A Master of Fortune | Page 5

myself," he said. "Hullo, what's up now?
There are two of the passenger boys getting pushed off the
forecastle-head by their own friends on to the main deck."
"They look a mighty sick couple," said Kettle, "and their friends seem
very frightened. If this ship doesn't carry a doctor, it would be a good
thing if the old man were to start in and deal out some drugs."
It seemed that Rabeira was of the same opinion. He went down to the
main deck, and there, under the scorching tropical sunshine,
interviewed the two sick negroes in person, and afterwards
administered to each of them a draught from a blue glass bottle. Then
he came up, smiling and hospitable and perspiring, on to the bridge,
and invited the pilots to go below and dine. "Chop lib for cabin," said
he; "palm-oil chop, plenty-too-much-good. You lib for below and chop.
I take dem ship myself up dis next reach."
"Well, it is plain, deep water," said Nilssen, "and I guess you sabbey
how to keep in the middle as well as I do. Come along, Kettle."
The pair of them went below to the baking cabin and dined off a savory
orange-colored stew, and washed it down with fiery red wine, and
dodged the swarming, crawling cockroaches. The noise of angry negro
voices came to them between whiles through the hot air, like the distant
chatter of apes.
The Dane was obviously ill at ease and frightened; the Englishman,
though feeling a contempt for his companion, was very much on the
alert himself, and prepared for emergencies. There was that mysterious
something in the atmosphere which would have bidden the dullest of
mortals prepare for danger.
Up they came on deck again, and on to the bridge. Rabeira himself was
there in charge, dark, smiling, affable as ever.

Nilssen looked sharply down at the main deck below. "Hullo," said he,
"those two niggers gone already? You haven't shifted them down below,
I suppose?"
The Portuguese Captain shrugged his shoulders. "No," he said, "it was
bad sickness, an' dey died an' gone over the side. I lose by their passage.
I lose also the two fire-bar which I give for funeral palaver. Ver'
disappointing."
"Sudden kind of sickness," said Nilssen.
"Dis sickness is. It make a man lib for die in one minute, clock time.
But it don' matter to you pilot, does it? You lib for below--off duty--dis
las' half hour. You see nothing, you sabby nothing. I don'-want no
trouble at Boma with doctor palaver. I make it all right for you after.
Sabby?"
"Oh, I tumble to what you're driving at, but I was just thinking out how
it works. However, you're captain of this ship, and if you choose not to
log down a couple of deaths, I suppose it's your palaver. Anyway, I
don't want to cause no ill-will, and if you think it's worth a dash, I don't
see why I shouldn't earn it. It's little enough we pick up else in this
service, and I've got a wife at home in Liverpool who has to be thought
about."
Kettle drew a deep breath. "It seems to me," he said, looking very hard
at the Portuguese, "that those men died a bit too sudden. Are you sure
they were pukka dead when you put them over the side?"
"Oh, yes," said Rabeira smilingly, "an' dey made no objection. It was
best dey should go over quick. Bodies do not keep in this heat. An' pilot,
I do you square-a, same as with Nilssen. You shall have your dash
when doctor-palaver set."
"No," said Kettle, "you may keep it in your own trousers, Captain.
Money that you've fingered, is a bit too dirty for me to touch."
"All right," said Rabeira with a genial shrug, "so much cheaper for me.

But do not talk on the beach, dere's good boy, or you make
trouble-palaver for me."
"I'll shut my head if you stop at this," said Kettle, "but if you murder
any more of those poor devils, I'll see you sent to join them, if there's
enough law in this State to rig a gallows."
The Portuguese did not get angry. On the contrary, he seemed rather
pleased at getting what he wanted without having to bribe for it, and
ordered up fresh glasses and another bottle of wine for the pilots'
delectation. But this remained untouched. Kettle would not drink
himself, and Nilssen (who wished to be at peace with both sides) did
not wish to under the circumstances.
To tell the truth, the Dane was beginning to get rather scared of his
grim-visaged little companion; and so, to prevent further recurrence to
unpleasant topics, he plunged once more into the detail of professional
matters. Here was a