No Good Deed 29

The noise the Captain made, on waking from his stupor, would more likely have been heard on a whaler - rather than a run-down riverboat like the Grand Turk. Slowly he came to himself. I found it quite amusing to see the sniff of disgust at his realisation that he had befouled himself.

'Northrup?' he croaked. 'Did y'all... were y'all....'

On seeing my smile, he turned his head away. His voice - if anything - was more feeble still when he said,

'Go on over to the bell-board.'

I looked about, scanning the walls of the cabin.

'It's at the bed head.'

It was a cheap deal board affixed to the cabin wall, within easy reach of anyone lying abed. There were six brass bell pulls. Crude poker work lettering was visible beneath each one. Most were marked as one might have expected, 'Pilot', 'Engineer', 'Galley' and the like. It was quite clear that I was to operate the last bell pull, since it was marked 'Bilhah'. The Captain remained supine on the cabin floor, groaning from time to time. Presently there was a knock at the door. Upon opening it, I was greeted with the sight of the most beautiful woman I had seen in many years. She bore a large ewer of water, evidently heated judging by the steam rising from it, and in the other hand a large ceramic bowl piled high with white towels.

'Who in hell're you?' she said. I stumbled over any reply, but it mattered not.

'Huh! Northrup,' she went on. 'Well, you sure don't look the biggest toad in the puddle, mistuh! An' that seven-by-nine vest don't fit at all.'

She shouldered me aside, calling over her shoulder, 'shut the door, why doncha?' I thought I had never seen a better refutation of the argument for the inferiority of the Negro race.

Bilhah knelt at the side of the Captain, inspected the bumps on his cranium and peered at the damage to his tongue. The groans subsided to a contented purr. The woman began removing the Captain's outer garments. She turned to me,

'Mistuh Northrup, ah need some clean clothin' heah.'

I went over to the chest, selecting a pair of trousers, a shirt and a coat at random. Bilhah gave me a look she might have given a particularly dull infant.

'Underclothin' too.'

A look down at the Captain revealed that his hand-maiden was in the midst of removing a rather prettily ribboned - if soiled – pair of lady's bloomers from his person. On returning to the chest, I selected the least frivolous garment I could find.

A glance out of one of the portholes revealed nothing but a darkening sky. The accumulation of clouds was rapid and their motion across the sky itself equally so. I turned to look at the flag on the wall more closely, but it was of as little interest to me as the flag of Wallachia. I heard the clearing of a throat and turned toward the others.

'Ah, Mistuh Northrup, ah trust there is such a thing as a confidence between friends?' the Captain said.

Bilhah, meanwhile, held my gaze with her own.

'Of course, Captain Grey. Might I call you Holden? In fact there may be a little difficulty you could help me overcome.'

He cleared his throat again, 'Guess so.'

'I'm sure the young lady has the laundry to see to, Holden.'

At which, said young lady let out a sound resembling nothing so much as the hiss of a disturbed snake and departed; hesitating only to grapple with the door, rather than beg my assistance.

'Well, Captain,' I said, 'the little difficulty is a corpse in my cabin.'

I derived great pleasure from the look of shock which appeared but fleetingly on his face, before he replied;

' 'Zactly so, Mistuh Northrup: one hand washes the other, don't they say?'

'Indeed,' I said, denying myself the opportunity to observe that somewhat more than his hand had but recently been washed by another's.