"You wonder why I am called Surly Joe, sir? No, as you say, I hope I don't deserve the title now; but I did once, and a name like that sticks to a man for life. Well, sir, the fish are not biting at present, and I don't mind if I tell you how I got it."  
The speaker was a boatman, a man some fifty years old, broad and weather-beaten; he had but one arm. I had been spending a month's well-earned holiday at Scarborough, and had been making the most of it, sailing or fishing every day. Upon my first arrival I had gone out with the one-armed boatman, and as he was a cheery companion, and his boat, the Grateful Mary, was the best and fastest on the strand, I had stuck to him throughout. The boatmen at our watering-places soon learn when a visitor fixes upon a particular boat, and cease to importune him with offers of a sail; consequently it became an understood thing after a day or two that I was private property, and as soon as I was seen making my way across the wet, soppy sand, which is the one drawback to the pleasure of Scarborough, a shout would at once be raised for Surly Joe. The name seemed a singularly inappropriate one; but it[Pg 232] was not until the very day before I was returning to town that I made any remark on the subject. By this time we had become great allies; for what with a bathe in the morning early, a sail before lunch, and a fishing expedition afterwards, I had almost lived on board the Grateful Mary. The day had been too clear and bright for fishing; the curly-headed, barefooted boy who assisted Joe had grown tired of watching us catch nothing, and had fallen asleep in the bow of the boat; and the motion, as the boat rose and fell gently on the swell, was so eminently provocative of sleep that I had nodded once or twice as I sat with my eyes fixed on my line. Then the happy idea had occurred to me to remark that I wondered why my companion was called by a nickname which seemed so singularly inappropriate. Joe's offer to tell me how he obtained it woke me at once. I refilled my pipe,—an invariable custom, I observe, with smokers when they are sitting down to listen to a story,—passed my pouch to Joe, who followed my example; and when we had "lighted up" Joe began:
 
"Well, sir, it's about twelve years ago. I was a strong, active chap then—not that I aint strong now, for I can shove a boat over the sandbar with any man on the shore—but I aint as active as I were. I warn't called Surly Joe then, and I had my two arms like other men. My nickname then was Curly; 'cause, you see, my hair won't lay straight on my head, not when it gets as wet as seaweed. I owned my own boat, and the boys that worked with me[Pg 233] warn't strangers, like Dick there, but they were my own flesh and blood. I was mighty proud of the two boys: fine straight tough-built lads was they, and as good-plucked uns as any on the shore. I had lost their mother ten years, maybe, before that, and I never thought of giving them another. One of 'em was about twelve, just the size of Dick there; the other was a year older. Full of tricks and mischief they was, but good boys, sir, and could handle the boat nigh as well as I could. There was one thing they couldn't do, sir—they couldn't swim. I used to tell 'em they ought to learn; but there, you see, I can't swim myself, and out of all the men and boys on this shore I don't suppose one in twenty on 'em can swim. Rum, aint it, sir? All their lives in the water or on the water, seeing all these visitors as comes here either swimming or learning to swim, and yet they won't try. They talks about instinks; I don't believe in instinks, else everybody who's got to pass his life on the water would learn to swim, instead of being just the boys as never does learn. That year, sir, I was doing well. There was a gentleman and his wife and darter used to use my boat regular; morning and afternoon they'd go out for a sail whenever it warn't too rough for the boat to put out. I don't think the old gentleman and lady cared so much for it; but they was just wrapped up in the girl, who was a pale, quiet sort o' girl, who had come down to the sea for her health. She was wonderful fond of the sea, and a deal o' good it did her; she[Pg 234] warn't like the same creature after she had been here two months.
 
"It was a roughish sort of afternoon, with squalls from the east, but not too rough to go out: they was to go out at four o'clock, and they came down punctual; but the gentleman says, when he gets down:
 
"'We have just got a telegram, Joe, to say as a friend is coming down by the five-o'clock train, and we must be at the station to meet her, she being an invalid; but I don't want Mary to lose her sail, so will trust her with you.'
 
"'You'll take great care of her, Joe, and bring her back safe,' the mother says, half laughing like; but I could see she were a little anxious about lettin' her go alone, which had never happened before.
 
"'I'll take care of her, ma'am,' I says; 'you may take your oath I'll bring her back if I comes back myself.'
 
"'Good-by, mamma,' the girl says as she steps on the plank; 'don't you fidget: you know you can trust Joe; and I'll be back at half-past six to dinner.'
 
"Well, sir, as we pushed off I felt somehow responsible like, and although I'd told the boys before that one reef would be enough, I made 'em put in another before I hoisted the sail. There warn't many boats out, for there was more sea on than most visitors care to face; but once fairly outside we went along through it splendid. When we got within a[Pg 235] mile of Fley, I asks her if we should turn, or go on for a bit farther.
 
"'We shall go back as quick as we've come, shan't we, Joe?'
 
"'Just about the same, miss; the wind's straight on the shore.'
 
"'We haven't been out twenty minutes,' she says, looking at her watch; 'I'd rather go a bit farther.'
 
"Well, sir, we ran till we were off the brig. The wind was freshening, and the gusts coming down strong; it was backing round rather to the north too, and the sea was getting up.
 
"'I a'most think, miss, we'd better run into Filey,' I says; 'and you could go across by the coach.'
 
"'But there's no danger, is there, Joe?'
 
"'No, miss, there aint no danger; but we shall get a ducking before we get back; there's rain in that squall to windward.'
 
"'Oh, I don't care a bit for rain, Joe; and the coach won't get in till half-past seven, and mamma would be in a dreadful fright. Oh, I'd so much rather go on!'
 
"I did not say no more, but I put her about, and in another few minutes the squall was down upon us. The rain came against us as if it wanted to knock holes in the boat, and the wind just howled again. A sharper squall I don't know as ever I was put in. It was so black you couldn't have seen two[Pg 236] boats' length. I eased off the sheet, and put the helm up; but something went wrong, and—I don't know rightly how it was, sir. I've thought it over hundreds and hundreds of times, and I can't reason it out in any sort of form. But the 'sponsibility of that young gal weighed on me, I expect, and I must somehow ha' lost my head—I don't know, I can't account for it; but there it was, and in less time than it takes me to tell you we were all in the water. Whatever I'd ha' been before, I was cool enough now. I threw one arm round the gal, as I felt her going, and with the other I caught hold of the side of the boat. We was under water for a moment, and then I made shift to get hold of the rudder as she floated bottom upwards. The boys had stuck to her too, but they couldn't get hold of the keel; for you know how deep them boats are forward, drawing nigh a foot of water there more than they does astern. However, after a bit, they managed to get down to'rds the stern, and get a hand on the keel about halfway along. They couldn't come no nigher, because, as you know, the keel of them boats only runs halfway along. 'Hould on, lads!' I shouted; 'hould on for your lives! They'll have seen us from the cliff, and 'll have a lugger out here for us in no time.'
 
"I said so to cheer them up; but I knew in my heart that a lugger, to get out with that wind on, would have to run right into t'other side o' the bay before she could get room enough to weather the[Pg 237] brig. The girl hadn't spoken a word since the squall struck us, except that she gave a little short cry as the boat went over; and when we came up she got her hands on the rudder, and held on there as well as she could with my help. The squall did not last five minutes; and when it cleared off I could look round and judge of our chances. They weren't good. There was a party of people on the cliff, and another on the brig, who were making their way out as far as they could on the brig, for it were about half-tide. They must have seen us go over as we went into the squall, for as we lifted I could see over the brig, and there was a man galloping on horseback along the sands to'rds Filey as hard as he could go. We were, maybe, a quarter of a mile off the brig, and I saw that we should drift down on it before a boat could beat out of the bay and get round to us. The sea was breaking on it, as it always does break if there's ever so little wind from the east, and the spray was flying up fifty feet in places where the waves hit the face of the rock. There aint a worse place on all the coast than this, running as it do nigh a mile out from the head, and bare at low water. The waves broke over the boat heavy, and I had as much as I could do to hold on by one hand to the rudder, which swung backwards and forwards with every wave. As to the boys, I knew they couldn't hold on if they couldn't get onto the bottom of the boat; so I shouted to 'em to try to climb up. But they couldn't do it, sir; they'd tried already, over and[Pg 238] over again. It would ha' been easy enough in calm water; but with the boat rolling and such waves going over her, and knocking them back again when they'd half got up, it was too much for 'em. If I'd ha' been free I could have got 'em up by working round to the side opposite 'em, and given them a hand to haul them up; but as it was, with only one hand free, it took me all my time to hold on where I was. The girl saw it too, for she turned her face round to me, and spoke for the first time.
 
"'Let me go, please,' says she, 'and help your boys.'
 
"'I can't do it,' said I. 'I've got to hold you till we're both drowned together.'
 
"I spoke short and hard, sir; for, if you'll believe me, I was actually beginning to hate that gal. There was my own two boys a-struggling for their lives, and I couldn't lend a hand to help 'em, because I was hampered by that white-faced thing. She saw it in my face, for she gave a sort of little cry, and said:
 
"'Oh, do—do let me go!'
 
"I didn't answer a word, but held on all the harder. Presently Bill—he was my youngest boy—sang out:
 
"'Father, can't you get round and lend us a hand to get up? I can't hold on much longer.'
 
"'I can't help you, Bill,' says I. 'I've given my promise to take this young woman back, and I must keep my word. Her life's more precious to her[Pg 239] father than yours is to me, no doubt, and she's got to be saved.'
 
"It was cruel of me, sir, and altogether unjust, and I knew it was when I said it, but I couldn't help it. I felt as if I had a devil in me. I was just mad with sorrow and hopelessness, and yet each word seemed to come as cold and hard from me as if it was frozen. For a moment she didn't move, and then, all of a sudden like, she gave a twist out of my arms and went straight down. I grabbed at her, and just got hold of her cloak and pulled her up again. She never moved after that, but just lay quiet on my arm as if she was dead. Her head was back, half in, half out of the water; and it was only by the tears that run down sometimes through her eyelids, and by a little sob in her breast, that I knew that she was sensible.
 
"Presently Bill says, 'Good-by, father. God bless you!' and then he let go his hold and went down. Five minutes afterwards, maybe, though it seemed a week to me, Jack did the same.
 
"There we was—the girl and I—alone.
 
"I think now, sir, looking back upon it, as I was mad then. I felt somehow as that the gal had drowned my two boys; and the devil kept whispering to me to beat her white face in, and then to go with her to the bottom. I should ha' done it too, but my promise kept me back. I had sworn she should get safe to shore if I could, and it seemed to me that included the promise that I would do my[Pg 240] best for us both to get there. I was getting weak now, and sometimes I seemed to wander, and my thoughts got mixed up, and I talked to the boys as if they could hear me. Once or twice my hold had slipped, and I had hard work enough to get hold again. I was sensible enough to know as it couldn't last much longer, and, talking as in my sleep, I had told the boys I would be with 'em in a minute or two, when a sound of shouting quite close roused me up sudden.
 
"Then I saw we had drifted close to the brig. Some men had climbed along, taking hold hand-in-hand when they passed across places where the sea was already breaking over, and bringing with them the rope which, as I afterwards heard, the man on horseback had brought back from Filey. It was a brave deed on their part, sir, for the tide was rising fast. When they saw I lifted my head and could hear them they shouted that they would throw me the rope, and that I must leave go of the boat, which would have smashed us to pieces, as I knew, if she had struck the rocks with us. Where they were standing the rock was full six feet above the sea; but a little farther it shelved down, and each wave ran three feet deep across the brig. They asked me could I swim; and when I shook my head, for I was too far gone to speak now, one of 'em jumped in with the end of the rope. He twisted it round the two of us, and shouted to his friends to pull. It was time, for we weren't much above a boat's length from[Pg 241] the brig. Three of the chaps as had the rope run down to the low part of the rock and pulled together, while another two kept hold of the end of the rope and kept on the rock, so as to prevent us all being washed across the brig together. I don't remember much more about it. I let go the boat, sank down at once, as if the girl and I had been lead, felt a tug of the rope, and then, just as the water seemed choking me, a great smash, and I remember nothing else. When I came to my right senses again I was in a bed at Filey. I had had a bad knock on the head, and my right arm, which had been round the girl, was just splintered. They took it off that night. The first thing as they told me when I came round was that the gal was safe. I don't know whether I was glad or sorry to hear it. I was glad, because I had kept my promise and brought her back alive. I was sorry, because I hated her like pison. Why should she have been saved when my two boys was drowned? She was well-plucked, was that gal, for she had never quite lost her senses; and the moment she had got warm in bed with hot blankets, and suchlike she wanted to get dry clothes and to go straight on to Scarborough in a carriage. However, the doctor would not hear of it, and she wrote a little letter saying as she was all right; and a man galloped off with it on horseback, and got there just as they had got a carriage to the door to drive over to Filey to ask if there was any news there about the boat. They came over and slept there, and she went[Pg 242] back with them next day. I heard all this afterwards, for I was off my head, what with the blow I had got and one thing and another, before I had been there an hour. And I raved and cussed at the girl, they tell me, so that they wouldn't let her father in to see me.
 
"It was nigh a fortnight before I came to myself, to find my arm gone, and then I was another month before I was out of bed. They came over to Filey when I was sensible, and I hear they had got the best doctor over from Scarborough to see me, and paid everything for me till I was well, but I wouldn't see them when they came. I was quite as bitter against her as I had been when I was in the sea drowning; and I was so fierce when they talked of coming in that the doctor told them it would make me bad again if they came. So they went up to London, and when I could get about they sent me a letter, the gal herself and her father and mother, thanking me, I suppose; but I don't know, for I just tore 'em into pieces without reading them. Then a lawyer of the town here came to me and said he'd 'struction to buy me a new boat, and to buy a 'nuity for me. I told him his 'nuity couldn't bring my boys back again, and that I warn't going to take blood-money; and as to the boat, I'd knock a hole in her and sink her if she came. A year after that lawyer came to me again, and said he'd more 'structions; and I told him though I'd only one arm left I was man enough still to knock his head off his shoulders,[Pg 243] and that I'd do it if he came to me with his 'structions or anything else.
 
"By this time I'd settled down to work on the shore, and had got the name of Surly Joe. Rightly enough, too. I had one of them planks with wheels that people use to get in and out of the boats; and as the boatmen on the shore was all good to me, being sorry for my loss, and so telling my story to people as went out with them, I got enough to live on comfortable, only there was nothing comfortable about me. I wouldn't speak a word, good or bad, to a soul for days together, unless it was to swear at anyone as tried to talk to me. I hated everyone, and myself wuss nor all. I was always cussing the rocks that didn't kill me, and wondering how many years I'd got to go on at this work before my turn came. Fortunately I'd never cared for drink; but sometimes I'd find my thoughts too hard for me, and I'd go and drink glass after glass till I tumbled under the ta............