Jim began haltingly, for he had held it all back for so long, but every detail was burned in his brain and soon the words came flowing out, as if he were reciting a passage leant by heart. When he had finished he found his fists clenched, his whole body taut, tears in his eyes. MacDougall sat in silence. Perhaps he didn't believe the story. "Don't you see?" said Jim. "The log being damaged explains everything. Cameron thought the log-reading was the one thing he could rely on when everything else was doubtful. He was quite right to think that. But instead, it was worse — far worse — than useless. Isn't it millions to one against a log getting damaged while it's running?"
"Ay, I suppose so."
"Then where's Cameron's fault? Why shouldn't he believe it? White and Brodie did, after all."
"Ay, so did I, lad, so did I."
"Well, what did you think when she went on the sand? Did you think the log had been damaged by driftwood or something?"
"Ay." There was a strange far-away look in MacDougall's eyes. "To tell ye the truth, I didnae think much about it at all. Here, get me another dram if ye've any money left. I've none."
When Jim came back the other man drained the full glass with an absent-minded gulp and stared out unseeing across the room. "No, laddie," he said, "I didnae think much about the log. I'd got other things on my mind. D'ye know what, laddie? You and me are two poor swabs in the same boat — like a couple o' mongrels with tin cans tied to our tails."
Jim was dumbfounded by the confession. He had been so sure for so long that he was alone to blame. So that was why Dougie had looked so odd when Jim said Cameron was not to blame.
Dougie went on, speaking with a calm bitterness. "D'ye mind that half-an-hour before she struck, you and Brodie relieved me? And d'ye mind that ye were both all out to catch a sight o' the Sunk lightship?"
"Group flashing two every twenty seconds," said Jim mechanically.
"Ay, that's the one. Well, laddie, ye're going to get a big shock. I know now that about twenty minutes before ye came on deck I saw the Sunk."
Jim felt a prickling sensation spreading across his scalp as his jaw dropped uncontrollably. MacDougall looked up quickly and gave a short grunt of bitter laughter: "Ah, ye see! It's your turn now to have a shock. You're not the only poor devil that's been going round with a bad conscience."
"But what happened? Why on earth didn't you tell us?"
"Och well, it sounds bad enough now, after what happened, but I — well, I just couldn't be bothered. At the time it didnae seem to matter. The weather was clearing — I thought ye'd soon get a proper fix. And how was I to know about — eh — about what ye've just told me?"
"You tell me your story, Dougie. Get it off your chest."
"Ay, well, as I say, it was about twenty to twelve, pitch-black and still snowing, ye remember. I'd had a few pulls at my wee black flask — did ye know about that? Ay, I thought so. Well, for all that, I was chilled to the marrow and sick to death o' the whole damned thing — the ship, Cameron, White and the rest of ye. Then up comes one of the look-outs: 'Excuse me, sir," he says, "but I'm thinking I saw a light out there to starb'd.' So I looked and I looked, and in the end, I just caught a tiny wee flash on the beam, and then I thought I saw another straight after. But I couldnae be sure, what with the snow, and the whisky, and my eyes not being what they were. We both kept looking out there on the same bearing, but there wasnae another glint o' light. So, being the most dirty, lazy, drunken, child-murdering old devil that ever called himself a sailor — what did I do, laddie? What did I do? Nothing! Nothing!" He covered his face with his hands; his shoulders shook and tear-drops trickled through his fingers.
Jim crossed hastily to the bar, ignoring the astonished looks of the sleek shopkeepers and their wives. An utter silence fell on the bar parlour, except for the sobs of the small tough old seaman in the corner. The look on Jim's face checked the sneering remark on the landlord's lips. When Jim got back to Dougie with the refilled glasses he had recovered himself again.
"Thank ye, laddie. I need it. Och, I bet these folk in here are wondering what's blown in tonight!"
"Never mind about them. What happened then?"
"Well, I went down and looked at the chart, but — not knowing about the other business — I couldnae make any sense of it. I couldnae see any light for miles on that bearing. I was just wondering whether to get the Old Man on deck when I heard Brodie coming. So I thinks to myself: 'Och, he's a smart young feller — mebbe he'll see it. I want to get out of this awful wind. Why should I get the wee Cameron strutting up here and have to miss my sleep while he havers about ? A fine mood he'll be in, too, the cocky old swab.' So I just went below, Jim." He raised his haggard face to look Jim in the eye. "I just went below, and said nothing. All those poor wee bairns were tossed into that cold, cold sea because a useless old drunk..."
"All right, Dougie, all right. As you said yourself — how were you to know? It isn't all on your shoulders any more. There's two of us now, two mongrels with tin cans. Look, what about going home? It's getting late."
They made their way silently to the door, watched with the greatest relief by the landlord and his respectable customers. As the door closed behind them the tension eased and a hubbub of conversation began.
The lamplit streets were quiet, for the pubs had not yet driven out their customers. Soon Dougie halted outside the door of a dingy sailors' lodging-house, and glanced up at its yellow brick walls and grimy windows. "Yon's the dirty flea-ridden hole where MacDougall the huffler lives," he said. "Come on up. I've a wee bit in a flask and some bits of bread and cheese."
MacDougall's room contained nothing but a crude wooden bed with a straw mattress, a table, a ruin of a cane-bottomed chair, and a cupboard with no doors. From outside came the puffing and whistling of shunting engines, and the curious jangling music of lines of trucks striking each other as they were jerked up and down the goods yard. "Yon row goes on all night," said Dougie. "Ye get used to it. Cut yourself a lump o' bread and cheese while I find the wee flask." To do this he lifted a loose board of the bare floor, thrust his arm into the hole, and groped round for a while. "What d'ye think of that for a wine cellar, Jim? There's no locks on the doors, ye see, and some queer folk about."
They munched in silence for a while, sitting side by side on the bed. Then Dougie said: "Ye've not told me yet how ye got away. Ye weren't in the boats. What about White and Brodie and the rest of the hands? All gone?"
"Aye, Dougie, all gone but me — the most useless."
"Yon Brodie now — he was a grand wee feller, a grand feller. What happened to you, then?"
He sat silent as Jim told his strange story, raising his eyebrows and whistling in astonishment as Jim told of Jordan's looting of the safe, and of the salvagers.
"Aye," he said, as Jim ended his story, "I've heard about the salvagers. They've an awful bad name hereabout. From what ye say of these three you're with, I'm thinkin' it's no sort o' life for a smart, decent wee feller the like of you. Where's the future in that ? Why don't ye sling your hook — tell them to go to blazes?"
"I might do that. But what then? I can't go back to the Company."
"No. Ye're like me there. This place is not a bit too far away from Edinburgh for me. But ye're young and strong — ye've got a good head. Ye could get a berth anywhere."
"Up to now I haven't wanted anything else. Now, knowing there's two of us — somehow I don't feel so bad."
"Two of us, laddie? I was thinking o' that as we came along. There was more than two, Jim. What about the Old Man for a start, eh? He was so damn keen on a fast trip, and so pleased with himself, he acted like a madman all along, not heaving to or reducing speed. And another thing — he knew well enough what sort o' watch-keeper I was. Did ye not wonder how an old wreck the like o' me got a berth in a brand-new ship? Well, I'll tell ye. Do ye mind a feller called McTaggart, the Company Chairman? And do ye mind that he had an awful pretty young wife — his second, y'see? Well now, what ye didn't know is this — the new Mrs McTaggart is my brother Hector's lassie. I kept on at her about doing her old uncle a good turn — and there ye are! She can twist old McTaggart round her little finger, and ye mind how the Old Man was nearly falling down to lick the Chairman's boots. And that's how a lazy drunken old hulk gets a Third Mate's job on the finest ship in Scotland. So that makes four of us, laddie. And what about White and Brodie, even? They knew about me too, as I daresay ye know. Why did they not report it ? I'll tell ye, laddie — it would have meant them taking my watches all the way to Australia. So they kept quiet, and the wee bairns and their mothers paid for it that morning." He turned slowly to face Jim. "When ye come to weigh it up, laddie," he said, "we're nowhere near so important as we thought we were."