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Updated: June 25, 2025
He succeeded in limiting his intercourse to an exchange of passing remarks on the weather until the Croonah had rounded Pointe de Galle and was heading northwards. Then arose circumstances which brought them together, and possibly served Willie Carr's deliberate purpose. Carr was travelling without his wife he was the sort of man who does travel without his wife.
A few moments later they saw him cutting with a hatchet at the ropes holding the boat to the davit. There were four, for it was a heavy boat, held by a double block. He cut two at a stroke: the others ran out instantly. The boat disappeared to leeward like a runaway hat, and fell with a splash into the foaming sea. The Croonah seemed to feel the relief.
It wouldn't be hard for you to tell when the Croonah was running into a tight place like yesterday. All you have to do is to wire home one word to me. My telegraphic address is 'Simple, London. Say you wire home 'Milksop. We could fix on 'Milksop'; it sounds so innocent!
Long time, isn't it, since we saw each other? You must come back with me, and have lunch or something. The men will be awfully glad to make your acquaintance. You can look over the ship, though she is not much to look at, you know! Not up to this. She is a fine ship, Luke! What can she steam?" "She can do her twenty," answered the second officer of the Croonah, indifferently. "Yes, she looks it.
Not the daughter, the old woman, I mean. Oh yes. Where are they going?" "To Malta." It was perfectly obvious, even to Luke, that the Ingham-Bakers' immediate or projective destination was a matter of the utmost indifference to Fitz, who was more interested in the Croonah than in her passengers. They were both conscious of an indefinite feeling of disappointment.
So he laid him down in his little cabin to sleep, while the sun rose over the blue Mediterranean, while some passengers went ashore and others came on board, while the single word "Milksop" was spelt over a continent; and he was still sleeping when the anchor was jerked up from its muddy bed, and the watchers on pier and harbour looked their last on the grand old Croonah.
He paused, saw Luke and Agatha standing together beneath the lamp. "Captain's callin' you like hell!" he cried. "Engine-room's full. The old ship's got it this time, sir." "All right, I know," answered Luke curtly; and the man ran on, shouting as he went. At this moment the Croonah gave a shiver, and Luke looked round hastily.
A confused murmuring of voices rose from the saloon gangway a buzzing sound, like that of a hive disturbed. A single voice rose in a shriek of mortal terror, and immediately there followed a chorus of confused shouts. Luke already had his lips at the speaking-tube. He was telling the engineer on watch to steam ahead; he knew the danger of the Croonah slipping back into deep water and sinking.
The Croonah turned her blunt prow half a point out into the Atlantic, and she raced on; she passed by Burling Island, leaving the slowly winking eye on her starboard quarter. Ahead lay the complete darkness of the north- west horizon. Luke stood at his post, his eyes hidden by his binoculars. He was studying the horizon in front of him in front of the Croonah.
On the rise of a wave he saw her little bare foot; it was quite still. He knew that she was dead, and the blessed sleepiness took him again, dragging him down. So the last of the Croonah was her good name written large on a yellow telegram form, nailed to the panel of the room technically known as the Chamber of Horrors at Lloyd's.
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