Getting impatient for baseball season to start? Have a touch of spring fever? Want to get away from it all? We offer you escape. You are in mid-ocean, aboard a drink ship. Already nine men have died, and you know that some malignant force has aimed at you, from which you cannot escape. Escape, designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. Tonight, we escape to the North Atlantic in the year 1900, and to a sailing ship whose very name struck dread in sailors' hearts, as Joseph Conrad told it in his famous story, The Brute. You could never tell it just by looking at her, proud and strong and beautiful on the outside. You couldn't see the black heart inside of her, and you'd never know she'd killed at least a dozen men, and maybe more. But I knew her, knew her for the murdering she-devil she was. I saw the day she killed her first one, and I was there too, when she finally made a big mistake, and killed the wrong person. But that was a long time later. Oh, she had a name all right, but after that first day, her first killing, nobody with the family ever used it again. Everyone else from that day on would look at her half afraid and half snarling, and they called her The Brute. I remember I was 14 the day my father took me down to the South Thames boatyard to watch the launching of the ship. My brother Charlie was there, of course, eight years older than me and very proud of his one gold stripe, and I was glad that he'd be made an officer on the Aps line. Charlie and father were talking. I just stood and listened to them and didn't say much of anything myself. Look at her, Dad. Ever see a ship in your life with lines like that? I bet she'll outsell any clipper in the China trade. Well, that remains to be seen, Charlie. How soon are they going to launch her? Any minute now. I'd give her a lot to be sailing on her, instead of on the Malcolm Aps. Well, the Malcolm's a good ship, son, as good a ship as any the Aps family owns. I'm glad enough to be through apprenticeship and get my commission, but even at that I'd almost rather be a boson on this ship than a bird made on the Malcolm. I understand that Colchester's to be her captain. Yes, that's right. Oldest commander with the Aps and Sons line. Look at the size of her, Dad. She's a full 2,000 tons. Less half a ton, Charlie. Oh, good morning, Mr. Jamin. Hey, Mr. Wilmot. Hello, Ned. How do you do, sir? No, Charlie, she came to 1,999 and a half when we measured her up. Well, 2,000 tons or not, Mr. Jamin, you'll never build a better ship than this one. I don't know, Charlie. I built her the way Mr. Aps wanted her. She's big and she's stout, but I don't know. And what's your reason for saying that, sir? No reason that makes any sense. By the devil's own time with her, cabin doors jamming when they shouldn't, etched covers that wouldn't fit after they'd been measured up, blocks fouling for no reason at all. I don't know, Mr. Wilmot, but if she were a human being, I'd say that maybe she's insane. Oh, come now. You've been working too hard, Mr. Jamin. Better take a vacation now that she's finished. Well, I could certainly use... I say, that's Maggie Colchast up there, the captain's niece. Is she going to do the christening? That's right, Charlie, and I'd better get down below now. My own men are going to knock the stays loose and let her slide down into the water. Well, good luck, Mr. Jamin. Thanks, Mr. Wilmot. Come on board for the celebration after she's lodged. Bring the boys. Fine, thank you. We should be there. Let her go any minute now. Dad, I'm going to sail on that ship some day. Oh, you'll probably sail on a lot of Aps-line ships before you're through, Charlie. Look, they've given Maggie the champagne now and she's going to Christmas. Yes, Mr. Colchast. I christened the Aps family. The Aps family. So that was their naming, eh? All right, men, knock out the stairs. Let her go. Look, Dad, she's started to move. There she goes. Yes, and look at that speed. I never saw that. Jamin, look out! Good Lord, he fell right into the waves and she went over him. He didn't fall. A timber rolled off the deck and knocked him under. She slid right over him, Mr. Jamin, the man who built her. She's rancid in blood, if that means anything. She's a brute and a murderess now, Charlie. Still think you'd like to sail on her? If it was an accident, it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps not. I'll sail on her some day, sooner or later. I will sail on her. Well, the way things worked out, I was the one to sail on her first, instead of Charlie. He'd gone on out to the Orient aboard the Malcolm. And six months later, when I started my apprenticeship, I found the company had assigned me to report to Captain Colchester the Appes family, or the brute, as everybody was calling it privately. But some calm had mixed up in the sailing orders. And by the time I came on board, a tug already had a line on the big sailing ship and was starting to ease her stern first out into the channel. All right now, ease ahead there. Pick up the slack. Captain Colchester was at the tapirle shouting orders to the tug captain, and the mates were forward somewhere, handling the check line. You've got the slack now. Fall away! I stood at the waist, waiting for a chance to report in, and watching a young fellow about my own age, who was doing something or other upper loft on the mizzenmast above me. The tug had drawn the line out taut, but the ship hadn't started to move yet. You've got no way on her yet. Turn your engine up to full speed. The tug was churning the water to froth, and the hoser was tight as a bowstring, but we still didn't move. Keep her up! Hold her out towards the rudder. Then suddenly the ship gave a lurch and started back like a bucking horse. The men foraged at no chance to ease the check, tech cable, and a second later it snapped. The ship plunged on back and then sheered off, which brought up a smash against the pier head that knocked me sprawling on the deck. And at that moment... The lad who'd been working a loft on the mast crashed down onto the deck, not ten feet away from me, and he lay there without moving. Give a hand up here on my waist, mate. Young Hawkins just fell out of the tops. Hey. That's too bad. Is he dead, Captain Colchester? He's dead, boy. Now get a hold of yourself. Don't stand there trembling. You never seen anybody die before? Yes, sir. On the day they launched this ship. Oh, Jermaine, eh? You're young Ned Woolmer, I suppose, the new apprentice. Yes, sir. I no doubt you may have heard this ship called by an unpleasant name once in a while. Yes, sir. The brute. Well, you'll be kind enough to remember while you're aboard that her name is the Appes family, and she's had her share of accidents the same as any other ship. Is that quite clear? Yes, sir. Now get along forward with her and stow your gear away on the folksail. You'll take over young Hawkins' duties for the time being. Yes, sir. I sailed aboard the brute for the next four years and watched her kill nine men during the time. We got so we tried to out-guess her, tried to figure out how she'd do it the next time. But no matter what we think, we never were right. And it wasn't only the killing. It was everything. Most ships have little ways all their own, and you learn about them and allow for them. Ah, but not her. She was like a crazy woman. You never knew what she'd do next. I remember once off the Gold Coast, she ran before a gale for two days as pretty as you please. And then broached two twice the same afternoon, flung the hens and cleaned over the wheel the first time, and the second time swamped herself fore and aft and split out every stitch of canvas. And after we got the decks cleaned up, we found one seaman had gone overboard. He was her fifth, I guess it was, or maybe the sixth. Oh, she was beautiful. The Abbs family was. Big and proud and beautiful. And along with it, a killer. A black-hearted, sea-going brute. My brother Charlie was on the China run all that time. First on the Malcolm and later on the Lucy Abbs. But we never happened to hit port on the same time. Finally, the time of my apprenticeship was up. I was doomed into London at the end of the trip. I went before the board for my papers. I guess they figured anybody who could stay alive for four years on the brute must be a seaman. Anyway, I passed, and Mr. Abbs handed me my sailing orders along with the commission. I was assigned as third mate to Captain Colchester on the Abbs family. Well, congratulations, and I'm glad you're going to stay with us. Thanks, Captain Colchester. You've been a hard-working apprentice, and I've no doubt what you'll be a good officer. In fact, we have a man on board who'll make sure of that. Why? What do you mean, Captain? Got a new first mate on this trip. Come in, Charlie. Charlie? Well, hello there, youngster. I say you've been doing a bit of growing the last five years. Charlie, I didn't even know you were in port. Been in for a week down country, though. I hear you fooled the board. Careful, man, you're talking about your own third mate. Yeah, so they tell me. You'll be jumping lively on this trip, me boy. Easy, easy. Don't forget I know this ship, and you don't. I'll learn it quick enough. Been wanting the chance for a long time. And between us, I think we can even break this jinx. Lads, there'll be no talk of a jinx on this trip. At least not in the cabin as long as Maggie's going along. Maggie? Who's Maggie? Ask your brother. I think he's the one who talked her into the trip. Although she claims it's for her health. I'll leave you two to get acquainted. We'll be about ten days loading if you've got any plans. What's he talking about, Charlie? Who's Maggie? His niece, Maggie Colchester. You remember her, the girl who christened the ship? Of course. Ollie, you're not... Hasn't Dad told you where I've been spending shore leaves for the last year and a half? No, Charlie, I didn't know anything about it. Well, then let me show you something. Here. Now, if I have my way, Maggie'll be wearing this before the trip's over. Here, take a look. Blimey. That's all right. Yes, I bought it in Cape Town. It's a blue-white diamond set in platinum. Is it big enough to go in a finger? Oh, it's big enough, all right. And that's where it's going if I can talk her into it. And who's going to talk who into what, Charlie? Maggie, I was saying that... I hoped I could talk you into going ashore for dinner with me. Oh, where you now? You big liar. Oh, Maggie, this is my brother Ned. Ned, this is Maggie. How do you do? And are you one of the officers, too? I'm the new third mate. Well, I certainly hope you're more truthful than your brother... Maggie. ...whose invitation to dinner I am accepting with pleasure. Oh, really? See you both later. All right, sure. About an hour. Charlie, she's lovely. She's more than that, Ned. She's everything as far as I'm concerned. Well, in that case, good luck. I hope you get her. We'll see about that. Anyway, with Maggie aboard, we've got to make sure this... jinx ship stays on good behaviour for once. It'll be the first time if she does. Well, it's the first time we've had both the Wilmots on board together. We'll tame her down, Ned. We'll make her calm and peaceful as an old workhorse. Just you wait and see if we don't. And the strange part of it was... he was right. We stood out past Gravesend and made the passage to the China coast... in 121 days of the finest weather you could ever hope to meet. And for the first time in her bloody life... the old ship settled down and sailed herself... as neat as you please. Charlie and I had talked about it sometimes when Maggie wasn't around. He'd always laugh and say the brute knew when she'd met her match... that she didn't dare try to buck the two of us. Well, I was more ready to give the credit to Maggie... to think maybe she'd charmed the old murderess... the way she'd charmed all the rest of us. From the second day out, Maggie was the secret darling of every man on board. She was all over the ship, here, there and everywhere... with red tam and her bright blue eyes, never still a minute... and having the time of her life. If she'd come along for her health... she'd found it before we passed Gravesend. We raised a storm on the passage back and ran four days in a heavy gale. I stood by and held my breath, ready for anything and nothing happened. The old lady, App's family, held up her head and sailed along like a seagull. Any time before she'd have buried her gunnel in the quartering seas... and now all the water she shipped you could put in a teacup. 109 days from Hong Kong we raised the dungnest light... and early the next morning picked up a tug of sheerness... for the long tow upriver to London. The ship followed along on the tow line like a puppy on a leash... and we moved slowly up the river past Gravesend. All of us were glad to be home, but Maggie, most of all, I think... because she'd never been at sea so long before. I had to smile at the way she danced around in the bows... picking out one landmark after another as we came to them... sometimes standing up on the spare anchor we'd taken in on the foredeck... in order to get a better look at the riverbanks ahead. She wasn't wearing the ring yet, but I knew she was going to... and was only teasing Charlie as long as possible. What's wrong, Ned? That tug stopped her engines. Collision up ahead in the channel, Charlie. Looks like a yawl and a schooner... fouled together. Yes. Well, looks like they're clearing it up now. Guess we can move again in a couple of minutes. Maggie, why don't you go on to the afterdeck? You're on the way up forward there. Oh, I'm all right, Charlie. Stop worrying. We're almost home. Better save your orders for the crew, Charlie. She outranks you. I'll take orders from her any day. Yes. We are almost home, Ned. We've had a lucky voyage. Yes, the first halfway peaceful trip I've ever made in the old brute. Oh, I told you we'd tear her down. She's turned over a new leaf, Ned. Well, it won't last long if she keeps on shearing off there... and drifting back down the channel. Huh? Oh, yes. We're heading straight for those fishing smacks. Better have the tug start up and hold a taut line on her. I've seen her do this before. Ahoy, the tug! Take up the slack and get her straight in the channel. Hold her against the current. Any other ship would have held steady for the two or three minutes we'd stopped. But not the old rap's family. And now when the tug tightened up in the halter, pulling at an angle across her bows, she wouldn't respond, wouldn't budge. The old girl wanted her own way. She was just as stubborn as ever. Ahoy, the tug! We're still drifting. Open up to full speed. Confounder. Never saw a ship act like this. The heavy hoser was pulled so tight it was humming, and tug's pedals with her engines full whipped up the water like a mill race. And then it happened. The heavy towing chalk tore loose from the deck. The hoser began sliding across the bow, ripping out rail stanchions like matchsticks. And I thought I was going to sweep under the crux of the spare anchor, the anchor that Maggie was standing on. Maggie! Get off that anchor! Look out! Charlie! She tried to jump clear, but she was too late. The great anchor had tipped up on its side, clasped her about the waist like a monstrous arm of steel. It had curried her with it, and swung down and over and smashed against the side of the ship. She went into the water. Take charge of the deck, Ned. I'm going in after her. Ned! Ned, was that Maggie? Yes, sir. She's overboard, Captain Colchester. Maggie! Oh, the dirty murdering brute! Now it's women she's killing! Let go, the poor dagger! Hold the ship as she is and get the boats over! I hadn't told Charlie, and I didn't say anything about it to Captain Colchester. But I stood there, and I knew it wasn't any use, because I'd seen the way the heavy anchor had carried her over, and then swung in to smash her against the bow before it dropped her into the water. And I'd seen the way that water beneath the bow was all coloured red. They found her at late afternoon when the tide turned, and she floated clear of one of the mooring boys. And the next morning, we tied up in the London docks. The men had been happy at coming into their home port, but now they remembered how she'd been happy too, their own darling. I'd never before seen a cruel evil ship so quietly, and some of them, when they reached the wharf, turned back and cursed her under their breath. Finally, it was only Charlie and I, alone on the quarter deck, and Captain Colchester was below, somewhere in the cabin. She never wore it, Ned. The ring? She never wore it. But she would have, Charlie. I know she meant to. She was just having a little fun with you, that's all. With all of us on board, why did the brute have to go for Maggie? Why? I guess there's not much answer for that. She was everything I wanted. Everything. Yes, Charlie, I know. I talked her into making the voyage. It was my idea. It's no good, Charlie, this kind of thinking. I guess you know that. I don't know. She was everything I wanted. Charlie, I... Over here, Captain. I'm going ashore. The shipkeeper's come aboard now. The two of you are free to go whenever you like. Thank you, sir. Charlie, I... Nothing. I'm resigning Commander in the morning. I'll never sit foot on board her again as long as I live. I feel the same way, sir. Well, come into the company office in a day or two and sign out for the log. Good day, gentlemen. Charlie, we'd better go ashore, too. We're done here. Yes, I... I suppose we are. I'll arrange to have our gear picked up later. There's no use of... Captain, look out! Missed him! That yard arm off the main mast fell right behind him. Ah, you missed me, you murdering brute! And that was your last chance! Ned, Ned, that yard was made fast and dungunous. An outfall's under the tops with the ship lying still at the wharf. Yes, Charlie. Come on, let's go ashore. Wasn't the devil satisfied for one trip? Is there no way of stopping her? How many more does she want to kill? Charlie! Oh, Ned. Ned, take me home. Charlie was ten years older by the time we reached home, and it was two weeks before he'd do anything more than sit in his room and stare at the wall, saying nothing. Captain Colchester carried out his threat and resigned from the company the morning after we docked, and I filed my application for a transfer. The app's family was reloaded and ready to sail, but she stayed on lying at the wharf with nobody to take her out. And that's the way things stood for two weeks until one morning a bombshell dropped. Hello, Ned. Charlie! I wondered where you went this morning. Well, I left the house early. How do you feel? Fine. Ned, Mr. Apps tells me you've applied for a transfer. Another ship. Well, yes, I did, as a matter of fact. You saw old man Apps? Yes, I stopped in at the office this morning. Ned, it's up to you, of course, but I hope you'll change your mind. Not a chance. The ship sails tomorrow morning. Oh, so they finally found somebody crazy enough to take her out. Yes, they did. Me. You? You're going to skip with the brute? That's right, Ned. But I... It's a short voyage, North Atlantic run. We're awfully glad to have you along. Somebody I can depend on if you feel like signing on again. Charlie! Of course, it's up to you. All right, Charlie. I'll sign on again. Be glad to. We boomed out past the sureness light and headed north, hugging a lee shore in a stiff breeze. The ship drove ahead as steady as a barge, with scarcely a roller or quiver. But in spite of the smooth and easy way she handled, I couldn't help feeling uneasy. I could sense the black spirit of her, brooding somewhere down inside, mocking and taunting us with her bloody memories and waiting for a new chance. By nightfall, we were running hard in along the Kettering Coast, where those rocky headlands break at intervals out of the shelving sandy beaches. The onshore wind held steady in our quarter, and the sun sank down behind the land some three miles away. It wasn't quite full dark yet when Charlie sent for me. I came up to where he was standing alone near the wheel. Is that you, Ned? Right, Charlie. Boson said he wanted to see me. Yes, I did send for you, Ned. Hardest steady issue go. It's close to the wind. Aye, sir. I've been standing here thinking about Maggie, Ned. How she scrambled around over the decks, making friends with everybody, having the time of her life. Charlie, you've got to stop it. No, I'm all right. I like to think about her. It's this ship and all the memories around it. It's what I was afraid of. No, no, it's all right. Ned, I want you to take charge of the crew and give an order. Of course, you'll question the order, but you'll carry it out anyway. Do you understand? What's... what's the order, Charlie? Have all hands prepare to abandon ship. What? But why? There's nothing wrong. Mr. Wilmot, it is not an officer's place to question an order by the captain. You'll do as you're told. Yes, sir. You can give the order now, Mr. Wilmot. Charlie, I can't let you... Very well, Captain. All hands on deck. Stand by the boats. Prepare for abandon ship. All right, heronsmen, find your place at the boats. I'll take over the wheel. Aye, sir. You don't know what you're doing, Charlie. We're in no danger. There's no reason to abandon ship. You're always in danger aboard this black-hearted brute. I'll put on the quarter now. You can get the boats in the water when she heals. Three on. Steady! Going on the quarter! Easy on. All right. Now. All hands! Lower boats! We shouldn't have any trouble running ashore to that beach there at the south. Hey, what about you? I'll hold her steady until everybody's clear. You'd better go over the side. Your boat's standing there. Oh, no, not until you do. I'm staying with you, Charlie. Don't be a fool, Ned. I'm doing this alone. No, Charlie, not while I'm here. Mr. Wilmot, you will abandon ship and take charge of the boats in the water, and that's an order. Charlie, I can't... Mr. Wilmot! Very well, Captain. That's the spirit, lad. Learn to obey orders and step lively, and you'll be a seaman yet. Good luck, Ned. Thanks, Charlie. I'll stand by for you in the boat. Of course, lad. Fine. Bye. I slipped over the gunwale and dropped down into the boat that trailed alongside on a line from the rail. I'd hardly hit the bottom when the line slackened. I knew Charlie had cut us loose from the ship. He was alone on an ove, alone in the night sea, with a black brute. Look, sir, look! He's laid it over, away from the wind! Charlie had put the helm over hard, with a terrible shudder of her dark sails and a smother of white foam from her bows. The great ship healed about in a sharp turn and then began to drive ahead like some mad king before the wind, straight before the wind and straight toward the shore. Look, sir, the rocks on the headland! She's going to smash herself! Faster and faster she plunged her head through the weltering seas, faster and faster on the back of the gale while the black-hearted spirit of her screamed in the rat line. Look, sir, the rocks! What in the name of heaven is he going to do? And now, for one long instant, she hung poised at the top of a plunge and drove, smashing downward, onto the rocks! We stood by, as close as we dared, for three hours, while the killer ship hounded herself to bits in the surging sea. But we didn't find my brother Charlie. And from the first minute, I knew we wouldn't. Because just before I'd left the ship, I'd seen the ship's because just before I'd left the ship, there by the helm, in the light of the binnacle lamp, I'd seen the thing he was holding, clenched tight in his hard, brown fist. It was a tiny platinum ring set with a blue-piped diamond. Escape is produced and directed by Norman MacDonald and tonight brought to you The Brute by Joseph Conrad. Adapted for radio by Les Crutchfield, featuring Dan O'Hurley as Ned Wilmot and Eric Rolfe as Charlie Wilmot, with Nina Carlton as Maggie, Jeff Corey as Captain Colchester, Wilms Herbert as German, and Parley Bear as the father. Music is conceived and conducted by Wilbur Hatch. Next week... You are far into the remote hill country of Afghanistan, caught in an ambush by the fierce Pathan tribes, trapped in a hopeless fight from which there seems no escape. Music Next week, we escape with Rudyard Kipling's gripping story, The Drums of the Foreign Earth. Good night then, until the same time next week, when once again we offer you Escape. Music This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System. Music
