The Ice Pilot

ning in Sa

drizzling mist swept like some fine

hed with its square-checked habitations; its long, blurred lanes of lights;

sunlight in a mad frolic beyond the edge of the world. He had noted-for his eyes were sharp-the fore-topsail o

emed to burst with drunken mirth and laughter. A woman's voice swung i

for th

ly, jol

he grog an

r tin with the lad

briny ocean we

ver coins together, and descended the hill to t

noisy welcome when he op

interior of the Blubber Room. The figures of old salts, crimps, half-pay officers, and one square-jawed sailor l

orn as Horace Stirling, the Ice Pilot. He had been in such dives bef

akland way. His chickens died as sailors die of scurv

for adventure in the Blubber Room that night; rumour had it that a ship was outf

face with which destiny loves to toy, the face of a rover and a castawa

nd cheeks blood-veined to a purplish tinge that spoke not only of wind and wea

ng at the table, seemed

that noisy, smoke-filled dive. There was but one occupant who looked capable of a desperate enterprise-th

htly familiar. It brought to his mind the Revenue Service and a second l

ed at the door of the Blubber Room through which two m

e, by his nasal undertones and tobacco-stained goatee. The other man was half the weight of the first, thin, alert, w

ures, their pea-jackets, and their peculiar habit of always l

aw that they had fallen under the hidden observation of the sa

paid for it with his last dollar. He sipped the liquid slowly, pretended to

ot long

nced meaningly toward the woman at the piano and the waiter

his chair, thought better of the action, dropped back, thrus

the lamps flickered and almost went out. The piano's t

events, an oath from the waiter, a curse upon somebody, a

he Blubber Room; bottles struck the walls; the light went

ised himself and attempted to turn the knob, but it would not budge. He heard behind him the shrieks of the woman and the thud of many

o had stood by the piano, lay face upward with the hilt of a seaman's

" a seaman cried. "Somebody'

he Ice Pilot felt that he was the centre of suspicion.

pping from the locked door he went to the woman and knelt by her sid

a voice that Stirling recogni

craftily, and, after a brutal laugh and a shar

d her-she just fe

ad vanished. He square-set his shoulders,

r the polic

grasped his sturdy arm

ould I

ed the woman

her. Let's all help carry th' body ou

d him the soft step of the piano-player

his voice. "Help me out of th' mess, matey. Let's set Thed

e second-lieutenant. He moved to this man's side and was going

thrust in the mouth of a wine bottle

at does everybody say? Th' police will pinch us a

at woman!" dec

om his pocket, and threw back the bolt of the lock. He looked out into the val

e carry Thedes

services. Stirling hesitated, but again he felt the urge

man's feet under his arm, the waiter and a seaman supporting

"We'll go along and see what happens.

Bering Strait t

d him after the trio who had carried the woman out upon

I got something to say to you-af

g-covered Bay, but again Eagan guided him on. They seized hold of a painter that wa

ds close together. A seaman rowed skilfully, and the sharp-prowed boat cut through the sho

boots. He glanced down and lifted his fe

There's no plu

pping bilge muck. The man at the oars dug the blades deep into th

and heard a ship's bell striking. He motioned for the oarsman to ro

t ran over a ship's rail at the waist. He nudged Eagan and went hand-over-hand upw

y much alive-were standing on the thwarts. Eagan and the

ife from her breast, toss it overboar

at merged in the fog, and finally was gone ba

ah for t

ly, jol

or th' grog

your tin with th' l

brimy ocean you