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When
the
bell
rang
Captain
Whalley
's
authoritative
voice
boomed
out
through
a
closed
door
,
"
Sit
down
and
do
n't
wait
for
me
.
"
And
his
impressed
officers
took
their
places
,
exchanging
looks
and
whispers
across
the
table
.
What
!
No
breakfast
?
And
after
apparently
knocking
about
all
night
on
deck
,
too
!
Clearly
,
there
was
something
in
the
wind
.
In
the
skylight
above
their
heads
,
bowed
earnestly
over
the
plates
,
three
wire
cages
rocked
and
rattled
to
the
restless
jumping
of
the
hungry
canaries
;
and
they
could
detect
the
sounds
of
their
"
old
man
's
"
deliberate
movements
within
his
state-room
.
Captain
Whalley
was
methodically
winding
up
the
chronometers
,
dusting
the
portrait
of
his
late
wife
,
getting
a
clean
white
shirt
out
of
the
drawers
,
making
himself
ready
in
his
punctilious
unhurried
manner
to
go
ashore
.
He
could
not
have
swallowed
a
single
mouthful
of
food
that
morning
.
He
had
made
up
his
mind
to
sell
the
Fair
Maid
.
<
Just
at
that
time
the
Japanese
were
casting
far
and
wide
for
ships
of
European
build
,
and
he
had
no
difficulty
in
finding
a
purchaser
,
a
speculator
who
drove
a
hard
bargain
,
but
paid
cash
down
for
the
Fair
Maid
,
with
a
view
to
a
profitable
resale
.
Thus
it
came
about
that
Captain
Whalley
found
himself
on
a
certain
afternoon
descending
the
steps
of
one
of
the
most
important
post-offices
of
the
East
with
a
slip
of
bluish
paper
in
his
hand
.
This
was
the
receipt
of
a
registered
letter
enclosing
a
draft
for
two
hundred
pounds
,
and
addressed
to
Melbourne
.
Captain
Whalley
pushed
the
paper
into
his
waistcoat-pocket
,
took
his
stick
from
under
his
arm
,
and
walked
down
the
street
.
It
was
a
recently
opened
and
untidy
thoroughfare
with
rudimentary
side-walks
and
a
soft
layer
of
dust
cushioning
the
whole
width
of
the
road
.
One
end
touched
the
slummy
street
of
Chinese
shops
near
the
harbor
,
the
other
drove
straight
on
,
without
houses
,
for
a
couple
of
miles
,
through
patches
of
jungle-like
vegetation
,
to
the
yard
gates
of
the
new
Consolidated
Docks
Company
.
The
crude
frontages
of
the
new
Government
buildings
alternated
with
the
blank
fencing
of
vacant
plots
,
and
the
view
of
the
sky
seemed
to
give
an
added
spaciousness
to
the
broad
vista
.
It
was
empty
and
shunned
by
natives
after
business
hours
,
as
though
they
had
expected
to
see
one
of
the
tigers
from
the
neighborhood
of
the
New
Waterworks
on
the
hill
coming
at
a
loping
canter
down
the
middle
to
get
a
Chinese
shopkeeper
for
supper
.
Captain
Whalley
was
not
dwarfed
by
the
solitude
of
the
grandly
planned
street
.
He
had
too
fine
a
presence
for
that
.
He
was
only
a
lonely
figure
walking
purposefully
,
with
a
great
white
beard
like
a
pilgrim
,
and
with
a
thick
stick
that
resembled
a
weapon
.
On
one
side
the
new
Courts
of
Justice
had
a
low
and
unadorned
portico
of
squat
columns
half
concealed
by
a
few
old
trees
left
in
the
approach
.
On
the
other
the
pavilion
wings
of
the
new
Colonial
Treasury
came
out
to
the
line
of
the
street
.
But
Captain
Whalley
,
who
had
now
no
ship
and
no
home
,
remembered
in
passing
that
on
that
very
site
when
he
first
came
out
from
England
there
had
stood
a
fishing
village
,
a
few
mat
huts
erected
on
piles
between
a
muddy
tidal
creek
and
a
miry
pathway
that
went
writhing
into
a
tangled
wilderness
without
any
docks
or
waterworks
.
No
ship
--
no
home
.
And
his
poor
Ivy
away
there
had
no
home
either
.
A
boarding-house
is
no
sort
of
home
though
it
may
get
you
a
living
.
His
feelings
were
horribly
rasped
by
the
idea
of
the
boarding-house
.
In
his
rank
of
life
he
had
that
truly
aristocratic
temperament
characterized
by
a
scorn
of
vulgar
gentility
and
by
prejudiced
views
as
to
the
derogatory
nature
of
certain
occupations
.
For
his
own
part
he
had
always
preferred
sailing
merchant
ships
(
which
is
a
straightforward
occupation
)
to
buying
and
selling
merchandise
,
of
which
the
essence
is
to
get
the
better
of
somebody
in
a
bargain
--
an
undignified
trial
of
wits
at
best
.
His
father
had
been
Colonel
Whalley
(
retired
)
of
the
H.
E.
I.
Company
's
service
,
with
very
slender
means
besides
his
pension
,
but
with
distinguished
connections
.
He
could
remember
as
a
boy
how
frequently
waiters
at
the
inns
,
country
tradesmen
and
small
people
of
that
sort
,
used
to
"
My
lord
"
the
old
warrior
on
the
strength
of
his
appearance
.
Captain
Whalley
himself
(
he
would
have
entered
the
Navy
if
his
father
had
not
died
before
he
was
fourteen
)
had
something
of
a
grand
air
which
would
have
suited
an
old
and
glorious
admiral
;
but
he
became
lost
like
a
straw
in
the
eddy
of
a
brook
amongst
the
swarm
of
brown
and
yellow
humanity
filling
a
thoroughfare
,
that
by
contrast
with
the
vast
and
empty
avenue
he
had
left
seemed
as
narrow
as
a
lane
and
absolutely
riotous
with
life
.
The
walls
of
the
houses
were
blue
;
the
shops
of
the
Chinamen
yawned
like
cavernous
lairs
;
heaps
of
nondescript
merchandise
overflowed
the
gloom
of
the
long
range
of
arcades
,
and
the
fiery
serenity
of
sunset
took
the
middle
of
the
street
from
end
to
end
with
a
glow
like
the
reflection
of
a
fire
.
It
fell
on
the
bright
colors
and
the
dark
faces
of
the
bare-footed
crowd
,
on
the
pallid
yellow
backs
of
the
half-naked
jostling
coolies
,
on
the
accouterments
of
a
tall
Sikh
trooper
with
a
parted
beard
and
fierce
mustaches
on
sentry
before
the
gate
of
the
police
compound
.
Looming
very
big
above
the
heads
in
a
red
haze
of
dust
,
the
tightly
packed
car
of
the
cable
tramway
navigated
cautiously
up
the
human
stream
,
with
the
incessant
blare
of
its
horn
,
in
the
manner
of
a
steamer
groping
in
a
fog
.
Captain
Whalley
emerged
like
a
diver
on
the
other
side
,
and
in
the
desert
shade
between
the
walls
of
closed
warehouses
removed
his
hat
to
cool
his
brow
.
A
certain
disrepute
attached
to
the
calling
of
a
landlady
of
a
boarding-house
.
These
women
were
said
to
be
rapacious
,
unscrupulous
,
untruthful
;
and
though
he
contemned
no
class
of
his
fellow-creatures
--
God
forbid
!
--
these
were
suspicions
to
which
it
was
unseemly
that
a
Whalley
should
lay
herself
open
.
He
had
not
expostulated
with
her
,
however
.
He
was
confident
she
shared
his
feelings
;
he
was
sorry
for
her
;
he
trusted
her
judgment
;
he
considered
it
a
merciful
dispensation
that
he
could
help
her
once
more
,
--
but
in
his
aristocratic
heart
of
hearts
he
would
have
found
it
more
easy
to
reconcile
himself
to
the
idea
of
her
turning
seamstress
.
Vaguely
he
remembered
reading
years
ago
a
touching
piece
called
the
"
Song
of
the
Shirt
.
"
It
was
all
very
well
making
songs
about
poor
women
.
The
granddaughter
of
Colonel
Whalley
,
the
landlady
of
a
boarding-house
!
Pooh
!
He
replaced
his
hat
,
dived
into
two
pockets
,
and
stopping
a
moment
to
apply
a
flaring
match
to
the
end
of
a
cheap
cheroot
,
blew
an
embittered
cloud
of
smoke
at
a
world
that
could
hold
such
surprises
.
Of
one
thing
he
was
certain
--
that
she
was
the
own
child
of
a
clever
mother
.
Now
he
had
got
over
the
wrench
of
parting
with
his
ship
,
he
perceived
clearly
that
such
a
step
had
been
unavoidable
.
Perhaps
he
had
been
growing
aware
of
it
all
along
with
an
unconfessed
knowledge
.
But
she
,
far
away
there
,
must
have
had
an
intuitive
perception
of
it
,
with
the
pluck
to
face
that
truth
and
the
courage
to
speak
out
--
all
the
qualities
which
had
made
her
mother
a
woman
of
such
excellent
counsel
.
