Not so liberally used in
this respect as others perhaps less worthy, when Alick offered him
the half of one of his fifteen sticks. I think, for my part, he
might have increased the offer to a whole one, or perhaps a pair of
them, and not lived to regret his liberality. But the Devonian
refused. 'No,' he said, 'you're a stowaway like me; I won't take
it from you, I'll take it from some one who's not down on his
luck.'
It was notable in this generous lad that he was strongly under the
influence of sex. If a woman passed near where he was working, his
eyes lit up, his hand paused, and his mind wandered instantly to
other thoughts. It was natural that he should exercise a
fascination proportionally strong upon women. He begged, you will
remember, from women only, and was never refused. Without wishing
to explain away the charity of those who helped him, I cannot but
fancy he may have owed a little to his handsome face, and to that
quick, responsive nature, formed for love, which speaks eloquently
through all disguises, and can stamp an impression in ten minutes'
talk or an exchange of glances. He was the more dangerous in that
he was far from bold, but seemed to woo in spite of himself, and
with a soft and pleading eye. Ragged as he was, and many a
scarecrow is in that respect more comfortably furnished, even on
board he was not without some curious admirers.
There was a girl among the passengers, a tall, blonde, handsome,
strapping Irishwoman, with a wild, accommodating eye, whom Alick
had dubbed Tommy, with that transcendental appropriateness that
defies analysis. One day the Devonian was lying for warmth in the
upper stoke-hole, which stands open on the deck, when Irish Tommy
came past, very neatly attired, as was her custom.
'Poor fellow,' she said, stopping, 'you haven't a vest.'
'No,' he said; 'I wish I 'ad.'
Then she stood and gazed on him in silence, until, in his
embarrassment, for he knew not how to look under this scrutiny, he
pulled out his pipe and began to fill it with tobacco.
'Do you want a match?' she asked. And before he had time to reply,
she ran off and presently returned with more than one.
That was the beginning and the end, as far as our passage is
concerned, of what I will make bold to call this love-affair.
There are many relations which go on to marriage and last during a
lifetime, in which less human feeling is engaged than in this scene
of five minutes at the stoke-hole.
Rigidly speaking, this would end the chapter of the stowaways; but
in a larger sense of the word I have yet more to add.
