Traffics and Discoveries Part 46

"What for?" said Pritchard, most impolitely.

"Because deserters are like columns in the war. They don't move away from the line, you see. I've known a chap caught at Salisbury that way tryin'

to get to Nya.s.sa. They tell me, but o' course I don't know, that they don't ask questions on the Nya.s.sa Lake Flotilla up there. I've heard of a P. and O. quartermaster in full command of an armed launch there."

"Do you think Click 'ud ha' gone up that way?" Pritchard asked.

"There's no saying. He was sent up to Bloemfontein to take over some Navy ammunition left in the fort. We know he took it over and saw it into the trucks. Then there was no more Click--then or thereafter. Four months ago it transpired, and thus the _casus belli_ stands at present," said Pyecroft.

"What were his marks?" said Hooper again.

"Does the Railway get a reward for returnin' 'em, then?" said Pritchard.

"If I did d'you suppose I'd talk about it?" Hooper retorted angrily.

"You seemed so very interested," said Pritchard with equal crispness.

"Why was he called Click?" I asked to tide over an uneasy little break in the conversation. The two men were staring at each other very fixedly.

"Because of an ammunition hoist carryin' away," said Pyecroft. "And it carried away four of 'is teeth--on the lower port side, wasn't it, Pritch?

The subst.i.tutes which he bought weren't screwed home in a manner o'

sayin'. When he talked fast they used to lift a little on the bed plate.

'Ence, 'Click.' They called 'im a superior man which is what we'd call a long, black-'aired, genteely speakin', 'alf-bred beggar on the lower deck."

"Four false teeth on the lower left jaw," said Hooper, his hand in his waistcoat pocket. "What tattoo marks?"

"Look here," began Pritchard, half rising. "I'm sure we're very grateful to you as a gentleman for your 'orspitality, but per'aps we may 'ave made an error in--"

I looked at Pyecroft for aid, Hooper was crimsoning rapidly.

"If the fat marine now occupying the foc'sle will kindly bring 'is _status quo_ to an anchor yet once more, we may be able to talk like gentlemen-- not to say friends," said Pyecroft. "He regards you, Mr. Hooper, as a emissary of the Law."

"I only wish to observe that when a gentleman exhibits such a peculiar, or I should rather say, such a _bloomin'_ curiosity in identification marks as our friend here----"

"Mr. Pritchard," I interposed, "I'll take all the responsibility for Mr.

Hooper."

"An' _you_'ll apologise all round," said Pyecroft. "You're a rude little man, Pritch."

"But how was I----" he began, wavering.

"I don't know an' I don't care. Apologise!"

The giant looked round bewildered and took our little hands into his vast grip, one by one. "I was wrong," he said meekly as a sheep. "My suspicions was unfounded. Mr. Hooper, I apologise."

"You did quite right to look out for your own end o' the line," said Hooper. "I'd ha' done the same with a gentleman I didn't know, you see. If you don't mind I'd like to hear a little more o' your Mr. Vickery. It's safe with me, you see."

"Why did Vickery run," I began, but Pyecroft's smile made me turn my question to "Who was she?"

"She kep' a little hotel at Hauraki--near Auckland," said Pyecroft.

"By Gawd!" roared Pritchard, slapping his hand on his leg. "Not Mrs.

Bathurst!"

Pyecroft nodded slowly, and the Sergeant called all the powers of darkness to witness his bewilderment.

"So far as I could get at it Mrs. B. was the lady in question."

"But Click was married," cried Pritchard.

"An' 'ad a fifteen year old daughter. 'E's shown me her photograph.

Settin' that aside, so to say, 'ave you ever found these little things make much difference? Because I haven't."

"Good Lord Alive an' Watchin'!... Mrs. Bathurst...." Then with another roar: "You can say what you please, Pye, but you don't make me believe it was any of 'er fault. She wasn't _that!_"

"If I was going to say what I please, I'd begin by callin' you a silly ox an' work up to the higher pressures at leisure. I'm trying to say solely what transpired. M'rover, for once you're right. It wasn't her fault."

"You couldn't 'aven't made me believe it if it 'ad been," was the answer.

Such faith in a Sergeant of Marines interested me greatly. "Never mind about that," I cried. "Tell me what she was like."

"She was a widow," said Pyecroft. "Left so very young and never re-spliced. She kep' a little hotel for warrants and non-coms close to Auckland, an' she always wore black silk, and 'er neck--"

"You ask what she was like," Pritchard broke in. "Let me give you an instance. I was at Auckland first in '97, at the end o' the _Marroquin's_ commission, an' as I'd been promoted I went up with the others. She used to look after us all, an' she never lost by it--not a penny! 'Pay me now,'

she'd say, 'or settle later. I know you won't let me suffer. Send the money from home if you like,' Why, gentlemen all, I tell you I've seen that lady take her own gold watch an' chain off her neck in the bar an'

pa.s.s it to a bosun 'oo'd come ash.o.r.e without 'is ticker an' 'ad to catch the last boat. 'I don't know your name,' she said, 'but when you've done with it, you'll find plenty that know me on the front. Send it back by one o' them.' And it was worth thirty pounds if it was worth 'arf a crown. The little gold watch, Pye, with the blue monogram at the back. But, as I was sayin', in those days she kep' a beer that agreed with me--Slits it was called. One way an' another I must 'ave punished a good few bottles of it while we was in the bay--comin' ash.o.r.e every night or so. Chaffin across the bar like, once when we were alone, 'Mrs. B.,' I said, 'when next I call I want you to remember that this is my particular--just as you're my particular?' (She'd let you go _that_ far!) 'Just as you're my particular,' I said. 'Oh, thank you, Sergeant Pritchard,' she says, an'

put 'er hand up to the curl be'ind 'er ear. Remember that way she had, Pye?"

"I think so," said the sailor.

"Yes, 'Thank you, Sergeant Pritchard,' she says. 'The least I can do is to mark it for you in case you change your mind. There's no great demand for it in the Fleet,' she says, 'but to make sure I'll put it at the back o'

the shelf,' an' she snipped off a piece of her hair ribbon with that old dolphin cigar cutter on the bar--remember it, Pye?--an' she tied a bow round what was left--just four bottles. That was '97--no, '96. In '98 I was in the _Resiliant_--China station--full commission. In Nineteen One, mark you, I was in the _Carthusian_, back in Auckland Bay again. Of course I went up to Mrs. B.'s with the rest of us to see how things were goin'.

They were the same as ever. (Remember the big tree on the pavement by the side-bar, Pye?) I never said anythin' in special (there was too many of us talkin' to her), but she saw me at once."

"That wasn't difficult?" I ventured.

"Ah, but wait. I was comin' up to the bar, when, 'Ada,' she says to her niece, 'get me Sergeant Pritchard's particular,' and, gentlemen all, I tell you before I could shake 'ands with the lady, there were those four bottles o' Slits, with 'er 'air ribbon in a bow round each o' their necks, set down in front o' me, an' as she drew the cork she looked at me under her eyebrows in that blindish way she had o' lookin', an', 'Sergeant Pritchard,' she says, 'I do 'ope you 'aven't changed your mind about your particulars.' That's the kind o' woman she was--after five years!"

"I don't _see_ her yet somehow," said Hooper, but with sympathy.

"She--she never scrupled to feed a lame duck or set 'er foot on a scorpion at any time of 'er life," Pritchard added valiantly.

"That don't help me either. My mother's like that for one."

The giant heaved inside his uniform and rolled his eyes at the car-roof.

Said Pyecroft suddenly:--

"How many women have you been intimate with all over the world, Pritch?"

Pritchard blushed plum colour to the short hairs of his seventeen-inch neck.