a full fourteen hours. When the _Pamir_ reached
Bizerta, about ten o’clock in the morning, she came out of her cabin as
fresh as a rose, and by Jingo her sub-lieutenant of a husband must find
her more agreeable at night than a cutting wind in his face in ugly
weather! It happened that the _Pamir_ was sent to Sidi-Abdallah, right
where the _Bayard_ was in dry-dock, and that we anchored close to land.
“There is your ship, little girl,” said Fourgues, “and your husband is
on it. Greet him for me if you remember. And be assured nothing will
happen to him. With a little wife like you he is under a lucky star!”
She trotted off without waiting for anything more--fairly dancing--just
fluttering a good-bye with her finger-tips--except that she gave
Fourgues another hug.
You must forgive me for having told you all this. But you see on the
_Pamir_ we have so few distractions and it was worth more than all the
worries in the ports and the mooching around at sea. No doubt about it,
that little woman had nerve! If everybody had as much the war would
last six months less.
We had no time to find out what happened to her, for the _Pamir_ was
immediately packed off to Bilbao--still empty--which means that the
Government will have paid the owners a voyage from Salonica to Bilbao
for doing nothing. But that’s no business of ours, is it? We sail, we
carry out orders--even when there aren’t any!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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