The White Hunter Page 11

  Annie found the Englishman quite captivating. He talked freely with her and seemed to have no inhibitions. He smiled cherubically from time to time and seemed to have been everywhere and done everything. Finally he looked up and said, “There. Now they’re finished with that dance. I think I’ll dance with Miss Quintana myself, if you will introduce me.”

  “Certainly,” Annie said but with some alarm. She did not know what Jeanine would say to such a straightforward man as Churchill. The couple approached, and Clive Winters said, “Oh, Mr. Churchill. Good to see you, sir.”

  “Ah, Winters. Good to see you.”

  “May I introduce Miss Jeanine Quintana.”

  “I’m happy to know you, Miss Quintana,” Churchill said, bowing from the hips. When Jeanine put out her hand, he kissed it.

  “I see you’ve met my companion, Miss Rogers.”

  “Yes. I forced my attentions upon her. I do that with every attractive young woman I meet—or so my wife says.”

  “Your wife’s not with you, Sir Winston?” queried the young man.

  “No. She’s confined. So I’m dancing with all the pretty young ladies tonight. May I have this next dance, Miss Quintana?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Churchill.” Jeanine cocked her head to one side and said, “What is your position, may I ask?”

  “Why, he’s the new Lord of the Admiralty, Miss Quintana,” Clive Winters said quickly.

  “And I’m trying my best to get this young man into the naval uniform before he throws his life away on something useless. Come along. I’ll tell you all about his bad habits while we dance.”

  Jeanine Quintana liked Churchill. It was obvious from her smile, and she allowed herself to be led back onto the dance floor. It soon became obvious that Churchill was not as good a dancer as Winters.

  “Well, Miss Rogers, you’re going to have to help me,” said Winters.

  “Help you? How can I do that, Mr. Winters?”

  “Why, it’s obvious that your employer is going to be besieged by men. I want you to put in a good word for me.”

  Annie smiled first, then laughed aloud. “That would hardly serve your purpose, Mr. Winters. Miss Quintana does not take my advice on anything.”

  “Oh, come now!” he protested. “I’m sure that isn’t so. She must have confidence in you if she hired you as her companion.”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Well, come, let’s dance and you can tell me about it.”

  “I would rather not, if you don’t mind, sir.”

  Somewhat surprised at the refusal, Winters replied, “Well, of course. I’ll tell you what. We’ll get some more refreshments, and I’ll show you some of the pictures in the gallery. You haven’t seen them, have you?”

  “No, sir, I haven’t.”

  “Good. I’ll show you the pictures, and you can tell me the way to Miss Quintana’s heart.”

  Not at all content with this bargain, she still found Winters an attractive young man and followed him into the gallery of the mansion. She was fascinated by the large collection of paintings. He seemed to be familiar with all of them, and the artists who had painted them, and had many anecdotes to tell concerning their creations. When they went back to the ballroom, they were met by Churchill and Jeanine.

  “So you’ve taken this young woman off, have you, Winters? Shame on you!” Churchill growled. He looked somewhat like a bulldog, but there was a friendly light in his eyes.

  “Not at all, sir.” Winters spoke cheerfully, then stepped closer to Jeanine, saying, “I believe the next dance is ours.”

  “I think I promised it to some other gentleman. What was his name?”

  “Admiral Croft. You don’t want to offend an admiral if you’re going into the navy, Winters.”

  The foursome stood there speaking for some time, and it was Churchill who mentioned that the largest ship in the world was about to be launched, although it would be another year before it was ready to sail.

  “That will be quite a sight. I’m going to see it myself,” Clive Winters remarked.

  “Where is it?” Jeanine asked.

  “In Belfast. Tremendous ship! The biggest in the world.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing that myself.”

  “Well, let me invite you to our party,” Churchill said. “My wife will be glad to meet you and your companion.”

  “And I’ll be glad to accompany you also, sir,” Winters added quickly.

  “Oh, you would? Can’t wait for an invitation, eh?”

  “You might never give it, Sir Winston,” he answered cheerfully. “I can afford to be a little bit demanding now because you want something out of me. Once you get me into a uniform, I’ll be under your absolute command.”

  “All right, then. Have it your own way. It will be next Thursday. That’s the thirty-first, isn’t it? Last day of May?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “I’ll have a carriage for you. We’ll travel together at the expense of the navy.”

  “What’s the name of the ship?” Jeanine asked.

  “The Titanic,” Churchill nodded firmly. “Biggest in the world. Quite a sight to see.”

  “It is going to be interesting,” Winters agreed. “It’s a ship that can’t be sunk, you know.”

  Annie shook her head slightly, but Churchill caught the motion. “Why, Miss Rogers, I don’t believe you are in agreement with Clive about this.”

  “I am no expert on ships, Sir Winston, but any ship can be sunk, can’t it?”

  “Not this one,” Winters answered. “She’s got watertight bulkheads all along the side. If one of them gets punctured, or two, or three, or four, you get water in those, but it doesn’t get into the rest of the ship.”

  Annie somehow felt uncomfortable. “I grew up on a ranch in America. There’s a saying there: ‘Never was a horse couldn’t be rode, never was a cowboy couldn’t be throwed.’ ”

  Churchill burst out into laughter. “By george,” he beamed, “I like that! Let that be a lesson to you, Winters. Never was a horse couldn’t be rode . . . !”

  Winters nodded and then shrugged. “Never was a cowboy couldn’t be throwed.” Nevertheless, there was a streak of stubbornness in the young man, and he said, “But this is one ship that can’t be sunk. I’ve talked to the builders about it, sir. You ought to look into this for your warships in the future. Those watertight tanks, they’re the thing.”

  The evening lasted until very late, and when the two women left, Churchill turned to Winters and warned, “Watch out, my boy. There’s a lee shore ahead.”

  “A lee shore? You mean a dangerous one, Sir Winston?”

  “Yes. I’m surprised you don’t see it. But you’re a young man.”

  “You mean Miss Quintana. She’s a beautiful woman.”

  “And so are shores sometimes beautiful, but they contain hidden rocks. No, my boy. Find yourself a plain English wife. You must have a home, and there can only be one commander in a home, and with that young woman, she would be it!”

  “You may be right, sir,” Clive Winters replied, but there was a denial in the warmth of his blue eyes, and he grinned as Churchill chided him for being charmed so easily. “Don’t worry about me, sir. The Titanic is unsinkable and no woman is unwinnable.”

  ****

  As the party approached the docks in Belfast, Annie was more interested in her employer and her attitude toward Clive Winters than she was in the largest ship in the world they had come to see. In the few days since they had met at the ball, Clive Winters had pursued Jeanine Quintana in a most determined fashion. Flowers were delivered every day with cards and letters, and somehow he had persuaded her to go out with him every night.

  Winters and the two women had been separated from Sir Winston, who would be standing at the bow of the ship when it was launched. Now Winters was positioning them into a vantage point so they could get a glimpse of the ship. He held Jeanine’s arm in a familiar fashion, Annie noticed, and as he spoke there was an excitement in h
is voice.

  “There’s no ship like this one. It’s eight hundred and eighty-two feet long, ninety-two and a half feet in the beam. It has a gross tonnage of forty-six thousand tons.”

  Jeanine was very much aware of Clive’s grip on her arm. It gave her a puzzled, secure feeling. She had been entertained at first by the young Englishman’s determination and had gone out with him for her own amusement. She had soon discovered, however, that there was a real strength beneath the noble manner of the young man. She was always drawn to men of strength, and the fact that he had a title made him even more attractive. Now as they stood pressing against each other in the crowd, she remembered how he had taken her in his arms and kissed her when he had left her last night. It had not been the first time she had been kissed, for she knew men very well, but somehow this had been different. She had been shaken, and although she had not shown it, she found herself drawn to him more than she could ever remember being drawn to a man.

  Clive put his arm around Jeanine’s waist and said enthusiastically, “Look at that gantry.”

  “What’s a gantry?” Jeanine asked.

  “All those beams and hoists overhead that put all the steel into place. It’s the biggest gantry in the world. And look at the way the ship’s going to slide down. It took twenty-two tons of tallow and soap to lubricate it just for the ship to slide down it!”

  “Tallow and soap?” Jeanine asked with surprise.

  “Well, there’s an enormous amount of weight on those beams. Look, they’re going to start now!”

  Even as Winters spoke, the ship seemed to move slightly. There was something magnificent about the enormous size of it. It seemed to Jeanine as she watched that it would never float. It was as if a mountain were moving. Winters informed them that the momentum was checked by three anchors connected by seven-inch steel hawsers to eye plates riveted into the hull. With a sigh the massive ship eased itself into the water, the whole process taking only sixty-two seconds.

  “Well, that’s done,” Jeanine announced brightly. “Now I’ll be ready to take a cruise on her.”

  Winters laughed and shook his head. “Not for a time you won’t. It will take at least ten or twelve months to get her fitted out.”

  “Then I can wait,” Jeanine said. She suddenly took Winters’ arm and directed, “Come now. We’re going to explore Belfast. You’re going to show me all the sights.” Turning to Annie, she asked, “Would you like to come along, Annie?”

  “No, thank you. I believe I’ll do a little exploring of my own.”

  “Well, don’t wait up for us. We’ll be late.”

  “Very well,” Annie smiled. “Have a good time.”

  An uneasy feeling ran through Annie Rogers as she watched the two stroll away. Jeanine was smiling at Clive and clinging to his arm possessively, and a premonition came sweeping through Annie’s mind. She thought of what Churchill had said about Jeanine not making a good wife for a naval officer, but she also saw that there was a stricken look in Clive Winters’ bright blue eyes. He was captivated by the beauty of this woman, and Annie was afraid that nothing good would come of it.

  She explored Belfast that afternoon, then went out and dined alone at one of the restaurants on the wharf, enjoying fresh lobster for the first time. She made her way back to the hotel room and settled into it, but part of her was thinking about her employer—and Clive Winters. The hours rolled on, and finally she went to bed a little past midnight. She could not sleep and she found herself praying for Jeanine, but she had difficulty with the faith to believe. Fitfully she drifted off to sleep and had strange dreams. They were interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing. Rising up to rest on her elbow, she looked at the clock and saw that it was just past six o’clock, and she knew that Jeanine and Clive had spent the night somewhere else. A heaviness came to her then, and she lay back and once again tried to pray for Jeanine. She’s headed for a terrible fate. She doesn’t know God and neither does Clive, apparently. He’s going to be badly hurt over this.

  For a long time she lay there, then finally she rose and dressed. When she went out into the drawing room that separated the two bedrooms, she found Jeanine’s door closed, as she had expected. She went down to breakfast, but as she closed the door of the drawing room, a fatal sense of almost despair seemed to settle on her. God had given her a great love for Jeanine Quintana, although it had not been returned. As she moved along toward the elevator, she prayed, “God, help them both, for they’re going to need it!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Meeting Mary Weatherford

  Sitting on the bench beneath the towering pillar of Admiral Lord Nelson, Annie looked up and studied the statue on top. She could not make out the features clearly, but she had heard so much about Nelson during her ten months in England that she felt a certain admiration for the man. White clouds drifted by, forming a background for the upright figure against the blue sky, and for a time she allowed herself to think of the life of the greatest naval hero of England or, perhaps, of all time. She had read of his victories, but she had also read of his tragic personal life and a sadness came to her. “For a man to have such honor in life from kings,” she murmured, “and to have no more wisdom nor judgment about his personal life is sad.”

  She had come early, as she did frequently these days, sitting outside the British Museum. She had been fascinated by the British Museum and had explored every floor of it time and time again. The vast collection of ancient artifacts from around the world fascinated her, especially the section filled with Egyptian treasures. The mummies somehow seemed to draw her. They looked almost like dolls, brown and wrinkled, and she thought, These were once filled with warm blood and they were alive. They loved someone and were loved. They hated. They had to find God or else lose it all. They were just like me, and now this is all that’s left.

  She had managed to get Jeanine to come with her to the museum for one visit. But Jeanine had merely laughed and said, “Who wants to look at dead things, Annie? I’m going to spend my time with live people while I have the chance.”

  Now as Annie lowered her eyes from the towering spire that formed the Nelson monument, she studied the huge carved lions that even now were decorated with children who climbed over their backs. She thought of Jeanine and her affair with Clive Winters. The young nobleman was infatuated with her. Annie had never seen anything like it. Winters came from a noble family that was horrified, she had understood, at their son’s mad pursuit of a wealthy and worldly American woman. But Winters ignored the sound advice of everyone, including the Lord of the Admiralty, Sir Winston Churchill. Annie had encountered Churchill twice at social events, and both times he had growled, looking more like a bulldog all the time, saying, “That young fellow Winters is a fool! Your employer may have many fine qualities, but she’s not the one for him.”

  “I don’t think she’ll marry him,” Annie had said.

  “I hope not. These affairs often rage with some vehemence for a while and then pass away, leaving the sufferer weak.”

  As she sat on the bench, Annie shook her head and took out her writing pad and pencil. She began a letter to Jeb, dating it March 20, 1912, noting again with almost a shock that she had spent nearly a year in England.

  My dearest Jeb,

  I am sitting in Trafalgar Square as I write this letter, under the statue of Lord Nelson. I come here very often to visit the museum, but lately to watch the people. However, my heart is somewhat confused today. God is not the author of confusion, so I must have created it myself. As I have told you before, I felt that God was in my becoming a companion for Jeanine. It seemed very clear to me that His will was for me to do this, but after many weary months of trying to see some reason in it, I fail to find any.

  She looked up to see a young man who had come to sit beside her. He was wearing a pearl gray suit with a very flamboyant red tie and a derby perched on the back of his head.

  He grinned and said, “Hello, miss. Doing your homework?”


  “Just writing a letter.” Annie had had this happen before. She was often approached by such scoundrel young men, and she recognized another looking for an easy conquest.

  “You see those lions over there?”

  “Yes. I see them.”

  “You know the story about them, don’t you?” The young man’s eyes twinkled. “Every time a virgin passes by, they roar.” He winked roguishly and said, “They ain’t roared in a long time now, babe. How about you and me stepping over to the pub and having a bite?”

  “No, thank you. But I have something for you.”

  “Something for me! What’s that?”

  Quickly Annie reached down into the leather case she carried her writing notebooks in and withdrew a tract. “Here. It’s this. You’ll notice the title of it is How to Become a Child of God.”

  Startled, the young man’s mouth fell open. He took the tract automatically and stared at it, then scowled. “What are you? Some kind of a preacher?”

  “Just a believer in Jesus. Why don’t you let me go through it with you? You need Jesus in your life just like we all do.”

  “None of that! None of that!” The young man rose hastily and glared at her. “Why don’t you join the Salvation Army and beat a big drum like the rest of them crazies?” He threw the tract toward Annie, but the wind caught it and sent it on its way.

  As the young man whirled on his heels and started marching away, disgust in every line of his figure, Annie called out, “Don’t forget! Jesus loves you!” She did not hear his reply, if he made any, but smiled and went back to her letter. She had found out the quickest way to quench unwelcome advances was to begin witnessing and to hand out a tract. To her surprise, three times the young men had not been rebuffed but had shown a sincere interest in the Gospel. Two of them had actually prayed with her and made a confession of their faith in Jesus. She had invited them to the Metropolitan Tabernacle, the local church she attended in London, and they had come and followed the Lord in baptism. Since then she had become good friends with both of them.