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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/39349-8.txt b/39349-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a1148b2 --- /dev/null +++ b/39349-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9831 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wyndham's Pal, by Harold Bindloss + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Wyndham's Pal + +Author: Harold Bindloss + +Release Date: April 2, 2012 [EBook #39349] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYNDHAM'S PAL *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +[Illustration: It looked as if the Mulatto knew this. _Page 82_ +_Wyndhams Pal._] + + + + +WYNDHAM'S PAL + +BY HAROLD BINDLOSS + +AUTHOR OF "_The Buccaneer Farmer_," "_The Girl from Keller's_," +"_Brandon of the Engineers_," _etc._ + +[Illustration] + +WITH FRONTISPIECE + +A. L. BURT COMPANY +Publishers New York + +Published by arrangement with Frederick A. Stokes Company + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY +PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND UNDER THE TITLE "WYNDHAM'S PARTNER" + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +PRINTED IN U. S. A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART I--THE LURE OF AMBITION + + CHAPTER PAGE + I THE COMMODORE'S CUP 3 + II MOONLIGHT AND GLAMOUR 14 + III CHISHOLM'S PERSUASION 26 + IV THE MAN WHO VANISHED 35 + V THE TORNADO 45 + VI THE MIDDLE PASSAGE 54 + VII THE TOW 64 + VIII THE LAGOON 74 + IX DON FELIX'S REVOLT 85 + X MARSTON USES HIS POWER 97 + XI MARSTON GOES TO SEA 107 + + +PART II--WYNDHAM CLAIMS HIS REWARD + + I MABEL PONDERS 121 + II MABEL'S PEARLS 131 + III PETERS' OFFER 142 + IV THE LOST EXPLORERS 152 + V WYNDHAM CHANGES HIS PLAN 161 + VI PETERS RENEWS HIS OFFER 171 + VII WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY 180 + VIII UP HILL 190 + + +PART III--REPARATION + + I WYNDHAM PAYS DUTY 203 + II MARSTON GETS A WARNING 213 + III WYNDHAM TRIES PERSUASION 223 + IV WYNDHAM FINDS A CLEW 232 + V DON LUIS' BREAKFAST PARTY 242 + VI A SAIL IN THE DARK 251 + VII THE TUG 260 + VIII AT THE MISSION 271 + IX _Columbine_ STEALS AWAY 280 + X THE BAT OWNS DEFEAT 288 + XI THE BAT'S EXIT 299 + XII THE FRESH START 308 + + + + +WYNDHAM'S PAL + + + + +PART I + +THE LURE OF AMBITION + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE COMMODORE'S CUP + + +The breeze had dropped as the tide ebbed, and _Red Rose_ plunged +languidly across the shining swell. Faint mist obscured the horizon and +the yachts engaged in the fifty-mile race had vanished, although Wyndham +thought he had not long since distinguished a sail in the distance. He +was curious about this because if he had seen canvas it was _Deva_'s, +and her skipper had probably seen _Red Rose_. The rest of the fleet was +scattered about to the north. Wyndham had noted their positions +carefully before the haze rolled up. He wanted to win and meant to leave +nothing to chance. + +In the meantime, the yacht crept slowly through the sparkling water, +close-hauled to a light wind that Wyndham knew would not last. Her +canvas, tapering in a tall white pyramid, swayed with a regular heave +against the sky. In her shadow, the sea was a cool, luminous green, but +the sun was hot and Wyndham had taken off his coat. He wore a white +jersey, blue trousers, and very neat white shoes. His age was +twenty-six, his figure was thin but athletic, and the molding of his +face was good. On the whole, he was a handsome man and was generally +marked by a careless, twinkling smile. The smile, however, was to some +extent deceptive, and at times his blue eyes were hard. Wyndham was +popular; he had a way of inspiring confidence, and knew and used his +talent. + +Marston, who sat on the yacht's coaming, splicing a rope, trusted +Wyndham far. Marston's round face was burned red and generally wore a +look of tranquil good-humor; his mouth was large and his eyes were calm. +People thought him dull and he was not clever, but Wyndham knew his +comrade's stability. Although Bob was honest and trustful, he was firm. +It was characteristic that the splice he slowly made was very neat. + +Their paid hand was occupied at the clanking pump, for _Red Rose_ had +shipped some water while the breeze was fresh. This was not remarkable, +since the boat was small, but Wyndham knew, though Marston did not, that +a quantity of water had come in between her working planks. She was old +and needed repairs Wyndham could not afford. For all that, he hoped to +win the Commodore's cup. He had particular grounds for wanting the cup, +and Wyndham's habit was to get what he wanted. + +"I think the splice will stand," Marston said, throwing down the rope. + +"Your work does stand," Wyndham remarked. + +"Oh, well," said Marston, deprecatingly, "I'm slow, but I like a good +job. Saves time in the end, because you needn't do the thing again." + +"You're a philosopher, Bob. My plan is generally hit or miss. But can +you see _Deva_?" + +Marston searched the horizon. The gently heaving sea was empty and _Red +Rose_ alone in a misty circle three or four miles across. Except for a +few razor-bills, nothing but the ripple she trailed broke the reflection +of the calm sky. Then his glance, traveling north, stopped and fixed on +something faintly distinguishable against the thin mist. + +"No," he said, "I don't see her. Thought I did some time since but she's +faded. What's that in the distance on our starboard bow?" + +"It's hard to tell. Might be a big black-backed gull resting on the +water. The misty light magnifies things." + +"Shall I get the glasses?" + +"Not unless you want them. They're under the stuff we stowed away in the +locker aft. If Charley has finished pumping, you might help him get out +the spinnaker. We'll have the wind fair when the flood begins to run." + +Marston and the fisher-lad vanished down the forecastle hatch, and +Wyndham studied the distant object. He did not yet need the sail the +others had gone for, but he was afraid of Charley's keen eyes. A buoy +indicating a shoal was not far off and the sailing directions for the +race stated that all marks of this kind must be kept on the port hand, +but Wyndham knew the coast and imagined the tide was still ebbing in a +neighboring river mouth. The main stream ran north and would carry the +boats off their course, but near the shore another stream ran west +across some wide shoals. If he could steer _Red Rose_ into this current, +it would help her on while her rivals, farther off the land, drifted +back. When the others came up with the sail Wyndham wondered whether +Marston would ask for the chart, but he did not. The object they had +seen had vanished, for although the wind was light the boat slowly +forged ahead. The color of the smooth undulations indicated that the +depth got less. + +"Looks as if we were near West Hodden sand," Marston remarked. "They had +a dispute at the committee about keeping us outside the bank. Makes a +longer run, but some of the deep boats might have touched bottom if +they'd tried to cross at low-water. Anyhow, it doesn't matter, so long +as we all keep out." + +Wyndham nodded and began to talk about something else. + +"I hope we'll get fine weather, because I need bracing up. When you have +not much money, business is a grind and I'm rather young to carry the +responsibilities of the house. Things might have been easier, had Jim +Wyndham not died two or three days after he fell ill." + +Marston knew something about this. Wyndham Brothers was a small +old-fashioned firm and Harry had recently taken control on his uncle's +sudden death. James Wyndham was extravagant and Marston imagined he had +left his affairs involved. Marston had no occupation and all the money +he needed. Moreover, he was Harry's friend. + +"Well," he said, "if you're short of capital, I think some could be got. +Sound investments don't pay much, and now and then I feel I'd like a +venture." + +"You're a good sort, Bob. For all that, you had better leave business +alone, because you would get robbed. Of course, if I saw a safe and +profitable speculation, I might let you join, but just now I'm occupied +trying to put things straight. Some are badly tangled. I used to think +I could carve my way to fortune if I got a chance, but so far it's been +my luck to use broken tools." + +Marston thought this was so. Harry was a good shot and racing skipper, +but he had never had a first-class gun or boat. Still, he used the +make-shifts well and sometimes beat better men. + +"Yours is a pretty old house, isn't it?" Marston remarked. + +"Wyndhams' was founded in the days of the slavers and privateers and has +traded in West Africa and South America ever since. The house was +famous, but its decline began when steamers knocked out the sailing +ships. We stuck to the old vessels and own one or two small schooners +yet, though they're only used for collecting cargo at beaches steamboats +do not touch. Some of the documents I've recently studied tell a +romantic tale. The Wyndhams were all adventurers and a number did not +die in bed. One or two vanished abroad. As perhaps you know, my uncle +Rupert did." + +"I heard something about this," said Marston. "What happened?" + +"Nobody knows. He left the West Indian factory; sailed off in a canoe +and was not seen again. Books and money were in order and his health was +pretty good. There was no explanation; he vanished, that's all. I saw +him once in England and thought him a sober business man. One got no +hint of wildness, but the house's records indicate a vein of romantic +extravagance in my ancestors. For all that, my father was a quiet +country parson and I have felt nothing of the kind." + +Marston pondered. He knew Harry Wyndham rather well and had noted, in +moments of excitement and strain, a curious recklessness that was +perhaps not altogether normal. For example, there was the race when _Red +Rose_ and another yacht met close-hauled. _Red Rose_ was on the port +tack, and the rule was she must give way, but, until the last minute, +Harry sat unmoved at the tiller. Marston remembered the piled-up foam +about the plunging hulls as the yachts converged, the slanted pyramids +of sail that looked as if they must shock, and the horrible tension he +had felt. Then, when collision was imminent, Wyndham gave the other room +and afterwards laughed. + +"I was tempted to find out how it would feel if we rammed her," he +confessed. + +This, however, was some time since, and Marston did not dwell on the +incident. His temperament was essentially normal. + +"No sign of a breeze from the east yet," he said. + +"All the same, it will come," Wyndham rejoined. + +Marston looked about. The sun was getting low and it was nearly calm. +Now and then the topsail flapped and the mainsail hung slack. Blocks +rattled as the heavy boom jerked about. The swell was smooth and in +color a curious shining green, as if the light were reflected through it +from beneath. It looked as if they were crossing a big sand, but Marston +did not sound. Harry knew the coast, and the sailing directions required +them to keep outside the shoals. + +In the distance a steamer's smoke trailed across the sky; one heard her +engines beat with a monotonous rhythm. In front, the mist was melting +and vague gray hills were faintly distinguishable. The yacht's deck was +damp, but for the rolling she hardly moved. + +"We had better get some food," said Marston. "I'll light the stove." + +He went to the cabin and when, after the rude meal, they lounged and +smoked, the mist suddenly rolled away. Long hills, with woods among +their folds, ran back on the port hand; in the distance, a big black +headland cut against the sunset. The water astern was hazy and dotted by +sails. It was now a glassy calm. + +"We're nearer the coast than I reckoned, but the ebb has given us a big +lift," Marston observed. + +"The rest are a long way back, although I think they're moving." + +"They've got the breeze and will bring it up," said Wyndham. "Hoist the +spinnaker." + +For the next few minutes Marston and the paid hand were occupied with +the big triangular sail, which extended from the masthead to the end of +a boom they thrust over the boat's side. A British yacht's spinnaker is +not fitted with a gaff. At first the spinnaker hung slack, but presently +lifted in gentle curves; then the water splashed against the planks and +_Red Rose_ began to move. She gathered speed. There was a humming noise +astern, mast and rigging creaked, and foam leaped at the bows. It got +cold, white ripples streaked the sea, and the wake ran back in a foaming +wedge. The spinnaker swelled like a balloon and, with the tall mainsail +on the other side, dwarfed the speeding hull. + +The sun dipped, the dark sea stood up in ridges above _Red Rose_'s rail, +spray began to fly, and one heard the rush of wind and groaning of +spars. The boat yawed about and steering needed skill, since, if +Wyndham let her swerve, spinnaker or mainsail would swing across and +mast or boom would go. For all that, he risked a glance over his +shoulder now and then. Some of the boats were coming up; they were +bigger craft and gave _Red Rose_ time by the handicap. She, however, +gave time to others, and must save it in order to win. + +Wyndham let go while the sea got rough, for the flood tide now ran +against the freshening wind. While he swayed with the tiller she plunged +and rolled about, lifting her bows out of boiling foam and sometimes +burying them deep. Water flowed across her deck and presently began to +splash beneath the cockpit floor, and Charley started the clanking pump. +A full moon had risen and two big boats, with canvas that cut black +against the silver light, were getting near. + +"I think we'll save our time," Wyndham said. + +Marston looked at the high topsail and bending spinnaker boom. He would +have liked to haul the topsail down, but his comrade's voice had a +strange gay note that he had heard before. Harry meant to carry on; he +would drive the boat until something broke. Then Marston looked ahead. +The big promontory was not far off and moonlight touched the towering +crags. The sea was all white, for the current, setting strongly round +the head, ran in angry combers against the wind. + +"We are going to get wet in the tide-race," he said. "You might find +slacker water if you edged her off a bit." + +"And sail a longer course?" Wyndham rejoined. "We give _Deva_ four +minutes and she's not far astern." + +Marston acquiesced. After all, his business was to obey. "Oh, well," he +said, "Charley and I had better get out on the booms." + +He beckoned the paid hand and they crawled along the deck. _Red Rose_ +rolled savagely and main boom and spinnaker boom tossed their ends +aloft. The spars must be kept down, lest they swing across, and Marston, +clasping the varnished pole with arms and legs, crawled out as far as he +dared. Sometimes he swung high above the combers that rushed past below; +and sometimes swung down until his body was wet by the foam. He could +hold on if Harry kept her straight, but if she swerved much the big +sails would lurch across and he and Charley would hardly escape with +broken bones. He looked aft. Wyndham's figure cut against the light; it +was tense and his head was motionless, as if his glance was fixed. +Marston knew he meant to bring _Red Rose_ in on her time allowance or +sail her under. + +They drew round the head and reeled across a bay. A row of lights began +to blink and two colored lanterns tossed. Marston saw the lights for a +few moments when the spinnaker soared away from the boom. The race was +nearly over, for the colored lights marked the flag-boat, anchored off +the long iron pier. The committee had not given the yachts much room; +perhaps they thought of their comfort and anchored the steamer near the +beach so she would not roll about. Smart work would be needed to shorten +sail before they struck the pier. + +A shadow touched the spinnaker and Marston looked astern. A swaying +pyramid of canvas shut out the moon and foam leaped about a plunging +hull. _Ptarmigan_ had crept up and would go past, but she was large and +allowed _Red Rose_ some time. Marston could not remember how much she +allowed; all he could do was to hold on, for his arms ached and his head +began to swim. A few minutes would finish the race, and he wondered +dully what would happen then. There were, perhaps, two hundred yards +between the flag-boat and the pier; they ought to haul down the +spinnaker now, but Harry would carry on. + +He saw _Ptarmigan_'s topsail tilt downwards and dark figures run about +her deck. Her spinnaker collapsed like a torn balloon, but _Red Rose_ +leaped on, pressed by straining sail. Then there was a flash, and the +report of a gun rolled among the crags ahead. They drove into the smoke, +speeding side by side with _Ptarmigan_, and the flash of another gun +pierced the dark. Marston, crawling in-board, dropped into the cockpit +as the flag-boat swept astern, and for the next few minutes he was +desperately occupied. + +The spinnaker went into the sea, the topsail thrashed half-way up the +mast, and _Red Rose_ listed until the water was deep on her lee deck. A +white sea swept her forward as they hauled down the staysail; and then, +coming round, she plunged head to wind, a few yards from the dark +ironwork of the pier. Wyndham came to help and soon afterwards they +brought her to a safe anchorage. While they stowed the sails a gig +crossed the bows and somebody shouted: "Well done, _Red Rose_! You're +first by three minutes on handicap time." + +Wyndham put on his jacket and lighted a cigarette. "Not bad for a boat I +bought because she was outclassed. Sometimes I wonder what I could do if +I had proper tools," he said. Then he laughed. "Anyhow, we had better +start the pump." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MOONLIGHT AND GLAMOUR + + +Rockets leaped up from the old castle on the narrow flat between the +woods and the strait. Colored fires burned behind the loopholes in the +ruined walls, and an admiring crowd occupied the lawn that slanted to +the water. The night was calm and when the band stopped the voices of a +choir, singing old part-songs on the pier, carried well. There was a +smell of drying seaweed, and the yachts' anchor-lights burned steadily +in rows that wavered with the eddying tide. The last race was over and +the townsfolk had given the crews a feast before the fleet dispersed. + +Marston sat on a broken wall, talking to _Deva_'s owner about the race +along the coast. Elliot was a friend of Marston's. Chisholm, the +commodore's young son, stood close by, smoking a cigarette. + +"You beat us handsomely and Wyndham deserves the cup for his pluck in +carrying on when we were forced to lower our topsail," Elliot admitted. +"Still something was due to luck; you got the last of the stream along +the shore when the tide running down the river carried the rest of us +back." + +"Wyndham has a talent for that kind of thing," said Marston. "Sometimes +you feel he, so to speak, thinks like a fish. He doesn't need to +calculate when the tide will turn and where he'll find slack water. He +knows." + +"Wyndham has a talent for getting what he wants," Chisholm interposed. +"_Deva_ ought to have beaten _Red Rose_." + +"Aren't you rather young to judge?" Marston asked, with a touch of +dryness. + +"Oh, well," said the lad, "I like a man who loses now and then. You can +understand that kind of fellow." + +Elliot frowned. He could take a beating; but he was curious and looked +at Marston thoughtfully. + +"I suppose you didn't see the Knoll buoy?" + +"We did not," Marston replied. "There was something on the water in the +haze, but it was too small for the buoy. Wyndham thought it a gull, a +big black-back; his sight is pretty good." + +"How did the thing bear?" + +Marston hesitated, because he saw where the question led, but he was +honest. + +"Nearly ahead; a point or two to starboard. Anyhow, it vanished, +although, as we didn't change our course, we must have passed the spot +rather close," he replied, forgetting that he was below when the object +vanished. + +"Then it was a gull," Elliot agreed, but Chisholm was not satisfied. + +"Elliot's a sportsman; I don't know if I am or not, because I was on +board _Deva_ and feel hurt we didn't get the cup. Wyndham's a smart +skipper, but his luck's too good. One's inclined to doubt a man who +always gets a prize. My notion is, it isn't altogether due to skill. +Besides, I think the commodore would have liked Elliot to win the cup." + +"You're not a tactful lad and perhaps you're not in very good form just +now," Elliot remarked. "We'll go along and hear the band." + +They went off and Marston lighted his pipe. He was rather angry with +young Chisholm, because he was persuaded Wyndham had not seen the buoy. +Harry was not the man to win a race by a shabby trick; Marston trusted +his friends. + +In the meantime, Wyndham and Flora Chisholm occupied a bench in a quiet +corner of the castle wall. Now and then a colored fire blazed up on the +battlements and red reflections flickered about the crowded lawn, but +there were dark intervals when they saw the water sparkle and the black +hills across the strait. When the band stopped, one heard the soft +splash of the tide, and the choir singing old Welsh airs. Flora was +young and felt the glamour of the calm moonlight night. + +Moreover, there was something strangely romantic about Wyndham. He was +handsome and marked by a dashing recklessness that rather carried one +away. Flora liked his pluck and bold seamanship. Her father was an old +navy man and the yacht club commodore, and she had inherited his love +for the sea. She had watched the finish of the race from the flag-boat, +and had seen _Red Rose_ reel past, horribly pressed by sail. Fine skill +and steady nerve were needed to bring the old boat in first. + +Perhaps this was not important, but it was typical of Harry Wyndham; he +ran risks and laughed. It was bracing to know him and flattering to feel +that he was drawn to her. Yet Flora had some doubts; after all, she had +not known Wyndham long and he had drawbacks. He was poor, some of her +friends distrusted him, and Chisholm had given hints--he approved Jim +Elliot, and Flora thought Jim loved her. When Wyndham was away she +hesitated and wondered whether she was rash; when he was near she +thrilled and caution vanished. Presently she roused herself and began to +talk. + +Wyndham got a hint of strain and his heart beat. He imagined Flora was +vaguely alarmed by his power to move her, but she did not go away. +Although her fresh beauty had first attracted him, he soon saw she had +qualities that strengthened her charm; she was proud, with a clean +pride, honest, and plucky. All the same, he was poor; his people were +known for their romantic extravagance and a touch of moral laxity. The +business of which he had recently taken control languished and had not +been very scrupulously carried on. Yet Wyndham was not daunted, and his +love for the girl was sincere. + +"Things will look different to-morrow when the boats have gone and the +little town goes to sleep again," he said. "I feel doleful. The +holiday's nearly over and soon after sunrise there'll be nothing left +but a happy memory." + +"Then you make an early start?" + +"At half ebb; three or four o'clock. One wishes the night would last. +Nights like this are not numerous." + +"You ought to be satisfied. You won the cup." + +"I meant to win. For one thing, you wished me luck." + +Flora blushed and wondered whether he could see her face. "After all, +that was not much help," she said. "My wishing you luck wouldn't alter +the wind and tide." + +"It gave me an object and a stimulus. We are a curious lot and much +depends on our mood. When one's braced enough, obstacles don't count. +One runs risks and wins." + +Flora was fastidious and got a faint jar. Yet she knew he was not a +boaster; he did what he said. Besides, she was flattered. + +"You are stopping for a few days, with the Commodore?" he resumed. + +Flora said she was and he frowned. "I must go. I ought not to have taken +the holiday, but the temptation was strong. Now I must make up for the +lost time." + +"Your new business keeps you occupied?" + +"Yes; it claims all my thought, though now and then I deny the claim. +The sea pulls and a boat's a fascinating toy; but a time comes when one +must put one's toys away." + +"For all that, you came to the regattas and won the cup." + +Wyndham smiled and, for the moon was bright, Flora noted the reckless +sparkle in his eyes. + +"You know why I came and why I won the cup," he said. "Perhaps I'm vain, +but I wanted you to see I could beat the others whose toys are all that +occupy them. I have not their luck, and my object for coming drives me +back to town. If I'm to realize my ambitions, I have got to work." + +"Then you are ambitious?" Flora remarked and looked away. + +"Very," he replied quietly. "I know my drawbacks and they must be +removed. I have inherited the responsibilities of an embarrassed house. +My job's to repair its credit, wipe out debts, and make Wyndhams' +respected, as it was respected once. A big job, but the ambition behind +it gives me driving force." + +He paused and gave her a steady look. "Your father's friends are +merchants and shipowners. You know I have much to build up and something +to live down." + +Flora was quiet for a moment or two. She had heard her friends talk +about Wyndhams' and it was plain that they thought the new head of the +house something of an adventurer. For all that, she was moved. She liked +his frankness and his resolution. Looking about, she saw Marston and a +girl she knew cross the lawn, and was tempted to join them. Had it not +been for the glamour of the moonlight and sparkling sea, she might have +gone. + +"I wish you luck again!" she said quietly. + +"Ah," he said, "that will carry me far! Farther than you think, perhaps, +because I am going away." + +Flora moved abruptly and he saw she was disturbed. + +"Where are you going? Will you stop long?" she asked, and Wyndham knew +his chance had come. Her friends might blame him, but he meant to use +his power. + +"To begin with, I'm going to West Africa, and then to South and Central +America. We have an old schooner in the Guinea coast and I expect to +sail her across. She can creep into lagoons and call at beaches the +steamers do not touch. Somebody must pull the house's vanishing trade +together and I am the head." + +"But it's a long ocean passage and an unhealthy coast," Flora remarked, +with a note of strain in her voice. Altogether she tried to be calm. + +"All the same, I must go, and go soon," Wyndham replied. + +He stopped because he knew he had said enough, and Flora pondered. She +would miss him much and his going forced her to front a crisis she would +sooner have put off. She knew he loved her and he had a strange +fascination; he stood for romance and adventure, but she was +fastidiously honest and now and then he jarred. She felt vaguely that +there was something about him she did not like. + +In the meantime, Marston and his companion came by again. The girl was a +friend of Flora's, but she passed without a glance and Flora knew she +disapproved. Somehow she wished her lover was like Bob Marston. Bob had +no fascination; indeed, he was rather dull, but he was frank and honest +and one trusted him. She knew she ought to join him and Mabel; there was +danger in stopping, but she did not go. Harry would sail at daybreak and +she would be lonely afterwards. + +Marston and the girl went on, the music stopped, and Flora heard the +drowsy splash of the tide. The moonlight sparkled on the strait and she +felt a strange longing to be rash. One missed much unless one had pluck. +Then Wyndham put his hand on her arm and gave her a long ardent look. + +"I am going away," he said. "I must go. For your sake, I must try to +mend my damaged inheritance. Will you marry me when I come back?" + +Flora hesitated until he put his arm round her and her doubts vanished. +Romance conquered and passion swept her away. She yielded when he drew +her to him, and gave back his kiss. Then he let her go as people came +towards them and they crossed the lawn. + +"My dear!" he said triumphantly. "I can conquer all my difficulties now +and make your friends approve. You have given me a power I never had; I +feel I can't be stopped." + +His eyes were very bright and he lifted his head. He looked +unconquerable and his confidence was flattering. Flora's doubts had +gone. He was her acknowledged lover and she was very staunch. + +"I must see your father when he gets back to town," Wyndham said +presently. "The committee will keep him until too late to-night." + +"Yes," said Flora with faint misgivings, "you must see him soon." + +Wyndham's eyes twinkled. "It's possible he will get a jolt. I'll own I +was half afraid; but I fear nothing now." + +"He loves me," Flora answered with a quiet look, and Wyndham said +nothing, but pressed her arm. + +They left the castle grounds for the quiet beach, and in the meantime +Mabel Hilliard and Marston leaned against the rails on the pier. For a +time the girl watched the water foam among the pillars and then looked +up. + +"Why didn't you speak to Wyndham?" she asked. + +Marston smiled. "I think the reason was plain; Harry didn't want us. Why +didn't you speak to Flora?" + +Mabel made a sign of impatience. "I wanted to, but this would have been +different. Flora wouldn't have suspected you were meddling." + +"I see," said Marston. "I'm known to be dull; but I'm not so dull that I +miss your meaning. Well, you know Harry Wyndham's my friend." + +They were lovers who used no reserve, and Mabel did not hesitate. + +"Flora's my friend," she said. "Do you always trust Wyndham?" + +"If I didn't trust him, he wouldn't be my friend." + +"In some ways, you're very nice, Bob. But I'm afraid. Flora's attracted +by Wyndham. I wish she were not." + +"Why? Don't you like Harry?" + +"It's rather that I love Flora. She's sincere and proud. She's +fastidious; I think I mean she's scrupulously honorable." + +"Then you imply that Harry is not?" Marston asked, with a touch of +sternness. + +"No, I don't altogether imply this; but I feel he is not the man for +Flora." + +"Well," said Marston quietly, "I have known Harry long. He's clever and +generous; he has pluck and when strain comes is his best. I know what +some folks think about him, and Harry knows his handicap. The Wyndhams +were rather a wild lot, the family business was drifting on the rocks, +and the character of its recent head was not good. All this is a load +for Harry, but he'll run straight, and I feel my job is to help him +out." + +Mabel was not much comforted, but she gave him a smile. + +"If he is going to marry Flora, I want you to help him," she replied. + +They went off and some time afterwards Wyndham came along the pier. The +fireworks were over and the crowd had gone, but a group of men stood +about some steps that led to a narrow stage where the yachts' boats were +moored. The tide ran fast, foaming against the iron pillars, but the +promenade above threw a dark shadow on the water. Wyndham stopped at the +steps and tried to see if _Red Rose_'s dinghy was tied among the rest. +It was too dark; all he could distinguish was a row of boats that swung +about. Then young Chisholm pushed past. + +"The weed on the steps is slippery and I'm not going down. A yachtsman +jumps into a punt," he said. + +A yacht's punt is small and generally unstable, and to jump on board +needs skill. Marston came up and seized Chisholm's shoulder. + +"Don't be a fool, Jack!" he said. "It's six or seven feet. If you don't +capsize her, you'll go through the bottom." + +"Think I can't jump six feet?" the lad exclaimed, and Wyndham imagined +he had drunk some wine at the committee supper. "Anyhow, I'll try." + +He shook off Marston's hand and leaped. His dark figure vanished and +there was a splash below. Marston and the others climbed down the steps, +but Wyndham jumped. He went under water and knew the risk he ran when +he came up; he had known when he made the plunge. The tide swept him +past the boats and broke angrily among the ironwork. One might get +entangled and pulled down, and if a punt came to help, she would +probably capsize when the current drove her against a brace. + +For a moment or two he drifted, and then saw something dark wash about +in a wedge of foam. It was Chisholm, clinging to an iron and trying to +keep his head above water. + +"Let go! I'll pick you up on the other side," shouted Wyndham, and the +current swept them under a beam. + +Then he grasped the lad's shoulder and steered him between two pillars. +The splash of oars indicated that a boat was pulling round the pier. +Wyndham's arm struck a cross-bar and next moment something caught his +leg, but he went clear and, dragging Chisholm with him, drifted into the +moonlight. He felt safe now; all they need do was to wait until the boat +arrived. They were a hundred yards from the pier when she came up and +Marston leaned over the bow. + +"Let me have him," he said. "Back her and sit steady, Tom." + +Wyndham knew he could trust Bob and let Chisholm go. Marston dragged him +on board and then balanced the boat while Wyndham lifted himself over +the stern. Chisholm did not seem much the worse, for he began to squeeze +the water from his clothes and laughed. + +"Trouble was, the punt I jumped for wasn't there," he said. "Imagine I +owe you something, Wyndham. The other fellows couldn't have got me +while I stuck to the brace, and if I'd let go, I'd have gone under the +irons." + +"That's all right!" Wyndham remarked. "You'll look before you jump +another time." + +They put Chisholm on board a steam yacht and when they reached _Red +Rose_ Marston said, "It was lucky for Jack you were about. We couldn't +have got in between the braces with the punt." + +"It was a stroke of luck for both of us," Wyndham replied with a laugh. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CHISHOLM'S PERSUASION + + +Commodore Chisholm sat in his smoking-room and knitted his brows while +Wyndham talked. The room was small and plainly furnished and the books +on the shelves were all about the sea; narratives of old explorers' +voyages, works on naval tactics, and yacht registers. Wyndham spoke fast +and with marked eagerness, and when he was moved he had a strange power +of persuasion, but now and then Chisholm frowned. Although he knew he +must give way, he hesitated. There was something romantic and, so to +speak, exotic, about Wyndham, and Chisholm liked sober English calm. + +For all that, he loved his daughter, whom he had long indulged, and knew +her mind. He had only two children, Jack and Flora, and his wife was +dead. Chisholm had loved her well and married rather late. It was for +her sake and because his pay was small he left the navy and took a post +in the service of a public navigation board. Although he held his navy +rank he was generally given his yachting title, the "Commodore." He was +scrupulously just, frank, and rather slow; a man at whom his friends +sometimes smiled but always trusted. Now he frankly wished his daughter +had chosen another lover. It was not that he disliked the fellow; he +knew his family history and what business men thought about Wyndham +Brothers. Still, it looked as if Flora was satisfied. + +"You ask me rather a hard thing," he remarked when Wyndham stopped. +"However, if Flora agrees, I suppose I cannot refuse. It's obvious I owe +you much." + +"You mean my pulling Jack out of the water? I don't want to urge this. +It was really nothing, and the lad swims well." + +"There is some risk in trying to swim through a net of iron rods when a +four-knot current runs through the holes; as I expect you knew when you +plunged. Besides, it's plain Jack was excited and a little off his +balance. The others went for a punt; you saw the real danger and steered +him through." + +Wyndham imagined Chisholm was struggling with his prejudices and trying +to be just. He had a generous vein and the Commodore's honesty moved +him. + +"My strongest argument is that I love Flora," he declared. + +"It counts for much," said Chisholm, who felt his sincerity. "Still, +there are other matters one must talk about." + +"That is so, sir," Wyndham agreed. "Well, I know I'm asking much and I'm +handicapped. I'm poor; when I took the family business I took a load of +debt and some distrust. We're not a conventional lot; we have long been +reckless and adventurous." + +He stopped for a moment, and then, while Chisholm approved his +frankness, went on: "All the same, I'm young; the house's fortunes can +be mended and its credit made good, and I have an object for putting my +heart into the job. It will be something of a struggle, sir, but I've +got a fighting chance, and with Flora's help I feel I'm going to win." + +"How do you propose to mend the house's fortunes?" Chisholm asked. + +"For a start, I've planned to visit our factories abroad, study our +trade on the spot, and turn out incompetent agents. I'll begin in West +Africa and then cross to the Caribbean. I expect to use our trading +schooner." + +Chisholm looked up, rather quickly, and Wyndham saw his interest was +roused. When one talked about boats the Commodore was keen, and +Wyndham's voyage was, so to speak, safe ground. + +"It's a long run," Chisholm remarked. + +"The slavers' road, sir," said Wyndham, who meant to lead him on. "A +slow beat against the Guinea current until one clears the windward ports +and works up to the Pambier; and then a fast reach across open water in +the North-East Trades. The early adventurers used smaller boats than +mine." + +"They pushed off from the Azores and Canaries, north of your track, and +carried the North-Easter farther across. If you get to leeward, you'll +strike the equatorial calms. But what about your boat?" + +"She's an old ninety-ton yacht, the _Columbine_, and was rather famous +once." + +"_Columbine_?" said Chisholm, who took down a yacht register. "Here she +is! Good builders, men who stuck to oak and teak. But she's thirty years +old." + +Wyndham smiled. The Commodore was getting keen; he was as enthusiastic +as a boy when he talked about the sea. + +"I understand she's pretty sound and I must use the tools I've got. Her +draught is light. We can cross river bars and get into shallow lagoons. +Our factories stand by the mangrove creeks the slavers haunted. +Wyndhams' were slavers long since." + +"An old house!" said Chisholm. "Your folks were pioneers. There's +something in a long record; habits and characteristics go with the blood +of an old stock." + +"Sometimes that has drawbacks, sir," Wyndham remarked. + +Chisholm did not follow him and Wyndham saw he was musing about the +romance of the sea. + +"But what about your crew?" the Commodore asked. + +"I expect to keep the Liberian Krooboys now on board. A half-tamed, +reckless lot, but every Krooboy's a sailor." + +"I know; fine stuff, but needs management," Chisholm agreed. "I was on +patrol along the Guinea coast--a long time since. Blazing sun, roaring +bars, steaming mangrove swamps, and sickness. For all that, there's a +fascination you get nowhere else, unless it's on the Caribbean and coast +of Brazil. The world's alike on the lines of latitude and man's morals +follow the parallels." He paused with a dreamy look and then resumed: +"I'm getting old and have my duty; but if I could, I'd go with you." + +For a time they talked about the voyage, and then, with a +half-embarrassed smile, Chisholm pulled himself up. "I'm forgetting. +There are things I ought to ask----" + +Wyndham told him how much money he had, and when Chisholm looked +thoughtful, went on: "I don't expect your consent to our marrying yet. +It's not long since I took control of the business and much depends on +the arrangements I hope to make at our factories. Things will look +better when I come back." + +"It's possible. But you do not know." + +"I really do know, sir," Wyndham declared. "You can make my ability to +put things straight a stipulation, if you like. I'm willing to be +tested. I feel I can't fail." + +Chisholm studied him for a moment or two. Wyndham's eyes sparkled; he +looked strangely forceful and resolute, and Chisholm thought he +understood why Flora had been carried away. The fellow was handsome and +romantic. Besides, he was a fine sailor, and Chisholm knew his pluck. + +"Very well," he said. "We'll let it go like that. The wedding must wait +until you come back, but I wish you luck." + +Wyndham thanked him and when he went off Chisholm pondered. Perhaps he +had agreed rather weakly; he had meant to be firmer, but Wyndham had led +him to talk about his voyage. Anyhow, the fellow had charm. It was hard +to refuse him and Chisholm had seen he was sincere. By and by he got up +and lighted his pipe. The thing was done with and he had given his +consent. Somehow he had been persuaded and after all if Flora was +satisfied---- + +Chisholm had not stipulated that nobody should be told and Flora's +friends had much to talk about. Mabel Hilliard was disturbed, and when +Marston came to her mother's house one evening took him to the garden. + +"Bob," she said, "I suppose you know Wyndham is going to marry Flora?" + +"I do know," said Marston. "In fact, I approve. Flora is nearly the +nicest girl I've met. However, I imagine you're not satisfied." + +"I am not. Flora has been my friend since we were children. I am very +fond of her and think she is quite the nicest girl you have met." + +"Bar one!" Marston interposed. + +Mabel smiled. "Oh, well, I expect your judgment's biased, Bob. But let +me go on, although it's rather awkward ground. Wyndham has charm, he's +picturesque; something of the gentleman-adventurer type. I think that's +what I mean." + +"But you don't like the type? I thought it appealed to a girl's +imagination. Anyhow, although we're getting conventionalized, there are +gentlemen-adventurers and we have jobs for them yet." + +"I am not romantic," Mabel replied, with a twinkling glance. "I like +sober men, even if they're sometimes slow; men who keep a promise but +don't protest much. One doesn't want to be dazzled. A steady light is +enough." + +Marston was silent for a moment or two. Mabel's trust moved him and he +was half embarrassed. Then he said: "There's a remark of yours I can't +let go. No ground you think you ought to venture on is awkward to us. +Very well. You don't approve Harry's marrying Flora, but what line d'you +want me to take? I can't give him up and you're not going to give up +your friend. It wouldn't be like you." + +"I want you to stick to him closer than before. Flora and he may need us +both. One feels that Wyndham's unstable, and you make good ballast, +Bob." + +"Well, I suppose I'm heavy enough and you have given me an easy job. +It's curious, but not long since I told Harry I'd see him out if he +wanted help and yesterday he hinted he'd like a partner for his voyage +South. In a way, of course, I don't want to go." + +Mabel hid her disturbance and mused. She was modern and sometimes +frivolous, but she was very staunch and loved two people well. She did +not want Bob to go and yet she thought he ought. Mabel had an +instinctive distrust for Wyndham, although she liked him. She felt that +with his temperament he would run risks in the South and he must be +protected, for Flora's sake. Flora had promised to marry Wyndham and +Mabel knew she would keep her word. Well, sober, honest Bob, who was +really cleverer than people thought, was the man to take care of him. + +"If Wyndham urges it, I must let you go," she said. + +Marston gave her a steady glance, and nodded. + +"I understand. Of course, I think your notion's ridiculous. Harry +doesn't need a fellow like me, but you mean well. Although, in one way, +I'd frankly like the trip, in another I'd much sooner stay." + +"I know," said Mabel. "You're a dear, Bob." + +Then she got up, smiling, and advanced to meet Chisholm and Flora, who +came up the garden path. + +Wyndham urged Marston to go with him, and a week or two afterwards Flora +and Mabel stood on the deck of a paddle tug crossing a busy river mouth. +The day was dull and a haze of smoke from two towns hung about the long +rows of warehouses and massive river walls. Out in the stream, a small +steamer with a black funnel and a row of white deckhouses moved seawards +with the tide. The figures grouped along her rail got indistinct, but +Flora's eyes were fixed upon two that stood away from the rest, until +they faded. Then the African boat vanished behind the towering hull of +an anchored liner. + +Flora turned and lowered her veil, for her eyes were wet. Chisholm was +on board the tug, but he was some distance off. Mabel was near, and her +look was strained. + +"In a way, it's only a long yachting trip," the latter remarked. + +"No," said Flora; "we both know it is not. It's a rash adventure; Harry +is going South, as his people all have gone, and some did not come +back." + +"Of course he'll come back! Travel's safe and easy now. They'll have no +adventures, except perhaps, at sea." + +"I'm not afraid of the sea," Flora said in a quiet voice. "It's the +tropic coast; the big muddy rivers that get lost in the forest, and the +dark lagoons among the mangrove swamps. The country's insidious; its +influence is strong." + +Mabel forced a smile. She thought Flora was not disturbed about the +physical dangers, such as fever and shipwreck. It looked as if she knew +her lover. + +"Anyhow, Bob is going with Harry, and Bob is not romantic," she +remarked. "In fact, he's the steadiest, most matter-of-fact man I know. +Nothing excites Bob much. It's very hard to carry him away." + +Flora gave her a grateful look. Since she must not criticize Harry, they +could not be altogether frank, but she saw Mabel understood. The men +they loved had very different temperaments, and Bob would be a useful +counterbalance. He was sober and practical: one could trust him. It was +hard to own that, in a sense, she could not trust Harry. He was rash, +and Flora did not like the stories about the Wyndhams who had not come +back. However, Bob was going, and she imagined she owed Mabel much. + +"I like Bob," she said. "I expect it cost you something to send him with +Harry." + +"He wanted to go." + +Flora put her hand in the other's arm. "But you might have stopped him." + +"He's Harry's friend," said Mabel. "I am yours. After all, that counts +for something, but we won't talk about it now. Your promising to marry +Harry has drawn us closer. It's an extra tie, because all Bob's friends +are mine." + +The tug's whistle shrieked as she swung across the tide to the landing +stage and Flora looked down the river. In the distance, where granite +walls and warehouses got small and indistinct, the African boat melted +into the smoke and mist. Flora felt strangely forlorn and half afraid. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE MAN WHO VANISHED + + +Moonlight glittered on the West African river and it was very hot; the +air was heavy, humid, and tainted by miasmatic vapors. Inside the lonely +factory, moisture dripped from the beams and the big bare room that +opened on the veranda smelt of mildew. Across the river, tangled +mangroves loomed through drifting mist that hid the banks of mud about +their long, arched roots. Wyndham's schooner, _Columbine_, rode in +midstream, her tall masts and the graceful sweep of her rail cutting +black against the silver light. Somebody on board was singing a Kroo +paddling song with a strange monotonous air. In the distance one heard +the rumble of heavy surf. + +The factory was old and ruinous and the agent's hair was going white. He +sat opposite Wyndham, at the end of a table about which documents were +scattered; a cocktail jug and some glasses occupied the middle. Ellams +was haggard and his skin was a jaundiced yellow. Marston lounged in a +deck chair, with the perspiration running down his face, and smoked a +cigarette. + +"I think I have told you all you want to know, and I'm willing to give +up my post," Ellams remarked. "Indeed, I'm beginning to feel I'm too old +for the job. Few white men have lived as long in the fever swamps; as a +rule an agent's run was very short when I first came out. We didn't +bother about mosquitoes then. The tropical-diseases people hadn't +discovered the mischievous habits of _anopheles_." + +"You were here with my uncle, I think?" said Wyndham. + +"I was with him for a year or two," Ellams answered, in a reminiscent +tone. "A strange man, in some ways! I expect it's long since you saw +him?" + +"He came to England when I was a boy." + +Ellams smiled. "When I saw you cross the compound, I thought Rupert +Wyndham had come back. Wait a moment; I have his portrait." + +He brought a faded and mildewed photograph. Wyndham studied it, without +speaking, and then gave it to Marston, who made a little gesture of +surprise. He imagined Rupert Wyndham was about his comrade's age when +the portrait was taken, and the likeness was strange. There was in both +faces a hint of recklessness and unrest, although the hint was plainer +in the portrait. It indicated that Rupert would venture much and take +paths sober men did not tread. Somehow it disturbed Marston. + +"I suppose you know he vanished in the West Indies?" Wyndham remarked. + +"Yes," said Ellams quietly. "I half expected something like this----" + +"Ah!" said Wyndham. "Well, we've done with business for to-night. Tell +me about my uncle." + +Ellams drained his glass and Marston noted that his hand shook. The man +had obviously suffered much from ague and fever. + +"Rupert Wyndham was here before me," Ellams began. "Procter was agent +when he arrived and Procter had got some native habits. That's a risk +men who indulge their curiosity run in Africa. There's danger of +forgetting one is white. I imagine it was unlucky Rupert began with +Procter; his was a strange, adventurous temperament----" + +"I'm told I have some of Rupert's characteristics," Wyndham remarked. +"But go on." + +"When your uncle came out, there was no rule but the negro headman's. +British authority stopped a few miles from the outpost stockade, and +traders made their own laws; they lived and drank hard. In some ways, +things are not very different yet. We kill mosquitoes and dig drains, +but Africa doesn't change. + +"Well, Procter had gone the way some white men go, and when he died your +uncle got a jar. Rupert had only known England and he was young, but I +don't mean he was daunted. Rather he lost his balance and started on a +line he ought to have left alone. Sometimes he talked about the thing. I +suspect he knew the Leopards killed Procter." + +"The _Leopards_?" Marston interrupted. + +"The Ghost Leopards, a secret society. In this country, there are a +number, run by the Ju-Ju priests. They're supposed to use magic, but +they're a power in native politics and have given the British government +trouble. Perhaps the Leopards are the strongest. The bushmen believe +they can take the form of the animals, and when they like make +themselves invisible. Anyhow, the headman they don't approve seldom +rules very long----" + +Ellams paused for a few moments and resumed: "It was a hot night when +Rupert Wyndham thought he heard Procter call. He said his voice was +choked and faint. He got up; he occupied the room yonder--" Ellams +indicated a door opposite and went on: "There was no light, but the moon +shone through the window behind us. Rupert had only been awake a few +moments and heard nothing but the faint cry. He ran out in his pyjamas +and found Procter on the floor. Procter's body was warm, but when +Wyndham tried to lift him he saw he was dead. He lay across the cracked +board where Mr. Marston sits." + +Marston half-consciously pushed back his chair. "But what indicated the +Leopards?" + +"There were strange marks on Procter's throat. Wyndham thought they +looked like the marks of claws." + +Marston pondered while Ellams filled his glass. He pictured the huddled +figure in pyjamas lying across the rotten boards, and the marks on the +throat. As a rule his nerve was good, but the picture daunted him and he +did not like his comrade's strange, fixed look. In a sense, the story +was ridiculous; that is, it would have looked ridiculous in England, but +Africa was different. Theatrical tragedy was not strange there, and he +did not think Ellams had exaggerated much. + +"Well," said the latter, "in the morning Wyndham found the factory boys +had gone. He was alone with Procter and could get no help; besides, he +had a dose of fever and when malaria grips you, your imagination works. +He said perhaps the worst was the quietness and the buzzing of the +flies. He dug a grave, but could not get Procter down the steps; fever +makes one very limp, you know. Well, he sat there all day, keeping the +flies off Procter, and in the evening a Millers' launch came up stream." + +"A ghastly day!" said Marston, but Wyndham signed to Ellams. + +"You haven't told it all. Go on." + +"I'm an old servant and you're the head of the house," Ellams replied +meaningly. "Well, I think that day left a mark on Rupert Wyndham. When I +arrived he was moody and often brooded, but it looked as if he had a +talent for managing the bushmen. They seemed to understand him and the +business was growing fast. He began to go up river, although I imagine +no other trader had reached the native market then. It was good for +business; our oil was first quality and we got stuff, skins and +sometimes ivory, Millers' and the Association couldn't buy. Besides, +there were bits of pottery, brass, and silver work, the Fulah brought +across the desert. Wyndham said the patterns were Sarascenic and the +stuff was hundreds of years old. The house knew where to sell the goods +at home. Once or twice we got Aggri beads." + +"I didn't know about that," Wyndham remarked and turned to Marston. "In +Africa, Aggri beads are worth almost any price you like to ask. We can't +imitate them and don't know how they are made. It's very rare for a +negro headman to let an Aggri go." + +Ellams made a sign of agreement, and gave Wyndham an apologetic glance. +"You see what this implies?" + +"I think I see. My uncle was getting native habits; he was getting an +influence----" + +"He stopped away from the factory longer. Men with tattoo marks I +didn't know came down and talked to him, and sometimes brought no trade. +I thought he ran risks and warned him, but he laughed. It went on, and +we were getting rich when the change began. Our trade did not fall off +much, but one felt a difference----" + +Ellams paused, and looked thoughtful when he resumed: "I can't +altogether make things plain; there was a feeling of insecurity, and +Wyndham's moodiness got worse. He did not go away so much, and locked +his room door at night. I think he did not sleep and took some draught; +not drugs white men use, but stuff the negroes make. When he did sleep, +he was strangely hard to rouse. He was cool and as nearly fearless as +any man I knew, but he began to look haggard and start at unexpected +sounds. One morning I could not wake him and went round to the veranda +window. Wyndham was fast asleep and a gun lay across his bed. He was a +good shot with a pistol, but this was a heavy duck-gun that threw an +ounce and a quarter of shot. Well, I was getting nervy, and the factory +boys would not stop--it looked as if they knew something was wrong. I +began to wonder how long Wyndham could keep it up." + +The others were quiet when Ellams reached for the cocktail jug and +finding it empty filled his pipe. Marston had spent some weeks on the +African coast and sympathized with the agent. When one had seen the +country and breathed the foul miasma that saps the white man's strength, +one could understand the strain Ellams talked about. It was a daunting +country and the gloom of its steamy forests was the shadow of death. + +"After all," said Ellams, "there was no theatrical climax. One day a +launch brought us a cablegram. Wyndham was wanted at home, the ebb tide +was running and a mailboat was due to call at Takana lagoon. In an hour +_Columbine_ dropped down stream and my notion is it was a relief to +Wyndham the cablegram arrived. If it had not arrived, he would have +stayed. He was that kind of man." + +"Had you trouble afterwards?" Marston asked. + +"I had not. It was as if a shadow had melted. The strain had gone." + +"Then it looks as if my uncle, alone, were threatened." Wyndham +remarked. + +Ellams nodded. "Yes. I think it was, so to speak, a personal thing. For +all that, our trade got slack and has not since touched the mark it +reached in your uncle's time. Well, I think that's all, and perhaps I +have talked too much." + +"If you'll mix another cocktail, we'll go to bed," Wyndham replied and +when, a few minutes afterwards, he went to his room stopped at the door. + +"This is where Rupert Wyndham slept with the gun beside him, I suppose?" +he said. "I wonder what he dreamed about!" + +For some time Marston did not sleep. As a rule, he did not indulge his +imagination, but he had been disturbed by the agent's tale and there +were strange noises. Some he thought were made by cracking boards and +falling damp; others puzzled him and he found them daunting in the dark. +They were like footsteps, as if somebody stole about the rooms. Marston +had had enough of Africa and yet he owned the country had a mysterious +charm. White men stayed, knowing the risk they ran and without much +hope of money reward, until they died of fever or their minds got +deranged. The latter happened now and then. In order to keep sane, one +must concentrate on one's business and refuse to speculate about the +secret life of the bush. After all, there was much to speculate +about---- + +Marston pulled himself up. He was a sober white man and had nothing to +do with the negro's fantastic superstitions. Magic and witchcraft were +ridiculous, but in a country where they were a ruling force it was not +easy to laugh. He thought Rupert Wyndham had made rash experiments and +had dared too much, and although this was perhaps not important, Harry +had his uncle's temperament. The trouble was there. Still they would +leave the river soon and it would be a relief to go to sea. The sea was +clean and bracing. + +Three or four days afterwards _Columbine_ dropped down stream on the +ebb. A big naked Krooboy held the wheel, another in the fore-channels +swung the lead and called the depth in a musical voice. The white +factory got indistinct and melted into the swamps, the puffs of wind +were fresher, and Marston was conscious of a keen satisfaction as the +dreary mangroves slipped astern and yellow sand and lines of foam came +into view ahead. + +Wyndham, smoking a cigarette, leaned against the rail. He wore white +duck without a crease and a big pale-gray hat. Marston thought he looked +very English, with his keen blue eyes, light hair, and red skin, but his +gaze was contemplative. + +"You're not sorry to get away?" he presently remarked. "I wonder +whether Rupert Wyndham was." + +"I wonder why he stayed," said Marston. "Unless, of course, he was +earning money." + +"A plausible explanation, but I'm not sure it's good," Wyndham replied +with a smile. "The head of our house was often extravagant but never, I +think, a miser. We're not a greedy lot." + +"You were traders; the object of trading is to get rich." + +"I doubt if this was my uncle's, or some of my other ancestors' object, +I think they valued money for what it would buy. Anyhow, they seldom +kept it long." + +"Since most of us value money for what it will buy, I don't understand," +Marston rejoined. + +"You bought a country house, a sober sportsman's life, and the liking of +honest friends. Well, your investments were sound, but there are men of +other temperaments they mightn't satisfy. I don't think they would have +satisfied Rupert Wyndham." + +"Then what did he expect to get in the swamps?" + +"I don't know," said Wyndham, with a curious smile. "Perhaps strange +experiences; perhaps knowledge and power. I imagine he knew he must buy +them and was willing to pay." + +"Power over tattooed bushmen!" Marston exclaimed. "What could they teach +him?" + +"Things we have begun to experiment with and their Ju-Ju men knew long +since. The white man who knows the meaning of their tattoo marks has +gone some distance; they're not all tribal signs. However, I don't know +what Rupert Wyndham learned and it looks as if I shall not find out. +Our object's very matter of fact; to earn as much money as possible." + +"That is so. I mean to stick to it," said Marston firmly. + +Wyndham laughed. "I expect you mean to see I take your line! Well, it's +a good line. But we're getting near the bar. Suppose you fetch the +chart?" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE TORNADO + + +The night was hot and nearly calm, and Marston, sitting on the cabin +skylight, languidly looked about. A Krooboy held the wheel, and his dark +figure cut against the phosphorescent sea. _Columbine_'s bulwarks were +low and when she rolled the long, smooth swell ran level with their top. +A dim glow came from the compass binnacle, but the schooner was +close-hauled and the Kroo steered by the faint strain on the helm. The +wind was light and baffling and _Columbine_ beat against it as she +worked along the coast. + +She carried all her canvas and her high gaff-topsail swung rhythmically +across the sky, shutting out the stars. Her dark mainsail looked very +big and every now and then shook down a shower of dew as its slack +curves swelled. A small moon touched the tops of the undulations with +silver light, and when the bows went down the foam that leaped about the +planks glimmered with green and gold. Booms and blocks rattled and +timbers groaned. + +Marston could not see the land, which was hidden by the sour, hot mist +that at sunset rolls off the African coast. He did not want to see it; +he hoped he had done with Africa, but he doubted. _Columbine_ was on the +track the keels of the old slavers plowed, and he felt that the shadow +of the dark country might follow him across the sea. Long since, Africa +had peopled South America and the West Indies; Wyndham's ancestors had +helped in that. One found mangrove swamps, fever, and negro superstition +on the Caribbean coast, and it was significant that Rupert Wyndham had +vanished there. The trouble was Harry had inherited something of his +uncle's temperament. All the same, Marston had undertaken to stand by +him and meant to do so. + +The breeze got lighter, the wet canvas flapped, and _Columbine_ hardly +made steerage way. She rolled until her bulwarks touched the water and +threw off fiery foam. One could not stand on her slanted deck, and +blocks and spars made a hideous din. In the distance, the roar of surf +rose and fell with a measured beat. Somewhere in the mist the big +combers crashed upon a hammered beach. It did not matter if there was +wind or not; the white band of surf had fringed the coast since the +world was young. + +Marston found his watch dreary. There was nothing to do; nothing, that +he could see, threatened, and the scattered light clouds hardly moved +across the sky. He was filling his pipe when he heard a step and saw +Wyndham by the wheel. He knew him by his white duck; the negro crew did +not wear much clothes. + +"Hallo!" he said. "My watch is not up." + +"I was awake," Wyndham replied. "Felt I ought to get on deck. The glass +is falling." + +"Did you feel you ought to come _after_ you noted this?" + +"Before," said Wyndham, dryly. "I didn't know the glass had dropped +until I got a light, but it looks as if I might have stayed below. +However, since I have turned out, we'll haul down the main-topsail." + +He gave an order and two Krooboys got to work. There was no obvious +reason for lowering the sail, but when Wyndham ordered the negroes +obeyed. Although they grinned with frank good-humor when Marston talked +to them, he knew he did not share Wyndham's authority. Yet Harry was not +harsh. + +When the sail was lowered Wyndham looked about. Some of the scattered +clouds had rolled together and the sky was black over the land. One +could scarcely feel the light wind, but the surf had got louder. Its +roar came out of the dark as if heavy trains were running along the +coast. + +"It looks ridiculous, particularly since I'd like to edge her farther +off the beach, but I think we'll stow the mainsail and fore-staysail," +Wyndham remarked. + +Marston agreed. Although he could see no grounds for shortening sail, he +trusted Wyndham's judgment, and the Krooboys got to work again. The +ropes, however, were stiff and swollen with the dew, and the mainsail +came down slowly. The heavy folds of canvas caught between the +topping-lifts; the gaff-jaws jambed on the mast. Wyndham sent a man +aloft to sit upon and ride down the spar, but this did not help much, +and the boom along the foot of the sail lurched with violent jerks. +Blocks banged and loose ropes whipped across the deck. The sweat ran +down Marston's face; he wanted to finish the job. For one thing, +_Columbine_ was unmanageable while the half-lowered canvas flapped +about. + +Stopping a moment for breath, he glanced over the rail. The long swell +sparkled with small points of light that coalesced in sheets of green +flame when the undulations broke against the schooner's side. The deck +was spangled with luminous patches by the splashes and the wake that +trailed astern was bright. _Columbine_ stole through the water although +the wind had nearly gone. It was not worth while to bring her head-to +when they shortened sail. + +Then the helmsman shouted and Marston felt one side of his face and body +cool. The loose canvas flapped noisily. Its folds shook out and swelled, +and Marston seized a rope. His skin prickled; he felt a strange tension +and a feverish desire to drag down the sticking gaff. A few moments +afterwards, something flickered behind the sail and a peal of thunder +drowned the noise on board. When it died away, rolling hull, slanted +masts, and the figures of the men stood out, wonderfully sharp, against +a dazzling blaze that vanished and left bewildering dark. The next peal +of thunder deafened Marston, who thought Wyndham shouted but heard no +words. This did not matter, because he knew they must secure the sail +before the tornado broke, and he pulled at the downhaul. He could not +hear the wind for the thunder, but it had begun to blow. + +The sail swelled between the confining ropes, there was a noise on one +side of the yacht, water foamed along the planks, and she began to +swing. It looked as if the steersman were putting up the helm. The peak +of the gaff was nearly down; with another good pull they could seize it +and lash it to the boom. Then a dazzling flash touched the deck. Marston +saw Wyndham run aft and push the Kroo from the wheel, but this was the +last he saw clearly for sometime. He imagined the fellow had meant to +run the yacht off before the squall; one could ease the strain of a +sudden blast like that, but if the squall lasted, they could not shorten +sail while she was before the wind. Now she was coming round. Wyndham +had put the helm down. It looked as if he were too late. + +The tornado broke upon her side and she went over until her lee rail was +in the sea. There was a noise like a thunder-clap forward as a sail blew +away; Marston thought it was the jib. He could see nothing. It had got +impenetrably dark, but he had a vague notion that water rushed along the +deck and the mainsail had broken loose and blown out between the ropes. +Unless they could master it, the mast would go. He heard another report +forward and thought somebody had loosed the staysail halyards and the +sail had blown to rags. Although his eyes were useless, he knew what was +going on. + +But they must secure the main gaff, and clutching at the boom above his +head, he swung himself up and worked along to its outer end, which +stretched over the stern. A footrope ran below the spar; one could +balance oneself by its help and he vaguely distinguished somebody close +by. It was, no doubt, Wyndham, because his clothes looked white. There +was no use in shouting. The uproar drowned one's voice; besides, their +job was plain. They must get a rope round the end of the gaff and lash +it fast. + +Marston's waist was on the boom; his feet stuck out behind him, braced +against the rope. In front there was a dark gulf. This was, no doubt, +the hollow of the sail, and the indistinct slanting line above was the +gaff. He threw a rope across the latter, but the end did not drop, so +that he could seize it under the sail; the wind blew it out, straight +and tight. He tried again, farther aft, jostling against the figure that +looked faintly white, and leaning down across the boom, caught the end +of the rope. The other man helped him and when they had got a loop round +the end of the gaff he stopped for breath. He was shaky after the +effort, his heart thumped painfully, and his chest rose and fell. He +imagined other men were on the boom, but he and his companion were all +that mattered. They must lash the peak down before the sail blew out +again. When this was done, the others could master the distended folds. + +The wet rope tore his hands; he felt them get slippery with blood, but +he held on and the man beside him helped. Marston knew he was not a +Kroo. The Kroos were bold sailors, but their resolution had a limit. +When a job looked hopeless they gave up; the man beside Marston was +another type. While there was breath in his body he would stick to his +task. The sail must be conquered. + +Lightning played about them and Marston's eyes were dazzled by the +changes from intolerable glare to dark. He trusted to the feel of things +and his seaman's knowledge of what was happening. He did not think, but +worked half-consciously. They made the gaff fast, and then something +broke and the heavy boom swung out over the sea. The jerk threw +Marston's feet from the rope and his body began to slip off the boom. He +saw fiery foam below, but as he braced himself for the plunge the next +man seized him. It looked as if they must both slip off, for Marston +found no hold for his hands on the smooth, wet spar. Perhaps the +pressure of the wind saved them by forcing their limp bodies against +the boom, for the other man steadied Marston until his foot touched the +rope again. + +For a moment or two they hung on, not daring to move and waiting until +they gathered strength. Then they carefully worked their way to the +inner end of the spar and dropped, exhausted, on the deck. There was +however, no rest for them. The massive boom must be dragged back and +dropped into its crutch. It could not be left to lurch about and smash +all it struck. Marston was vaguely conscious that a gang of Krooboys ran +to the mainsheet and Wyndham directed their efforts. He, himself, could +do no more, and he leaned against the rail, breathing hard. + +As his exhaustion vanished he began to note things. The men had secured +the boom; but the schooner's bows looked bare and he remembered the jibs +had blown away. The foresail was torn and half-lowered, and the gaff at +its head was jambed. The torn canvas kept the vessel from falling off +the wind, but would not bring her up enough for her to lie to. Masts and +deck were horribly slanted, the windward bulwark was hove high up, and +luminous spray drove across its top. It looked as if she were going over +and there was an appalling din, for the scream of the tornado pierced +the thunder. + +Then lightning enveloped the yacht and ran along the water. For an +instant Marston saw Wyndham's white figure at the wheel, and then he +groped his way towards him in the puzzling dark. Harry would need help, +for Marston knew what he meant to do. Since _Columbine_ would not come +up, he was going to run her off before the wind in order to ease the +horrible pressure that bore her down. The trouble was, the tornado blew +from sea, and land was near. Marston seized the wheel, and using all his +strength, helped Wyndham to pull it round. She felt her rudder and began +to swing, lifting her lee rail out of the water. Then she came nearly +upright with a jerk, and although the tornado was deafening, Marston +thought he heard the water roar as it leaped against her bows. + +The speed she made lifted her forward and a white wave curled abreast of +the rigging. She was going like a train and Marston sweated and gasped +as he helped at the wheel. There was nothing to do but let her run, +although it was obvious she could not run long. A glance at the lighted +compass indicated that she was heading for the land, where angry surf +beat upon an inhospitable beach. If they tried to bring her round, the +masts would go and she might capsize. + +She drove on and presently the thunder stopped. Rain that fell in sheets +swept the deck and beat their clothes against their skin. One heard +nothing but the roar of the deluge and the darkness could not be +pierced. After a few minutes Marston felt the strain on the wheel get +easier and lost the sense of speed. The deck did not seem to be lifted +forward and he thought the bows had resumed their proper level. When he +turned his head the rain no longer lashed his face, the foresail +flapped, and the straining, rattling noises began again. It looked as if +the wind had suddenly got light. + +"Let's bring her round," he shouted and heard his voice hoarse and loud. + +Wyndham signed agreement, they turned the wheel, and the crew ran about +the deck. She came round and a few minutes afterwards headed out to sea, +lurching slowly across the swell that now rolled and broke with crests +of foam. The sky had cleared, but not far off an ominous rumble came out +of the gloom astern. + +"We'll wait for daybreak before we make sail," Wyndham remarked. "You +can get below. My watch has begun." + +"I suppose you were with me on the boom?" + +"I was on the boom," said Wyndham. "Somebody else was near." + +"Do you imply you didn't know whom it was when you held me up?" + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham, laughing, "it's not important. Suppose I had +grabbed a Krooboy who was falling? Do you imagine I ought to have let +him go? Anyhow, we helped each other. I don't expect I'd have reached +the deck if I had been alone." + +Marston said no more. One felt some reserve when one talked about things +like that. He looked to windward, and seeing the night was calm, went +below. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MIDDLE PASSAGE + + +Marston lounged with languid satisfaction on a locker in the stern +cabin. He had borne some strain and his body felt strangely slack +although his brain was active. The cabin was small and very plain, +because the yacht had been altered below decks when she was fitted for +carrying cargo. Moisture trickled down the matchboarded ceiling, big +warm drops fell from the beams, and a brass lamp swung about as she +rolled. Marston, however, knew this was an illusion; the beams moved but +the lamp was still. + +There were confused noises. Water washed about inside the lurching hull, +although a sharp clank overhead indicated that somebody was occupied at +the pump; water gurgled, with a noise like rolling gravel, outside the +planks. Timbers groaned, a seam in the matchboarding opened and shut, +and a dull concussion shook the boat when her bows plunged into the +swell. The swell was high, although the wind had dropped. Marston knew +these noises and found them soothing. They belonged to the sea, and he +loved the sea, although he had not long since fought it for his life. +Now the strain was over, he felt the struggle with the tornado had +braced and steadied him. + +In the tropics, it was the land he did not like. Perhaps he was getting +morbid, for after all he had not seen much of the African coast and yet +it frankly daunted him. His confused recollections were like a bad +dream; muddy lagoons surrounded by dreary mangroves from which the +miasma stole at night, hot and steamy forests where mysterious dangers +lurked, and rotting damp factories from which the burning sun could not +drive the shadow that weighed the white man down. Marston was not +imaginative, but he had felt the gloom. + +He pondered about it curiously. The shadow was, so to speak, impalpable; +vague yet sinister. Now and then white men rebelled against it with +noisy revels, but when the liquor was out the gloom crept back and some +drank again until they died. Yet the coast had a subtle charm, against +which it was prudent to steel oneself. The shadow was a reflection of +the deeper gloom in which the naked bushmen moved and served the powers +that rule the dark. + +Fever-worn traders declared there were such powers. One heard strange +stories that the men who told them obviously believed. It looked as if +the Ju-Ju magicians were not altogether impostors; they knew things the +white man did not and by this knowledge ruled. Their rule was owned and +firm. Marston had thought it ridiculous, but now he doubted. There was +something behind the hocus-pocus; something that moved one's curiosity +and tempted one to rash experiment. Marston knew this was what he +feared. Harry was rash and had rather felt the fascination than the +gloom. + +Marston banished his disturbing thoughts and began to muse about their +struggle with the sail. Harry was a normal, healthy white man then. It +was rather his sailor's instincts than conscious resolution that led +him to keep up the fight when it looked as if he must be thrown off the +boom. He would have been thrown off before he owned he was beaten. One +did things like that at sea, because they must be done, and did not +think them fine. Marston reviewed the fight, remembering his terror when +he slipped and how his confidence returned after Harry seized his arm. +The thought of the lonely plunge had daunted him; it was different when +he knew he would not plunge alone. If Harry and he could not reach the +deck, they would drop into the dark together. That was all, but it meant +much. For one thing, it meant that Marston must go where his comrade +went, although he might not like the path. In the meantime he was tired +and got into his bunk. + +When he went on deck in the morning the breeze was fresh and _Columbine_ +drove through the water under all plain sail, for they had some spare +canvas on board. The sky was clear and the sun sparkled on the foam that +leaped about the bows and ran astern in a broad white wake. The old boat +was fast and there was something exhilarating in her buoyant lift and +roll. Marston and Wyndham got breakfast under an awning on deck. Wyndham +wore thin white clothes and a silk belt. His skin was burned a dark red +and his keen blue eyes sparkled. One saw the graceful lines of his +muscular figure; he looked alert and virile. + +"You're fresh enough this morning," Marston remarked. "My back is sore +and my arms ache. It was a pretty big strain to secure the gaff." + +Wyndham laughed. "If the sail had blown away from us, the mast would +have gone and the boat have drifted into the surf." + +"I suppose we knew this unconsciously. Anyhow, I didn't argue about the +thing." + +"You held on," said Wyndham. "Well, I expect it's an example of an +instinct men developed when they used the old sailing ships. They must +beat the sea or drown, and sometimes the safety of all depended on the +nerve of one. I expect it led to a kind of class-conscientiousness. The +common need produced a code." + +"The instinct's good. Somehow, all you learn at sea is good; I mean, +it's morally bracing." + +Wyndham smiled and indicated a faint dark line that melted into the +horizon on the starboard hand. + +"It's different in Africa, for example?" + +"Oh, well," said Marston cautiously, "Africa has drawbacks, but if you +don't get fever and are satisfied to look at things on the surface, you +might stay there sometime and not get much harm." + +Wyndham saw Marston meant to warn him and was amused. Bob was rather +obvious, but he was sincere. + +"Suppose you're not satisfied with things as they look on the surface +and want to find out what they are beneath?" he asked. + +"Then I think you ought to clear out and go back to the North." + +"A simple plan! As a rule, your plans are simple. I'm curious, however, +and sometimes like to indulge my curiosity. It's easily excited in +Africa. There is much the white man doesn't know; he's hardly begun to +grasp the negro's point of view." + +"The negro has no point of view. He gropes in the dark." + +"I doubt it," said Wyndham thoughtfully. "I rather imagine he sees a +light, but perhaps not the light we know. There's a rude order in his +country and men with knowledge rule. The Leopards, the Ghost Crocodiles, +and the other strange societies don't hold power for nothing. Power +that's felt has some foundation." + +"You like power," Marston remarked. + +Wyndham smiled and looked about while he felt for another cigarette. +_Columbine_, swaying rhythmically to the heave of the swell, drove +through the sparkling water with a shower of spray blowing across her +weather bow. Her tall canvas gleamed against the blue sky. A Krooboy +lounged at the wheel, the most part of his muscular body naked and a +broad blue stripe running down his forehead. Two or three more squatted +in the shade of a sail. At the galley door the cook sang a monotonous +African song. The wire shrouds hummed like harpstrings, striking notes +that changed with the tension as the vessel rolled. There was nothing to +do but lounge and talk and Wyndham's mood was confidential. + +"I have not known much power," he said. "In England, power must be +bought. My father was poor but careless; my mother was sternly +conventional. When he died she tried to turn my feet into the regular, +beaten path. I know now she was afraid I would follow my ancestors' +wandering steps. Well, at school, I had the smallest allowance among the +boys, and learned to plot for things my comrades enjoyed. As a rule, I +got the things. I don't know if the effort was good or not, but I was +ambitious and wanted a leading place. Folks like you don't know what it +costs to hold one's ground." + +"I expect I got things easily," Marston agreed. "Perhaps this was lucky, +because I've no particular talent." + +"You have one talent that is worth all mine," Wyndham rejoined with some +feeling. "People trust you, Bob." + +Marston colored, but Wyndham went on: "When I left school and went to +Wyndhams' there was not much change. For the most part, my friends were +rich, and I had a clerk's pay, with a vague understanding that at some +far off time I might be the head of the house. The house was obviously +tottering; I did not think it would stand until I got control. My uncle, +Rupert's brother, would not see. Wyndhams' had stood so long he felt it +was self-supporting and would stand. Well, he was kind, and I'm glad he +died without knowing how near we really were to a fall. + +"However, I didn't mean to talk about the house, but rather about my +life when I was a shipping clerk. I had ambition and thought I had +talent; I hated to be left behind by my friends. It cost much planning +to share their amusements, join a good yacht club, and race my boat. +Sportsmen like you don't know the small tricks and shabbiness we others +are forced to use. Well, at length my uncle died and I got control of +the falling house, with its load of debt. I'd long been rash, but the +rashest thing I did was when I fell in love with Flora. Yet she loved +me, and Chisholm, with some reserves, has given his consent. I have got +to satisfy him and with this in view, we're bound for the Caribbean on +board a thirty-year-old yacht." + +Marston thought Wyndham did not look daunted. In a sense, his venture +was reckless, but Harry tried, and did, things others thought beyond +their powers. On the whole Marston imagined his boldness was justified. + +"If money can help, you know where it can be got," he said. + +Wyndham's half-ironical glance softened. + +"Thanks, Bob! So far, I haven't gone begging from my friends; but if I +can use your money without much risk, I will borrow. I think you know +this." + +"What's mine is yours," Marston remarked and went to the cabin for a +chart, with which he occupied himself. + +He studied the chart and sailing directions when he had nothing to do +and was rather surprised that Wyndham did not. It was a long run to the +Caribbean and would be longer if they drifted into the equatorial calms. +Marston had a yacht master's certificate, although he was rather a +seaman than a navigator. He could find his way along the coast by +compass and patent-log, but to steer an ocean course was another thing. +One must be exact when one calculated one's position by the height of +the sun and stars. + +For some time they made good progress and then the light wind dropped +and _Columbine_ rolled about in a glassy calm. The swell ran in long +undulations that shone with reflected light, and there was no shade, for +they lowered all sail to save the canvas from burning and chafing. The +sun pierced the awning, and it was intolerably hot. They had reached the +dangerous part of the old slavers' track; the belt of stagnant ocean +where the south wind stopped and the north-east had not begun. The belt +had been marked long since by horrors worse than wreck, for while the +crowded brigs and schooners drifted under the burning sun, fresh water +ran out and white men got crazed with rum while negroes died from +thirst. + +Wyndham lounged one morning under the awning after his bath. He wore +silk pyjamas, a red silk belt, and a wide hat of double felt. He looked +cool and Marston thought he harmonized with his surroundings; the +background of dazzling water, the slanted masts that caught the light as +they swung, and the oily black figures of the naked crew. He wondered +whether Harry had inherited something from ancestors who had known the +tragedies of the middle passage. Marston himself was wet with sweat, his +eyes ached, and his head felt full of blood. + +"We may drift about for some time," he said, throwing down a book he had +tried to read. "The sailing directions indicate that the Trades are +variable near their southern limit." + +"It's a matter of luck," Wyndham agreed, and Marston started because his +comrade's next remark chimed with his thoughts. "When I studied some of +the house's old records I found that two of our brigs vanished in the +calm belt. One wondered how they went. Fire perhaps, or the slaves broke +the hatch at night. Can't you picture their pouring out like ants and +bearing down the drunken crew? The crews did drink; slaving was not a +business for sober men. Hogsheads of rum figure in our old victualing +bills." + +He paused and resumed with a hard smile: "Well, it was a devilish trade. +One might speculate whether the responsibility died with the men +engaged in it and vanished with the money they earned. None of the +Wyndhams seem to have kept money long; luck went hard against them. When +they did not squander, misfortune dogged the house." + +"Superstition!" Marston exclaimed. + +Wyndham laughed. "It's possible, but superstition's common and all men +are not fools. I expect their fantastic imaginings hold a seed of truth. +Perhaps somebody here and there finds the seed and makes it grow." + +"In Africa, they water the soil with blood. It's not a white man's +gardening." Marston rejoined and went forward to the bows, but got no +comfort there. + +The sea shone like polished steel, heaving in long folds without a +wrinkle on its oily surface. But for the sluggish rise and fall, one +might have imagined no wind had blown since the world was young. + +For a week _Columbine_ rolled about, and then one morning faint blue +lines ran across the sea to the north. Gasping and sweating with the +effort, they hoisted sail and sent up the biggest topsail drenched with +salt water. Sometimes it and the light balloon jib filled and although +the lower canvas would not draw, _Columbine_ began to move. One could +not feel her progress, there was no strain on the helm, but silky +ripples left her side and slowly trailed astern. + +For all that, she went the wrong way, heading south into the calm, and +they could not bring her round. Her rudder had no grip when they turned +the wheel, and sometimes she stopped for an hour and then crawled on +again. The Krooboys panted in the shade of the shaking sails, and +Marston groaned and swore when he took his glasses and slackly climbed +the rigging. The dark-blue lines were plainer, three or four miles off, +and he thought they marked the edge of the Trade-breeze. + +Wyndham alone looked unmoved; he lay in a canvas chair under the awning, +and smoked and seemed to dream. Marston wondered what he dreamed about +and hoped it was Flora. In the afternoon Marston felt he must find some +relief. + +"I want to launch a boat and tow her," he said. "There's wind enough not +far off to keep her steering." + +Wyndham nodded. "Very well. It's recorded that they towed the +_Providence_ for three days and used up a dozen negroes in the boats, +besides some gallons of rum. The fellow who kept the log was obviously +methodical. However, I want to keep our boys, and you can't tow in the +sun." + +"It's unthinkable," Marston agreed. "We'll begin at dark." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE TOW + + +At sunset they hoisted out two boats, for wages are low in Africa and +_Columbine_ carried a big crew. Wyndham stopped on board to steer while +Marston went in the gig, and the sun touched the horizon when he began +to uncoil a heavy warp. He was only occupied for a few minutes but when +he had finished it was dark. The relief from the glare was soothing and +the gloom was marked by a mistiness that gave him hope. He knew a faint +haze often follows the North-East Trades. + +The Krooboys dipped the oars, and the water glimmered with luminous +spangles under the blades and fell like drops of liquid fire. This was +all the light, except for the sparkle at _Columbine_'s bows as she +slowly forged ahead. She came on, towering above the boats in a vague +dark mass, until she sank with the swell and the tightening rope jerked +them rudely back. On heaving water, towing a large vessel is strenuous +work, for her progress is a series of plunges and one cannot keep an +even strain on the rope. + +When they began to row Marston's boat was drawn back under the yacht's +iron martingale. Her bowsprit loomed above it, threatening and big, and +the oars bent as the Kroos drove the boat ahead. In a few moments she +stopped and forged back towards the yacht, but the jerk was less +violent. _Columbine_ was moving faster and the heavy warp worked like a +spring, easing the shock. Marston's business, however, was to tow her +round and when she began to turn he had trouble to keep his boat in +line. The tightening rope rasped across her stern, the gig swerved and +listed over, until it looked as if she would capsize. The oars on one +side were buried deep, the men could not clear them for another stroke, +and the threatening martingale rose and fell close astern. + +Marston, when the rope would let him, sculled with a long oar, and +presently the skin peeled from his hands. His throat got parched, sweat +ran down his face and he gasped with straining breath, but it was better +to use his strength than risk the martingale's being driven into his +back. They pulled her round and it was easier afterwards although he +could not relax much. The yacht was stealing through the water, but they +must keep up her speed or the violent jerks would begin again. It was +only possible to rest for a moment on the crest of the swell when the +warp absorbed the backward pull. + +A negro began to sing and the rest took up the chorus. The air was +strange and dreary but somehow musical, and Marston imagined it was very +old. He understood the Kroos had sung their paddling chanties long +before the Elizabethan slavers touched the fever-coast. The night was +very calm and dark. The figures of the men were indistinct, but when the +song stopped Marston heard their labored breathing and the regular +splash of oars. They rowed well and he hoped their toil was not wasted. +By daybreak they might reach the edge of the wind, but the fickle +zephyrs might die away and the fiery dawn break across another glassy +calm. + +When he was not sculling Marston mused. He was rich and owned it strange +that he was there, laboring in the boat, as the slavers labored when +they towed the _Providence_, two hundred years ago. He wondered why men +went to sea in sailing ships, to bear fatigues nobody endured at home, +to fight for life on slanted yards, and stagger waist-deep about flooded +decks. Yet one went, and sometimes went for no reward. The thing was +puzzling. + +After all, the sea had a touch of romance one felt nowhere else. It was +something to brave the middle passage, although one had enough fresh +water and no frenzied slaves on board. Marston thought about the old +brigs--they towed the _Providence_ three days, under the burning tropic +sun. He could picture her. She rode low in the water, with her stone +ballast, and freight of parched humanity packed close on the tween-decks +and in the bottom hold. She had tall masts, for speed was needed, and +the weight aloft would make her plunge and roll. The jerks on the +towline embarrassed the boats, but white men drove the exhausted negroes +with whips and curses until they dropped the oars and died. Yet they +towed her three days. + +Marston could not see his watch and wondered how long it was to sunrise. +It was unthinkable they should go on rowing in the heat of day; he was +tired now and remembering the dark ripples alone sustained him. He +thought they had nearly reached the spot where the surface was +disturbed, but the fickle puffs of wind might have dropped. Stopping +sculling for a few moments, he turned his head. His face was wet with +sweat but he felt no coolness on his skin. It was very dark and +ominously calm. + +He took up the long oar again, twisting it with bleeding hands and +bracing his legs. They must keep _Columbine_ moving and his business was +to hold the boat straight; trouble with the warp would follow if she +took a sheer. For all that, he could not hold out long. He had taken +life easily and his body revolted from the strain. In fact, he was +beaten now, but it counted for much that the Krooboys rowed. They were +raw savages and he was white. They owned his control, but all the +advantages money could buy for him had gone. Nothing was left but the +primitive strength and stubbornness of human nature. He must not be +beaten; he owed it to the ruling stock from which he sprang, and with a +stern effort he tugged at the oar. + +At length, he felt an elusive chill, and wiping his wet face, looked +about. In the east, it was not quite so dark, and when he turned his +head the yacht looked blacker and not so large. Hull and sails were no +longer blurred; their outline was getting sharp, and he noted that the +balloon jib swelled in a gentle curve. One side of his face got cold and +when he began to scull again he thought the strain on the rope was less. + +A belt of smoky red spread swiftly along the horizon, he heard the high +gaff topsail flap, booms rattled and then the yacht got quiet. The tow +rope sank and when it tightened there was no jerk. _Columbine_ was +stealing up behind them. + +"In oars!" said Marston hoarsely. "Let go the warp!" + +The boat drifted back to the schooner and bumped against her side until +somebody caught a trailing rope. Marston with an effort climbed the rail +and dropping on deck saw Wyndham at the wheel. + +"Shall we hoist in? The boys are done," he said. + +Wyndham nodded. "Day's breaking; it will soon be blazing hot. The sun +may kill the wind, but I don't know. It's a fiery dawn." + +Blocks began to rattle and when the first boat swung across the rail +Marston looked about. Broad beams of light stretched across the sky and +the red sun rose out of the sea. He went to a chair under the awning and +threw himself down. He had earned a few minutes' rest, but when they had +gone he did not move and Wyndham smiled as he noted his even breath. +Beckoning a Krooboy, he sent him for a blanket and gently covered the +sleeping man. + +Marston was wakened by a lurch that threw him off the chair, and getting +up stiffly he noted the sharp slant of deck. Then he saw foam boil +behind the lee rail and straining curves of canvas that kept their +hollowness when the yacht rolled to windward. She trailed a snowy wake +across the backs of the sparkling seas and her rigging hummed on a high, +piercing note. The sky was blue, but the blue was dim and the sunshine +had lost its dazzling glare. One felt a bracing quality in the breeze. + +"Looks as if we had hit the _Trades_," he said. "What's her course?" + +"About North, North-west," said Wyndham, who sat on the stern grating +and indicated the Kroo at the wheel. "Bad Dollar is steering by the +wind. I reckoned we had better make some northing while we can. Off our +course, but the _Trades_ are fickle in this latitude. Suppose you get +your sextant. It's close on twelve o'clock." + +Marston looked at the nearly vertical sun and laughed. + +"I feel as if I'd just gone to sleep," he said and went below. + +The breeze freshened and held, _Columbine_ with all plain sail set made +good speed, and they laid off a straight course on the big Atlantic +chart. The risks of the middle passage were left behind. If they were +lucky, she would reach far across on the starboard tack, without their +shifting a rope. + +Their hopes were justified and at length they made Barbadoes, and +sailing between the Windward Isles, entered the Caribbean. One phase of +the adventure was over, but Marston with vague misgivings realized that +another had begun. Somehow he felt he had not done with the shadow he +had shrunk from in Africa. For all that, nothing happened to disturb him +as they followed the coast, stopping now and then at an open roadstead, +and now and then in the stagnant harbor of an old Spanish town. Indeed, +Marston found much that was soothingly familiar; smart liners, rusty +cargo boats, and busy hotels. In parts, the towns had been modernized, +but civilized comforts, and sometimes luxuries, contrasted sharply with +decay and customs that had ruled since the first Spaniards came. + +Wyndhams' had agents and correspondents at a number of the ports, but, +as a rule, they were dark-skinned gentlemen of uncertain stock. They +lived at old houses with flat tops and central patios, where the kitchen +generally adjoined the stable, and transacted their business in rooms +from which green shutters kept out the light. The business was +accompanied by the smoking of bitter tobacco and draining of small +_copitas_ of scented liquor. They declared their houses were Wyndham's, +but did not present him and Marston to their women. + +Except for some American and German merchants they saw few white people. +The citizens were mulattos of different shades, negroes, and half-breeds +who sprang from Spanish and Indian stock, although it was often hard to +guess what blood ran in the _Mestizos'_ veins. For the most part, they +were a cheerful, careless lot; the coast basked in sunshine, with high, +blue mountains for a background, and Marston felt nothing of the gloom +and mystery that haunted the African rivers. At some of the ports +Wyndham made arrangements for the extension of the house's trade, but +Marston could not tell if he was satisfied or not. + +When they lounged one evening on the veranda of a big white hotel, +Marston led his comrade firmly to talk about business. The hotel had +long since been the home of a Spanish grandee, and although the back was +ruinous the Moorish front had been altered and decorated by American +enterprise. Marston thought it a compromise between the styles of +Tangiers and Coney Island. The rash American had gone and the _Fonda +Malaguena_ owned the rule of a fat and urbane gentleman who claimed to +have come from Spain. For all that, the _Malaguena_ was comfortable, and +after the yacht's cramped, hot cabin, Marston liked the big shaded +rooms. The wine and food were better than he had thought, and as he sat, +looking out between the pillars, with a cup of very good coffee in +front of him, he was satisfied to stay a few more days. Small tables +occupied part of the pavement, white-clothed waiters moved about, and +people talked and laughed. A band played in the plaza and tram cars +jingled along the narrow street. There was a half moon and one could see +the black mountains behind the ancient town. + +"I don't know if I ought to grumble, but it's obvious there's not much +money to be earned at the ports we've touched," Wyndham remarked. "Where +steamers call and trade is regularly carried on, competition cuts down +profits. You must use a big capital if you want a big return." + +"It's the usual line," said Marston. "I think it's sound." + +Wyndham smiled. "You like the usual line! The trouble is, my capital is +small." + +"Then, you have another plan?" + +"I have some notions I hope to work out. Wyndhams' have agents and +stores at places farther along the coast. Steamers can't get into the +lagoons and we use sailing boats. The trade's small and risky, but the +profit's big. We'll push on and see what can be done, although I don't +expect too much." + +Marston pondered. He wanted to help Wyndham and had sometimes felt his +sportsman's life was rather objectless. For one thing, he might provide +himself with an occupation and perhaps stop Harry's embarking on rash +adventures. To invest his money would give him some control. + +"Could you make the business pay if you had a larger capital?" he +asked. + +"There are pretty good grounds for imagining so," Wyndham replied. + +"Very well! I have more money than I need and have been looking for a +chance to use my talents. So far I've kept them buried, and if I don't +dig them up soon, they might rust away. If you agree, I'd like to make a +start now and try a business speculation." He named a sum and added: +"You promised you'd take my help when you saw how you could use the +money." + +"You're generous, Bob," Wyndham remarked with a touch of feeling, and +then smiled. "However, I know you pretty well and think I understand +your plan. You want to keep me out of trouble and see I take the prudent +line. But was the plan yours or Mabel's?" + +"Mine," said Marston, rather shortly. "All the same, I imagine Mabel +would approve. But this has nothing to do with it and you needn't invent +an object for me. I'm looking for a good investment. My lawyers only get +me three or four per cent." + +"Then you make no stipulation?" + +"I do not," said Marston. "You will have control and command my help. If +I couldn't trust you with my money, I would not have gone to Africa with +you. I won't grumble if you lose the lot. The thing's a speculation." + +Wyndham knitted his brows for a few moments and then looked up. + +"You're a very good sort, Bob. I'll take the loan." + +"It's not a loan," said Marston firmly. "I'm buying a partnership." + +"A partner is responsible for all losses and liabilities. A lender is +not; he only risks the sum he invests." + +"Of course," said Marston. "I understand that." + +A touch of color came into Wyndham's face, but he smiled. + +"Oh, well, I knew you had pluck!" + +Marston got up. "Now we have agreed, we'll get to work. Let's see if the +telegraph office is open. To begin with, we'll buy the lot of ballata +your agent at the other port talked about." + +Wyndham laughed and they set off up the hot street. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE LAGOON + + +After a few days, _Columbine_ sailed west, and one night lurched slowly +across the languid swell towards the coast. There was a full moon, but +Marston, standing near the negro pilot at the wheel, could not see much. +Mist drifted about the forest ahead and he heard an ominous roar of +surf. Although no break in the coast was distinguishable, the schooner +was obviously drifting with the tide toward an opening. The wind was +light and blew off the land, laden with a smell of spices and river mud. +Marston did not like the smell: he had known it in Africa and when one +felt the sour damp one took quinine. He had studied the chart, which did +not tell him much, and since there were no marks to steer for he must +trust the negro pilot. + +There was a risk about going in at night and Marston would sooner have +hove to and waited, but the tide rose a few inches higher than at noon, +and Wyndham seldom shirked a risk when he had something to gain. By and +by he jumped down from the rail where he had been using the lead. + +"I expect we'll get in, but I don't know about getting out if we're +loaded deep," he said. + +"Do you expect much of a load?" Marston asked, because the chart did not +indicate a port. + +"It depends on our luck. Small quantities of stuff come down; scarce +dyestuffs, rubber, and forest produce that manufacturing chemists use. +We have a half-breed agent. White men can't stand the climate long, and +the natives are rather a curious lot." + +"Negroes?" said Marston thoughtfully. + +Wyndham laughed. "There are negroes. I understand the population's +pretty mixed, with a predominating strain of African blood. I expect you +don't like that, but trade's generally good at places where steamers +don't touch. Profits go up when competition's languid." + +Marston did not like it. He had thought his giving Wyndham money would +limit their business to trading at civilized ports. He imagined Harry +knew this and ought to have been satisfied, but he banished his feeling +of annoyance. After all, he had made no stipulation and was perhaps +indulging an illogical prejudice. He must, of course, trust his partner. + +The yacht stopped with a sudden jar and her stern swung round. The sails +flapped and her main boom lurched across and brought up with a crash. +She bumped hard once or twice, and then floated off and went on again. +The misty forest was nearer and a dim white belt indicated surf. It +looked as if they were steering for an unbroken beach. Then a wave of +thicker mist rolled about them and the forest was blotted out. Wyndham +jumped on the rail, and Marston heard the splash of the lead. After that +there was silence except for the roar of the surf, and Marston went +forward to see if the anchor was clear, but Wyndham said nothing and the +schooner stole on. Although the breeze was very light, the tide carried +her forward and Marston felt there was something ghostly about her +noiseless progress. By and by, however, Wyndham threw the lead on the +deck. + +"Another half-fathom! We're across the shoals," he said. "I expect the +pilot trusts the stream to keep us in the channel." + +Marston nodded. He saw trees in front, and in one place, a dark blur, +faintly edged by white, that he thought was a bank of mud, but all was +vague and somehow daunting. The trees got blacker, although they were +not more distinct, the sails flapped and then hung limp. The pilot +called out, and when Marston gave an order the anchor plunged and the +silence was broken by the roar of running chain. This died away when +_Columbine_ swung, and except for the languid rumble of the surf all was +quieter than before. The pilot got on board his canoe and vanished in +the mist, and a few minutes afterwards Marston went to the cabin. It was +very hot, but when malaria lurks in the night mist one does not sleep on +deck. + +When he awoke in the morning the cabin floor slanted, and going on deck +he saw why the pilot had told them to let the boom rest on the port +quarter. The tide had ebbed and although its rise and fall was not +large, belts of mud and channels of yellow water occupied the bed of the +lagoon. All round were dingy mangroves that overlapped and hid the +entrance. A little water flowed past the yacht, but it was plain that +her bilge rested on the ground. The bottom shelved, but the heavy boom +inclined her up the bank. There was nobody about and nothing indicated +that anybody ever visited the spot. Marston frowned, because it was hard +to persuade himself he was not in Africa. + +About noon a canoe arrived with two negroes on board and Marston and +Wyndham were paddled to a village some miles up a creek. It was a poor +place; small, whitewashed mud houses, a rusty iron store, and a row of +squalid huts occupied a clearing in the forest. Wyndhams' agent had a +house by the creek and received his visitors in his office. Outside the +sand was dazzling, but the office was dark and comparatively cool. A +reed curtain covered the window, which had no glass, there was no door, +and little puffs of wind blew in. Don Felix was a fat and greasy +mulatto, dressed in soiled white duck, with a broad red sash, in which +an ornamental Spanish knife was stuck. + +He brought out some small glasses and a bottle of scented liquor and +they began to talk and smoke. The agent's English was not good and he +now and then used French and Castilian words. Marston noted that he +talked about a number of unimportant matters before he touched on +business, and seemed unwilling to come to the subject. + +"I can give you a load, but trade is bad," he said at length, and turned +to the window with a gesture that seemed to indicate the forest. "The +people up there are lazy and for some time have not brought much produce +down." + +"It's natural produce, I suppose? Stuff that grows itself," Marston +remarked. "There isn't much cultivation in the bush?" + +Don Felix shrugged. "_Quien sabe?_ Who knows what they do up yonder? +These people they are _drôle_. Sometimes they bring me cargo. Sometimes +they come to beg; there is a _fiesta_ in their village, they make +_fandango_, _jamboree._ The trader pays for the fiesta and gets back +nothing." + +"Then why do you pay?" + +"It is better," Don Felix replied and looked at the door, as if to see +there was nobody about. "They are _bête_, the _Mestizos_, but when one +is wise one does not make enemies. There is much Obeah in the bush." + +"_Obeah_'s something like African Ju-Ju? Magic of a sort?" Marston +suggested. + +"Something like that," Wyndham agreed. "I don't know much about it." He +looked at the agent. "Do you?" + +Don Felix made the sign of the cross. "Me, I am good Catholic; I know +nothing. They are _drôle_ in the bush. When I think about their folly I +laugh." + +"Not always, I imagine," Wyndham remarked dryly. "However, we must +persuade these folks we have goods they'd find useful. That's the +beginning of trade. When a man sees he needs things somebody else has +got, he gets to work and looks for something to sell. Now let's +consider----" + +Marston listened while his comrade talked. Harry sometimes surprised +people who did not know him well. He was romantic but he had a +calculating vein. Harry could plan and bargain, and Marston reflected +that while the Wyndhams had long been adventurers they were traders, +too. After an hour's talk he had arranged much that promised to help the +agent's business and they went back to the creek. + +"In a way, we're lucky," Wyndham observed while they paddled down +stream. "The people we're going to deal with are nearly pure Africans +and we know something about negroes." + +Marston said nothing. He did not know if they were lucky or not and +rather doubted. + +They returned to the schooner and in the morning cargo began to arrive. +Two or three days afterwards Wyndham went off to the village with some +of the crew and Marston gave the others leave to go ashore. Neither the +boys nor Wyndham came back at dark, but this did not matter. Although +the schooner rose upright for a few hours when the tide flowed, she +would not float until the new moon, and the muddy lagoon was as smooth +as a pond. + +In the evening Marston sat in the little stern cabin. It was very hot +and his brain was dull but he did not want to go to bed until the crew +arrived. Moisture dripped from the ceiling and flies hovered round the +lamp that hung at an angle to the beams. The skylight was open a few +inches and although the opening was covered by mosquito gauze one could +not keep out the flies. Marston hated their monotonous buzzing, for +there is something about a mangrove swamp that frays a white man's +nerves. Water lapped against the planks and now and then there was a +splash in the mud. The tide was flowing and Marston imagined the water +round the vessel was three or four feet deep. It looked as if Wyndham +meant to stay away all night, and Marston wondered with a slight +uneasiness what was keeping him. + +A mahogany medicine chest stood on the small swing table. It was of the +type supplied to British merchant ships, but larger, and the London +chemists had fitted it with the latest drugs used in the tropics. There +was a book about them and Marston had meant to re-arrange the bottles +and packets, which had got displaced. He was not a doctor, but he had +studied the book and found it interesting. Tropical diseases were +strange and numerous, and he had made some cautious experiments on the +crew. Now his head ached rather badly and he wondered whether he would +take some quinine. + +Presently he put down the book and listened. Something had disturbed +him, but for a few moments he only heard the splash of the tide. Then +the scuttle over his head opened and a naked foot felt for the ladder. +The foot was white underneath, but although he was somewhat startled, +Marston did not think this strange. He had noted that negroes' and +mulattos' soles are often lighter in color than the rest of their skin. + +He sat still until a half naked man, who came backwards down the ladder, +turned and confronted him with an apologetic smile. The fellow was old +and his face was wrinkled and a curious yellow color. Marston had in +Africa seen badly jaundiced white men look something like that, although +the sickly tint was not so dark. A network of red veins covered his eyes +but they looked as if they had been blue. His hair was all white. He put +a small carved calabash on the table and then squatted on the cabin +floor. + +Marston frowned and waited. The carving had an African touch and it was +an African custom for a visitor to bring a present. The negroes called +it a _dash_. + +"Cappy lib for village?" the mulatto remarked and Marston nodded. + +He had not heard a canoe and wondered how the fellow got on board, since +his thin cotton clothes were dry. Moreover, although the half-breeds +Marston had met generally used creole French or uncouth Castilian, the +other said _lib for_, like a West African. + +"Bad country; white man sick too much. You sick now?" the mulatto +resumed, glancing at the chest. + +Marston made a sign of agreement. His head ached and he felt languid. It +was possible he had a mild dose of fever. + +"I fix you," said the mulatto, who pulled out a small brass box and +emptied some brown powder on the table. "You drink him in hot water." + +"Thank you," said Marston and scraped the stuff onto a piece of paper, +thinking he might experiment with it. The fellow could have no object +for trying to poison him and he understood the half-breeds knew some +useful cures. + +"Now you dash me a drink," said the other, looking at a bottle of whisky +in the rack, and Marston rather wondered why he took down the bottle. +The whisky was extra good; he did not like mulattoes, and knew no reason +for his entertaining his uninvited guest. Yet he put a glass on the +table; one glass. + +He imagined the other understood the significance of this, for his eyes +momentarily narrowed. It was strange, but they now looked blue. For all +that, he poured out a liberal measure of whisky and drank slowly, like a +connoisseur. + +Marston studied him with some curiosity and on the whole felt repelled. +The old fellow looked cunning and greedy, but not debased. One got a +hint of cruelty and power, and his manner was very calm. In West +Africa, Marston would perhaps have kicked him out, but pure white men +are not numerous on the south and west coasts of the Caribbean and the +distinction of color is relaxed. Besides, he reflected, he was engaged +in trading with the natives. + +"You lib for here for buy thing," the other remarked presently. "What +thing you want?" + +Marston mentioned some articles Wyndham had talked about, and the other +nodded. "You go make me dash and you get them thing. Agent man fool man; +him no savvy black man's way in bush." + +"If the stuff comes along, we'll talk about the dash," Marston answered +cautiously, although he did not like his visitor and wondered when he +would go. + +"When white cappy come back?" the old fellow asked. + +"In the morning, I expect," said Marston with a yawn. + +The other got up as if he were going, and turned sideways in order to +pass between the swing-table and the locker. There was not much room, +for one does not lean against a swing-table, which keeps its level by a +counterbalance underneath when the vessel rolls. It looked as if the +mulatto knew this, and Marston thought it strange. Next moment, however, +he struck his naked foot against the fastenings in the deck and, +stumbling, put his arm on the table. The table tilted and the medicine +chest slipped off. It turned over as it fell and emptied bottles, +packets, scales, and measures on the deck. + +The mulatto looked at the disordered pile and made for the ladder. +Marston did not stop him, although he was angry, and kneeling down began +to pick up the articles. The bottles were strong and had not broken, +and in a minute or two he replaced them and the other things in the box. +Then he went up the ladder and looked out on deck. A lamp hung on the +forestay as a beacon for the boats and one could see the sweep of planks +and line of the rail. There was nobody about and nothing broke the +silence. Beyond the feeble glimmer of the lamp it was very dark, but the +night was calm and Marston knew the splash of a paddle would carry far. + +He crossed the deck and looked over the rail. The water caught a faint +reflection and he saw muddy foam and weed float past. The tide was +rising and running up the lagoon. One could hardly wade to land and it +was obviously impossible to do so without making a noise. Yet his +visitor had vanished and he had not heard him go. Marston remembered +stories about the Ghost Leopards he had heard in Africa, and laughed, +but the laugh was forced. + +He went back to the cabin and, shutting the hatch, examined the medicine +chest. He did not know if he was surprised to find two articles had +gone; one was a bottle of laudanum and the other a packet of new and +powerful drugs. The book warned one to be careful about their use. +Marston lighted a cigarette and pondered. He was not certain the bottle +and packet were in the box when he got it down, although he thought they +were; he had sometimes taken things out when he dosed the crew and he +had used laudanum. Moreover, it looked impossible that the mulatto had +picked them up. So far as Marston remembered, he did stoop down or stop. +Then, supposing he had taken the stuff, it was hard to see why a man +who was half a savage should steal laudanum and the other drug. + +If Obeah was like West African Ju-Ju, there were no doubt men who used +poison to support their claim to magical power; but strange and virulent +poisons could be extracted from tropical plants. Besides the fellow had +given Marston a cure for fever. Perhaps he was making a dangerous +experiment, but his curiosity conquered his caution and he resolved to +try the stuff. Going to the galley, he found some hot water, and as he +came back noted that one could see into the cabin through the +half-opened skylight. He wondered whether the mulatto had looked down +and noted the medicine chest. The brown powder melted, and he swallowed +the draught. Then he got into his bunk, and blowing out the lamp, +presently went to sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DON FELIX'S REVOLT + + +When Marston woke in the morning his headache and languidness had gone. +It looked as if the powder the mulatto had left had cured him, and +although he did not find the laudanum and packet of drugs, he resolved +he would not bother about their loss. In a day or two, small lots of +rather valuable cargo began to arrive and one afternoon Marston and +Wyndham lounged under the awning and watched the Krooboys transfer goods +from a big canoe to the yacht. Four or five negroes from up river put +the fiber packages in the hoisting slings. + +The men worked slackly, for although the sun was hidden the heat was +extreme. A yellow haze covered the sky, but the oily surface of the +lagoon shimmered with subdued light. On the other side, the reflection +of the mangroves floated motionless, without a leaf quivering. Dark +shadow lurked in the caves under the high roots, and here and there the +massed foliage was touched by dirty white. Marston thought the trees +looked as if they were blighted by some foul disease. He hated the +mangroves and the smell of mud that hung about the vessel. + +"The tides are beginning to get higher," he said. "It will be a relief +to leave this dismal spot and go to sea." + +"Calling here has paid us," Wyndham rejoined. "We are getting stuff for +which dyers and chemists give high prices; stuff I wanted but hardly +expected to obtain. In fact, I'll own your mysterious visitor has earned +his dash. No doubt he'll turn up again and ask for it." + +"D'you reckon he had much to do with our getting the goods?" + +Wyndham shrugged. "I understand he promised you the articles you talked +about, and they have arrived. If he comes again, I'd like to see him. +Perhaps he could be persuaded to send us something else." + +"He asked for you," said Marston, and wondered whether his remark was +rash when he saw Wyndham was pondering. Although Bob felt he was perhaps +illogical, he did not want Harry to persuade the fellow. + +"I think you said his eyes were blue," Wyndham resumed presently. "Well, +one does meet a mulatto with blue eyes now and then, and it's perhaps +not important that the bottom of his feet was white----" + +Wyndham stopped, for a splash of paddles broke the silence, and when a +canoe stole out of the shadow across the lagoon Marston said. "We may +learn something about him now. Here's your agent, Don Felix." + +He thought Wyndham was going to reply, but he hesitated and then crossed +the deck as the agent and another man came on board. Marston called the +steward, who put a small table under the awning and brought out a bottle +of choice liquor they had bought at the last port. The party sat down +and Marston studied his guests. On the whole, he liked Don Felix and +thought him honest. The fellow's greasy fat face was frank and his black +eyes met one's glance squarely. For all that, he thought he did not +look well; there was a hint of strain about him and his hand shook when +he greedily drained his glass. The climate, however, was unhealthy, and +Marston turned to their other guest. + +Father Sebastian was white, although his skin was dark and wrinkled. He +was very thin and his threadbare clothes were slack; his hair was white +and his eyes were sunk. He looked about with a frank curiosity and +Marston imagined it was long since he had been on board a ship and had +met civilized white men. + +By and by Don Felix began to talk about the cargo and declared that he +was puzzled, because he had not received so large a quantity of valuable +goods for some time. + +"It looks as if the people in the bush were working," he remarked and +added dryly: "They work when they are forced." + +Marston told him about the mulatto's visit, and Don Felix's face got +dark. He drained his glass and turning to Father Sebastian repeated +Marston's story in awkward French. + +"I do not like it," he said, "This foul Bat! I think he is plotting +again." + +Father Sebastian made a sign of agreement and addressed Marston, whose +curiosity was obvious. He spoke slowly, as if it cost him an effort to +remember words, but Marston thought his French was good. + +"An evil man! He is called the Bat because he likes the dark. Moreover +they talk about bats that drink human blood." + +"If there are such creatures, why don't you kill them?" Marston asked +and glanced at Wyndham. He was smoking a cigarette and looked rather +bored, but Marston knew his friend and doubted. + +"The Bat is hard to kill. Some have tried, but perhaps I may be +luckier," Don Felix answered, and his fat, nervous fingers touched his +Spanish knife. Then he shrugged. "All the same, it is possible he kills +me!" + +The others said nothing. Don Felix was rather theatrical, but Marston +thought him strongly moved by anger or fear. By and by Don Felix went to +the hatch and examined one or two of the packages the Krooboys were +putting in the hold. + +"What is this?" he asked. "These packages have a mark I know but I did +not buy the goods." + +"The shipper will, no doubt, come to you for payment and we'll engage to +meet the bill," Wyndham replied. "The stuff is getting very scarce and +ought to sell for a good price." + +"No!" exclaimed Don Felix angrily. "I buy nothing with that mark! You +must stop the boys loading the lot. Send it all back." + +"Isn't this ridiculous?" Wyndham asked. "Why do you want us to refuse +the goods?" + +Don Felix sat down and gripped the arm of his chair hard. "The man whose +mark that is is a friend of the Bat's," he said, and his voice got +hoarse. "I do not know if the goods are his or the other's, but I will +not buy the stuff. Bad luck would go with the money one earned by +handling it." + +He said something to Father Sebastian in rapid creole French and the +priest turned to Wyndham. + +"It is better that you send back this cargo," he remarked quietly. "Don +Felix is an honest man. He has given you advice that may cost him much." +Marston pondered, with his eyes on his guest. Father Sebastian was old +and shabby; he had obviously lived long with his savage flock, but he +was white. His glance was calm and thoughtful and he had a touch of +dignity. Marston thought he knew much about human nature and could be +trusted. Don Felix, however, got up and clenched his fist. It looked as +if the company of the priest and the others had given him some resolve. + +"What do I care about the cost?" he exclaimed in French. "I was afraid +and I paid. Me, a good Catholic, I paid that these pigs might serve +their devil! But it has gone on long, and now I stop. This dirty Bat +will come between me and my employer; he leaves me out. Well, let it be +so!" He paused and spread out his hand with a theatrical gesture that +Marston thought was meant for the negroes in the canoe. "Now I fight. My +trade is my blood. I will kill this Bat!" + +Father Sebastian shook his head, but Don Felix turned to Wyndham and +resumed in a defiant voice. "You will send back the packages? If not, +you must get another agent." + +"Very well," agreed Wyndham. "You can tell the boys to unload the goods +you don't like." + +He gave Don Felix a quick glance and Marston wondered whether he +expected him to hesitate, but the mulatto went back to the hatch and +gave his orders resolutely. Marston remembered that another lot of fiber +packages had been stowed at the bottom of the hold before the agent +arrived and were now probably out of sight. Wyndham however, said +nothing about these and filled Father Sebastian's glass. + +"Our friend is superstitious," he remarked. "You know something about +Obeah, and Voodoo magic. I expect the men who teach the cult use cunning +tricks. But how much is trickery?" + +"Ah," said Father Sebastian, "Who can tell? There are powers that rule +the dark. You know it is permitted when you have lived in the gloom. +Perhaps Don Felix is superstitious, but he takes a hard path. It is the +right path; I think he is brave." Then he paused and smiled. "I am old +and have lived in this country long. There is much about Voodoo and +other things that puzzles me; but this I know. They who walk in the +light need fear no lasting hurt." + +"Sometimes one's light gets dim," said Marston. + +"That is when we stray into the shadow and our eyes are dull. The light +burns steadily; it will not go out." + +Don Felix came back from the hatch and stopped for dinner. When he and +Father Sebastian had gone, Marston asked Wyndham: "What about the other +lot of goods that was already in the hold?" + +"Well?" said Wyndham. "Do you see any object for our returning the +stuff? For that matter, I don't know to whom it ought to be returned." + +Marston said the goods could wait at the village until the owner claimed +payment. "We promised Don Felix we would not take this cargo," he added. + +"You mean, I promised?" Wyndham rejoined. "My promise applied to the +particular lot he grumbled about. Anyhow, I want the goods. We can sell +them for a high price." + +Marston admitted that the argument was plausible, although he doubted if +it were ethically sound. Still he must not be fastidiously critical +about his friend. He was rich and free from one kind of temptation; +Harry was poor. Wyndham noted his hesitation and resumed: + +"Our voyage is not a yachting excursion. We are frankly out for what we +can earn, and I'm, so to speak, now on trial. I'm young and the head of +a house that people knew was tottering when I took control. Chisholm and +Flora's relations have reserved their judgment; they're willing to give +me a fair chance, but wait to see what I can do. Well, you know my +drawbacks and how much depends on my making good. In order to do so, +I'll run all risks." + +Marston thought there was a risk Wyndham did not see. Flora Chisholm was +honest and proud. Her lover's success would not satisfy her if she +disapproved the means he used. This, however, was an awkward subject and +Marston owned that to imagine Harry would give her grounds for +disapproving was taking much for granted. He let the matter go and began +to talk about something else. + +For all that, when Wyndham left him he lighted a fresh cigarette and +mused. Harry was his friend, but he began to see he had got a habit of +making allowances for him that he might not have made for others. Harry +had a strange charm and individuality; somehow one could not judge him +by conventional rules. Then Marston remembered that Mabel had let him +go in order that he might be Harry's protector, but the dangers he was +to be guarded from were not physical. Marston understood this better now +and doubted if he were clever enough for the job; Mabel did not mean him +to be a hypercritical prig. Anyhow, he had undertaken the job and Mabel, +perhaps rather foolishly, trusted him. He threw his cigarette away and +went off to superintend the stowage of the cargo. + +The moon was getting small and the tides were higher when, one evening, +a messenger asked them to come to the village. They went up river in the +mist, and Marston felt languid and dejected. The day had been very hot +and it was not much cooler at dark. The stagnant air was hard to +breathe, there was something daunting in the silence, and the splash of +paddles sounded harshly loud. When they landed they found Don Felix +alone in his house except for a half-breed woman and Father Sebastian. +He lay in a fiber hammock and Marston saw he was very ill. His black +eyes were half shut, his face was a livid color and wet with clammy +sweat. + +The room was brightly lighted and the half-breed woman sat on the ground +in a limp, huddled pose, with a black shawl hiding her shoulders and +head. She did not move when the others came in, but Don Felix's glance +hinted at relief, and Father Sebastian indicated two American bent-wood +chairs that looked strangely out of harmony with the mud walls and +floor. + +"If we had known you were ill, we would have brought our medicine +chest," Marston said. "What is the matter?" + +"Who knows?" said Don Felix, dully, and Marston imagined the Castilian +rejoinder meant his question admitted of no reply. "I will not live +until the morning, but I have lived longer than I sometimes thought. It +does not matter now the good father and my friends have come. I am no +more afraid." + +Marston was puzzled; somehow Don Felix looked afraid. The first part of +his statement was easier to understand, because Marston had learned in +Africa that negroes and uncivilized half-breeds slip easily out of life +and often seem to know when theirs will end. But if Don Felix was not +afraid to go, what did he fear? + +"Is there nobody about? Where are the working boys?" Wyndham asked. + +"They have gone; they _know_," Don Felix replied, and Marston felt half +daunted as he asked himself; What did the boys know? "But you will +stay?" the other went on anxiously. + +"Of course," said Wyndham in a quiet voice. + +Father Sebastian looked up, as if to thank him, and Marston saw Harry +had taken the proper line. He felt there was no use in trying to +persuade Don Felix he was not very ill. It was significant that the +priest had not tried. + +"Now we will talk a little," Don Felix said to Wyndham. "There is some +business to talk about." + +Wyndham glanced at Father Sebastian, who made a sign of permission, and +then got up and went to the door with Marston. They sat down on a bench +outside and a beam of light and the dull voices of the others came +through the door. Marston did not hear the woman; she had not spoken at +all, but sat motionless and huddled. He had not seen her face and never +knew what she was like. All was quiet in the village, and outside the +feeble beam the gloom was strangely deep. Marston sympathized with Don +Felix's liking for plenty of light. + +"What has caused his illness?" he asked. + +"Poison, I think," Father Sebastian replied. "Our friend is a good +Catholic, but he is half persuaded it is something else." + +"The other thing's ridiculous, though I suppose they claim to use magic +in the bush. But you ought to know something about native poisons." + +"I know many, but Don Felix's symptoms are strange," said Father +Sebastian, quietly. + +Marston asked him about the symptoms and carefully noted his answers. +Then he remarked: "I don't altogether understand why the boys left him." + +"They were afraid. In this country, it is rash to help a victim of +Voodoo." + +"But they are your people; I mean, they belong to your flock." + +"They are human and one must not expect too much from men who have long +walked in the gloom. The old gods are powerful." + +"The Obeah gods are devils!" Marston declared with an anger that rather +surprised himself. + +Father Sebastian glanced at the surrounding dark, in which blurred trees +vaguely loomed. + +"It is possible there are devils yonder. Things are done they would +approve," he remarked quietly. + +"I understand the Bat is Don Felix's enemy. Do you think he poisoned +him?" + +"I do not know. Perhaps we shall never know. In this country, many +people are poisoned." + +Marston clenched his fist. "Don Felix is Wyndhams' agent and I'm a +partner in the house. If I find out who poisoned him, I'll see the +fellow is held accountable." + +He stopped, for Wyndham came to the door, beckoning the priest. + +"He wants you," he said, and they went in. + +Marston long remembered the next hour or two. At first Don Felix was +shaken by spasms of pain and groaned, but was silent afterwards. His +eyes were dull and half shut, and when they opened wider they turned +apprehensively to the open door. Sometimes he glanced about the room and +Marston thought he took courage when he saw Father Sebastian sitting +near his hammock and Wyndham in the background. Yet he was obviously +afraid and his fear was disturbing. + +For the most part all was very quiet, but sometimes there were noises +that jarred Marston's nerves. Although the night was calm, leaves +rustled in the dark and one heard sounds like the stealthy tread of +naked feet. Marston fancied shadows lurked about the edge of the beam +from the door and found it hard to persuade himself he was deceived, +although he knew nobody was there. For a minute or two moisture splashed +outside, as if somebody had struck a branch and shaken down big drops. +The noise stopped and Marston felt the silence worse. + +Now and then he glanced at Wyndham. The latter did not move and looked +straight in front, but his quietness was significant and his mouth was +firm. Marston imagined he bore some strain, but it was often hard to +tell what Harry felt and thought. At length, Don Felix moved his hand +awkwardly, as if he felt for something to which he could cling, and the +slack movement did not stop until he felt Father Sebastian's grasp. His +haunted look was plainer, although he was now too weak to glance at the +door. It jarred Marston strangely, and getting up he went out. + +Half-an-hour afterwards there was a wild cry in the house and Marston +shivered. It was the woman's voice and he knew why she had cried out. +Then Wyndham came to the door, and standing with his back against the +light, looked about for his comrade. + +"We need not stay now," he said. "He was calm at the last and had all +the consolation Father Sebastian could give him. An honest man, and +brave, I think, believing what it's obvious he did believe!" + +"He trusted you," Marston remarked, meaningly. + +"It's possible he found our being about some help. We stayed while we +were needed." + +"That is not what I mean," Marston rejoined. "If ever I saw a man fight +with fear, I watched the horrible battle to-night! The fellow was your +agent and somebody who destroyed his body sent an unthinkable horror to +torment his mind. The thing's devilish! What are you going to do about +it?" + +"What can I do?" said Wyndham. "I have nothing to go upon." + +Marston made a sign of agreement, but his face was very stern. "Some +day, perhaps, we'll find out who's accountable. I mean to try." + +Wyndham said nothing and they went back to the canoe. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MARSTON USES HIS POWER + + +Soon after Don Felix was buried two strangers visited the schooner. One +was white but so burned by the sun and worn by the climate that he +looked like a native. Peters was agent for a Hamburg merchant house with +a factory on a neighboring lagoon, and told Wyndham he had come because +he seldom met a white man. The other was a government officer and +stated, apologetically, that his business was to make a few inquiries +about Don Felix's death. His skin was nearly white, but his coarse lips +and short, curling hair indicated a strain of negro blood. + +Marston knew something about the officials who held small posts on the +Caribbean coast. For the most part, they were mulattos, paid low wages +and willing to augment the latter by presents and bribes. As a rule, he +had found them good-humored and indolent, and he imagined Don Ramon +Larrinaga would be satisfied with a few particulars and a little money. +There was, he thought, no use in trying to put him on the track of the +unknown poisoner. He let Wyndham take the man to the cabin and sat under +the awning on deck with Peters, for whom he opened a bottle of vermouth. + +Peters knew much about the country and told him some rather curious +stories. He looked shriveled and desiccated, but his glance was keen and +Marston imagined he was very shrewd. Marston, however, did not study +him much; it was enough that he was an amusing companion while Wyndham +was occupied. By-and-by the latter opened the cabin scuttle and +beckoned. + +"You have some paper money, Bob. Lend me a few bills," he said. + +Marston asked the sum he wanted and was surprised when Wyndham told him. + +"Is it necessary to give him so much?" he asked. + +"Perhaps it's advisable. We'll soon be ready for sea and I expect the +fellow could keep us here while he made fresh inquiries and wrote +reports. He's polite, but he rather hinted something like that. Of +course, he has no notion of really finding out why Don Felix died." + +"We want to find out," Marston rejoined. + +Wyndham smiled. "That's another thing; the government officials don't +want to bother. If we knew who was accountable, it would be hard to get +them to move. However, Don Ramon is waiting----" + +Marston took out his wallet and after giving Wyndham some money went +back to Peters, whose eyes twinkled. + +"Your partner knows the customs of the country," he remarked. "On the +whole, it pays to be generous. In a climate like this, it's prudent to +save oneself unnecessary trouble." + +"We don't want to avoid trouble," Marston replied. "If I was persuaded +our agent was poisoned and could get on the poisoner's track, I'd use +some energy to follow it up." + +Peters shrugged. "You can do nothing; better let it rest. In the fever +swamps, men who are well one day often die the next. It is possible they +have an enemy in the bush, but the law does not reach up yonder. +Sickness is common and human life is cheap." + +They talked about something else until Wyndham and Larrinaga came on the +deck. The latter bowed to Marston when his canoe was paddled to the +gangway. + +"I thank you and your partner, señor," he said. "If I can be of help, +remember I am your servant." + +"It was nothing," Marston replied. "I expect Señor Wyndham has told you +all we know, but if you can find out anything important, you'll earn our +gratitude. The man who tells me why Don Felix died can count on his +reward." + +Peters gave him a curious glance and smiled. "After all, the reward may +perhaps be claimed. It is not likely, I admit, but things one does not +look for sometimes happen." + +He got into the canoe and when the negroes paddled off Marston leaned +against the rail. + +"I suppose we need expect nothing from Larrinaga," he remarked. "How +much did you tell him?" + +"All I thought it useful for him to know," said Wyndham, rather dryly. +"He's a common type; lazy and greedy. Now he's got his bribe, I don't +suppose he'll bother us. What did you think about the other?" + +"I didn't study him much. Amusing fellow, but you get a hint of force. I +imagine he's clever and a man who can hold on. Anyhow, he doesn't +matter, since it's improbable we'll see him again. We'll have the holds +full in a day or two and I've had enough of the lagoon." + +"All the same, I'm rather afraid we can't get away just yet." + +Marston began to grumble, but Wyndham smiled. + +"There are things to straighten out and now we have no agent I may be +needed, but it won't be necessary for you to stay. In fact, I'd like you +to take the schooner to the next port and transship the cargo. Then you +could come back for me and the extra load I half expect, but I'll know +more when I've been to the village, and we'll talk about this again." + +Wyndham started for the village next day, and when it was getting dark +Marston lounged on deck looking out for the boat. Some of the crew had +gone with Wyndham, the rest were in the forecastle, and except for the +cook at the galley door Marston had the deck to himself. The yacht was +slowly lifting with the tide, which spread across the mud banks in the +lagoon. Thin mist drifted about the mangroves and there was not a breath +of wind. The water glimmered with faint reflections but in a few minutes +it would be dark. + +Presently Marston, looking over the rail, imagined there was somebody +behind him on the deck. For a moment or two, however, he did not turn. +He had heard no step and had recently felt himself highly strung. It +looked as if Don Felix's death had given him a jar, but he was not going +to indulge his shaken nerves. Still he felt there was somebody about and +he slowly and deliberately looked round. The mulatto who had visited him +before squatted on the deck, as if he had been there some time. Marston +thought he saw amusement in his wrinkled face and his anger arose. + +"Cappy Wyndham lib for on board?" the old fellow asked. + +"He is not on board," said Marston roughly. "What do you want?" + +"You done get them cargo?" + +"We did. I don't know if you had much to do with it, but I suppose you +expect your dash. What would you like? Money?" + +The other shook his head. "Money no good. My friend sick too much. You +dash me some medicine." + +Marston remembered the packet of drugs and found it needful to use some +control. He did not know if the mulatto was the Bat or not, but on the +whole thought he was and the horror of his watch at Don Felix's house +was fresh. Yet he had nothing to go upon and would not be justified in +throwing the fellow overboard. The other watched him with bloodshot +eyes, and although his face was inscrutable, Marston began to feel +uneasy. He wondered whether the fellow was something of a hypnotist, for +he got a hint of force; force that he thought malevolent. Looking +forward along the deck, he imagined he saw the cook at the galley door, +but the indistinct figure vanished and Marston felt it was significant +that the negro had gone inside. Then he braced himself and looked back. + +"I will not give you medicine, but since we did get the cargo, perhaps +you deserve something," he said. "Wait a minute." + +Going to the cabin, he opened a locker in which they had put a quantity +of African trade goods. The stuff was rubbish, made to please the +negro's eye; brass, jewelry, cheap scent, colored flannel jackets, and +frail umbrellas. Marston picked up as much as he could carry and was +conscious of rather dry amusement as he climbed the ladder. His visitor +had obviously learned English in West Africa and he was going to give +him the usual African dash, but he knew the old fellow had no use for +the stuff. It was like giving a philosopher a child's toy. + +"There you are!" said Marston, throwing down the articles. "Now get +off!" + +"I lib for see Cappy Wyndham," the other objected. + +"Get off the ship," said Marston. "Don't come back!" + +He wondered how the man would go. There was no canoe about and the water +round the vessel was three or four feet deep; she lay obliquely to the +beach. It was ridiculous to imagine the other had vanished on his last +visit, but Marston had not seen how he went. Now, however, he meant to +watch. + +The mulatto picked up the load of rubbish and went forward along the +deck. He jumped on the end of the bowsprit and Marston smiled, for it +looked as if he could not use his tricks when one kept one's eye on him. +Balancing himself cautiously, he walked along the spar and melted in the +dark. But in a few moments there was a splash and Marston knew he had +dropped from the bowsprit's end into shallow water. Somehow this was +soothing and he went to the cabin. In an hour or two Wyndham returned +and when they lighted their pipes after supper Marston remarked: + +"The old fellow Don Felix imagined was the Bat turned up again." + +"Ah," said Wyndham, who looked interested. "Don Felix hadn't seen him; +we don't know he is the Bat." + +"Father Sebastian agreed that he was, and I haven't much doubt. He said +the man was evil and I think evil's the proper word. He gives me a +strange nervous shrinking. Have you felt a kind of nausea when you +looked at something repulsive? Well, I feel like that when he's about." + +"As a rule, you don't let your imagination carry you away," Wyndham +remarked. "I expect the heat and the dismal surroundings account for +much." + +"Anyhow, I gave him a dash and ordered him off the boat." + +Wyndham glanced up rather sharply. "Why? We have got some valuable +goods, and although we'll have to pay their owners, it looks as if the +old fellow was useful." + +"I don't want any goods he sends," Marston rejoined. "My notion is +they're better left alone. Then I'm a partner, and although I haven't +meddled much, I felt I ought to use my power." + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "You are a partner, I suppose we must let it +go." + +They talked about something else and next evening Marston took the +schooner's dinghy and rowed down the lagoon. He had heard curlew whistle +in the dark and wondered whether the birds were as wild as they are in +England. For a time he followed the edge of the mangroves, where water +dripped from the arched roots, and amphibious things splashed in the +muddy caves; and then skirted a sloppy bank the tide flowed across. Now +and then he saw a curlew but did not get a shot, and by and by he put +down the oars. The damp heat was enervating and he rested and looked +about. + +It would soon be dark and the mangroves cut in a straight black line +against a fading orange glow. The land-breeze began to shake the leaves +and now and then a pale branch moved. All was very quiet but for the +dull rumble of the surf outside. Marston felt languid and vaguely +disturbed. There was something about Wyndham that puzzled him. When they +were at sea he did not want a better friend, but it was different when +they went ashore to trade. Well, he had come to look after Harry and now +understood better why Mabel had let him go. Perhaps Harry really needed +to be looked after. Marston was staunch, but he knew Mabel had not +altogether trusted his comrade. + +There was another thing; he must soon sail the schooner to the next port +and he wanted to go, but Harry meant to stay. Marston did not like this, +although he could think of no logical objection. The mulatto's visits +bothered him. The fellow had asked for Wyndham and somehow Marston would +sooner they did not meet. Perhaps the thing was ridiculous, but he felt +like that. + +It got dark and although there was no obvious reason for his return he +felt he ought to get back to the yacht. Recently he had felt highly +strung. This was, no doubt, the consequence of pottering about the +unhealthy swamps, but he must control his illogical impulses and he +lighted his pipe while he let the dinghy drift with the tide. + +She floated quietly up the lagoon and presently he saw _Columbine_'s +lights in the mist. Pulling a few languid strokes, he let the boat drift +again until the vessel's dark side was close ahead. Then he put out his +hand and seized a rope. He wore rubber boots, because he had thought he +might wade across the mud, and made no noise when he stepped down from +the rail. There was nobody on deck, but a light shone in the cabin and +when he went aft he heard voices. The skylight was open and one of the +voices was the old mulatto's. + +Marston stopped abruptly. He wanted to go down and turn out the fellow, +but doubted if he would be justified, although he was Wyndham's partner. +Somehow it was unthinkable the brute and his comrade should engage in +quiet talk. For all that, he did not go, and turning back a few yards +stopped again. He must not be a fool, and no doubt the fellow had come +to talk about some goods his friends in the bush could supply. Marston +did not want the goods, but forced himself to wait. + +By and by a shadowy figure came out from the cabin hatch. It made no +noise and Marston would not have seen it had not the indistinct black +object for a moment cut against the light. Outside the beam from the +open hatch all was misty and dark. Still Marston thought the fellow knew +he was there, because he vanished as if he had gone behind the mast. +Marston did not bother about him and went down to the cabin. + +There was liquor on the table and Wyndham had obviously just drained the +glass he held. His hand shook as he put it down, his face was rather +white, and drops of sweat stood on his forehead. It looked as if he had +got a knock, although Marston knew Harry's nerve was good. + +"I couldn't get near the curlew, so I came back," he remarked, +awkwardly. + +Wyndham looked up, with an obvious effort for calm. "Oh, well, since you +are here, you might turn out the boys and heave up the slack cable." + +Marston noted that Wyndham's voice was hoarse, but thought it better to +conquer his curiosity. Harry might give him his confidence later, and in +the meantime to heave the cable taut would obviate their bringing the +boys up again. The tide was rising and they wanted to float the schooner +off the mud. He went forward to call the crew and the clank of the +windlass and rattle of chain were soothing, since they indicated that +_Columbine_ was ready for sea. Marston owned that he would be glad to +get away from the lagoon. He was occupied for some time and when he went +back to the cabin Wyndham looked calm. + +"We'll keep her off the beach after this," he said. "Sorry you didn't +get a shot. The curlew seem as wild as they are at home." + +"I don't want her to take the beach again," Marston remarked. "When do +we sail?" + +"You'll sail as soon as the pilot thinks there's water enough on the +bar. He comes to-morrow." + +"But you mean to stay?" + +"I must stay," said Wyndham. "We haven't an agent and I'm on the track +of some business I can't neglect." + +Marston saw there was no use in urging his comrade to go. Harry's mouth +was ominously firm. He wondered whether Harry would tell him what the +mulatto had talked about, but he did not and soon after supper they went +to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MARSTON GOES TO SEA + + +The new moon shone in a clear sky and the tide was nearly full. Puffs of +warm land-breeze shook the mangroves and drove small ripples against +_Columbine_'s side. She rode to the flood stream, ready for sea, and the +clank of her windlass rolled across the swamps. The negro crew were +shortening cable and sang as they hove at the levers. + +Wyndham was talking to Peters, who had arrived in the afternoon, and +Marston, standing near them, frowned. He was annoyed that Peters had +come, because he had wanted to talk to Wyndham and after the other's +arrival this was impossible. It was unlucky he had put it off, but he +did not see why Harry had urged the fellow to stay and go back to the +village with him when the schooner sailed. Marston felt rather hurt, +since it almost looked as if Harry had kept Peters in order to prevent +him trying to satisfy his curiosity. + +Marston was curious. The old mulatto had told Harry something that had +given him a bad jar; Bob could not forget his comrade's strained look +when he entered the cabin, and he had found no clew to the puzzle. It +was a relief to go to sea, but the satisfaction he had expected to get +was dulled. He felt as if he were running away and leaving his partner +when the latter needed him. Yet somebody must go and Harry would not. + +"Short up, sah!" a Krooboy shouted when the windlass stopped. The pilot +gave an order, and the foresail began to rise with a rattle of blocks. +The canvas flapped and swelled, and Marston went forward. + +"Break out the anchor," he said. "Hoist the inner jib." + +Dark figures rose and fell with the windlass-bars; slowly at first, then +faster, as with a harsh clank the chain ran through the pipe. Marston +had generally found the noise inspiriting. It hinted at adventure on the +open sea, but it did not move him now; he was not leaving the lagoon for +good. Yet he was soothed when _Columbine_ began to move. After lying on +the mud, he liked to feel her lift as she met the gentle swell the tide +brought in, and hear the ripple splash about her bows. The mangroves +stole past, a gap opened in the trees, and a faintly-glittering track +led out to sea. + +"Hoist the mainsail," said the pilot, and the splash of ripples was +louder when the dark canvas rose. + +She drove out with the land-breeze and met the rollers on the bar. They +were not high and hardly broke, only one here and there melting into +foam. She lurched across with dry decks, and when the leadsman got +deeper water the pilot brought her round and pulled up his canoe. +Marston went to the gangway with Wyndham and Peters, and the latter +laughed as he gave him his hand. + +"I don't know if we'll meet again, but it's possible," he said. "You +offered a good reward for some information not long since. I wonder +whether you were rash." + +"The offer stands," Marston replied. "The man who tells me all about our +agent's death will find me generous." + +"Oh, well," said Peters. "I can't state that I expect to claim the +reward, but after all I might. Then I hope we'll both be satisfied." + +Marston let him go. He would have given much for ten minutes' frank talk +with Wyndham, but this was impossible. The pilot was waiting and the +yacht drifting near a dangerous shoal. He resigned himself and gave his +comrade his hand. + +"Run no risks and take care of yourself until I come back," he said. + +"Good luck!" said Wyndham and jumped into the canoe. + +Marston signed to the steersman, the sails filled, and the canoe dropped +astern. _Columbine_ gathered speed and listed down, throwing spray about +while the water foamed below her lee rail. Small white waves rolled down +the glittering track ahead and Marston's mood got lighter. After all, it +was a relief to put to sea; the salt wind was tonic and blew morbid +thoughts away. It was bracing to grapple with breaking waves and savage +squalls. + +He looked astern. The canoe had vanished and a misty line indicated the +land. Marston was conscious of a strange repugnance as he watched it +fade. Sickness lurked in the steamy forest, where the gloom was touched +by mystery and something of horror. For a time, he had done with it, and +he would come back strengthened and invigorated by the change. + +He gave the helmsman the course, and going to the cabin, opened a tin +box that held letters for England and manifests of cargo. He must copy +these out on the bills of lading when he transshipped the goods and as +he studied the lists he felt some surprise. _Columbine_ did not carry +much but her freight was valuable. Some had been put on board without +his knowing and he thought it strange Wyndham had not talked about its +cost. For example, there were small pearls. One found pearls at places +on the Caribbean, but the fisheries were jealously guarded and none were +near the lagoon. Then there was a packet of ambergris and Marston knew +ambergris was worth much. Don Felix had said nothing about this curious +stuff, which the cachalot whales throw up, and Marston wondered where +Wyndham had got it. + +The voyage was obviously going to pay, but the strange thing was, their +cargo for the most part had come down after the agent died. To some +extent this bore out Marston's conclusion that the old mulatto was the +Bat and had power over Don Felix's uncivilized customers. Marston began +to muse about the fellow. He had power; one felt it, although he was old +and repulsive. Something indicated that he had inherited from his white +ancestors qualities not often found in half-breeds. Marston began to see +that this was partly why the fellow repelled him; one got a hint of +intelligence put to a base use. + +The matter was not important, and he pondered about his finding Wyndham +and the other in the cabin. Harry was badly shaken, although Marston +knew his pluck. Something very strange and startling was needed to drive +the blood from his face and bring the sweat to his forehead. All the +same, it was ridiculous to imagine the mulatto had frightened him. The +old fellow was clever and no doubt claimed to be a magician in the +bush, but Harry was not the man to be cheated by his tricks. After a +time, Marston gave it up and went on deck. + +_Columbine_ leaned over to the steady breeze. The sea was flecked with +white and a spray shower leaped about her bows. A foaming wake trailed +behind her and Marston's heart got light as he heard the shrouds hum and +felt her measured swing. He liked the sense of speed and buoyancy, the +feeling that he had control of straining wood and sail. To fight the +sudden wild Northers and keep her off reefs and shoals was a man's job, +but it was a job he knew. He did not know the other that Mabel had given +him, and often felt puzzled. Yet he had undertaken it and meant to make +good. By-and-by he went down to the cabin and to bed. + +After a quick run he reached port, transacted some business, shipped his +cargo home by steamer, and then returned to the lagoon, where he found +Wyndham had another load ready. On the night after his arrival they sat +in the cabin, talking, and although Wyndham said nothing about the +mulatto he was frank. Indeed, Marston smiled when he remembered the +doubts with which he had left his comrade. All the same, he thought he +noted something about Harry he had not known before. + +"You will sail again as soon as we can load the cargo, but for another +port," Wyndham said. "We have, so to speak, found a treasure house and +want to keep it dark. If other folks get to know, the treasure will soon +be picked up. Anybody can buy a pretty good chart of the coast for a few +shillings, and we have been lucky so far, largely because the shoals +keep steamers out." + +"The thing will be known sometime," Marston remarked. + +"Of course, but I hope to get the most part of the stuff that's worth +getting before our rivals come in." + +"After that you'll let this branch of the business go?" + +"I think not," Wyndham replied. "If I can find a good agent, we ought to +hold our ground in the regular trade, although the profits will not be +large." + +"But you, yourself, don't mean to stay very long?" + +"No," said Wyndham. "When I get the best of the produce that seems to +have been piling up and appoint our agent, I'll willingly clear out; but +I don't expect to do so for three or four months. I've got my chance now +and must seize it." + +"Three months is a long time to stay at the lagoon. Besides, who will +look after the business at home?" + +"My manager is pretty capable, though he's young and recently promoted. +Would you like to go?" + +Marston laughed. "I'm not a business man. Would you trust me?" + +"I don't think it would be rash. You're a careful fellow, Bob, and it +begins to look as if you had talents you didn't know. You have +transacted our business like a shipping clerk." + +For a moment or two Marston hesitated. Wyndham looked amused and Bob +admitted that the situation had a touch of humor. He meant to stay at a +place for which he had a strange, superstitious dislike, in order to +help his comrade, who would sooner be left alone. + +"I may go by-and-by, but I won't go yet," he replied. + +They let the matter drop and in the morning Wyndham went up the creek in +the boat. He stated, rather vaguely, that he must arrange about some +cargo and it was three or four days before he returned. Then Marston +sailed with another load for a different port, and the French creole who +shipped the goods to England was frankly surprised by their value. +Indeed, his remarks indicated that the freight was worth much more than +Marston had thought. The latter returned to the lagoon, satisfied in one +way, but disturbed in another, and did not see much of his comrade. + +Wyndham often left the vessel, and although he did not tell Marston +where he went, the loaded canoes that came down the creek hinted that he +was usefully engaged. It was plain that the business was remarkably +profitable, but Marston imagined Wyndham was overdoing the thing. He +began to look worn and was sometimes moody, for a white man cannot +strain brain and body hard in the tropic swamps. + +Marston got uneasy about him, but to some extent sympathized. They could +not long enjoy their monopoly, rivals would soon be attracted to the +lagoon, and Harry was justified in seizing his chance. He had not +thought Harry greedy, but there was much at stake; Chisholm's approval, +Harry's business standing, and his marriage to Flora. Marston could +understand his comrade's running heavy risks for a girl like that. + +Still he was bothered because he did not know all the risks; it was +possible that Harry was being driven far by his very natural ambition, +but there were lengths to which one ought not to go. + +Another thing puzzled Marston. Don Felix had known the negroes and had, +moreover, negro blood in his veins, but the trade had not extended until +he was dead. It was strange the efforts of a white man and a stranger +had led to the sudden extension. Harry had obviously qualities and +knowledge that had not marked the other. But what were the qualities, +and what did he know? Although Marston sometimes brooded over this, he +saw no light. + +One evening he sat in the cabin and studied their trading accounts while +Wyndham smoked. It was very hot and Marston's face and hands were wet +with sweat and his eyes were dazzled. Flies hovered about the light and +now and then a beetle struck the mosquito gauze in the skylight. +Presently Marston put down his pen and frowned. + +"My brain's dull to-night," he said. "I ought to be satisfied with the +results of our venture, but there are things I don't see quite plain. +For example, we have got a lot of stuff for which we don't seem to have +paid." + +"You are supercargo," Wyndham rejoined. "The accounts are yours and +they're remarkably accurate. All we have got is properly charged against +us." + +"That is so; I have used your figures. All the same, we haven't handed +over much money." + +"The business is largely done by barter." + +"Of course," said Marston, with a touch of impatience. "We haven't +delivered much goods against the account." + +"The goods will be delivered. Our customers haven't yet stated the +articles they want." + +"This means they trust us until we can bring the stuff from England or +America? In fact, they're willing to trust us for some time?" + +"It looks like that," said Wyndham and laughed. "Are you puzzled about +it, Bob? After all, Wyndhams' has long traded here and the house's +reputation is obviously pretty good." + +"But I understand your agents never got such stuff as we have got." + +"They were agents and we are principals; I expect that accounts for +something," Wyndham replied with a twinkle. "Besides, Wyndhams' never +had a supercargo like you." + +Marston frowned and tried to think of some other matters that had +excited his curiosity, but could not make the effort, and Wyndham put a +bottle and glasses on the table. + +"Shut the books and I'll mix a cocktail," he said. "You're working too +hard and it's very hot." + +They went to bed soon afterwards and when he awoke Marston's head ached +and he did not get up. He thought he had a dose of fever and felt +strangely annoyed. Somehow he had not expected to get fever; he had +thought Harry might get it, and to be kept in his bunk was a +complication he had not reckoned on. Although Wyndham dosed him as the +medical book directed, the fever did not abate. For some days he tossed +about in his narrow bunk with a throbbing head and pain in his limbs, +and then lay half-conscious in limp exhaustion. He had strange dreams +and long remembered ones; indeed, he sometimes doubted if it were all a +dream. + +He imagined he was back at the factory on the African river and +Wyndham's uncle, the man who vanished, was in the big mildewed room. +Marston saw him come out of his door and stand for a moment listening, +with his face touched by the moonlight; and then run forward and stop by +the body on the boards. The dream was horribly vivid and real, but the +big room got hazy and melted, as it were, into _Columbine_'s cabin. + +Marston saw the lamp, turned low, hang at an angle to the beams, and the +charts and cargo books in the net rack. He smelt the mud and heard the +ripples splash against the schooner's side. Somebody sat in front of the +table and when the man looked up he saw it was Rupert Wyndham. Marston +knew him because he had seen his portrait, but his hair had gone white +and his skin very dark. In fact, he did not look like a white man. He +got up and his face and bent figure melted as the room at the factory +had melted, but very slowly got distinct again and Marston thrilled with +repulsion and horror. Rupert Wyndham had changed to the old mulatto. + +His naked feet made no noise as he crossed the floor and Marston +struggled to get up but could not. His lips refused to move when he +tried to call for help; the old fellow had fixed his bloodshot eyes on +him and he felt powerless. The mulatto stopped by his bunk, holding out +a glass, and Marston knew he meant to poison him. He resolved he would +not drink, but felt he must. There was something in the fellow's steady +look that broke his resistance and for a few moments he fought a +horrible battle against a strange conquering force. Then he took the +glass and drained it, and the mulatto melted away. He did not vanish. +This implied suddenness; he faded out of the cabin by imperceptible +degrees. + +Marston knew no more and awoke in daylight, haunted by the dream. He was +surprised to feel he was not worse; indeed, his head did not ache and +although he was very weak the pain in his limbs had gone. His throat was +parched and there was a strange taste in his mouth, as if he had +swallowed the draught he dreamed about. Wyndham sat on the locker and +got up when he saw Marston was awake. + +"You look different. I think you have seen the worst," he said. "I've +been bothered about you, Bob." + +Marston smiled. He did not want to talk and the relief he saw in his +comrade's face was soothing. He went to sleep again and it was dark when +he awoke. He did not dream that night and in a few days got, rather +shakily, out of his bunk. Wyndham put some cushions for him on the +locker and they began to talk. + +"The boat's full to the hatches and we go to sea to-morrow," Wyndham +said. "If the wind keeps fair, I expect to put you on board the Spanish +liner for the Canaries in three or four days. You'll transfer to a +homeward Cape boat when you arrive." + +"But I don't want to go home yet," Marston objected. + +"You are going all the same," Wyndham declared. "You have been very ill +and a sick man hasn't much chance in this miasmatic air. There's no use +in arguing; you have got to go." + +Marston grumbled, but they sailed with the next high tide, and when they +made the port where the Spanish steamer lay he let Wyndham help him on +board. + + + + +PART II + +WYNDHAM CLAIMS HIS REWARD + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MABEL PONDERS + + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Marston sat by a window in an +English country house. His pose was limp and his face was thin, for the +fever had shaken him, but he felt his strength coming back. Outside, +bare trees shook their branches in a fresh west wind, and a white belt +of surf crept across the shining sands in the broad estuary. On the +other side, the Welsh hills rose against the sunset in a smooth black +line. + +Marston felt pleasantly languid and altogether satisfied. Mabel had put +a cushion under his head and given him a footstool. It was soothing to +be taken care of by one whom one loved, and after the glare of the +Caribbean and the gloom of the swamps, the soft colors and changing +lights of the English landscape rested his eyes. For all that, they did +not wander long from Mabel, who sat close by, quietly pondering. With +her yellow hair and delicate pink skin she looked very English, and all +that was English had an extra charm for Marston. He liked her thoughtful +calm. Mabel was normal; she, so to speak, walked in the light, and the +extravagant imaginings he had indulged at the lagoon vanished when she +was about. + +Yet he had been forced to remember much, for Chisholm and Flora had come +to hear his story, and he had felt he must make them understand in +order to do his comrade justice. Flora's grateful glance and the sparkle +in Chisholm's eyes hinted that he had not altogether failed. + +"It's a moving tale; I felt I was young again," Chisholm remarked when +Marston stopped. "A daring voyage for a craft as old as _Columbine_ and +Harry obviously handled her well. Some folks declare we're decadent, but +my notion is, a race that loves the sea can't lose its vigor, and the +spirit that sent out the old adventurers is living yet. Well, I wish I +had been with you!" He paused with an apologetic smile and turned to +Flora. "It's plain that Harry has qualities." + +"He has a good partner," Flora replied and gave Marston a friendly nod. +"I mean that, Bob." + +"The persistence of the family type is a curious thing," Chisholm +resumed. "In old times, Wyndhams' sent out slavers and privateers, and +although Harry's modern, he's taking the path his ancestors trod. Well, +in a sense, he's lucky, because he can make seafaring pay. The rest of +us must indulge it tamely on board a yacht and, however you economize, +yachting costs you much." + +"Harry has a talent for making his occupations pay," Marston agreed and +noted that Flora knitted her brows. + +"You are romantic, father," she said. "I don't think Harry is taking his +ancestors' path. They were hard and reckless men and traded in flesh and +blood. You trade in rubber and dyewoods, don't you, Bob?" + +"For the most part. However, we get a bit of everything; ambergris, +pearls, and curious drugs." + +"I like pearls," Flora remarked, but stopped rather abruptly and Mabel +gave Marston a quick glance. He thought he saw what she meant; he must +not talk about pearls just then. + +After a time Flora said they must go, and went out with Mabel, but +Chisholm stopped by Marston's chair. + +"It looks as if you were quite satisfied about this venture of +Wyndham's, Bob," he said. + +"Why, yes," Marston replied. "I've backed my approval by investing a +good sum." + +Chisholm was quiet for a moment or two, and then resumed: "That is not +altogether what I meant; in fact, it's hard to state frankly what I do +mean. I like Harry Wyndham. He's clever, resolute, and a good sportsman, +but when he wanted to marry Flora I hesitated. Well, your story has +given me some comfort. You have been with Wyndham and are satisfied. One +can trust you." + +"You are very kind, sir," Marston answered with a touch of awkwardness. +"The business is risky, the climate's bad, and one must use some +control. Leave liquor alone, for example; I think you understand! Still +Harry's rather a Spartan; there's an ascetic vein in him. Besides, he +won't stay long. As soon as he has put things straight he's coming +back." + +"Thank you," said Chisholm, but when he went off Marston felt +embarrassed. + +Chisholm trusted him and he was not sure he had been altogether frank. +Wyndham, of course, was free from certain gross temptations to which +some white men in the tropics were victims; but there were others, +subtle and insidious, that rather appealed to the brain than the body. +Marston could not declare that Harry resisted these. Yet it was +impossible he should tell Chisholm his vague but disturbing doubts. It +was some relief when Mabel returned and sat down opposite. + +"Have they tired you, Bob?" she asked. "Light a cigarette and don't talk +unless you want." + +"I want to talk," said Marston, who used no reserve with her. + +"Very well. To begin with, you saw my hint when Flora talked about the +pearls." + +Marston laughed. "After all, I'm not so dull as some people think. You +didn't want Flora to know I had brought you pearls?" + +"Something like that. Why did Harry send her none?" + +"It's rather puzzling," Marston replied thoughtfully. "I suggested I +should take a few to Flora, but he said they were not good enough. +They're not really first-class pearls, you know. Then he said they might +be unlucky. The strange thing is, I think he meant it." + +"Yet you brought some for me? You're honest, but you don't always use +much tact, dear Bob!" + +"Oh, well. We're not superstitious and I'd no grounds for thinking the +pearls would bring bad luck." + +"It looks as if your partner had some grounds." + +"Yes," said Marston. "I don't understand the thing. For that matter, I +was puzzled about other things now and then, and although I wanted to +get back to you I felt shabby about coming home. Somehow I had a notion +I ought to stay. After all, you let me go and would like me to finish my +job." + +"You're rather a dear and very staunch," Mabel remarked with a gentle +smile. "Anyhow, you were ill and had done enough." + +She was quiet for a time and Marston was satisfied to smoke and study +her. It had got dark, but the fire was bright and touched her face while +she sat still, as if lost in concentrated thought. Marston thought her +beautiful and she had beauty, but her beauty was not her strongest +charm. + +"Bob," she remarked presently, "yours was a curious dream." + +"I had fever, you know, but the thing was remarkably real. It was like +lantern pictures melting on the screen. Background and figures were +accurate and lifelike. In the last scene, I knew I was in _Columbine_'s +cabin and can hardly persuade myself I was quite asleep. The tide +splashed about the boat; I could smell the mud." + +"Yet you saw Wyndham's uncle change into the horrible old mulatto." + +Marston nodded. "He faded and got distinct again, different, but not +different altogether. This was the puzzling thing. However, the story +the agent told us about the Leopards had haunted me and I'd often +thought about Rupert Wyndham. Perhaps it was because I saw his portrait +and he was like my partner." + +"You mean he was like him physically?" + +"That's not all. Of course a portrait doesn't tell one very much, but I +thought Harry had Rupert's temperament." + +"I see," said Mabel, knitting her straight brows. "To begin with, do you +know Rupert Wyndham's temperament?" + +"In a way; Harry and Ellams, the agent, talked about him much. He was a +daring man; I think reckless is the proper word. We sober folks have our +code, we must do this and not the other; men like Rupert Wyndham have +none. If a thing looked worth getting, he'd venture much and break rules +for it. Harry, you know, is like that; I mean he'd venture much. Well, I +think Rupert made some rash experiments in Africa. He studied the +negroes' habits and tried to get their point of view." + +"With an object, you suggest? What did he want?" + +"Harry imagined it was power." + +"Ah," said Mabel. "Harry wants Flora. And he has Rupert's recklessness!" + +Marston made a sign of disagreement. "There's a difference. A man might +do much for power; but for a girl like Flora he must be fastidious. It +wouldn't help if he got money and lost her respect. Harry knows this. +He's not a fool." + +"But suppose Flora didn't know how he got his money?" + +"Harry doesn't cheat. He wouldn't use means she disapproved and then +claim his reward." + +"Oh, well," said Mabel, "I think we'll let it go. I like you to trust +your friends." + +Soon afterwards a car came to the steps and Mabel saw that Marston put +on a warm scarf and fastened his collar before he drove off. Then she +went back to the fire and pondered his story and subsequent remarks. The +story was strange, but she thought she saw a light where all was dark to +Bob. She had long suspected that Wyndham was reckless and would not be +bound by rules if the prize he sought made his breaking them worth +while. Moreover, she had got books about West Africa and the Caribbean +that touched on Fetish and Voodoo superstitions. Perhaps she was +romantic, but it was possible Wyndham, led by strong temptation, had +ventured where a white man ought not to go. With an effort, Mabel +banished her doubts. After all, the thing was unthinkable. Bob had not +been cheated; he knew Harry. + +In the morning, Marston occupied himself with some old books in +Wyndhams' office at the top of a big stone building. The office was +comfortably furnished and there was a good picture of an old-fashioned +sailing ship on the wall; the big single-top sails indicated when she +was built. At the end of the street the window commanded, the masts and +funnels of channel steamers rose above a warehouse where Wyndhams' barks +and brigs had loaded goods they bartered for slaves. Marston glanced at +the modern iron masts and smiled when he looked up, for the book he +studied had nothing to do with business. + +It was the log of the slaver _Providence_ that Wyndham had talked about, +and it related how they towed her with the boats when the negroes died +in the suffocating hold. There was something about a sacrifice that did +not bring the needed wind and its cost was charged against the freight. +They were hard men, touched by strange superstitions, who towed the +_Providence_, but their brutality was businesslike. Marston found an +entry for the negroes used up at the oars, with their value at Jamaica +properly noted. + +After a time, he shut the log-book. He had read enough and resolved +there would be a break in some of Wyndhams' traditions now he was a +partner in the house. He had noted things he did not like, and Harry +would support his new plans when he came home. By and by he heard steps +in the clerks' office and a broker was announced. The latter came in and +put a small brown jar on the table. + +"I told your people we wanted some hard oil and they sent us samples," +he said. "If the bulk's quite up to specimen, I think it ought to meet +the bill. We must have prime quality for the particular job." + +Marston picked up the jar, which held a quantity of thick yellow grease. +It was palm oil and its strong but rather pleasant smell awoke vivid +memories. He saw the whitewashed factory shine beside the muddy river +and a gang of naked negroes filling big barrels in a compound tunneled +by land-crabs' holes. The compound glowed with light against a +background of forest wrapped in unchanging gloom, from which the palm +oil came. For all that, the oil was a well-known article of commerce. +There was nothing mysterious about its production and Marston would have +been satisfied had Wyndhams' confined its trade to stuff like this. Then +he saw the broker was waiting. + +"Don't samples generally stand for the bulk?" he asked. + +The broker looked at him rather sharply and smiled. + +"It depends upon the people with whom you deal and the skill of their +warehouseman. A man who knows his job can draw samples that will pass a +good-middling lot as prime, and this without the buyer's being able to +claim that they're not fairly representative. But of course, you +know----" + +"I don't know. You see, I'm a beginner," Marston replied, and examined a +ticket stuck in the oil. "Well, I saw this lot barreled in Africa. The +quality is _not_ prime." + +The broker looked surprised and annoyed. "Then your manager has made +things rather awkward for us. One uses some judgment about samples, but +our customer must have a first-class article and we engaged to supply +him at a stated price. I'll own that the price was a little below what +others asked. We quoted on your offer." + +"Our offer stands," said Marston, who indicated the jar. "Will you be +satisfied if the oil we send is all like this?" + +"We will be quite satisfied." + +"Very well. Send in the order and you'll get the quality you want." + +The broker lighted a cigarette and gave Marston his case. "I like the +way you do business. We are buying for big people, the trade's steady +and good, but we haven't dealt much with Wyndhams' before. If this lot's +all right, other orders will follow." + +"You can take it for granted the lot will be all right," Marston +replied. + +He frowned when the broker went out. It looked as if Wyndhams' goods had +not always been up to sample and Marston remembered hints he heard about +the character of the house. Harry, however had not long had control and +had, perhaps, left things to his clerks. It was going to be different +now. + +Presently Marston got up and went to the general office where he +interviewed the young manager. He did not say much, but he was very +firm and when he returned to his room the other shrugged. + +"If the new partner takes this line, your next balance sheet won't be +good," he remarked to the book-keeper. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MABEL'S PEARLS + + +Four months after Marston reached England, Wyndham came home. He had got +thin and, when he was quiet, looked worn, but he had returned in triumph +and soon persuaded Marston that his efforts had earned a rich reward. +Things had gone better than his letters indicated. + +On the evening of his arrival, he waited in Flora's drawing-room for +Chisholm, who had not yet got back from his office at the port. Electric +lights burned above the mantel and Wyndham sat by the cheerful fire, +with Flora in a low chair opposite. For a time she had listened while he +talked, and now her eyes rested on him with keen but tranquil +satisfaction. Harry had come back, as she had known he would come, like +a conqueror. She was proud that he had justified her trust, and although +it had been hard to let him go, this did not matter. + +She was ashamed of her hesitation when he first declared himself her +lover, but the suspicion that she was rash had not lasted long. Flora +was loyal and when she had accepted him looked steadily forward. It was +not her habit to doubt and look back. One thing rather disturbed her; +Harry was obviously tired. Before he went away his talk and laugh were +marked by a curious sparkle that Flora thought like the sparkle of wine. +This had gone, but, in a way, she liked him better, although his sober +mood was new. + +By-and-by he glanced about the room, which was rather plainly furnished, +but with a hint of artistic taste. Chisholm was not rich and the taste +was Flora's. Then he moved his chair and leaned forward to the fire with +a languid smile. + +"Our English cold is bracing, but it bites keen when one has known the +tropics," he said. "I like light and warmth." + +"You got both on the Caribbean," Flora remarked. + +"No," said Wyndham, "not much light. For a few hours, the glare was +dazzling, but soon the shadow crept back from the bush and the +fever-mist floated about the boat. On the creek and at the village, you +got a sense of gloom that never melted." He paused and added with a +smile: "It's often like that in the tropics, and the gloom is not +altogether physical." + +Flora noted the thinness of his face and his pallor. Her glance got soft +and pitiful. + +"My dear!" she said. "I wanted you to win; not that I cared for your +winning, but because I wanted you to satisfy others who do not know you +so well." + +"Your father, for example?" he rejoined with a twinkle. "Well, he took +the proper line, but I think I have some arguments that will persuade +him." + +"I sent you," she said, with a touch of color. "Afterwards I saw that I +was shabby and vain. I ought not to have let you go. What did it matter +about the others, when I was satisfied? You have won and they will own +this, but I'm afraid it has cost you much." + +Wyndham gave her a rather sharp glance and then smiled. "One must pay +for what one gets, but, if it's much comfort, I was very willing." + +"You were always generous, but I'm afraid you're sometimes rash." + +"The rashness was justified. If I had to choose again, I'd stake my all, +fortune, mind, and body, and think the risk worth while." + +"You're very nice," said Flora, and added with a blush: "But, in one +way, there was no risk. Even if you had been beaten, I would have +persuaded father. It was rather for his sake you went than mine and +that's why I'm half ashamed. But he deserved something; he has long +indulged me." + +She got up. There were steps in the passage, and Chisholm came in. +Wyndham stayed for dinner and afterwards went with Chisholm to his +smoking-room and gave him a document. + +"My book-keeper drafted the statement, because I thought you ought to +know where I stand," he said. "The sum indicated could be invested for +Flora. Not much of a marriage settlement of course, but perhaps it will +help to banish your very natural doubts." + +Chisholm studied the paper with some surprise. "You have done much +better than I thought; I don't know if this is flattering or not. In +fact, when one remembers that you have not long been head of the house, +your success is rather remarkable." + +"I ran some risks," said Wyndham, smiling. "We have got started; perhaps +I'm optimistic, but I came home persuaded we are going on. It's possible +we may go far." + +"You have a good partner," Chisholm remarked. + +"The best!" Wyndham agreed quietly. + +Chisholm liked his hint of feeling, but hesitated, although there was no +obvious reason for this. He liked Wyndham, and the latter was on the +way to mend his fortune. All the same, he shrank, rather illogically, +from giving his formal consent to the wedding. + +"Well," he said, with something of an effort, "I'm glad your affairs are +going as well as you hoped and I suppose you now expect me to keep my +promise. I've no grounds to refuse and you can marry Flora when she is +ready." + +Wyndham went soon afterwards and Chisholm said to Flora, "You declared +Harry would force me to approve and he has done so." + +"What do you approve?" Flora asked, smiling. + +"Oh, well," said Chisholm, "I think I see what you suggest. Looks as if +I must be frank. Since my duty is to take care of you, it's a big relief +to find Harry is a good business man and is going to make Wyndhams' +prosperous. I like to feel he's able to give you all you ought to have." + +Flora's glance was proud. "I want you to be satisfied, and it was for +this I let Harry go. I would not have hesitated had he come back +disappointed and poor. Now I feel half cheated, because, in one way, he +doesn't need my help." + +"You are a plucky girl," said Chisholm. "Still I expect it's better he +has come back rich. After all, romance wears off, and then, if money's +short, the strain begins." + +"Your philosophy's not very good," Flora rejoined with a laugh. "Real +romance never wears off; the strain's the test that marks the difference +between the true and false. However, since you have carried out your +duty and used a caution that's rather new, you ought to be happy." + +She kissed him and he let her go, but he was thoughtful afterwards. He +felt he ought to be happy, but somehow he was not. By-and-by he got up +and went to meet Mabel and Marston, whom he heard come in. A famous +Shakespearian actor was visiting the town and Marston had called to +suggest that they should see the play together. They fixed a night, +without knowing in which of his favorite parts the tragedian would +appear. Mabel said this was not important, because he was good in all. + +When the car stopped at the theater she went with Flora to the +cloak-room and began to take off her furs in front of a long glass. As +she did so she hesitated, because she remembered something she ought to +have remembered before. It was too late now, for as the cloak slipped +off her shoulders a string of small pearls caught the light. Flora had +not long since said she liked pearls. Then Mabel saw that Flora had seen +the pearls, and thought she had noted her hesitation, because she +smiled. + +"They are very pretty," Flora remarked. "I suppose Bob gave them to +you?" + +"They are small," said Mabel deprecatingly, but not because she did not +value her lover's present. "Bob said something about their not getting +any Harry thought good enough to send home." + +"Bob and you are very nice, but you're sometimes obvious," Flora +rejoined. "However, I'm not jealous, and if the pearls are small, they +stand for much." + +"These stand for endurance and bold adventure. I think Bob did not get +them easily." + +"That would not matter to Bob," said Flora. "But I wonder what they cost +the others, the dark-skinned men who found them on the sands beneath the +Caribbean. Pearls, you know, sometimes stand for tears." She moved from +the glass, for the room was filling, and smiled as she resumed: "I don't +know why I indulge a morbid sentiment when I'm happy. You will never +have much grounds to cry for Bob." + +They went down a passage and found their places in the stalls. The house +was full and Marston had engaged such seats as he could get. Wyndham, +Flora and Chisholm were in front; Mabel and Marston in the row behind. + +"_Macbeth!_" he said as he gave Mabel a program. "Rather curious; but I +like the play. Kind of plot one can understand." + +"Why is it curious?" Mabel asked. "Don't you understand them all?" + +"Not like this," said Marston, with a touch of awkwardness. "The +motto--or d'you call it the motive?--is plain from the start. 'Ambition +that over-leaps itself,' if I'm quoting right." + +Mabel said nothing. Bob was not clever, but he was sometimes shrewd and +she saw what was in his mind. This was easier because he looked +uncomfortable. The poor fellow felt he had not been quite loyal to his +friend. Then Mabel frowned. Perhaps Bob had seen clearly; there _was_ a +parallel. + +The lights went out and when the curtain rose Marston tried to banish +his disturbing thoughts and enjoy the play. He had seen it often, but +the story gripped him with a force he had not felt before. All was well +done. Pale flames played round the witches' cauldron, and there was +something strangely suggestive about the bent figures that hovered about +the fire and faded in the gloom. He had sometimes thought the +witch-scene unnecessary, but now he felt its significance. In +Shakespeare's days, men believed in witchcraft, and when one had been in +Africa one owned there were powers that ruled the dark. Bob was quiet +and listened, with his mouth firmly set. + +A line caught his notice: "Her husband's to Aleppo gone, the master of +the Tiger." Marston had not thought much about this before, but he saw +the strange, high-pooped old vessel, manned by merchant adventurers, +plunge across the surges of the Levant. She was a type; there were +always merchant adventurers, and he pictured _Columbine_ rolling on the +African surf. + +Then for a time he let the play absorb him. The witches were tempting +Macbeth, flattering his ambition, promising him power. The gloom and the +flickering light round the cauldron recalled Africa; Marston had seen +the naked factory boys crouch beside their fires, tapping little drums, +and singing strange, monotonous songs that sounded like incantations. He +thought about Rupert Wyndham; witches were numerous in Africa and +Marston wondered what they had promised him. Was it power? Or knowledge +the cautious white man shuns? Marston glanced at Wyndham, in front. He +had not spoken since the curtain rose and the pose of his head indicated +that his eyes were fixed on the stage. He was very still and Marston +thought the drama had seized his imagination. + +The cauldron fire leaped up, throwing red reflections that touched a +figure moving in the gloom. Marston wondered whether his eyes were +dazzled, for the hooded figure began to look like the Bat. Then there +was a flash, the witches vanished, and he felt a strange relief when the +curtain fell and the lights went up. + +"Very well done! A realistic scene!" Wyndham remarked, looking round. +"Did you know it was _Macbeth_, Bob?" + +"I did not," said Marston. "If I had known, I think I'd have picked +another night." + +Wyndham looked hard at him, and then laughed and began to talk to Flora, +but Marston felt jarred. Harry laughed like that in moments of tension +when others swore. Then he saw that Mabel was studying him. + +"You are quiet, Bob," she said. + +"It's long since I saw a good play," Marston replied. "My first +relaxation since I got to work, and I expect it grips me harder because +it's fresh. Full house, isn't it? Do you know many people?" + +"I see one or two friends of yours. They have been looking at you, but +you wouldn't turn." + +"I didn't see them," said Marston. "I've got the habit of dropping +people since I joined Wyndhams'. Regular work is something of a novelty +and while the newness lasts you get absorbed. I don't know if it's good +or not. What do you think?" + +Mabel laughed. "Well done, Bob! It cost you something, but you felt you +ought to talk." + +"It oughtn't to have cost me anything," said Marston apologetically. +"But how did you know?" + +"My dear, you're honest and obvious. Besides, we do know things, by +instinct perhaps. I would always know when you were disturbed." + +"I'm not disturbed. You are here." + +"Ah," said Mabel, "now you're very nice! But let's be frank. You were +thinking about another drama, in real life, that touches you close. I +see one comfort; there's no Lady Macbeth in the piece." + +Marston agreed and mused. The light was good, and touched Mabel's face +and neck where the small pearls shone. He saw Flora's face in profile, +her shoulders, and the flowing curve of her arm. He liked the fine poise +of her head. She looked proud and somehow vivid; one got a hint of her +fearless, impulsive character. Her hair and eyes were brown and she wore +a corn-yellow dress. Mabel's skin was white and red, and her dull-blue +clothes matched the color of her eyes. She was calm, steadfast, and +sometimes reserved, a contrast to Flora, although in ways they were +alike. Both were honest and hated what was mean. Marston felt comforted. +There was no Lady Macbeth in the piece. + +Moreover, a glance along the rows of people was calming. There were +business men with shining, bald heads, and some younger whose clothes +were cut in the latest mode. Women of different ages, for the most part +fashionably dressed, sat among the others, but all wore the conventional +English stamp. There was nothing extravagant about them; Marston thought +they sat contentedly by modern hearths. They were not the people to +follow wandering fires. Perhaps he was something of a romantic fool; +but when one had been in Africa and the swamps beside the Caribbean-- + +The play went on. He saw Macbeth's ambitions realized. The witches' +promises were fulfilled, but with fulfillment came retribution that had +looked impossible. This was the touch that fixed Marston's thought. +Macbeth was cheated, but he must pay; the powers of evil lied. One +wondered whether it was always like that. + +When the curtain fell and the lights went up shortly before the end, +Marston remarked: "After all there were the witches. Lady Macbeth was, +so to speak, unnecessary." + +Mabel had indulged him before; indeed, his mood had chimed with hers, +but she thought he had followed this line far enough. His illness had +left a mark, and he sometimes brooded. She laughed when Flora turned. + +"Bob's getting to be a dramatic critic and something of a philosopher," +she said. "Perhaps he'll tell you how he would improve the play." + +"You know what I mean," Marston replied good-humoredly. "Aren't a man's +greed and ambition enough to drive him on, without an outside tempter?" + +"Without a bad woman to urge him?" Flora suggested. + +"When one comes to think of it, a good woman might be as dangerous as +the other," said Marston. + +Mabel frowned. She saw where her lover's remark led, but doubted if the +others did. She forced a laugh when Wyndham looked round. + +"Bob has a flash of imagination now and then," she said. + +"I expect Bob would sooner leave out the witches, now he knows something +about Ghost Leopards and Voodoo," Wyndham replied. "Anyhow, I think the +mummery round the cauldron rather crude; the act was, no doubt, written +to meet the spirit of the times. Temptation by repulsive hags would not +appeal to an up-to-date young man. My notion of a tempter is an urbanely +ironical Mephistopheles." + +Marston said nothing. He remembered the Bat's strange, mocking grin; and +then roused himself and laughed. He was getting morbid; the wretched +fever had shaken him. He joked with Flora until the curtain rose and +when it came down on the closing scene resolved to forget the play. + +"I've ordered supper. It will brace us up," he said. + +They went to a crowded restaurant, and Marston liked the tinkle of +glass, voices, and cheerful laughter, but he shivered when they left the +glittering room and got into the car. + +"Put the rug round you before we start," said Mabel. + +"I think I will," Marston replied, apologetically. "I feel as if my +temperature was up; malaria has an annoying trick of coming back. When +it does come back, you get moody and pessimistic. Sorry if I bored you +to-night!" + +"Perhaps it was malaria, but I wasn't bored," said Mabel, with an +indulgent smile. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PETERS' OFFER + + +Wyndham and Flora were married at a small country church. The morning +was bright and the sun touched the east window with vivid color and +pierced the narrow lancets on the south. Red and green reflections +stained the mosaics inside the chancel rails, but shadows lurked behind +the arches and pillars, for the old building had no clerestory. + +Mabel was bridesmaid, Marston was groomsman, and as he waited for a few +moments by the rails he looked about. Commodore Chisholm had numerous +friends, and for the most part Marston knew the faces turned towards the +chancel. He had sailed hard races against some of the men and danced +with their wives and daughters. They were sober English folk, and he was +glad they had come to stamp with their approval his partner's wedding. +Some, however, he could not see, because they sat back in the gloom. + +Then he glanced at his companions. He was nervous, but Mabel was marked +by her serene calm. Flora's look was rather fixed, and although she had +not much color, her pose was resolute and proud. Marston wondered +whether she felt she was making something of a plunge; but if she did +so, he knew she would not hesitate. Chisholm's face was quiet and +perhaps a trifle stern; he looked rather old, and Marston imagined him +resigned. The Commodore was frank; one generally knew what he felt. All +three looked typically English, but Wyndham did not. Although his eyes +were very blue and his hair was touched by red, he was different from +the others. His face, as Marston saw it in profile, was thin and in a +way ascetic, but it wore a stamp of recklessness. His pose was strangely +alert and highly strung. There was something exotic about him. + +The vicar began the office and Marston remarked with a sense of +annoyance that the church got dark, as if the sun had gone behind a +cloud. He was not superstitious, but he had had enough of gloom, and the +fever had left him with a touch of melancholy. He glanced at Mabel and +felt soothed. Her face was quiet and reverent; she was unostentatiously +religious and her calm confidence banished his doubts. After a few +minutes, the light got stronger, and yielding to a strange impulse, he +looked round. A sunbeam shone through a south window and picked out a +face he knew. Marston moved abruptly and came near forgetting how he was +engaged. + +The face stood out, yellow and withered, against the surrounding shadow. +The eyes were fixed on the wedding group and Marston thought their look +ironical, but the bright beam faded and he wondered whether he had been +deceived. It was hard to believe that Peters, whom he had last seen at +the lagoon, was in the church, and Marston hoped he was not. Peters +belonged to the fever-haunted forest; he brought back the gloom and +sense of mystery Bob wanted to forget. There was something strangely +inappropriate about his coming to Harry's wedding. + +Wyndham turned his head, although the movement hardly seemed enough to +enable him to look across the church. Marston, however, roused himself, +for he had followed the office, and slipped the ring into his comrade's +hand. Wyndham put it on the book, and then as the vicar gave it back, +let it drop. There was a tinkle as it struck the tiles and, for a +moment, an awkward pause. Flora started and Chisholm frowned, but +Marston picked up the ring and when Wyndham put it on Flora's hand, +tried to feel he had not got a jar. Perhaps he was ridiculous, but he +wished Peters had stayed away and Harry had not dropped the ring. + +There was no further mishap, the sun shone out again and as its beams +drove back the shadows the gilded cross above the screen caught the +light and flashed. Mabel looked up. Marston thought her unconscious +movement directed his glance, and he was moved to tenderness and calm. +After the feeling of repugnance Peters had excited, the thing was +strangely significant and he knew the glittering symbol was Mabel's +guiding light. + +The vicar stopped. Flora gave Marston her hand in the vestry and he put +his on Wyndham's shoulder as he wished them happiness. In a few minutes +they went out and when Wyndham's car drove off Marston stood by the gate +with Mabel, waiting for theirs. People stood about talking to one +another, and Marston tried to hide his annoyance when a man outside the +group caught his eye. He had not been deceived; the fellow was Peters, +for he smiled. + +For a moment Marston hesitated. There was, however, no obvious reason +for his refusing to acknowledge Peters, and he nodded when he advanced. +The latter's clothes were in the latest fashion; he wore light gloves +and very neat varnished shoes. At a little distance he looked like a +prosperous Englishman, but as he came up and took off his hat the sun +touched his yellow, deep-lined face and the curious white tufts in his +hair. Then he looked pinched and shriveled. + +"I hardly thought to see you. Indeed, I imagined I had cheated myself," +Marston remarked. + +Peters laughed. "Our meeting is, after all, not strange. I landed a few +days since and stopped to transact some business before I go on to +Hamburg. A paragraph in a newspaper caught my eye, and, having nothing +to do this morning, I thought I'd come to your partner's wedding. Since +I really don't know him well I didn't stop him as he came out." + +"Will you be long in town?" Marston asked. + +"Another day or two," said Peters. "I must try to look you up." + +He stepped back as a car started, and Marston saw no more of him. On the +whole, he thought he had seen enough and was annoyed because Peters was +coming to the office. This, however, was not important and he forgot +about it. + +In the afternoon Mabel and he walked across a heathy common that sloped +to the river mouth. The tide was ebbing and thin white lines of surf +curved about the sands. Here and there a wet belt shone with reflections +from the sky; the woods and fields on the western shore were getting +dim, and a long range of hills rose against the fading light. The soft +colors and the hazy distance, where one heard the sea beat on the outer +shoals, were restful to Marston's eyes. He loved the quiet English +landscape, and glancing at Mabel, half-consciously gave thanks because +he was at home. + +"Who was the strange little man at the church?" Mabel asked presently. + +"Peters," said Marston. "We met him on the Caribbean. Did you think him +strange?" + +"I didn't study him. His eyes were strange; they seemed restless and +very keen. The white tufts in his hair were unusual." + +"Fever leaves its stamp when you get it often," Marston remarked. +"Besides, I expect the fellow has had some romantic adventures. Anyhow, +he's not a friend of ours. We gave him dinner on board because he was a +white man. That's all." + +"I wonder whether Harry saw him, just before he dropped the ring." + +"What do you think?" Marston asked with some curiosity. + +"I don't know. Harry looked round." + +"Oh, well," said Marston. "If Harry did see him, I don't imagine it had +much to do with his dropping the ring." + +Mabel gave him a quiet glance. She knew Bob and thought he was trying to +persuade himself, not to cheat her. + +"Yet you did not like to see the man!" + +"I did not," Marston admitted. "He, so to speak, brought things back; +our agent's dying and the dreams I had when I was ill. Some people +belong to their surroundings. I mean, they stand for the places they +come from, and Peters belongs to the mangrove lagoons. You and Flora +stand for England; spots like this where all's bracing and calm. I think +we'll let Peters go." + +"You're very nice," said Mabel, smiling. "If we are going to flatter +each other, you stand for the sea." + +"No," said Marston. "The sea's restless, breezy, and sparkling, and I'm +not. You have got a rather dull fellow for a lover." + +"Ah," said Mabel quietly, "you are my lover, Bob, and that means much." + +She mused while they crossed the heath in the fading light. Bob was not +what he called breezy and he did not sparkle, but she would not have him +other than he was. She had not often seen him angry, but she knew he +could be strongly moved and forces then set in motion were not easily +stopped. Bob was steadfast; this was, perhaps, the proper word. He had a +reserve of strength and tenacity, of which she thought he was not +altogether conscious. She had loved him long and it was significant that +she loved him better than at the beginning. + +By and by he looked at her. "I grudge Harry nothing and have much for +which I'm thankful. All the same, I envied him his luck to-day." + +"Poor old Bob!" said Mabel "But you know, when I promised----" + +He nodded. "I know and of course I'm satisfied. I can't urge you; but +sometimes, like to-day, waiting's hard." + +Mabel's eyes were very soft. There was love in her glance, but he got a +hint of tears. + +"My dear," she said, "I think you will not be forced to wait very long." +She paused and tried to smile as she resumed: "Never mind, Bob; you +needn't talk! I know your sympathy." + +He said nothing, but took her hand, and she felt comforted. Mrs. +Hilliard was a widow and had long been ill, and Bob had known Mabel +would not marry while her mother needed her. At the beginning, he had +urged that he was able to take care of both, and since he was rich +things might be made easier for the invalid if she lived with them. +Mabel, however, was firm, and Bob gave in. He would not argue that her +sense of duty was perhaps mistaken and Mrs. Hillard's refusal might be +selfish. Mabel's strong persuasion was enough for him. + +"You will come in and see her? She has been alone all day," Mabel said, +and Marston went. + +Mrs. Hilliard sat by the fire in an invalid's chair, and when he entered +gave him a friendly smile. She looked very pinched and fragile and he +thought Mabel's fears were justified. For an hour he talked about the +wedding and other matters as cheerfully as he could, and when he went +Mabel kissed him at the gate. + +"You are very good, Bob," she said. "I owe you much and some day I'll +try to pay my debt." + +In the morning Marston went to the office and soon afterwards Peters was +shown in. Marston gave him a cigar and they talked about the Caribbean. + +"I'm beginning to feel I've had enough," Peters presently remarked. +"Life in the swamps is strenuous and one likes quiet when one's no +longer young." + +"On the surface, things looked pretty dull. I felt languid as soon as I +arrived and didn't really wake up until I left." + +Peters smiled. "Yet I imagine you found the monotony is sometimes +broken. Besides, you didn't stay long enough to learn that much that's +curious goes on beneath the surface. There's an underworld." He paused +and added meaningly: "On the whole, I think the term is pretty good." + +"I was satisfied with the surface. Anyhow, I didn't try to look +beneath," Marston rejoined, with some dryness. "In fact, I'd sooner +leave some things alone." + +"A prudent resolve, when one can carry it out! But d'you imagine your +partner controlled his curiosity?" + +Marston feared that Wyndham had not, and frowned, because he felt Peters +had meant his remark to be significant. The latter resumed: "Of course, +you can live tranquilly at the old Spanish ports; that is, if you are +sober and resist the dark-skinned señoritas' charms. Perhaps the worst +risk a rash stranger runs is being found in a dark _calle_ with a +jealous half-breed's knife in his back. In order to get hurt, you must +court danger; in the swamps it haunts you. Of course, if you trade in +the regular markets, the profit is not large; but if I could get a good +post at a port with a casino and cafés, I think I'd be satisfied." + +"Haven't your employers a job that would suit to offer you?" Marston +asked carelessly. + +"They have not. They have been grumbling recently and hinting that I've +got slack. As a matter of fact, they have some grounds. My knowledge of +the business is pretty extensive, but since your partner came on the +scene the goods we want to get have gone to Wyndhams'. I'm now going to +Hamburg to account for this, but doubt if I can do so satisfactorily. My +explanation's rather romantic than plausible." + +"Then, you have an explanation?" + +Peters smiled. "Yes. It looks as if the Bat had let his old friends go +and taken Wyndham up." + +"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "What has the Bat to do with trade? He's not +a merchant or a cultivator." + +"For all that, the fellow has power. The President rules the cities, the +_guardias rurales_ the cleared land, but the Bat and the devil rule the +bush. I know half-civilized _Mestizos_ who believe the Bat is the devil. +Anyhow, he's a useful friend." + +"He's not my friend," Marston rejoined. "However, if your employers are +not satisfied, I don't see how I can help." + +"I have a plan," said Peters. "I know the bush, the negroes, and their +habits, as few white men know them, and my knowledge is worth much to a +merchant house. Well, I'm not greedy and imagine you'd find it worth +while to give me a small partnership; or, if you'd sooner, appoint me +your agent at a port from which I could control the lagoon trade." + +Marston looked at him with some surprise. On the whole, he did not like +the fellow and he had no grounds for trusting him. + +"I'm afraid I can't agree," he replied. "We have a pretty good agent at +all the ports where we trade, and Wyndham sent a man he was satisfied +about to the lagoon. Our business is not large enough to justify our +taking a new partner." + +"The business is extending. Would you like to talk to Wyndham about it?" + +"He won't be back for some time, and I expect he'll agree that we don't +need help. I think you had better stick to your Hamburg friends." + +"Oh, well," said Peters philosophically, "it looks as if I must drop the +plan, but if you need me later, you know where I can be found. In the +meantime, we'll let it go. When I left, Ramon Larrinaga sent you his +compliments. He's getting an important man; had some part in the plot +that put the new president in power and has, no doubt, claimed his +reward." + +"You may give him our congratulations when you go back," Marston +replied, and soon afterwards Peters went off. + +Marston smoked a cigarette and reviewed his visitor's remarks. The +fellow had implied that Wyndham had, by some means, gained the Bat's +support, and this jarred. Perhaps it jarred worse because Marston had +tried to banish suspicions that chimed with the hint. Then he imagined +Peters' offer was rather made to Wyndham than to him. Marston meant to +urge his partner to refuse. He did not want to see Peters again, but +doubted. The fellow was cunning and obstinate. By-and-by Marston threw +away his cigarette and rang for his clerk. He would not bother about +Peters until he was forced. In fact, if Peters did not come back, he was +not sure he would tell Wyndham about it at all. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE LOST EXPLORERS + + +The days were getting longer and although the evening was cold Marston +rejoiced that winter had gone. He had worked hard at the office until +Wyndham's return from his honeymoon, and now he was glad to get on the +water again. Putting down his oars, he let _Red Rose_'s dinghy drift, +because he doubted if the tide had risen enough to carry him across the +sands. A bitter wind blew up the estuary, where belts of shining water +wound among the shoals, and some distance astern _Red Rose_ rode at her +moorings in a sheltered pool. For half a mile, sand and shallow water +ran between Marston and the beach. + +He had brought the yacht round from a neighboring river mouth where the +smoke of a busy port blackened her gear, and had since been occupied on +board. Now he was pleasantly tired, hungry, and braced by the cold. He +knew no amusement that gave him as much satisfaction as working on board +a yacht. In fact, if one went about the thing properly, it was really a +scientific job. + +The dinghy grounded, and letting her bump across the sand, he lighted +his pipe and reviewed his changed life since Wyndham won the Commodore's +cup. Things had begun to change then. For the most part, he had worked +hard; at first as _Columbine_'s mate and supercargo, afterwards as a +merchant's clerk. Although he had invested a good sum, he was really a +clerk. Sometimes he stated his views and Wyndham listened politely; but +when one came to think about it, Harry did not tell him much. Then he +did not altogether understand transactions in which the house engaged. + +For all that, Marston was not hurt. He admitted that his judgment was +not worth much. He had not, like Harry, been trained for business. In +fact, it was something of a relief when Harry came home and he got rid +of his responsibility, although he thought he had, on the whole, managed +rather well. Recently, he had taken things easier and Wyndham had +encouraged him to do so. He suggested Marston's going off for a few days +now and then, and told him not to bother about the office while he +fitted out _Red Rose_. Harry was a good sort, and since he did not need +him, Marston was glad to occupy himself with the yacht. + +By-and-by the dinghy floated off the shoal and Marston saw the Welsh +hills on the other shore were getting dim and blue. He was cold and +drove the little boat briskly across the rippling water. Carrying her up +the beach, he went to an inn where he left his yachting clothes and then +set out across the heathy common for Mrs. Hilliard's house. Mabel gave +him tea by the fire and when it got dark outside they talked in the +flickering glow. Flora, Wyndham and Chisholm were coming to dinner, but +would not arrive yet, and Marston lounged contentedly in a big easy +chair. + +"I don't know if I'm tired or lazy," he remarked. "Anyhow, it's very +nice to sit by the fire with you." + +"When you're lazy?" said Mabel, with a smile. + +"Always," Marston declared. "However, you get a particular satisfaction +from loafing after you have had a good day." + +"On board the yacht? I'm not jealous, Bob, but you haven't been to the +office much." + +"That is so," Marston admitted. "I was rather keen about the business; +in fact, I'm keen yet. I like to know how things are going, even if I +can't help; but the boat's a temptation and Harry doesn't need me all +the time." + +"Do you know how things are going?" + +"For the most part," Marston replied, with a touch of embarrassment, +because he sometimes felt he did not know as much as he would like. "I +don't bother about small particulars." + +"Has Harry stated he did not need you? Or did you imagine this, and make +it an excuse for a holiday?" + +Marston pondered for a moment or two. He did not altogether approve +Mabel's line, perhaps because it excited doubts he had tried to banish. + +"Harry knows I like pottering about the boat," he said. "He has hinted +that I needn't stick to business quite so close now he's in control. +After all, there's hardly enough work for two partners." + +Mabel let this go. She knew Bob and thought he was rather trying to +justify Wyndham than to find an excuse for his own laziness. It looked +as if he suspected his partner was willing to get rid of him now and +then. Moreover, Bob was not lazy. + +"Harry's occupied pretty closely, is he not?" she said. "I have thought +he looks tired." + +"That is so," agreed Marston, who had recently noted a hint of strain +about his comrade. Wyndham was sometimes impatient; his gay carelessness +had gone. "After all, managing a business like ours is not an easy job," +he resumed. "Things, however, are going well and I imagine I made a +sound investment. In fact, we're getting rich." + +A car rolled up the drive and Mabel rang for lights. Flora, Wyndham, and +Chisholm came in and soon afterwards dinner was served. Mrs. Hilliard +did not come down and Mabel, sitting at the top of the table, studied +her guests. Flora looked charming; she had since her marriage got a +touch of dignity. Mabel thought she was happy, but now and then she gave +her husband a quick glance. Wyndham was thin, and although he talked and +laughed, when he was quiet the jaded look Mabel had remarked was plain. +She knew Bob's mind and his puzzled uneasiness about his partner that he +would not own. Chisholm, she thought, was altogether satisfied, and the +grounds for his satisfaction were obvious. Wyndhams' was prospering, and +his consent to his daughter's marriage was justified. Still, Chisholm +did not see very far. + +When they got up Mabel gave them coffee by the fire in the hall and told +the men to smoke. Chisholm, feeling for his tobacco, pulled a piece of +newspaper from his pocket. + +"Have you read the news to-day?" he asked Wyndham. + +"I have not," Wyndham replied. "One may be able to study newspapers at +the office of a navigation board, but my job is not a sinecure. Besides, +Bob deserted me, and I'd hardly time for lunch." + +"Then, I've something that may interest you. I cut the thing out, in +case you missed it. It's headed, 'A tragic story of tropical +adventure.'" + +Wyndham looked up, rather sharply, and held out his hand for the +cutting, but Marston said to Chisholm, "Suppose you read it. Then we'll +all hear." + +"Very well," said Chisholm, who polished his spectacles and began: + +"'Some time since, a small exploring expedition started inland from the +Salinas coast of the Caribbean.'" He stopped and asked: "Isn't that the +country you are exploiting?" + +"Yes," said Wyndham, with some dryness. "It's not a healthy country for +white explorers, unless they're acclimatized. But go on." + +"'The party consisted of a commercial botanist, a student of tropical +diseases, a mining expert, and a trader stationed on the coast.'" + +"Peters!" said Wyndham, looking at Marston. "No doubt, he persuaded the +others; I expected the fellow would try to get on our track." + +"That's the name," said Chisholm and resumed: + +"'The party engaged a number of half-breed porters and set off, although +they had been warned the bush country was disturbed. The belt of swampy +forest was penetrated by the Spaniards four hundred years since, but it +is, for the most part, little known by white men, and its _Mestizo_ and +negro inhabitants dislike strangers.'" + +"The newspaper man seems remarkably well informed," Wyndham observed. "I +expect he has a correspondent in the neighborhood." + +"'When some time had gone and no news of the explorers reached the +coast, the government got alarmed,'" Chisholm went on. "'Señor +Larrinaga, the head official for the district, fitted out a rescue +expedition and searched the forest. They found one survivor, the trader +Peters, exhausted by suffering.'" + +"Peters said Ramon Larrinaga was getting an important man," Marston +interposed. "Sorry, sir! please don't stop." + +"'Peters' story was tragic. The porters had got uneasy soon after the +start, but their employers forced them to go on, until one night, when +the party stopped at an empty village, they vanished. In the morning, +Peters left his companions, with the object of overtaking the porters, +but lost their track, and returning in two or three days, found the +others dead. They were in a native hut and he saw no indication that +violence had been used. Since the party carried their own provisions, it +did not look as if they had been poisoned. Señor Larrinaga had some +trouble to reach the village. The half-breeds and negroes in the forest +belt are turbulent and rebellious and the rescue party was small. He, +however, pushed on and when he arrived found the hut had been burned and +nobody about. Two of the explorers had previously undertaken the +development of rubber and mining concessions for merchants of this city, +by whom their mysterious fate is much regretted.'" + +Chisholm put down the cutting and the others were silent for a few +moments. Wyndham looked disturbed, but lighted a cigarette, rather +deliberately. + +"Peters ought not to have taken those fellows into the bush. He knew the +risk," he said. + +"The others probably knew it, since the paper states they had done such +work before," Marston replied. + +"I think not. Anyhow, they did not know all the risk. Peters did. It's +significant that he escaped." + +"You don't imply that he ought not to have escaped?" Chisholm said, with +some surprise. + +"Certainly not. Still the fellow's cunning and greedy. I expect he got +up the expedition, and he gambled with his companions' lives. If he had +won, I don't imagine they would have got much of the reward." + +Mabel studied Wyndham. It was plain that he did not like Peters and she +thought he had some grounds for resenting his attempt to explore the +country. Wyndham was a trader and Peters, no doubt, a rival, but she did +not think he was altogether moved by commercial jealousy. Somehow the +thing went deeper than this. His voice was level, but she saw his calm +was forced. Mabel remembered that he had taken some time to light his +cigarette. + +"The half-breeds seem to be a lot of savage brutes," Chisholm remarked. +"What stock do they spring from? The Carib?" + +"The African strain is strongest, and pure negroes are numerous. In +Central and part of South America, it's hard to fix the origin of the +population. About the cities, they've made some progress and a number of +their institutions are good. In the swamps I know best, they have gone +back to rules of life the slaves brought from Africa long since. If you +want to understand them, that's important." + +"Do you think the Bat had anything to do with the explorers getting +killed?" Marston asked. + +"We don't know they were killed, and the Bat's rather a bogey of +yours," Wyndham replied. "Anyhow, from one point of view, perhaps his +efforts to keep out Peters and his gang were justified. The country +belongs to the Bat and his friends; their rules are not ours, but they +suit the people who use them, and I expect they know what often happens +to a colored race when white men take control. Semi-civilization and +industrial servitude, forced on you for others' benefit, are a poor +exchange for liberty." + +"You mean their leaders know?" said Mabel. "They would lose their power +when the white men came?" + +Wyndham said nothing for a moment and Marston imagined he was getting +impatient. Then Flora gave him a puzzled glance and he smiled. + +"Did the fellow you thought the Bat look very powerful, Bob?" he asked. + +"In a way, he did not," said Marston. "He was a dirty, ragged old +impostor--and yet I don't know. Perhaps it was his grin, but you got a +hint that he was a bigger man than he looked. There was something about +him----" + +"Something Mephistophelian?" Wyndham suggested with a twinkle. + +"But Mephistopheles was rather a gentleman," Flora remarked. + +"That's it! You have given me the clew I was feeling for," said Marston. +"You felt the old fellow might have been a gentleman long since and had +degenerated. Now I come to think of it, his confounded grin was +ironical; as if he knew your point of view and laughed at it. In fact, I +imagine he laughed at himself; at his claim to be a magician and the +tricks he used. A cynical brute, perhaps, but he was not a fool." + +"Aren't you getting romantic, Bob?" Flora asked. + +Marston said nothing. He had seen Wyndham's frown and imagined he had +had enough. For a few moments Mabel studied both. She saw Bob wanted to +talk about something else, but she did not mean to help him yet. His +portrait of the old mulatto had given her ground for thought. For one +thing, it had disturbed Wyndham, and she wondered why. She was not +deceived when Wyndham laughed. + +"As a rule, Bob is not romantic, but he was ill before he left the +lagoon and fever excites one's imagination. We'll let it go. Did you +shift the ballast they stowed forward of _Red Rose_'s mast, Bob?" + +"I did. We moved half a ton of iron and she trims much better with it +aft," Marston replied. + +Then they talked about the yacht until Mabel got up and took them to the +drawing-room. She was curious, but in the meantime did not think her +curiosity would be satisfied. Bob knew no more than he had told and it +was plain that Wyndham meant to use reserve. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WYNDHAM CHANGES HIS PLAN + + +There was no wind, the sun was hot, and the reflection of _Red Rose_'s +mast and rigging trembled on the shining sea. She rode at anchor in a +quiet bay, near the woods that rolled down to the smooth white boulders. +Dark firs checkered the fresh green of the beeches and the bronzy yellow +of the new oak leaves. The tide flowed smoothly past the yacht, and +across the strait a lonely cloud threw a soft blue shadow on the scarred +face of a lofty crag. Now and then the echoes of a blasting shot rolled +among the hills. Flora sat in the yacht's cockpit. She wore a pale +yellow dress that harmonized with her brown eyes and hair. Wyndham lay +on the counter, smoking a cigarette, and when she thought he did not see +her Flora gave him a careful glance. After a few days at sea, Harry's +face was getting brown and he was losing his jaded look, but he was thin +and she did not like the way his mouth was set. He had been working hard +for some time, and now he had taken a holiday the strain he had borne +did not relax. Flora did not altogether understand this, because things +were going well with Wyndhams'. + +She looked up the strait. Not far off an old castle stood upon a lawn +where a long green point ran out, and the spot had romantic memories for +her. She had promised to marry Harry on the lawn, one summer night when +the yacht's lanterns twinkled in the roadstead and colored fires burned +on the castle walls. Wyndham lifted his head, and smiled when he saw +where she was looking. + +"It is not very long since, scarcely twelve months, but much has +happened in the meantime," he said. + +"How did you know--?" Flora asked and blushed. + +"Your thoughts were in your eyes; gentle thoughts. It looks as if you +were not disillusioned yet!" + +"I'm not," said Flora, firmly. "For all that, I don't know if I like you +when you're cynical." + +"It's a relapse, or perhaps a reaction. Living up to your standard is a +bit of a strain now and then." + +"Would you sooner I lowered the standard?" + +"Not at all," said Wyndham, with a twinkle. "Keep it as high as you can +for yourself, so long as you are willing to make some allowances for +me." + +"That's a man's point of view," Flora remarked. "However, on the whole, +you're very good. I really don't get many jars." + +She studied him and mused. Harry was all, or very nearly all, she had +thought, and she was happy. Sometimes, perhaps, she wished he would give +her a little more of his confidence, about the office for example. The +control of the extending business was not easy; she saw he had cares he +did not talk about. He was a handsome man and she approved the +fastidious neatness of his white yachting clothes, but he looked +fine-drawn. Flora rather liked this half-ascetic look; Harry had no +gross passions to draw him away from her, although she sometimes feared +she had a rival in his ambition. He was ambitious and did not tell her +much about his plans. + +She looked about. Near the point, a little varnished boat shone in the +strong light. Bob had taken Mabel for a row in the dinghy. + +"I'm sorry for them," she remarked. + +"Sorry for whom?" said Wyndham, and turned his head. "Oh, yes; it's hard +for Bob! Mabel, no doubt, gets some satisfaction from feeling she's +doing what she ought. I, myself, don't know if she ought or not, but +this doesn't matter so long as Bob's persuaded. Well, I suppose she's +worth waiting for and Bob is patient." + +"You are not patient," Flora rejoined. "You refused to wait." + +Wyndham gave her a twinkling smile. "No; I hadn't Bob's advantages. I +seized my chance, and made a plunge. So, I think, did you!" + +"After all, I wasn't very rash. I knew you better than my friends; but +I'll own to feeling proud because they're all satisfied. You were not +very long persuading them." + +"It cost me something," said Wyndham quietly. "However, we'll let it go. +I mean to have a lazy day and brace up for our climbing trip in the +morning. I sent a message that we would need a car." + +Flora nodded and glanced at a peak that rose behind the hills across the +sparkling strait. She was a mountaineer and sometimes wondered whether +she liked best the high rocks or the sea. Then she turned and noted a +long plume of smoke that rolled across the woods. + +"The early boat from town," she said. + +A steamer swung round the point and headed for the yacht, piling the +oily water in a wave at her bows. The thud of her paddles nearly +drowned the music of the band on board, and confused echoes rang among +the trees. A group of passengers forward sang lustily and a row leaned +against the rail. + +"She'll pass pretty close," said Wyndham. "I wonder whether anybody we +know is on board." + +Flora picked up the glasses and Wyndham, resting on his elbow, turned +his head. The steamer drove on, a feather of foam shooting up her stem, +and Wyndham languidly studied the faces of the passengers. Then, when +she was level with the yacht, he moved abruptly, for a short, thin man +with a yellow face sat on a bench, looking at _Red Rose_. + +"Do you see somebody? Shall I give you the glasses?" Flora asked. + +"No," said Wyndham, sharply. "Hold fast! Look out for her wash!" + +Flora seized the coaming and the white wave from the steamer's paddles +lifted the yacht. _Red Rose_ plunged violently and when she steadied, +the passenger boat was slowing near the pier. Flora put down the glasses +and turned to Wyndham. She had seen the little man on the bench and +imagined Harry was studying him. The fellow looked like a foreigner and +she did not like his face. Yet it was strange his being on board the +steamer had annoyed Harry. She thought it had annoyed him, although the +need to warn her about the wash perhaps accounted for the sharpness of +his voice. + +"I saw all I wanted," Wyndham resumed, with a touch of grimness. "I +thought you might drop the glasses when the wave struck us. If I wasn't +lazy, I'd send a complaint to the office about their driving their +boats full speed across a yacht anchorage. Has the splash hurt your +dress?" + +Flora looked down and shook the sparkling drops from the thin material. + +"This stuff won't spoil. A dress that will spoil is no use for yachting; +I've been to sea before." + +Soon afterwards the others returned. They had promised to lunch with +Chisholm at the hotel where Flora and Mabel had a room, but by and by +Wyndham remarked: + +"I feel rather dull and think I won't go ashore. Perhaps you had better +stay, Bob, and we'll fit the new rigging screws. The others look as if +the hooks might draw in a hard breeze." + +"Stay if you like," said Flora. "You have come for a holiday. Are you +sure you feel equal to our climb in the morning?" + +Wyndham hesitated. "I'd hate to disappoint you, but I am lazy. I found +the scramble up the big gully hard enough the last time I went along the +ridge, and I hadn't been to Africa then. After close work in an office, +three thousand feet and some awkward rock climbing is a stiff pull." + +Flora looked at the others. Harry was tired and rather slack, and she +wanted to indulge him. It was something of a relief when Marston played +up. + +"We came for a cruise, not to climb hills," he said. "Let's stop and go +fishing in the dinghy." + +"There aren't many fish and digging bait's a bother," Wyndham replied. +"I've a better plan. The wind will turn east at sunset and there is a +moon. Suppose we run down the coast to Carmeltown and see the Irish +boats finish their cross-channel race?" + +The others agreed and in the evening _Red Rose_ left the anchorage. It +was getting dark when they hoisted sail, but Marston, who occupied with +the halyards, thought he heard a distant shout. Looking round, he saw a +dinghy near the point. + +"Is that somebody hailing us?" he asked. + +"I don't think so," said Wyndham. "There are other boats about. But be +careful; you've got the topsail yard foul of the lift." + +Marston pulled the yard clear, and dropping down the channel through the +sands, they stole out to sea. A light east wind blew behind them, the +water sparkled as the moon rose, and shadowy woods and dark hills opened +out and faded on their port side. The night was warm, the sea ran in +long undulations, wrinkled by the breeze. In the distance one heard surf +break upon the reefs, and now and then a steamer with throbbing engines +went by. Wyndham lounged at the tiller, Marston and Mabel sat under the +booby hatch and talked quietly, while Flora, in the cockpit sang a song. +_Red Rose_, lurching gently with all sail set, headed for the west. + +"Harry's plan is good," Flora remarked when she finished her song. +"There are two grand things, the sea and the mountains; but, on a night +like this, I like the sea best." + +"Then you ought to be happy and I hope you are," rejoined Mabel. "The +trouble about dividing your affection between two objects is, when you +get one you feel you want the other." + +"That is so now and then," Flora agreed. "When you can't have both, you +are forced to choose and choosing's generally hard." + +"You let Harry choose for you. Perhaps it's a good plan, but I don't +know if I'll use it much with Bob." + +Flora laughed and thought Mabel's remark was justified. It looked as if +Harry had meant to leave the strait, although he had said nothing about +this until the passenger boat arrived. Anyhow, it did not matter. She +was glad to indulge him and it was a splendid night for a sail. Flora +was happy and began to sing again. + +The wind freshened as they crossed a rock-fringed bay where a famous +emigrant ship went down. Sparkling ripples flecked the swell, which +presently began to roll in short angry waves. The rigging hummed, a +foaming wake ran astern, and a white ridge stood up about _Red Rose_'s +bows. After a time, Marston and the paid hand set a smaller jib and +hauled down the topsail, and when they had finished Bob stood on deck +looking about. The sea ahead was white and _Red Rose_ rolled hard when +the rising combers picked her up. Astern, the dinghy sheered about and +lifted half her length out of the water when she felt the strain on the +rope. Once or twice she surged forward on a wave, as if she were going +to leap on board. Marston had seen enough and jumped into the cockpit. + +"It's freshening up," he said. "The tide will be running strong round +Carmel when we get there and the sea breaks awkwardly in the race. If +you're going on, we'll heave down a reef and pull the dinghy on deck." + +Wyndham looked at his watch. "I don't know if I'm going on or not. The +flood's running now and there are two nasty races before we reach +Carmel. Suppose we make for Porth Gwynedd? I don't see much use in +getting wet." + +"The Porth's an awkward harbor to enter in the dark," Marston remarked +thoughtfully. + +"I know the way," said Wyndham. "Mrs. Evans will give the girls a room; +we have got her up late at night before. Ask them what they think?" + +Flora and Mabel agreed, Wyndham changed his course, and the dark hills +they were following got nearer. By and by Marston hauled down the +staysail and stood on the deck forward, studying the forbidding coast +Wyndham steered for. + +A narrow strip of gloom, piercing the hills, indicated a valley, and at +its end a dim red light blinked. One could see no entrance. Shadowy +rocks dropped to the water, and a line of foam marked the course of the +tide across a reef. A white belt of surf glimmered without a break at +the foot of the cliffs. + +Wyndham, however, did not hesitate and Flora glanced at him with quiet +confidence. The moonlight touched his face and she liked his calm. One +could trust Harry when there was a strain; she was proud of his pluck +and steady nerve. Besides, he looked strangely handsome and virile as he +controlled the plunging yacht. + +When the white turmoil on the reef was close ahead she saw a break in +the rocks. The gap was dark and very narrow; spouting foam played about +its mouth. Wyndham signed to the fisher lad at the mainsheet, blocks +rattled, and _Red Rose_, swerving, listed over until her lee deck was in +the foam. Showers of spray blew across her, she was sailing very fast, +and Flora knew she would soon be broken on the rocks if Wyndham missed +the harbor mouth. + +They drove past the reef, the long boom lurched across, and _Red Rose_ +rolled violently. Dark rocks towered above her mast and the sails +thrashed and filled in the conflicting gusts, but the water got smooth +and the harbor opened up. Presently Marston jumped to the foot of the +mast and the peak of the mainsail swung down. + +"Starboard!" he shouted. "Look out for the perch!" + +Flora looked under the sail and saw a tall post with iron stays running +from it into the water. She wondered whether the flapping canvas hid it +from Wyndham, because he was slow to move the helm. + +"Starboard it is," he answered after a moment or two, leaning hard on +the tiller as he pushed it across. + +There was a heavy shock, something cracked and broke, and a thick iron +bar ground against the yacht's side. She slowed but did not stop and +when she forged ahead again Marston leaped forward. + +"Bobstay's gone and bowsprit's broken at the cap!" he shouted. + +"Down sail! Ready with the anchor," said Wyndham quietly. + +Marston dropped the anchor under the bows, running chain rattled, and +_Red Rose_ stopped. They pulled up the half-swamped dinghy and when they +had thrown out the water Marston took a rope to a pier. Wyndham went +forward and occupied himself with the wreck at the bows until Marston +returned. + +"We'll need a new bowsprit and she's drawn the stay-bolt on the stem," +he said. "I think that's all, but it will keep us here two or three +days. Perhaps you had better see if you can wake Mrs. Evans before we +land the girls." + +Marston pulled up the harbor and returning after a time said Mrs. Evans +was getting a room ready. Flora and Mabel got on board the dinghy and +when Marston rowed them to the steps Mabel remarked: "I suppose Harry +couldn't see the perch?" + +"He could hear me shout," said Marston. "I made noise enough. If he'd +shoved his helm over, instead of looking for the perch, we'd have gone +past. I don't quite understand it, because Harry's not often slow. +However, a new bowsprit doesn't cost much; the only trouble is, we'll +have to stay while somebody makes it." + +Flora said nothing, although she was somewhat puzzled. On the whole, she +imagined Harry had not looked for the perch; the sail was in his way. He +was slow to move the helm and she thought this strange. All the same, it +was not important, and she talked to Mabel about the Welsh landlady as +they went to the inn. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PETERS RENEWS HIS OFFER + + +Red Rose remained in port for a week. Wyndham needed a stay and +fastenings for the new bowsprit, and although the Welsh ship-chandler +could supply him with galvanized iron articles he sent to Southampton +for copper. Marston thought this curious, but Harry was fastidious about +the boat and for use in salt water copper was better than iron. The +party, however, was not bored. Porth Gwynedd, with its small slate +houses standing between the clear, green water and the quarries that +scarred the face of a hill, was picturesque. The breeze was light and +warm, and sunshine sparkled on the sea. They went fishing, swam about a +sheltered cove, and climbed the rocks. Wyndham's mood was cheerful and +Flora was content. She thought Harry was recovering from the strain; a +rest was all he needed and she was glad she had persuaded him to make +the cruise. + +When the new bowsprit was fitted they set off again along the coast and +stopped at another rock-bound port. A summer hotel stood by a cove +outside the little town, and a day or two after their arrival Marston +and Wyndham lounged on the terrace by the water at the end of the lawn. +The spot was sheltered by a tall cliff, and a thick shrubbery ran +between the grass and terrace. Flora and Mabel occupied a bench in a +nook cut out of the thick foliage. The sun was hot, and all was very +quiet but for the drowsy splash of water on the rocks and the +intermittent rustle of leaves. + +"I like this spot," said Flora. "I have enjoyed the cruise. There's +something about the sea that soothes one." + +"Do you need soothing?" Mabel asked. + +Flora smiled, a rather thoughtful smile. "Not in a way. I've good +grounds for being satisfied; but I had begun to get disturbed about +Harry. He works too hard. No doubt he's forced to bother about his +business, but he looked thin and was sometimes moody." + +"He has done too much," Mabel agreed. "Bob tells me things are going +remarkably well for Wyndhams'. All the same, I expect it has cost Harry +some effort." + +"Harry does not grudge the effort," said Flora. "I grudge it for him. It +was mainly for my sake he went abroad and overtaxed his strength in an +unhealthy climate in order to make Wyndhams' prosperous." She stopped +and looked up, knitting her brows. "Here is the little man I saw on +board the steamer! I wonder what he wants." + +Mabel studied the man who crossed the lawn. She remembered that she had +seen him at Flora's wedding. His face was yellow and wrinkled, and +although he wore light summer clothes made in the latest English fashion +there was something foreign about him. He went towards the shrubbery +with quick resolute steps. + +"It's Peters, somebody Bob and Harry met abroad," Mabel remarked. "No +doubt he's looking for them; they're on the terrace not far off." + +"It's strange, but I feel I'd sooner he hadn't come," said Flora with a +frown. + +The man vanished behind the shrubs and a few moments afterwards Wyndham, +lighting a cigarette on the terrace, dropped the match. + +"Peters!" he exclaimed. + +"Hallo!" said Marston, who turned and gave the newcomer an unfriendly +glance. "We didn't expect you." + +Peters sat down on a bench. "All the same, I have followed you along the +coast for a week. Felt I needed a change after my adventures with the +exploring party, which I dare say you heard about. Business was slack, +and I had a dispute with my employers. I resolved to give up my post, +caught a Royal Mail boat, and here I am." + +"I don't see why you followed us," said Marston, coldly. + +"Then I must explain. Some time since, I suggested your giving me a +partnership. The plan has some extra advantages now." + +"The advantages are not very obvious," Marston rejoined. + +"Let me state them," said Peters, coolly. "The back country behind the +lagoon is disturbed; there are indications that the negroes and +half-breeds mean to rebel and Ramon Larrinaga is resolved to put them +down. It's possible he may do so, but I doubt." + +"I don't know if this is much of an argument for our extending our +business in the neighborhood. But why do you doubt Don Ramon's ability +to keep order?" + +"It's an argument for your putting a man who knows the country in +control. If a rebellion breaks out, there will be opportunities for +business such as one seldom gets; that is, if the situation's cleverly +handled. But we'll let this go in the meantime. Larrinaga has a cunning +antagonist who is much stronger than he thinks." + +"You mean the Bat?" + +Peters nodded. "I expect you have heard about the black Napoleon who +founded a negro state in the Antilles? Well, it's not impossible the Bat +will make himself as powerful as the other." + +"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "Such things can't be done again; the times +have changed." + +"I wonder whether Wyndham thinks it ridiculous. He's better informed +than you," Peters said meaningly. + +Marston turned to Wyndham, but he said nothing. His face was set and he +looked as if he tried to brace himself. + +"You had an example of the Bat's power not long since," Peters went on. +"My exploring companions were poisoned, but not before the tropical +diseases man had made some interesting discoveries. Although the +swamp-belt is unhealthy, malarial fever is not so common as some people +think. In fact, it does not account for all the fatal sickness." + +"Yet strangers die from fever and among the half-breeds the mortality is +large." + +"That is so," Peters agreed. "All the same, my notion is, it's better to +study Obeah than medicine, and, if you want to enjoy good health, +cultivate the friendship of the Bat. He knows how to get rid of people +he disapproves." + +"The brute ought to be shot! However, I don't see what this has got to +do with our giving you a share in our business." + +"I think your partner sees," said Peters, meaningly, and Wyndham +advanced a few steps with his fist clenched. His eyes shone and the +veins on his forehead swelled; but when Marston thought he would seize +the other he stopped a yard or two off. + +"How much do you know?" he asked in a hoarse voice. + +"Nearly all, I think," Peters replied, and turned to Marston. "The Bat +is clever and knows how to use the natural products of the swamps. In +fact, I imagine some of his discoveries would surprise our doctors. He +cannot, however, make all he needs, and somebody has supplied him with +arms and cartridges, besides chemicals and drugs in use in civilized +countries. It's sometimes an advantage to cure your friends as well as +destroy your antagonists, and the power of an up-to-date Obeah man is +not altogether founded on magic." + +"Who has supplied him?" Marston asked, with strange and horrible +misgivings. + +Peters smiled. "You were very dull for some time, but I think you begin +to see. Well, I suppose you can comfort yourself with the reflection +that when you shared the profit you didn't know how it was earned." + +Marston turned and struggled for control when he saw Wyndham's face. The +sweat stood on the latter's forehead and he shrank from his comrade's +glance. + +"Is this true, Harry?" Marston asked. "Have we been backing that +devilish mulatto?" + +"You know now," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "It looks as if you +had got a nasty knock. I'd hoped you would not find out." + +Marston tried to pull himself together. He must be calm, but calm was +hard. Peters gave him a mocking smile. + +"There's something yet. The Bat is not a mulatto." + +"Not a mulatto?" said Marston dully. "What is he then?" + +"A white man. If you're not satisfied, ask your partner. He knows him +best." + +"Who is the Bat, Harry?" + +"Rupert Wyndham," Wyndham answered and turned his head. + +For a moment or two Marston said nothing, and then his lethargy +vanished. Horror gave way to fury and he clenched his hand as he turned +to Peters. + +"You have shot your bolt and missed," he said. "You're a cunning brute, +but all the same a fool. Now get off, or I'll throw you over the wall." + +Peters hesitated. His surprise was plain, and Wyndham's tense face +softened to a grim smile. Peters had not reckoned on Bob. The latter +advanced upon him threateningly. + +"Did you think you could blackmail us?" he resumed with a hoarse laugh. +"That we'd take you for a partner in order to keep you silent while we +got rich? The thing's ridiculous! Now you begin to understand this, +aren't you going?" + +Peters said nothing and went. His mistake was obvious; he might have +forced Wyndham to accept his terms, but he had misjudged Marston. When +he had gone, Marston sat down, rather limply, and there was silence for +a few minutes. + +"Well?" said Wyndham at length. + +Marston looked up. "I have got a knock, but the thing's done and there's +no use in calling myself a careless fool. For all that, I ought to have +seen what was going on; I'm a partner in the house." + +"And if you had seen?" Wyndham asked. + +"I'd have stopped the business and brought you away." + +"It's possible. You're a resolute fellow, Bob. But what are you going to +do about it now?" + +"Put things straight; as far as money can put them straight," said +Marston, quietly. "The cost doesn't matter. It's lucky I am rich." + +"Then you don't mean to break the partnership and give me up?" + +"Certainly not," said Marston in a surprised voice. "We are partners for +good and bad, and Mabel is Flora's friend. When we started for Africa, +she told me my job was to stand by you." + +Wyndham laughed, a bitter laugh. "It looks as if I didn't cheat Mabel +when I cheated all the rest. But you had better let me go before your +staunchness costs you too much." + +"I'm going to stick to you," Marston declared. "I undertook the job; +there's no more to be said." He paused and resumed quietly: "How did you +get into Rupert Wyndham's power?" + +Wyndham's grimness vanished. He looked embarrassed and moved. "You're a +very good sort, Bob. I don't know if I did get into his power; anyhow, +not at first. I rather think ambition carried me away. You have not +known poverty; I doubt if you'll understand." + +"I'll try," said Marston, and Wyndham went on: + +"The house was bankrupt when I got control, and I was in love with +Flora. Perhaps you think it was dishonorable to tell her so. Well, I +haven't your scruples and we Wyndhams like a risk. The worst was, I let +her run a risk she didn't know. We met the Bat at the lagoon and he +showed me how I could get rich. He knew me; I didn't know him at the +beginning. Can't you see the situation? I'd won the girl I loved, but I +must support my wife. I couldn't force her to bear hardship because she +loved me, and, for her sake, I must satisfy her friends. Well, I saw and +seized my chance, and almost before I knew I'd gone so far I could not +draw back." + +"Did you want to draw back?" Marston asked. + +Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "You're cleverer than people think, +Bob. Sometimes I was sorry I had begun, but I imagine I would not have +stopped if I could. I meant to get rich; to give Flora a high place, +and--though the statement looks ironical--to justify myself. Well, I +went on until bad luck sent Peters to pull me up." + +Marston pondered for a moment or two. "Now I understand why the witches +in _Macbeth_ made me think about the Bat; they tempted him with lying +promises. But I'm not much of a philosopher and we have the Bat to +reckon on. Peters doesn't count." + +"Doesn't he count?" Wyndham asked. + +"Not at all," said Marston. "When he told me his secret, he lost the +power to bully you. The fellow's a fool; he thought me greedy." + +"But he can tell others, Larrinaga, for example." + +"That's not important," said Marston quietly. "We don't want to earn +more money by helping the Bat. We're going to put things straight, and +if Larrinaga's government has a just claim on us, we must pay." + +"After all, the Bat's my uncle," Wyndham remarked. + +"Yes," said Marston. "It complicates things. We must go out again and +get him away." + +"Get him away? The man is powerful. I doubt if the government can put +him down." + +"For all that we're going to try." + +"You're an obstinate fellow, Bob. We'll talk about it again. There is +somebody else Peters might tell." + +"Flora? He'll be too late. You must tell her now." + +For a moment or two Wyndham's mouth set firm and the sweat stood on his +forehead. Then he said quietly, "It will be a hard job, desperately +hard; all the same, I suppose it can't be put off. Rupert Wyndham and +the powers he stands for have cheated me, but I must pay." + +Marston made a sign of agreement. "When you have paid, you're free, and +can begin again." + +Then he turned and saw Flora in the narrow path between the bushes. Her +face was white, but her eyes were gentle when she looked at him. "Thank +you, Bob! We owe you much," she said. + +Marston pulled himself together and gave her a friendly smile. Then he +touched Wyndham's arm, as if to encourage him, and left them alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY + + +When Marston had gone Flora sat down on the bench. She was pale and +trembled. Wyndham, looking very grim, leaned against the wall. They were +quiet for a moment or two, and then he asked: + +"How much did you hear?" + +"I heard enough," said Flora, with an effort for calm. "I don't +understand it all, but I must understand. I heard Bob's voice, sharp and +angry, and came to see if you were quarreling with the strange little +man. Then I stopped where the shrubs are thick. Perhaps I oughtn't----" + +"It doesn't matter," Wyndham replied. "Bob urged that you must be told +and I think I meant to tell you anyhow. When one is found out, it's +better to plead guilty. Well, what do you want to know?" + +Flora turned her head. His stern coldness hurt. She thought he feared +her judgment would be merciless. Harry did not know her yet. + +"Well?" he said again. + +"I must know all. You helped the man they call the Bat? You sent him +goods he needed; drugs among other things, although you knew he would +use some to poison people and make the superstitious negroes think him a +magician?" + +"Yes," said Wyndham. "At least, I gave him drugs. I don't altogether +know how he used the stuff." + +"He poisoned the explorers who went into the bush." + +"It's possible," said Wyndham. "I think that's all." + +"Still you knew he was cunning and cruel. You knew he killed people who +wouldn't obey him and he used magic." + +"I don't know much about Voodoo and can't state if it's magic or tricks. +However, I imagine the Bat did use it against people who disputed his +rule." + +"He gave you valuable goods; you were getting rich," Flora resumed. Then +she paused and added in a gentler voice: "He gave you pearls; but you +sent me none, although Bob brought some for Mabel. You said they were +unlucky." + +"It looks as if I was a romantic sentimentalist. Anyhow, I didn't want +you to wear pearls I got from the Bat." + +"Yet you were willing to trade with him! You gave him your support!" + +"I did," said Wyndham grimly. "For a tempting price. Now my luck has +turned and I won't get the price. My reward has vanished when it was in +my hands. Nothing is left." + +Flora pondered. In a sense, she thought he exaggerated, because much was +left. All the same, she was glad he had been cheated and the reward for +his wrongdoing had gone. He might have wanted to keep it, and her +refusal to share it might have separated them. Still she would not think +about this yet. She must break down his stern calm and much depended on +the line she took. + +"You misjudged me and perhaps that accounted for your giving way," she +said. "You thought I hadn't pluck enough to marry you when you were +poor? My dear, I loved you and knew you were not rich!" + +"You hadn't known poverty. There was another thing; your father made +stipulations and of course he was justified. I was forced to satisfy him +and your friends. Would you have liked them to pity you for a romantic +fool whom a common adventurer had carried away?" + +"Ah," said Flora, "you didn't know my friends much better than you know +me! Mabel's my friend and she let her lover go away. I think it hurt Bob +when he found out what you had done; but has he turned from you?" + +Wyndham said nothing and she resumed: "However, all this is not +important now. You can't go on. What are you going to do?" + +"It looks as if Bob had made some plans for me. I don't know yet if I'll +consent. My plan is simpler and would save him trouble and risk. It +depends on you if I carry it out." + +Flora gave him a quick glance, for his manner was baffling. He looked +stern and his mouth was set. + +"How does it depend on me?" she asked. + +"I cheated you and your father and you have found me out. You know how +deep in the mud I've gone and it wouldn't be strange if you thought I +might go deeper. I expect you have lost all trust in me. Well, if the +shock's too great, you must give me up. I'll drop out, vanish like my +uncle, and trouble you no more." + +Flora laughed, a hoarse, emotional laugh that shook her and brought the +blood to her skin. + +"You thought I would give you up? You have been afraid of this since you +saw Peters at the church and you dropped the ring? Oh, but you are very +dull! I love you and it was for my sake you did wrong. Well, I am not +afraid to share the punishment. If I could save you, I'd bear it all. +The thing that hurts is, you doubted if I was brave enough." + +"I knew your pluck; you gave me proof when you married me. For all that, +I knew your hatred of shabbiness and wrong. I'm an unsuccessful +criminal." + +"All the same you are my husband," said Flora quietly. + +Wyndham looked hard at her and hesitated. + +"My dear," he said, "I cannot urge this claim. It would hurt less to +leave you than try to keep you if you shrank." + +"Then you doubt me yet?" + +"No. I'm ashamed and humbled. I don't know what I ought to do, or what I +ought to say." + +"There is not much to be said, but it is difficult. Come here, Harry, +and give me your hand. One hates to talk like a moralizing prig and it +does no good; but you have gone down hill for me and I want to help you +back." + +Wyndham came to the bench and she took his hand in hers. "I am your wife +and will not let you go," she went on. "Still you must give up the money +you have earned and put straight the harm you have done. It doesn't +matter if this makes us poor. I can go without much you have given me. +I'd be glad to go without!" + +"Ah," he said with strong emotion, "I didn't know you, Flora! Although +you hate my offense, you mean to stick to me?" + +"My dear! I expect the temptation was very strong and at the beginning +you did not know all you did. It was rather horrible to help a renegade +outcast to plot against civilized rule and try to put in its place +superstitious cruelty. But that's done with. We must think how we can +make good." + +"I can't make good at my cost. You and Bob must pay, and I cheated Bob." + +"Bob will bear you no grudge and I want to help." + +"Very well," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "You have given me a +chance I don't deserve to get straight again, and I'd be a meaner brute +than I am if I let it go." He got up and his face was very resolute. +"Now I'll look for Bob." + +He went off and Flora, although badly shaken, was satisfied. She had +saved her husband from the Bat and from himself. He had not protested +much; on the whole he had been reserved and cold, but she knew he was +moved and one could trust him when he looked like that. She began to +feel comforted and get back her calm. The soft splash of languid waves +on the rocks beyond the terrace was soothing. Except for this, all was +very quiet and the quietness steadied her. + +By-and-by she heard a step, and looking up, saw Peters had come back. He +smiled, but his smile was cruel and she shrank from him with a quick +half-conscious movement. Peters took off his hat. + +"Mrs. Wyndham, I believe?" he said. + +"I am Mrs. Wyndham," Flora replied. "What do you want?" + +"A few minutes' talk. I imagine you will be interested." + +Flora hated him. He knew Harry's offense and meant to use his power; +perhaps to demand money and perhaps for revenge. He had power, but since +she and Bob knew Harry's guilt, not as much as he thought. She wanted to +make him feel the scorn and loathing he excited. All the same, she might +find out something useful if she led him on. He was an unscrupulous +antagonist and she meant to fight for her husband. She made a vague sign +of agreement and Peters sat down on some steps in the terrace wall. + +"Your father holds an important post and your friends are well-known +people," he began. "I expect you value their rather exclusive society." + +"What has this to do with you?" Flora asked. + +Peters made a deprecating gesture. "Wyndhams' has now some standing on +the exchange; the house's credit is pretty good, and people are +beginning to think your husband a clever business man. Wyndham is +clever, but for a man to build up a business he must be known for +something else. If he wants to command people's trust, he must keep +certain rules." + +"I suppose that is so," Flora agreed with forced carelessness. + +"Very well," said Peters. "I'm afraid Wyndhams' new prosperity rests on +an unsafe foundation. A statement about their trade on the Caribbean +would shake it badly; in fact, I doubt if the house would stand the +shock. A merchant must enjoy his customers' confidence and confidence is +soon destroyed." + +"You imply you could destroy the confidence people have in Wyndhams'?" + +"It is possible. For all that, I hesitate-- You see, you, and to some +extent Commodore Chisholm, would be involved in your husband's fall. But +I needn't labor this. You know how prosperous conventional people treat +friends who lose their place." + +Flora struggled for calm, but her eyes flashed and the blood came to her +skin. + +"Oh," she said, forgetting the part she meant to play, "you want a +bribe? Money to be silent? You could not rob my husband, so you came to +me! You think I am weaker and you can work on my fears?" + +"It looks as if he had told you something," Peters remarked coolly. "I +do not think he has told you all." + +There was a step on the path behind them and as Flora turned Marston +advanced. His face was red and very grim. Bob was generally calm, but he +was savage now. + +"Suppose you leave the thing to me? I saw the fellow coming here," he +said to Flora, and stopped in front of Peters. "You haven't gone yet? I +had some trouble to get rid of you before, and don't mean to be bothered +by you again. This is the last annoyance you will give us." + +Moving forward deliberately, he seized the other and swung him off his +feet. Peters was short and light, for fever had worn him thin; Marston +was big and powerful. He got a good hold where the other's clothes were +slack, and lifting him with a strong effort, went up the steps. Peters +kicked and struggled. Marston gasped and when his hat fell off Flora +laughed. She was moved by a reaction after the strain. When Marston +reached the top step he held Peters over the edge of the wall. + +"The tide's low," he said hoarsely, with obvious disappointment. "I was +going to throw you into the water." + +"If you drop me, somebody would find me on the rocks," Peters replied in +a breathless voice, and Flora tried to stop her wild laughter. Her +control was vanishing and the scene was ludicrous. Peters had looked +grotesque while he wriggled in Bob's grasp and now his coolness supplied +a last touch of grim humor. + +"I don't know if it's worth while to go to jail for you and perhaps it's +not," Marston gasped. He put Peters down and shook him savagely. "For a +blackmailer, you're a poor sort of fool. Can't you see yet how you've +muddled things? You can't tell Mrs. Wyndham more than she knows, and I +won't pay you to tell nobody else. You'll get no bribe for letting +Wyndhams' carry on the lagoon trade, because the trade has stopped for +good. It ought to be obvious that your hold on us has gone and now +you're going too." + +He paused and seizing Peter's shoulders turned him round and half pushed +and half threw him across the terrace. Peters fell into a clump of +shrubs, and getting up, stole away in silence. Then Marston turned to +Flora. + +"Sorry! I expect you don't approve, but I felt I must let myself go. +When people make me think about that confounded lagoon I get savage." + +"I do approve," said Flora, trying to be calm. "Perhaps it wasn't really +humorous, but I was forced to laugh. Did you meet Harry? He went to +look for you." + +"No," said Marston. "I want to see him, and after this little exploit +expect you'll be glad to get rid of me. However, I think you have got +rid of the other fellow." + +He found Wyndham writing a letter in the hotel smoking-room, and sitting +down opposite, waited until he looked up. + +"I suppose you told Flora all about it," Marston remarked. + +"I did. Your advice was good." + +"It was better than I thought. If you had waited, Peters would have +given her his story before she knew yours. I found him trying to begin +it a few minutes since." + +"Ah," said Wyndham, "it looks as if I had run some risk! After all, I +don't know." He paused and resumed with emotion: "I admitted everything, +but she trusts me yet; I think she would have trusted me had I put my +confession off. It's strange, but I didn't know how staunch my wife is. +We'll let this go. What did you do with Peters?" + +Marston laughed. "I came near to throwing him over the wall. Held him +over the edge and wanted to let him drop; but the brute suggested that +somebody would find him on the rocks. I saw the force of this, because +the consequences would have been awkward now we have a big job on hand. +It's plain that you will need me." + +"I do need you. It's lucky I have such a partner. I've got to make +restitution and can't do so at my proper cost. Yet I've no claim; I +cheated you, as I cheated my wife. I'm an unsuccessful rogue and didn't +let my scruples bother me until I was found out." + +"That's sentimental extravagance," Marston said with some embarrassment. +"Anyhow, I am your partner and your responsibilities are mine. I don't +disown my debts." + +"The debts are heavy. I ran them up, without your knowing." + +"We can pay," said Marston, smiling. "It won't break us; I'm pretty rich +and mean to see you out. You can count on my help and my money; in fact, +on all I can give. Now that's done with. There's no more to be said." + +Wyndham gave him a quick, grateful glance. "Thanks! You're rash, but I +must try not to disappoint you. Friendship like yours is rare." + +When Marston went off, he sat for a time, looking straight in front. He +felt slack and strangely humbled, but was conscious of a new resolve. +Although he had gone far down hill, it was, perhaps, not too late to +stop. The climb back would be long and hard; he could never reach his +wife's and his friend's level. All the same, he meant to front the +ascent. They had borne much for him, he must, so far as he was able, try +to repay them. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +UP HILL + + +The smoking-room of the Marine Hotel at Carmeltown was crowded with +yachtsmen on the evening after the channel regatta. Marston and Wyndham +occupied a small table, the former trying to read a newspaper while the +latter looked about. The big room echoed with voices, a haze of tobacco +smoke drifted round the pillars, and now and then a peal of laughter +marked the end of an Irish yachtsman's tale. For all that, Wyndham's +face was rather grim, and Marston, looking up by-and-by, thought he was +brooding. + +"Hallo! Here's Elliot," he exclaimed. "S'pose he came across on the +mailboat. I heard her whistle not long since. Thought he was going to +stop and see if they could salve _Deva_. Anyhow, I'd like to hear about +the collision and it looks as if he was making for us." + +"Yes," said Wyndham. "I imagine he wants to see me." + +Elliot crossed the floor, stopping now and then when somebody spoke to +him, and after a time reached Marston's table, where he sat down. + +"I've been trying to get to you for some minutes, but the Irishmen +wouldn't let me pass. The news of my bad luck soon got across," he +remarked. + +"We didn't get much news," said Marston. "What about the boat?" + +"She's gone; cut down to the bilge and sunk in six fathoms. No chance of +salvage and the navigation board is going to blow her up." + +Marston said he was sorry and asked about the collision. + +"To begin with, I want a drink," said Elliot, who called a waiter and +then resumed: "It was dark and hazy, and we were creeping up to the +anchorage at Kingstown with all sail set. I was at the tiller, but the +wind was very light and she would hardly steer; the tide was carrying +her along. Jevons, looking out under the boom, said he saw a steamer's +lights, but just then I heard a North-Wall boat in the fog. You know the +noise they make when they're steaming fast, and the fog's pretty bad +when those boats slow up. I knew she wasn't far off when I saw her +lights; red, white, and green all together. That meant we had to do +something quick." + +Marston nodded. When a steamer's three lights are seen she is heading +direct for the observer. + +"Our flare wasn't handy, and the first match broke," Elliot resumed. +"Reckon I was awkward and not very cool. However, I got a light and it +was a relief when her whistle indicated that she was changing her +course; but while I was fumbling with the matches I forgot the other +boat. So did Jevons; he owned it afterwards. The North-Wall man went +past us, like a train, lights all over the passenger decks and a +four-foot wave rolling off the bows. She left us dazzled and rather +shaken, and then Jevons shouted that the other fellow was close ahead." + +Elliot stopped and drained his glass, and when he went on his voice was +hoarse. "We were crossing her bows, close-hauled on the starboard tack. +Our business, of course, was to carry on, but our lights were low and +not very bright, and as a rule, it's prudent to give a steamer room. +Anyhow, I shoved down the helm to bring her round, and told Jevons to +get out the big oar when I found her slow. The wind was light and she +was plunging on the North-Wall boat's wake. She came headto, and then a +roller hit her bows and she fell off. Jevons was trying to pull her +round, and for two or three moments I saw the steamer's forecastle. She +was a big, clumsy craft, going light, and looked as high as a house. + +"Then there was a crash and the mast went. I saw our side deck crumble +and the other's stem cut through to the cabin top. Mast and boom were +over the side, and when the round of her bow filled our cockpit I knew +it was time to go. By good luck, we had towed the dinghy and the steamer +held up _Deva_ until we got on board. Then as we cut the painter the old +boat broke away, and the steamer went on, over the top of her. I imagine +she stopped, because we heard her whistle in the fog, but we'd had +enough of her and pulled for the beach. We landed at Kingstown, and I +think that's all." + +Marston sympathized and ordered drinks. Elliot drained his glass and +turned to Wyndham. + +"Well," he said, "she was insured and I want another boat. What's your +price for _Red Rose_?" + +"_Red Rose_ is not for sale," Marston interposed. + +"Then why did Forwood tell me you wanted an offer?" + +Marston looked at Wyndham, who nodded. "It's all right, Bob; I'm going +to sell." Then he turned to Elliot and stated a sum. + +"A moderate price!" the other remarked. "I'll admit it's less than I +thought. Is she sound?" + +"She is not," Wyndham replied. "Port side's weak where the strain of the +rigging comes; she needs some new timbers. The covering board ought to +be relaid all round. Keel's shaky aft; the deadwood ought to be +lifted----" + +He indicated the repairs he thought necessary and Elliot looked at him +with surprise. + +"Since you want to sell, aren't you taking a rather unusual line?" + +Wyndham smiled. "I allowed for defects when I fixed the price. The +carpenter's job will be expensive, but if it's properly done, the boat +will afterwards be nearly as good as new. I think you can rely on this." + +Marston gave his partner a puzzled glance and Elliot said, "After your +frankness, I'll buy her and take my chance." + +"I imagine it's a safe investment," Wyndham rejoined. + +For a few moments Elliot was quiet and then he fixed his eyes on Wyndham +and said in a thoughtful voice, "_Red Rose_ is fast and you sailed her +cleverly. All the same, I never understood how you beat us when you won +the Commodore's cup." + +"I imagine I went the wrong side of the Knoll buoy," Wyndham answered +coolly. "Perhaps this gave us some advantage, because the tide runs +longer near the coast." + +Marston moved abruptly, but Wyndham went on: "I'm not certain; but if +you had filed a protest, I wouldn't have claimed the prize. Bob thought +he saw something in the haze. It might have been a gull, but it might +have been the buoy. Anyhow, we went on and the tide carried us along the +shore." + +The short silence that followed had a hint of strain. Wyndham knew +Elliot knew his winning the race had appealed to Flora's imagination. +Moreover, he thought Elliot had wanted to marry Flora and would have had +Chisholm's support. Marston saw they had got on awkward ground, and felt +embarrassed. + +"After all you did beat us and you were not sure it was the buoy," +Elliot said, in a quiet, meaning voice. "It's too late to file a protest +now. Besides, we were talking about the boat----" + +"I'll put her on the hard, if you'd like a proper survey before you +decide." + +"No," said Elliot. "I don't think it's needful. Your statement satisfied +me. I'll buy her." + +He went off and Wyndham gave Marston a smile. "You look surprised, Bob." + +"Let's have another drink," said Marston, who called a waiter and then +resumed awkwardly: "Elliot played up pretty well. I like the fellow; +he's a sportsman, but after all I think it was a gull we saw. Anyhow, we +won't bother about it again. Why have you sold _Red Rose_?" + +"It ought to be obvious. A yacht costs something and my keeping an +expensive toy wouldn't be justified just now." + +"Romantic exaggeration! You're frankly ridiculous," said Marston with +some warmth. "Wyndhams' isn't going broke." + +Wyndham picked up the newspaper and indicated an advertisement. "I +really think I'm logical. Perhaps, this ought to persuade you I've made +up my mind." + +"Preposterous!" Marston exclaimed, throwing down the paper. "Your pretty +new house? Besides, it's Flora's house as well as yours!" + +"Flora agrees," said Wyndham quietly. + +Marston got up and his face was red. "Looks as if you don't mean to let +me help much. It's senseless exaggeration; things aren't as bad as you +make out. However, I've had enough. I'll get angry if I stay." + +"You ought to approve; I imagined you liked a thorough job," Wyndham +rejoined, and Marston frowned as he crossed the floor. + +Men spoke to him as he passed their tables, but he did not stop and +going to the drawing-room found Flora alone. When he came in she put +down her book and indicated an easy chair. + +"Stop and talk to me, Bob. I was beginning to feel neglected," she said. +"But what has happened? You look annoyed." + +"I am rather savage," Marston admitted. "Think I'll stand until I get +cool. Do you know Harry has sold _Red Rose_?" + +"I knew he wanted to sell her," Flora said quietly. + +"This is not all. D'you know about the ridiculous advertisement he's put +in the newspaper?" + +"Of course! I don't altogether see why you are surprised." + +Marston hesitated. He did not want to admit he had been surprised, and, +after studying Flora thought he could not urge that Wyndham's +reformation might be overdone. + +"Anyhow, you can see why I'm annoyed," he said. "I'm Harry's partner and +am going to marry your oldest friend." + +"I have not forgotten this and it helps me to be frank. You're generous, +Bob, but Harry has done wrong and must pay. He cannot make good at +another's cost." + +"The trouble is, _you_ must pay. Your house, for example! You planned +it, you worked out all the colors, and thought where everything ought to +go. The house is beautiful, you're proud of it, and a woman's home means +much to her." + +Flora turned her head for a moment, but when she looked up again her +eyes shone. + +"I would sooner be proud of my husband. I am proud now and am going to +be prouder. Harry has pluck and meeting obstacles spurs him on. Our part +is to encourage him, while he struggles up hill. I know he'll reach the +top." + +"With a wife like you, he ought to go far," said Marston quietly. "I'm +sorry you won't let me help in the way I want, but s'pose I must agree. +Don't know if I'm romantic, but I've felt the world's a better place +since I knew you and Mabel." + +He went off and soon afterwards Chisholm came in, carrying a newspaper. + +"What does this mean?" he asked, indicating an advertisement. "Telford +showed me the paper. Wanted to know why you were selling the house. I +couldn't tell him. Is Harry getting rich so fast that it isn't big +enough?" + +Flora smiled. "The story's rather long, but I think you must be told. If +we stay here, somebody may come in. Let's go to the breakwater." + +She got her hat and crossing a street they reached a long granite wall +that ran out to sea. The languid swell beat against the massive, +dovetailed blocks, the moon was rising above the gray hills, and when +they had passed the landing place there was nobody about. By-and-by +Chisholm indicated a mooring post and, when Flora sat down, leaned +against the granite parapet. + +"My dear," he said, "I've been puzzled recently; had a notion something +was wrong. For all that, Wyndhams' was obviously prosperous, Harry's an +indulgent husband, and I wouldn't own I'd grounds for bothering, until I +saw this advertisement. Well, sometimes it's rash to meddle, but I'm +anxious. Tell me all you can." + +Flora told him and after she stopped he was quiet for a time. The +moonlight touched his face and she saw the lines get deeper. The old +Commodore was deeply moved, but she was glad he did not look stern. + +"I've got a knock and know how you were hurt. You bear it well," he +said. "To some extent, the fault is mine. When Harry wanted to marry you +I doubted but gave way. I ought to have been firm." + +"You are not accountable," Flora replied. "I wanted you to approve, but +I meant to marry Harry. I loved him, though I knew his drawbacks. But +this doesn't matter; I love him now." + +Chisholm looked at her with knitted brows and she saw he was suffering +for her sake. + +"You are very staunch, but I knew this. You say Harry means to make +reparation. Now he's found out, his repentance is strangely thorough." + +"You must not be bitter," said Flora quietly. + +"Very well. Let's be practical. Your husband's job will be hard and +long. He must carry his load, but part will fall on you. It's already +doing so." + +"That is just. Much of the fault was mine. I trusted Harry, and after +all I trust him better; but at the beginning this was not enough. I +wanted you and our friends to know him; to own he had talent and see my +pride in him was founded well. In a way, it was a mean ambition. I +wanted him to get rich. Not because I'm greedy----" + +"I think I understand," Chisholm remarked. "Perhaps we use the money +standard oftener than we ought. It's not high, but all the same, to earn +money demands some useful qualities." He paused and added with a sigh: +"I am poor and know." + +"You are a dear! Your honesty is worth much more money than you could +have earned. Then you're not hard, as some honest people are. You will +not be hard to Harry now he is trying to make amends?" + +"Far from it! What right have I to hurt a broken man?" + +Flora smiled. "Harry is bruised, but not broken. Then, you see, I made +his temptation stronger. When I ought to have held him back I +half-consciously urged him on. It was for my sake he broke rules we try +to keep, and I mustn't grumble if some of his punishment falls on me." + +"After all, you did not know what you did." + +"I ought to have known; I am his wife. But I think you understand, and +there's no more to be said." + +Chisholm got up. "A nasty knock, but we can bear it. You have pluck and +one can't be beaten when one is not afraid." + +They went back silently and near the end of the wall met Wyndham going +to the landing steps. Chisholm stopped and gave him his hand. + +"Flora has told me all," he said. "Your friends will stand by you." + + + + +PART III + +REPARATION + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WYNDHAM PAYS DUTY + + +Red reflections trembled on the sea, a fringe of languid surf broke +along the beach, and as the liner turned a point, a white town that rose +in terraces, glimmered like a pearl. A yellow flag ran up to the +masthead, the throb of engines slowed, and a noisy launch steamed out +from behind the mole. Marston, leaning on the rail, watched her +approach, and his look was thoughtful when he turned to Wyndham. + +"If Don Ramon got our telegram, he's probably on board," he said. "I +hope he is, because if he doesn't come it might imply he means to make +things difficult for us. He could if he liked." + +"Larrinaga will come," Wyndham replied. "From all accounts, he's a +pretty good officer, but I don't expect he neglects his interests while +he looks after the State's. I'm counting on this." + +"I s'pose one mustn't be fastidious, but I don't want to get involved in +fresh intrigue. The job we've undertaken is awkward enough." + +"Very awkward," Wyndham agreed, with some dryness. "In a way, it looks +too big for us. To begin with, we have got to pay duties we dodged, and +satisfy the Government we cheated. Then, without exciting the latter's +curiosity, we're going to stop a rebellion and carry off its leader. +There's the worst puzzle. The fellow's cunning and powerful. Moreover, +he's my uncle." + +He stopped, for the engines clanked noisily as the screw turned astern; +then the anchor splashed and the launch swung in to the gangway. The +port doctor came on board and after him a man in tight-fitting American +clothes. His wide black belt was spun from the finest silk and Marston +noted his hat. Indians had woven the delicate material under running +water; presidents and dictators wore hats like that, and none of the few +produced were sent to Europe. It was obvious that Señor Larrinaga was +now a man of importance. + +"You sent for me," he said, with a bow. + +"The steamer goes on in the morning," Wyndham replied. "We hesitated +about landing and calling, for fear we might trespass on your time. By +sending a telegram we left you free to refuse. If you are not much +occupied, I hope you'll dine on board." + +Larrinaga said he was willing and after a time they went to the saloon. +For the most part, the passengers had landed and only three or four +occupied the tables. By-and-by the others went out and Wyndham opened a +fresh bottle of Italian wine. A steward turned on the electric light and +soft reflections fell on colored glass and polished wood. Beads of damp +sparkled on the white-and-gold ceiling, although the skylights were open +and a throbbing fan made a cool draught about the table. Footsteps +echoed along the deck and when the steamer rolled the water gurgled +about her side, but it was quiet in the saloon. By-and-by Larrinaga put +down his glass. + +"One likes to meet one's friends, but I do not know if this alone is why +you sent for me," he said. "If it is not, you see your servant!" + +Wyndham bowed. "We value your friendship and particularly your honesty +and tact. There is a matter we thought you might arrange for us." + +"If it is possible; but you must be moderate. One is watched and +criticized as one rises in rank, and it is difficult to allow one's +friends exclusive privileges. To grant too many robs the Government." + +"We want to make the Government richer," Wyndham replied. "In fact, we +propose to give you a sum that ought to have been paid, in smaller +amounts, before. You will, no doubt, be able to hand it to the proper +officer, without our being bothered by awkward formalities." + +Larrinaga looked at him with puzzled surprise. "In this country one pays +when one is forced, and the Government is generally paid last of all. +One seldom gives money for which one is not asked." + +"We do not mean to rob your Government and my partner is rich enough to +be honest," said Wyndham, smiling. "You have no customs officer at the +lagoon, and we found on studying our accounts that some duties had not +been paid." + +"Proper copies of your cargo manifests ought to have been sent the +officer at the port where your vessel's clearance papers were stamped." + +"I think the manifests were sent, but now and then we got cargo at the +last moment as we were going to sea. Besides, the officer was a friend +of ours----" + +Larrinaga filled his glass, and while he pondered Wyndham lighted a +cigarette. The matter needed careful handling. It was plain that +Larrinaga's surprise had gone and he was cautious. + +"Then you propose to give me the money you ought to have paid?" the +latter presently remarked. + +"Yes," said Wyndham. "We are traders and must get on with our business, +while the officer we knew has given up his post. If we write to his +successor, we must comply with numerous formalities, and a stranger +would insist on knowing why we did not pay at the proper time. Well, if +you take the money, I expect you can straighten things out." + +Larrinaga looked hard at him, and Wyndham smiled. He imagined the fellow +was not honester than other government officials he had met on the +Caribbean. Larrinaga knew it was in his power to keep back as much of +the sum as he liked for his private use and would, no doubt, do so. In +fact, the fellow would imagine he was offered a bribe. Since one does +not give bribes for nothing, Wyndham must hint that he had an object, +and the hint must be plausible. + +"Then you expect no particular privileges?" Larrinaga remarked. + +"Oh, no," said Wyndham. "All we want is to carry on our business without +the small officials bothering us. We are not smugglers, but we would not +like the vessel stopped if a manifest now and then is not properly made +up. One must go in and out when the tide serves, and sometimes we do not +know what goods we have on board until we check the tallies when we get +to sea. If we find we have cheated the customs, you can trust us to put +things straight. Only, we would sooner deal with somebody important; +yourself, for example." + +Larrinaga's eyes twinkled. "Very well. I think I can promise you will +not be bothered much." He paused, and resumed in a thoughtful voice: "I +expect you know your trading at the lagoon just now may lead to +trouble?" + +"All trade is troublesome, particularly when it is carried on in the +mangrove swamps," Marston interposed. "The lagoon is not much worse than +other spots. Anyhow, the profits are large and we must earn some money." + +"But Señor Wyndham stated that you are rich." + +"Rich people are sometimes greedy," Marston rejoined with a touch of +awkwardness. "I did not begin business with the object of losing my +capital." + +Wyndham thought he would leave Bob alone. Larrinaga would not suspect +him of plotting and his rather obvious embarrassment was an advantage. +Bob was the man one would expect to be embarrassed when engaged in +trying to bribe a government officer to sanction his smuggling. For all +that, Wyndham gave Larrinaga a keen glance. The latter leaned back +carelessly and rolled a cigarette. His movements were firm and quick. + +Don Ramon was clever and knew much about the bush. It was possible he +knew Wyndham had supplied the Bat with goods and he might mean to let +him do so for a time while he took his bribes, hoping to cheat both by +giving them a feeling of false security. Wyndham, however, did not think +Don Ramon knew the Bat was his relation; Peters knew, but he was not +the man to share a secret he had thought worth much. Although one must +not altogether take this for granted, Wyndham could not see another +plan. + +"Very well," said Larrinaga when he had made his cigarette. "I will take +your money and see you are not bothered." Then he looked hard at +Wyndham. "I will give you a hint: wait until your cargo comes down and +do not go far from the beach. The bush is dangerous for strangers just +now." + +"We heard something about this," Marston replied. "I don't like the +_Mestizos_, and if they're plotting trouble, hope you'll put them down." + +"My partner has a horror of the swamps," Marston remarked with a smile. +"If he was not keen to earn some money, he would not enter the lagoon. +He has not joined me long and wants his friends to think he has a talent +for business." + +Larrinaga shrugged and got up. "The English and Americans are hard to +understand. If I were rich, I would be satisfied to lounge about the +plaza and now and then gamble at the casino with my friends. I would not +gamble with the _Mestizos_ in the swamps. The chances are too much on +the side of the banker there. Well, I wish you good luck until we meet +again." + +The others went with him to the gangway and when the launch steamed off +Marston sat down and looked about. It had got dark but a half moon drew +a sparkling track across the calm sea. Anchor lights swung languidly by +the shore, and in the background the white town shone with a pale +reflection against the dusky hills. Music came off across the water with +the rumble of the surf, and the smooth swell splashed softly against +the vessel's side. Presently Marston turned and looked to the east. + +"One feels an English steamer's a bit of England. She takes civilization +and decency where she goes; but it will be different to-morrow when we +board _Columbine_. I wish our job was finished and we were going the +other way. Anyhow, it must be finished, and I don't know if I liked the +line you took. Don Ramon won't hand over all the money." + +"It's possible," Wyndham agreed. "Still I think you urged that we must +begin by paying the duties we had dodged." + +"I wanted them paid to the Government, not to a corrupt official who +thinks he's got another bribe. The duties belong to the country." + +"Oh, well. I don't know a channel by which the country would get its +dues. All are leaky; in fact, they are meant to leak. It's significant +that official salaries are small. However, I don't expect Don Ramon is +dishonester than the rest. Some of the money will go where it ought." + +"Perhaps it's not important," Marston said thoughtfully. "All the same, +you rather let the fellow think we wanted to smuggle." + +"Smuggling's profitable. It was prudent to hint we had an object for +haunting the lagoon. On the whole, I imagine a frank statement that we +were trying to be honest would not have satisfied Don Ramon; one must +make allowances for the other fellow's point of view. I hope he is +satisfied, but I doubt." + +"He is not a fool," Marston remarked. "I expect he reckons we mean to +supply the Bat with things he needs to fight the Government. If he's +not altogether corrupt, why does he let us go on?" + +"It's not very plain. Anyhow, I imagine he won't let us go on very long. +In fact, speed's important. We must finish the job before we are +stopped." + +"The rebellion must be stopped," Marston agreed. "In a way, I don't care +who rules the country; I expect nobody would rule it well. All the same, +I'm not going to see white traders murdered and the swamp-belt given up +to a cruel brute who would rule it on the African plan." + +"The Bat can't start his rebellion without supplies, which we don't mean +to give him," Wyndham said dryly. "Things would be easier if he were not +my uncle." + +Marston hesitated. "This bothers me most. D'you think Larrinaga knows?" + +"I think not. Peters knows, however, and when he finds out where we've +gone I expect we'll soon have him on our track. This means we must +reckon on three antagonists." + +"Three?" said Marston with a puzzled look. + +Wyndham nodded. "I expect we'll find Rupert Wyndham the worst. However, +I see one advantage; none of the three knows our plans and all theirs +clash. We are not up against a combine." + +"We haven't a plan," Marston objected. + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "Since that is so we must trust our luck." + +He went off and Marston smoked a cigarette and mused. He had wanted to +be open and honest, but since they could not use force, he admitted +reluctantly that they must intrigue. The job did not look as simple as +he had thought in England; it was getting obvious that Rupert Wyndham +would be their worst antagonist. The fellow was, so to speak, no longer +a white man; he was a savage with a lust for cruelty and power, but he +had a white man's intelligence. To imagine he could be persuaded to give +up his ambitious plans was ridiculous; he had no moral sense to which +one could appeal. All the same, it was unthinkable that they should let +him be captured by Larrinaga and shot. + +Marston could see no light and presently threw away his cigarette and +got up. The job was awkward, but he must not own he was beaten before he +had begun. He would go on and trust his luck. In the meantime, he had +promised to play cards with some passengers and he went to the +smoking-room. They played until the electric light went out, when +Marston found he had lost five pounds. It did not look as if his luck +was very good. + +In the morning, the steamer sailed and when she stopped again as dark +fell a boat was hoisted out. High land loomed, vague and blue, against +the sunset, drifting mist hid the beach, and not far off two masts and a +dark hull cut against the hazy background. As he went to the gangway +Marston looked back with a curious feeling of regret. The steamer stood +for much that he liked and knew, and he had enjoyed the society of her +officers. Their temperament was sane and practical. They did not seek +strange adventures; theirs was a healthful struggle against the obvious +dangers of the sea. + +In front, all was different, and Marston could not see where his path +led. Mystery, and perhaps horror, deepened the gloom through which he +must grope his way, and his face was grim as he went down the ladder. +He did not talk while the sailors rowed him to _Columbine_, and leaving +Wyndham to give the crew some orders he sat down on the gratings by the +wheel. + +The dew was falling and the deck was damp. Moisture dripped from the +masts and ropes, and it was very hot. The anchor light tossed against +the portentous gloom of the land. The yacht looked old and dirty, though +Marston knew her strength and speed; the half-naked crew made no noise +as they stole about. Their dark skin was scarcely distinguishable and +Marston thought they rather looked like ghosts than men. + +In the meantime, the steamer's boat was pulling back. Marston saw her +move across the dim reflections on the water, but the splash of oars got +faint and by and by she vanished in the dark. Then a whistle shrieked +and lights that twinkled in the distance began to move. The throb of +engines traveled far, but it presently died away and all was quiet. +Marston was launched on his adventure, and since he was practical, he +went below and studied the chart. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MARSTON GETS A WARNING + + +It was dark and the mud village was strangely quiet. Thin mist drifted +about the house Don Felix had occupied, and Wyndhams' new agent leaned +forward slackly with his arm on the table. He was a young French creole, +but his face was pinched and careworn. + +Marston, sitting in a corner, studied the man. When he last saw Lucien +Moreau he was vigorous and marked by a careless confidence. Now his +glance was furtive and sometimes he fixed it on the window. There was no +glass and the shutters had been left open because the night was hot. +Marston remembered Don Felix's disconcerting habit of looking at the +window when it was dark. The miasma from the swamps had obviously +undermined Moreau's health; but Marston doubted if this accounted for +all. + +Moreau had been talking for two or three minutes when Wyndham stopped +him. + +"I understand you want to give up your post?" he said. + +"That is so," the other agreed. "For one thing, you do not need an agent +when you are closing down your business." He paused and gave Wyndham a +sullen look. "Besides, I have had enough." + +"Your pay is good." + +"Good pay is of no use if one dies before one can spend it," Moreau +rejoined. + +"Very well," said Wyndham. "If you have had enough, we must try to let +you go. However, since your engagement runs for some time, you must stay +a month." + +Moreau agreed unwillingly and Wyndham asked: "Have you sent for the +fellow who gave us our last load?" + +"He is coming to-night. You will stay until he goes?" + +"Of course," said Wyndham, smiling. "I don't want to put too much strain +on you. It looks as if you were afraid of your customers." + +"I am afraid. One is always afraid here," Moreau admitted. "It has been +worse since you did not send the goods you promised." + +"We will send no more," said Marston firmly and they talked about +something else until they heard steps outside and a man came in. + +He was a big, dark-skinned fellow and carried a thick blanket folded +across his shoulder. His feet and the most part of his thin legs were +bare, his chest and arms were powerful, and he looked truculent. He +glanced at Marston curiously and then turned to Wyndham. + +"Have you brought payment for my goods?" he asked in uncouth Castilian. + +"We have," said Wyndham. "Señor Moreau has a list of the cargo and we +will begin to unload in the morning. Tell him what we have brought, Don +Lucien." + +Moreau did so and the other frowned. "These things are of no use to me." + +"They are standard trade goods that count as money," Wyndham replied. + +"You know what we wanted," said the other and added, meaningly: + +"In this country, it is not prudent for a stranger to disown his debts." + +"We are not cheats," Marston rejoined. "The stuff is all good, but we +are willing to pay in money." + +Wyndham stopped him and turned to the mulatto. "If you are not +satisfied, send your master. We do not dispute with servants." + +Moreau looked alarmed, as if he thought the reply would provoke the +other, but Wyndham gave him a peremptory glance, and he said a few words +in Castilian. The mulatto smiled, a rather cruel, knowing smile. + +"One needs courage to dispute with the Bat. It is not often people in +his debt want to see him." + +"All the same, we want to see him." + +"I doubt if he will come. The custom is to send a present and ask leave +to visit the Bat; but I will take your message." + +"And what about the goods?" Wyndham asked. + +"I can do nothing until I get an order." + +"Then we'll send them up the creek and put them in the store. You can +let them remain or take them, as you like. We have paid our debt." + +"I doubt," said the other grimly and with an ironical salutation went +off. + +Marston felt relieved when he had gone, and soon afterwards he and +Wyndham walked through the silent village to the creek. There were no +lights, the quietness and gloom were disturbing and Marston noted that +the negroes had not left the boat. He thought they were glad when +Wyndham told them to shove off. + +"We have made our first move. I expect you don't see the next," he said. + +"Not yet," Wyndham agreed. "It depends on our antagonist. I think he'll +understand our challenge, but it's going to be an intricate game." + +Marston lighted his pipe and tried to think about something else. He +hated intrigue and liked to see his path. It was a relief when +_Columbine_'s lights began to twinkle in the mist, and he went to the +cabin when they got on board. The little room was very hot and no air +seemed to pass the gauze beneath the skylight, but the glow of the brass +lamp was comforting. He owned that he had begun to fear the dark. + +Next day they unloaded cargo and when they stopped in the evening +Marston took his gun and went off in the dinghy. The tide was near its +lowest ebb, the uncovered mud banks gave off a sickly smell, and for a +time Marston pulled languidly down the channel. Then he saw a strip of +firmer bank, where a little path came out. A creek flowed through the +wet forest not far off, and he thought he might find his way across; the +ducks fed at twilight in the pools in the swamps. Pulling up the dinghy, +he looked at his watch. The tide had not turned, there was a moon, and +it would not be very dark. One got cramped on board the yacht and he +wanted exercise. + +The path was faint and the ground wet, but it bore his foot. Here and +there a huge cottonwood towered above the jungle, which was choked by +fallen branches and fresh growth that sprang from the tangled ruin of +the old. Knotted creepers strangled slender trees and pulled each other +down to the corruption that covered the boggy soil. Green things rotted +as they grew; parasitic plants drained the sap from drooping boughs. One +sensed the pitiless savageness of the struggle for life, in which the +beaten were devoured by the survivors before they were dead. + +Dark water that smelt horribly oozed through the jungle, the mosquitoes +had come out, and Marston pulled down the veil fastened to his double +felt hat. The forest daunted him, there was something about it that one +felt in a nightmare, but he was tired of loafing, and pushed on. If he +could reach the creek, he might get a shot. By and by, however, the path +bent back towards the lagoon, and he stopped at the edge of a channel +that crossed his path. It was not wide, but looked deep and the banks +were very soft. The creek he meant to reach was farther on. + +Marston considered. The channel marked the edge of the forest, which it +followed for some distance and then, turning, ran obliquely to the +lagoon. There was a muddy flat on the other side where he thought ducks +might feed, and he did not want to turn back. All the same, he did not +like the bridge that spanned the channel. Somebody had thrown a small +trunk across and stayed it, as a suspension-bridge is stayed, by +creepers partly pulled down from neighboring trees. The log looked +rotten and the rounded top was wet with slime. The water obviously +covered it when the tide was full. Marston, however, was sure footed and +steadying himself by the bent creepers, went cautiously across. + +When he reached the flat the sand and mud were soft and his step got +labored, but the light was going, he heard ducks, and thought he might +get near them in the gloom. They flew off, and he followed some curlews +that led him on for a time and then vanished with a mournful cry. +Marston stopped and looked about. He had gone far enough, the tide had +turned, and it was getting dark. Dark came quickly at the lagoon. + +Across the little channel, mangroves rose from sloppy mud. Their roots +were five or six feet high, and mudfish splashed in the holes beneath. +Crabs crawled about the roots, for he heard their claws scratch on the +smooth bark. He knew the noise; one heard it on board the schooner when +the tide was low, and Marston hated the hideous mangrove-crabs that +swarmed about the lagoon. They were savage and not afraid. If one sat on +the sand, they crawled over one's body and their bite was sharp. A +curlew's wild cry pierced the gloom and then all was quiet. + +Marston frowned. Now the light was going, the forest looked sinister. +Perhaps he was imaginative, but his half-conscious shrinking had some +grounds. In the tropics the woods were hostile and sheltered man's +enemies, of which the insect tribes were perhaps the worst. They +attacked in hosts, with poisoned jaws. Then a pale glimmer caught +Marston's wandering glance. The tide was creeping across the mud. + +He went back and stopped at the bridge. Dark had fallen, but the moon +was above the jungle and its light touched the channel. The log ran +across like a thin black bar, a few feet above the slime. It looked +frailer than when he had come. He braced himself, and balancing +carefully, went a yard or two along the trunk. Then he heard a crack and +seized the creeper as the log dropped under his feet. He held fast, +although the strain on his arm was sharp. There was a splash, the +creeper broke, and swinging back with one end, he dropped in the mud. It +rose to his knee and for a minute or two he splashed and struggled +furiously. Somehow he got out and floundered back to the bank he had +left. He was breathless and rather surprised to find he had not dropped +the gun, but the arm by which he had hung was horribly sore. + +Then it dawned on him that he was on the wrong side of the channel and +could not get across. When he fell into the mud he was not far from the +bank, but he had gone deep and it was unthinkable that he should venture +farther out. The half-liquid mire would suck him down. Still the tide +was rising and he could not stop on the flat. After a few moments, +another thing struck him; when he crossed, the bridge, although narrow +and slippery, was firm, but now it had given way as soon as it bore his +weight. The log had slipped down, or broken, suddenly. He wondered +whether it had been meant to break. A few strokes with the cutlass the +half-breeds carried would be enough, and he could not have struggled out +had he dropped where the mud was deep. + +Marston clenched his fist and raged with helpless fury. He was persuaded +somebody, with devilish cunning, had set the trap for him. When the tide +rose the dinghy would drift up the lagoon and in the morning the yacht's +crew would find her stuck among the mangrove roots. It would look as if +he had landed on a mud bank and had stopped too long. Then, with an +effort, Marston pulled himself together. He must search for a place +where the bottom was not so soft. + +He ran across the flat, heading for the lagoon and hoping he might find +a belt of firm sand that would enable him to wade across, but there was +none, and by and by he came to the main channel. It was wider and he saw +clumps of weed and flakes of foam drift past. The tide was rising and +would presently cover the flat. He went back as near as he could get to +the jungle, and sitting down with the gun across his knees, took off his +shoes. He had sometimes gone wild-fowling on the English coast and knew +one can pull one's naked foot out of mud where one's boot would stick. +The gun might be an embarrassment, but he meant to keep it to the last, +because the fellow who had cut the bridge might be lurking about. + +Treading very cautiously, Marston tried the bank again, but began to +sink and had some trouble to regain the flat. It was obvious that he +could not cross, and he doubted if he would be much better off if he +reached the mangroves some distance from the path. The tide flowed back +among them, their trunks were slender, and they were haunted by +poisonous insects and the horrible crabs. If the crabs attacked him when +the tide rose and he was forced to cling to the trees, he could not beat +them off. All the same, he could not swim to the schooner. + +For a time he wandered up and down the flat. Although he saw no way of +escape, he could not keep still. In the end, he must swim, but he meant +to wait until the tide drove him off the flat. There was not much use in +swimming when one could not find a spot to land. The rising water +presently forced him back to the small channel, where he stopped. The +moon had got bright and although, for the most part, the mangroves on +the other side rose like a dark wall, the silver beams touched their +branches here and there. Marston searched them keenly, because he had a +strange feeling that somebody was about. Perhaps the fellow who had cut +the bridge had stopped to watch him drown. + +He thought he heard a soft rustle, leaves moved, and throwing the gun to +his shoulder, he pulled the trigger. The barrel jerked, the sharp report +rolled across the woods, and leaves and twigs came down; but that was +all, and Marston, swinging the gun, pulled the other trigger. Then as +the echoes died away he thought he heard a distant shout and a regular +throbbing noise. He paused as he pushed in fresh cartridges, and +listened hard. The noise was like the splash of oars and got louder. It +was the splash of oars, and a shout came across the water again. Marston +fired another shot and then waited, trembling with the reaction. Wyndham +was coming for him on board the gig and the crew were pulling hard. They +would reach him before the tide covered the flat. + +When the sand was all but covered, the boat grounded close by and +Marston got on board. Wyndham gave him a nod and Marston noted that he +was hot and breathless. A heavy oar he had thrown down lay in the +sculling notch. + +"The boys went out to make fast a warp and saw the dinghy drifting up," +Wyndham remarked. "We reckoned we had better start." + +"Thanks!" said Marston, who imagined his comrade did not want to talk +just then. "Have you got a cigarette?" + +They shoved off and when they reached _Columbine_ went to the cabin. +Marston mixed a cocktail. + +"There's enough for two," he said. "I expect you sculled pretty hard." + +"I did," Wyndham admitted. "The boys shoved her along handsomely; looks +as if they liked you, but the tide was rising fast. Well? What were you +shooting at?" + +"I imagined it was at the man who sent the dinghy adrift." + +"Ah," said Wyndham, "I wondered--didn't think you'd carelessly stop too +long. In fact, I was pretty anxious until I heard the gun. But do you +reckon somebody did push off the dinghy?" + +Marston stated his grounds for believing this, and Wyndham, after +pondering for a few moments, looked hard at him. + +"Well, I suppose you see what it implies?" + +"I'm in the way. Somebody meant to get rid of me." + +"Yes; but that's not all," said Wyndham, with a dry smile. "It looks as +if I'm not thought dangerous; the man we're up against is not persuaded +my reform's sincere. On the whole, this may be an advantage. To puzzle +your antagonist is good strategy." + +He drained his glass and lighted his pipe. "In the meantime, we'll let +it go. What about the new running gear? Have we enough manilla rope for +the peak-halyards?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +WYNDHAM TRIES PERSUASION + + +The moon had not risen and thick mist drifted past the schooner before +the hot land-breeze. Marston was talking to Wyndham in the cabin, but +stopped when something bumped against the vessel's side. + +"What's that?" he asked sharply. + +"A canoe, I think," said Wyndham, and both listened. + +Marston wanted to run up on deck, but did not. Since his adventure on +the flat had rather shaken his nerve, he meant to use some control. For +a few moments they heard nothing and then the sliding hatch rattled, as +if somebody pulled it back. Marston thought it significant that none of +the crew had challenged the stranger. The hatch opened and the old +mulatto came down. He did not squat on the deck, as he had done before, +but sat, like a white man, on the side locker. + +"Give me a drink; you know my taste," he said, and Marston noticed that +he spoke good English. + +Wyndham gave him some old brandy and he drank with leisurely enjoyment. +Although he wore ragged and dirty cotton and his legs were bare, it was +obvious that Rupert Wyndham had now done with pretense. + +"I'm your guest," he said to Wyndham. "Perhaps it's not good manners, +but I'd sooner Mr. Marston left us alone." + +"Bob's my partner; I think we'll let him stay," Wyndham replied. "All +that interests me interests him." + +Rupert shrugged. "It looks as if you had given him your confidence." + +"He knows who you are." + +"Oh, well!" said Rupert. "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve the +form of the invitation you gave my servant." + +"Something like _lè Majesté_?" Wyndham suggested. + +"Something like that," said Rupert with a touch of dryness. "After all, +I'm king _de facto_ in the bush." + +"Then I think you ought to be content," Wyndham rejoined. "The republic +is forced to challenge a king _de jure_." + +Rupert looked at him with half-closed, bloodshot eyes, and Marston +thought his face was now like a negro's. After all, his civilized talk +and manners were a mask; the fellow was a negro underneath. + +"We'll talk about this again," he said in a careless voice. "You seem to +have got scrupulous since you went home. Is it a prudish girl's +influence or your partner's?" + +"My wife's, for the most part. If you take it for granted that I agree, +it will clear the ground." + +"Ah,"--said Rupert, frowning, "it looks as if I were foolish when I +helped you to marry. Perhaps I forgot--it's long since I studied things +from the white man's point of view and women don't count in the bush. +They are toys and don't make rules for their lovers." + +"Unless human nature's different in the jungle, I expect some do so," +Marston remarked. + +"Their end is generally sudden," said Rupert, with grim humor. Then he +turned to Wyndham. "I promised to make you rich. Have I cheated you?" + +"No. In a sense, you have kept your promise; but, for all that, I was +cheated. My reward vanished when I got it." + +Rupert gave him a mocking smile. "Sometimes it happens so, but this is +your affair and we will not philosophize. You made a bargain and got the +goods, for which you must pay." + +"I'm willing to pay. We have brought a load of stuff that has a standard +value in the bush. If this won't satisfy you, I've paid a sum to your +account at my bank. You can draw it when you like." + +"Neither plan will do. I don't want trade rubbish and money is not much +use. I need the goods I expected you to bring. If you refuse to supply +me, you miss a chance you will not get again." + +"I'm not sure that to seize the chance would be a very sound +speculation," Wyndham rejoined in a thoughtful voice. + +Marston looked hard at him. Harry's manner almost hinted that he was +hesitating, but this was unthinkable. Rupert, however, smiled. + +"You are a tactful fellow! You want me to state things plainly in order +to persuade you? Well, I will be frank, and if I can banish your +scruples, so much the better. We are relations and ought not to be +enemies----" + +Rupert paused for a moment or two and then went on: "I sent you rare +goods--that sell for high prices in England, but so far I have not sent +you the best. There are plants in the swamps for which doctors and +chemists would give very much. A few of my people know where they can be +found, but I am perhaps the only man who knows how the essences can be +distilled. After all, I am not a magician for nothing." + +"There is not much modern chemists do not know," Marston interposed. + +"Your manufacturing chemists have not got the plants," said Rupert +dryly. "The finished product is scarce and valuable; I have the +knowledge that can bring the raw material to the distilling retorts. +Well, if I use this knowledge, I make my charge, and I have offered my +nephew a generous share." + +"On some conditions, to which I can't agree," Wyndham rejoined. "Your +secret is worth money, but you can use it in one of two ways. You mean +to smuggle the stuff into England in small quantities at a monopoly +price; I think the other line would pay you better. Ship all you can, +develop the trade openly, and although the price will drop and you may +have rivals, the sums paid will be large and you will be first on the +ground." + +Rupert gave him an ironical smile. "You are rather obvious, Harry. You +want me to come out of my seclusion and engage in conventional trade. I +see drawbacks. In six months, English, American, and German buyers would +overrun the country, touting for business. The country's mine and my +people will not let white men get control. We are satisfied with the +old rules and don't want tram-roads, clearings, and factories. In fact, +we don't mean to be exploited for the advantage of Larrinaga's greedy +politicians, who'd sell the foreigners trading privileges for bribes." + +He stopped and drained his glass, and there was silence for a minute or +two. Wyndham understood his uncle and rather sympathized. Independence +and liberty to follow one's bent were worth much; one would not change +them carelessly for the commercialism that gave a man no choice but to +work by rule or starve. Marston, however, was puzzled and presently +remarked: + +"Clearings would let in some light, which the country needs." + +"The light your industrial civilization gives is dim. I and the others +would sooner have the dark. You hate the shadowy world because you do +not know it; I have lived in it long." + +"How have you lived?" Marston asked. "You are a white man and it's plain +you have unusual gifts. Yet you're satisfied to skulk about the swamps +in dirt and rags, cheating superstitious brutes by conjuring tricks! The +thing's unthinkable." + +Rupert looked at him with the smile Marston hated. It was malevolent and +mocked his philosophy. + +"Some of the tricks are clever; they have puzzled you. We will not argue +whether all are tricks or not. Anyhow, the clever impostor is a common +type. Men who claim magic power direct your company-floating and +manipulate your politics; but perhaps it's among primitive people the +fakir has most influence. In the bush, I'm high-priest, and something of +a prophet." + +"You claim to be king," said Wyndham, very dryly. "Prophecy's not +difficult when you rather trust to knowledge your disciples haven't got +than inspiration. No doubt, you make lucky shots, but royalty's another +job. An unacknowledged king must fight for his crown. I want you to +think if you hadn't better give it up." + +Marston, looking from one to the other, felt the crisis had come. Both +were calm, but he thought Harry was highly strung. Their glances were +strangely keen; they looked like fencers about to engage. Marston +reflected that Rupert did not know Harry's new plans; nor did he know +Peters meant to meddle. + +"Well," said Rupert, "suppose I agree? What have you to offer?" + +"Much, I think. Your return to civilized life and the place where you +properly belong. However, we'll be practical. You can resume the +partnership in Wyndhams' that is really yours. I'll give you any just +share to which Bob will consent, and we'll use your knowledge as far as +we can do so lawfully. Our business could be extended and the house +ought to prosper in our joint control." + +Rupert laughed. "You offer money! In England, it would buy no power I +have not got, and the things I like I have. We'll let this go. You are +my nephew and perhaps you feel you must be generous; but don't you think +you're rash? Have you forgotten the years I've lived in the dark? Habits +stick. It would be embarrassing if your relation used the manners of a +savage, and I have idiosyncrasies that would give fastidious people a +nasty jolt. Then, since you have married, what about your wife? Women +are rather strict about conventional niceties." + +"My wife agrees," Wyndham replied, incautiously. + +"To your plans for my reform? Then, you have some plans. You are, so to +speak, missionaries. Well, I imagine Marston is fitter for the job. His +confidence can't be shaken, and he doesn't bother about the other +fellow's point of view. The successful missionary is a fanatic." + +"Give the thing up," said Marston, with some sternness. "You're white, +you're English! Come out of the mud!" + +Rupert shrugged and turned to Wyndham. "Your partner's staunch, but does +not use much tact. Can you see me ordering smart young clerks, talking +at an old men's club, and amusing your wife's friends in a conventional +drawing-room? If so, your imagination's vivid. I can't see myself." He +laughed, a harsh laugh. "In the bush I rule with power that nobody +challenges." + +Wyndham made a sign of resignation, and Marston owned defeat. After all, +he had not expected to persuade the Bat. Then the latter resumed: + +"You refuse to supply the goods I need?" + +"Yes." + +"Then why do you stay and keep your agent at the village?" + +"Moreau will not stay long," said Wyndham, and Marston, seeing where +Rupert's question led, wondered how Harry would account for their +haunting the lagoon. + +"We came to trade," Wyndham went on. "Although I now see it won't pay +to keep an agent, we must clear off our stock of goods." + +"You can't do so without my leave." + +"I doubt this," said Wyndham. "Anyhow, we're going to try. It's obvious +you have some power, but a firm rule generally provokes opposition and +we may do some business with the dissatisfied." + +Rupert looked hard at him. "You may find the experiment dangerous. On +the whole, my servants are staunch and know the advantage of keeping out +foreigners. Well, this is your affair, and since it's plain we can't +agree, I won't stay." + +He got up and while Marston studied him with a touch of horror he seemed +to change, as if he shook off the superficial civilization he had worn. +His lips got thick and stuck out; they looked strangely red and sensual. +His eyes got dull and the colored veins were plainer, and he rubbed one +bare foot with the other's flexible toes. Marston felt he had reverted +to the old mulatto. + +"You go dash me them bottle?" he said with a grin. + +They let him pick up the bottle of brandy, he climbed the ladder, and +the hatch slid back. There was no noise on deck and they did not hear a +paddle splash, but they knew he had gone. Marston drained his glass and +looked at Wyndham, whose face was rather white. He saw Harry had got a +jar, and said nothing. + +After a few moments Wyndham broke out: "At the last, he looked a +half-breed. A trick of pushing out his lips and stretching his nostrils, +perhaps; but one feels he is a half-breed. I think he will never really +be a white man again. He gave no hint of regret for all that he has +lost; it was rather horrible to see he was content." + +"He is content, he has done with civilization," said Marston quietly. +"We must remember this." + +Wyndham nodded. "From now, we have not to deal with Rupert Wyndham, but +with the Bat. To some extent, it makes the job easier. All the same, we +can't give him up to Larrinaga. It's unlucky we could not have kept him +on board." + +"That was impossible. Your asking him to come implied that he was safe. +Besides, we were forced to try persuasion first. Well, we have tried. +What's the next plan?" + +"I have none. We must wait." + +"Do you think he was satisfied with the grounds we gave for stopping? I +mean, do you imagine he believes we merely want to trade?" + +"I don't know," said Wyndham moodily. "Perhaps I made a lucky shot when +I talked about our trading with the opposition. I imagine it touched +him; looks as if there was an opposition. Then I don't suppose he knows +Peters is on our track and his. Well, in the meantime we must use +patience and trust our luck." + +He went up on deck and Marston went to bed. For a time he heard +Wyndham's restless tread on the planks above him, and then he went to +sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +WYNDHAM FINDS A CLEW + + +A few days after Rupert's visit to the schooner, a quantity of cargo +arrived. The goods were not valuable, but the owners were satisfied with +the payment Wyndham told his agent to offer and Marston was surprised +they had got a load at all. + +"It's strange," said Wyndham thoughtfully when they lounged under the +awning while the negroes unloaded the canoes. "Of course, the Bat may +have allowed the stuff to come down, for reasons that are not very +plain. On the other hand, it's possible some of the half-breeds don't +yet own his rule. Since this might be important, I'd rather like to +know, but don't see much chance of our finding out." + +Marston noted that Harry called Rupert the Bat, but he agreed. Rupert +was no longer a white man. All the same he was Harry's relation. + +"I imagine our chance of finding out anything useful here is very +small," he rejoined. + +"Then suppose we take the cargo across for transshipment and see if we +can pick up a clew at the other end?" Wyndham suggested. "If we knew +something about Larrinaga's plans, it might help." + +Although the schooner was not half-loaded, Marston agreed. Any excuse +was good that took him away from the lagoon, and at noon next day +_Columbine_ went to sea. The voyage to the white town was short and on +the evening of their arrival Marston lounged contentedly on the arcade +in front of his hotel. A full moon shone above the flat roofs, the hotel +was lighted, and the glow from the windows touched the pavement beyond +the pillars. Citizens, enjoying the cool of the evening, crowded the +streets, and sometimes stopped at the small tables to drink a glass of +wine. On the opposite side of the street, the straight-fronted houses +threw a dark shadow. The band of the _cazadores_ regiment played on the +plaza. + +Wyndham was talking to a gentleman from whom his agent bought goods. Don +Luis came to town to gamble at the casino, and Marston had met him +before. + +"You must come and see my _finca_," he said. "There are ducks on the +marsh and you English are fond of sport." + +Marston said he would be pleased to go if they stopped long enough; and +then letting Wyndham carry on the talk, watched the passers-by. After a +few minutes, a big muscular negro entered the belt of light, and Marston +glanced at him with some surprise. + +"There's Pepe!" he exclaimed. + +He doubted if the negro heard him through the clink of glasses and hum +of talk, but it looked as if he saw his quick movement, for he turned +his head and went behind a group at a table. + +"Somebody like him," said Wyndham carelessly, and when Marston looked +back across the street the negro had vanished. + +People moved about and Marston imagined he had retired into the gloom, +where one could not distinguish him from the others. Pepe was the pilot +at the lagoon, a good-humored fellow whom they had generally given a +small present besides his pay. As a rule, he did not wear much clothes +on board, but he was now rather neatly dressed in white cotton and his +hat was good. On the Caribbean coast, men spend large sums on their +hats. It looked as if Pepe was getting rich, but Marston could not +imagine why he did not want to be seen. He was going to talk about this +when he caught Wyndham's eye and he lighted a cigarette. + +"My partner is a good shot," Wyndham said to their companion. "We will +be occupied for two or three days, but perhaps after that----" + +Don Luis fixed a day for their visit, and when he went off Marston +turned to Wyndham. + +"It was Pepe," he declared. + +"Yes; I saw him. I think he was with the officer of the port-guard." + +"But what is he doing here? And why did he step back when I turned to +you?" + +"I don't know," said Wyndham. "The thing's interesting." + +Marston agreed, but he could suggest no explanation and they talked +about Don Luis. In the morning, when the narrow streets got hot, they +went to the _marina_ where the sea breeze blew among the pepper-trees +and palms. After lounging for a time on a shady bench, Wyndham indicated +some carpenters at work behind the mole. + +"It's too early to meet our agent. Let's see what those fellows are +doing," he proposed. + +They crossed a belt of shingle and found the carpenters mending a big +open boat. Two or three other boats were drawn up close by and planks +lay about. When Marston stopped, a man who had been sitting in the +shade got up and turned to him with a careless smile. It was Pepe, the +negro pilot. + +"Hallo!" said Marston. "Have you given up your job?" + +"Not for long. One likes a change," the other replied. + +In the meantime, Wyndham examined the boats. He knew the type, which was +used for taking off cargo to vessels that did not come into the harbor. +For their length, they carried a big load and were generally propelled +by four men who pulled the heavy oars double-banked. Their flat bottom +adapted them for use in shallow water. + +"Are you going to buy the _candrays_?" Wyndham asked. + +Pepe grinned. "One does not get rich by fishing and piloting. It is cool +here in the shade and I have not much to do." + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham, "No doubt you have seen the schooner. I expect +we'll sail in about a week and we can give you a passage, if you are +going back." + +Pepe said he did not mean to return yet, and Marston and Wyndham went +away. + +"I wonder what he is doing about the boats, although I don't know if it +matters," Marston remarked. + +"He was rather obviously loafing." + +"I'd have expected to find him loafing about a second-class wine shop." + +"With a hat like his and new yellow boots?" said Wyndham dryly. + +"They may have cost him all he's got. These fellows are vain. All the +same, there's something strange about his being here and trying to pass +without our seeing him last night. He's frank enough this morning." + +"He may have been making the best of it because he could not steal off +before we came up." + +"It's possible, although I don't see why he should want to dodge us," +Marston replied, and added thoughtfully: "Since he's allowed to pilot +vessels at the lagoon, I expect he's the Bat's man." + +"Looks like that," said Wyndham. "I imagine he has been in Africa. +Although his Castilian is not remarkably bad, the English he uses on +board has the true West-coast twang. You might hear the words at +Kingston, but the accent's good _Sar Leone_. However, if he's a friend +of the Bat's, why was he going about with one of the President's +port-guard?" + +"Perhaps he met him at a wine-shop; they're both sailors," Marston +suggested. "I thought you rather went out of your way to tell him we +would sail in a week." + +"An example of instinctive caution. It's possible we may sail before. In +the meantime, we won't bother about the thing." + +They went to the agent's office, and after transshipping their cargo set +out one morning for Don Luis' _finca_. The road was bad, their horses +were poor, and when they reached the big whitewashed, mud house their +host persuaded them to stop the night. Dinner was served at four o'clock +and soon afterwards Don Luis gave them fresh horses and they started for +the marsh. It got dark while they floundered through the mud and reeds, +but they shot some ducks as the light was going and stayed until the +mosquitoes drove them off. + +Going back, they took a road that crossed a steep hillside. Trees in +dark masses rolled down the slope and thin hot mist drifted about the +trunks. The moon, however, was full, and where there was an opening in +the wet leaves bright beams pierced the gloom and made pools of silver +light on the ground. A cloud of mosquitoes followed them and Marston's +horse was fresh. He was not used to the big stirrups and wide Spanish +saddle, and now and then found it hard to hold the animal. By and by, a +regular throbbing noise came up the hill and he turned to Don Luis. + +"It sounds like soldiers marching," he said. + +Don Luis pulled up. "It is soldiers. A battalion of _cazadores_ occupies +the old mission. If we could go another way, it would be better, but +there is no road up the hill." + +The road was bad and narrow. There would not be much room for the +soldiers to pass, and Marston imagined this accounted for Don Luis' +wanting to turn off. + +"They keep the troops a long way from the town," he said. + +"The old mission makes a good barracks," Don Luis replied. "Besides, +this is the President's own battalion. They are very loyal while their +pay is regular, and made disturbances in the town, wrecking the wine +shops where there was revolutionary talk." + +They rode on and when the tramp of feet got louder, Marston asked: "Do +the _cazadores_ often drill in the dark?" + +"Once they scarcely drilled at all," said Don Luis, laughing. "However, +since Ramon Larrinaga became the President's friend they drill them +much, with German officers in command. Recently the drilling has got +harder and one wonders why this is and whether it means something. All +the same, I am a supporter of the President's and if he is satisfied--" + +The measured tramp was now very close, and the creak of leather and +rattle of straps and slings came out of the gloom. Marston thought he +could hear the labored breath of men toiling up hill. Then a hoarse +challenge rang out and his horse plunged across the road. + +"Hold him!" said Wyndham sharply, and two or three men with glittering +bayonets came into the moonlight that shone between the trees. + +"A picket, or advance guard!" Wyndham resumed. "Get down, Bob. You +mustn't let the brute go!" + +Marston's horse reared and tried to turn from the shining steel, but he +got his foot out of the awkward stirrup and swung himself from the +saddle. The others dismounted and the soldiers led them off the road and +then stood on guard. + +"I do not know if we are arrested," Don Luis remarked with a shrug. "One +must use patience; but I am not without some influence and expect +apologies when the officers arrive." + +When he had quieted his horse Marston lighted a cigarette and leaned +against a tree. For a few yards the moonlight shone upon the road and +when the first fours of the leading platoon crossed the illuminated belt +he was surprised. The _cazadores_ were short, dark-skinned men. Their +sloped rifles wavered at different angles, and their march was +slouching, but they carried complete field equipment; pouches, +mess-tins, tools and bandoliers. It was the first time he had seen the +republican soldiers in regular marching order. + +"Your government has been extravagant," he said to Don Luis. + +Don Luis spread out his hands. "It is these Germans! Somebody will have +to pay and the country is poor. Perhaps it is well to pay the soldiers, +but one need not spend money on equipment until there is risk of war." + +"Then there is no risk of war just now?" Wyndham interposed. + +"I know of none. I cannot see why we should quarrel with our neighbors +and although the negroes are turbulent in the back country, one leaves +them alone. The Germans have led us into extravagance, señor. All must +be efficient and worked on a plan! They do not understand us. We are not +machines like them!" + +He stopped, for one of the guards roughly ordered the party farther back +into the wood. From their new position they could not see much. Sloped +rifles tossed and wavered across the opening in the trees; steel bands +and swivels shone in the moon, and one distinguished shadowy figures +going by. After a time the measured tramp got fainter and rolled up the +hill, and the beat of horses' feet came out of the gloom. The soldier +who had driven the party back went to the road and his voice reached the +others. Then he ordered them to advance and they saw two or three +mounted officers in the moonlight. One sat stiff and motionless and +asked a few sharp questions in uncouth Castilian, after which he turned +to a companion. + +"They say they are sportsmen and the fellow in the cloak claims to be +well known. The others look like foreigners. I will leave you to talk to +them, Don Maccario." + +"Ah," said Don Luis, "now the thing resolves itself!" + +The other officer pushed his horse forward, and then laughed. "It is +you, my friend! Well, perhaps we ought to make our apologies, but we are +being trained on the German model and you are not as discreet as usual." + +"Is one forbidden to look at the soldiers for whom, one must pay?" Don +Luis asked. + +"One is not encouraged, when they marched at night," the other rejoined +dryly. + +"I and my friends come back from shooting and there is no other road. +What must we do? It is well known that I am a staunch supporter of the +President's and a friend of Don Ramon's. However, you can see the ducks +and our guns." + +"It is not necessary. Do you know Don Ramon is at the mission? I think +he means to breakfast with you to-morrow. But who are your friends?" + +Don Luis presented Wyndham and Marston, and after greeting them politely +the officer let the party go. They rode on down the hill and Don Luis +grumbled. + +"I am staunchly for the Government; the thing was ridiculous. I do not +see why they hide our soldiers. It is some German plan. We will talk +about it to Don Ramon if he comes in the morning." + +When they reached the _finca_ and Wyndham and Marston were alone for a +few minutes the former said, "Perhaps it's lucky we came here, because I +think I have found a clew. I expect you noted they tried to keep the +drilling and equipping of the President's battalion a secret." + +"It looks like that," said Marston. "Still I don't see what it implies." + +"For one thing, it implies they want a small, highly-efficient, striking +force. The force is obviously to be used. These fellows don't study +efficiency for its own sake." + +"But why don't they want people to know?" + +"I think that's rather plain. There's an advantage in striking before +your antagonist is ready, and the citizens of this country have some +talent for political intrigue; plot and counter plot are always going +on. I don't imagine the President altogether trusts his friends." + +"Ah," said Marston, "I begin to see----" + +He stopped, and when Don Luis came up talked about the shooting. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +DON LUIS' BREAKFAST PARTY + + +One got up early at the Finca Buenavista, and when they had been given +some black coffee and a small hard roll, Wyndham and Marston went to a +bench in the patio. The house was built in a hollow square and its +occupants used the patio when the rooms were hot. One wall was pierced +by arches opening to the kitchen and stable; outside stairs, balconies, +and windows with green shutters, broke the straight front of the others. +In places, purple masses of Bougainvillea glowed against the ochre wash, +and beyond the flat roof a steep hill, darkly green with foliage, rolled +up against a background of distant mountains. In the middle of the +square a pepper tree stretched its thin branches across a marble +fountain, in which shining water splashed. The _finca_ dated back to +days when the country prospered under Spanish rule. + +Wyndham lighted his pipe and looked thoughtful when he began to smoke. + +"If Larrinaga is curious about us, he will come to breakfast," he said. +"Since I think we can take this for granted, we had better choose our +line." + +"Why do you think he is curious?" Marston asked. + +"To begin with, I doubt if he's persuaded our object for stopping at the +lagoon is to carry on an ordinary, lawful trade. We have some grounds +for imagining Peters has not told him the Bat is my relation; but I +expect he knows we could not get much cargo without the Bat's consent. +Then it's possible he has heard about our examining the boats, and now +we are found watching the secret maneuvers of his troops. It's pretty +obvious whom they are to be used against." + +Marston nodded. "I've been pondering this. They could put three or four +platoons of _cazadores_ on board the old gunboat and land them where +they are wanted in the cargo lighters. In fact, if it was fine weather, +the Government's tug could tow them all the way. That's why Larrinaga +brought the pilot over. The question is: what ought we to do about it? +Do you mean to warn the Bat?" + +"Not yet," said Wyndham, thoughtfully. "If he got warning soon enough, +he would probably be able to make a good fight. Although I don't imagine +he could win, a number of the soldiers would be killed. We don't want +this." + +Marston agreed. Their business was not to take a side. Indeed, it was +unthinkable that they should help either party. All the same, he was +puzzled, because since they could not allow the Bat to be captured and +shot, something must be done. After a moment or two, Wyndham resumed: + +"I have a half-formed plan. We must find out where the soldiers will +land and when they'll start. Then we must get across before them and +take the Bat the news while they are marching through the bush. It will +not matter if his spies bring him word a few hours sooner. This will +bear out our tale; but our arrival must be carefully timed." + +"Yes," said Marston and pondered. + +Harry's plan was vague, but on the whole it was good. The Bat must be +taken by surprise, without time being given him to organize a defense. +Then he might be forced to surrender, not to the soldiers but to his +relation, and they must try to smuggle him on board the yacht. The +scheme, however, needed to be carefully worked out. + +"You are reckoning on his not being ready to fight," he said. + +Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "That is so. You ought to see why he +is not ready, because, to some extent, you are accountable. Negroes and +half-breeds, armed with cutlasses and a few old guns, can't stand up +against well-drilled troops. The Bat has been embarrassed by not getting +the material he expected us to bring." + +"Of course," said Marston awkwardly. "Well, how are we to find out when +the troops will sail?" + +"I don't know. So far, we have been lucky; we must trust our luck +again." + +"Suppose all goes as you expect, and the Bat sees a struggle would be +useless and gives himself up to us? What are we going to do with him?" + +"That's perhaps the worst puzzle," said Wyndham dryly. "We must try to +solve it when it comes. It's possible, however, the Bat may solve it for +us." + +Marston smoked for a time, glancing sympathetically at Wyndham, who +knitted his brows. Then Bob said, "To begin with, we have got to bluff +Larrinaga and he is not a fool. How do you mean to satisfy him?" + +"On the whole, I think I'll leave the job to you," Wyndham replied and +his eyes twinkled when he saw Marston's surprise. "Don Ramon's a good +judge of character and would think a little embarrassment on your part +rather natural. You're not the stuff romantic conspirators are made of, +and our being partners will imply much. However, there's a drawback; he +mustn't think I have cheated and am using you." + +"Then, I'm to look simple and trustful, but not altogether a fool. You +give me a hard part. I doubt if I can play it," Marston grumbled. + +"You mustn't try to play a part," said Wyndham firmly. "Be frank where +you can, but don't talk too much. There's a thing may help us; Don Ramon +will be careful not to hint our seeing the boats and the soldiers in +field equipment is important." + +"Oh, well," said Marston gloomily, "I'll be glad when breakfast's over." + +About eleven o'clock two servants began to spread a table under the +pepper tree, where the shadow of a projecting balcony stretched across +the broken flags. Soon afterwards, Don Luis, looking hot and slightly +disturbed, entered the patio with Larrinaga and a thin, dark-faced +gentleman who wore plain white clothes. Marston, however, noted that his +hat and silk belt were remarkably good, and thought he had somewhere +seen his portrait, only the man had then worn a handsome uniform. Bob +got up as the strangers advanced and Wyndham, taking off his hat, gave +him a quick glance. Marston felt he was warned to brace himself. + +"My poor house is honored to-day," Don Luis remarked. "Our illustrious +President will breakfast with us." + +The President smiled urbanely and Don Luis presented his guests. Wyndham +saw and frankly returned Larrinaga's twinkle, but he felt some strain +and hoped Bob would take the proper line. If, as he thought, he +understood Don Ramon, the latter had, perhaps, hinted they would sooner +breakfast unceremoniously in the patio; Wyndham afterwards found this +supposition correct. The stage was, so to speak, properly set. The light +was strong and a row of windows commanded the table. Nothing indicated +plot or secrecy. The party would meet without reserve and engage in +careless talk. + +"I did not know his Excellency was at the mission, or I might have +ventured to offer him hospitality," Don Luis remarked when the President +was served. + +"Nobody knows," said the latter, smiling. "Now and then I neglect my +duties and steal away from town. I can trust my officers, when they do +not know I have gone. A President has some cares and perhaps deserves a +holiday. Besides, I like to watch my soldiers' drill." + +Wyndham imagined the President had thought it prudent to account for his +visit to the mission, and admitted that the statement was plausible. He +said that so far as he could judge, the _cazadores_ were excellently +drilled. + +"I understand it was dark when you saw them," the President replied. +"However, if soldiers interest you and I am not recalled to town, you +and Señor Marston must come and see them at the morning parade." + +"I hope we did not break your rules last night," said Marston. "Perhaps +I ought to have pulled up sooner, but my horse was fresh and got out of +control. Then I was not used to the saddle and stirrups. I do not ride +much." + +"Señor Marston is a sailor, what the English call a yachts-man," +Larrinaga interposed. "For him, sport means the sea. His taste is +strange, but some of his countrymen are like that. If I were rich, I +would sooner amuse myself at the casino." + +"Then our friend is rich?" the President remarked. "But I +remember--these gentlemen paid some duties our officers neglected to +collect. It is a thing that does not often happen in this country. Since +Señor Marston is both rich and honest, he has my felicitations. However, +we owe him and Don Luis some apologies." He turned to the others. "I +hope you were not treated roughly, but our new officers are very strict +and use all military caution." + +Wyndham laughed. "We make no complaint. But surely even a German officer +could not imagine three or four men with shot-guns meant to attack a +battalion of soldiers as brave and disciplined as yours? We would much +like to see them in the daylight." + +"If I am allowed to stop at the mission, we will fix a time," the +President said graciously. + +"Is not the mission an awkward spot for a barracks?" Wyndham asked. "It +is a long way from the town and the road is bad." + +"It is lonely and quiet. Ours is a small country and we have jealous +neighbors. One must take precautions, but, since spies are numerous, it +is not prudent to display our readiness to fight. When one wants peace, +one does not go about with a fine new pistol in one's belt." + +Wyndham agreed. The President's explanation was plausible and his +humorous frankness calculated to banish doubt, but Wyndham was not +deceived. Moreover, he thought Larrinaga was watching him. Larrinaga's +object for bringing the President was plain; he wanted his master to +see the men he had allowed to trade at a spot where the Bat would try to +get supplies. Wyndham felt that he and Marston were being closely +examined. Then the President turned to Marston. + +"Since I am told you came from Africa in your little ship, it looks as +if you are a keen sailor." + +"I love the sea," said Marston, simply. "There is no other sport like +sailing." + +The President shrugged, and pushing back his plate, gave Marston a +cigar. + +"It is a love that needs cultivation. When I go to sea I am very ill. +Then one understands you others have comfortable yachts. To go to sea in +a trading boat is another thing." + +"All the same, one is at sea," Marston replied. "Besides, in a sense, a +yacht is a toy, and when you have sailed about for a time you begin to +feel it is playing and does not lead to much." He paused and resumed +apologetically: "Yachting is not serious, if you understood. I expect my +Castilian is very bad." + +The President smiled and Wyndham thought his look of puzzled amusement +was well done. He was satisfied with his comrade's reply. Bob was not +playing up; he was sincere. The others would recognize this. + +"The English are a serious people," the President remarked. "But go on, +my friend. I am not bored." + +"Well," said Marston, "when I got tired of playing, I saw how I could +make my yachting useful. I thought I could earn some money. Then Harry, +I mean Señor Wyndham--" He stopped and gave Wyndham an apologetic +glance. + +"He means he wanted to help me," Wyndham interposed. + +"To earn money is certainly useful," the President observed and turned +to Wyndham. "Your partner is a very scrupulous gentleman; he would not +rob me and feels that he must use his talents. But you do not go to sea +altogether because you like it?" + +"I am a merchant and live by trade. I am forced to earn money." + +"Then I hope you will earn enough to pay us our duties and I expect Don +Ramon will help you when he can," said the President. "I am sorry we +have no ships to show Señor Marston, because we are too poor to build a +navy yet. We have an old gunboat and a big new tug. I do not know why we +bought the tug, but the captain of the port-guards uses her to travel +about the coast." + +He paused and got up. "Now I must go back to the mission. If it is +possible, you shall see our soldiers, and if not, I may perhaps come to +see your ship." + +Larrinaga and Don Luis went off with him and Marston drained his glass. + +"That's done with!" he remarked with keen relief. "After all, it was +easier than I thought, but I got a knock when I saw the fellow was the +President. Don Luis is a staunch supporter of his and perhaps he +imagined breakfasting with him would be a cheap reward. Presidents and +such people do things like that." + +"It's possible, but I doubt," said Wyndham dryly. + +"Then suppose he came to study us? Do you think he feels we might be +dangerous?" + +"I imagined he feels he needn't bother about you. I'd much like to know +what he thinks about me." + +"Oh, well," said Marston, "he didn't push me hard and I got a part I +could play. I'm on firm ground so long as I can talk about boats. All +the same, when you come to think of it, if the fellow wanted to study +us, the thing's ominous. The country's not big, but he's its head and I +don't know if Presidents are often polite to traders." + +"Exactly!" said Wyndham. "We must be careful. Anyhow, we have found out +something. They don't want us to think they suspect us, or that their +drilling the soldiers is important. They're clever, but their frankness +was overdone. However, we must start for the port when Don Luis +returns." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A SAIL IN THE DARK + + +_Columbine_'s gig rubbed against the landing steps and Wyndham and +Marston lounged about the end of the mole. The sun had sunk behind a +high, black range and the land-breeze had begun to blow in gentle gusts +that crisped the greasy water and dropped again. When the crew were +trimming ballast in the hold, a man shouted that some chain Wyndham had +ordered had arrived, and he and Marston pulled the gig to the steps. +After putting the chain on board, they strolled to the town, where they +drank a glass of wine and bought a newspaper; and then went back to the +mole. For the last few nights they had slept on board, but it was early +in the evening and the top of the wall was cooler than the deck of the +yacht. Besides, a Spanish liner was steering for the port and they +waited to watch her passengers land. + +Presently Wyndham looked up from the newspaper. "It's lucky we bought +the _Diario_. It declares the report that the Sta Catalina mission was +recently plundered is not confirmed." + +"Isn't that Father Sebastian's station?" Marston asked. + +Wyndham nodded. "A few mud huts, and a small, thatched church! Still, it +belongs to a famous Order and pious folk no doubt sent gifts, because +the _Diario_'s remarks indicate that the Virgin's jewels were supposed +to have been stolen. If this is true, the thing's significant. The most +part of the people here are pretty staunch Catholics." + +"But the newspaper states the report is _not_ confirmed." + +"It is not denied," said Wyndham, meaningly. "I imagine the Government +had given the editor a hint. You see, the desecration of a church by +negroes would rouse the citizens' feelings and lead to a popular demand +for swift punishment. If the President complied, the Bat would know +about it, and the republicans would lose the advantage of surprise. All +the same, they must strike soon, because the Bat will now get ready." + +"Then, why do you think he let his people rob the mission?" + +"I don't think he did so. Perhaps some were too keen and got out of +control; perhaps some meant to force Larrinaga to put him down. They're +a treacherous lot and given to intrigue. However, there's another bit of +news. The gunboat, _Campeador_, has gone into Anagas, damaged, after +stranding, and will need extensive repairs. I expect this is true, +because folks at Anagas could see the boat." + +"It's important," Marston declared. "If the gunboat's damaged, Don Ramon +can't use her to carry his troops. Still I suppose the Government tug +could tow them along the coast on board the lighters. They are +overhauling her at San Cristobal. Looks as if we had better find out +when they'll finish the job." + +Wyndham nodded. San Cristobal was some distance off; a small town with a +good harbor, where there was a foundry and a coaling wharf. Yet it would +be dangerous to make open inquiries about the tug or to visit the +place, because Wyndham had grounds for imagining they were watched. +Indeed, one of the port-guards was lounging near them. When a whistle +screamed he looked up and saw the liner circle outside the mole. Foam +broke about her side as the screw turned astern, a row of lights flashed +into brightness, and big electric hatch lamps blazed up on deck. She +stopped, the anchor splashed, and the doctor's noisy launch went off. +Then the yellow flag came down and shore boats crowded about the ship. + +It was nearly dark when the returning boats pulled towards the mole. A +steamer was anchored near the entrance, and _Columbine_ rode between her +and the wall, leaving a narrow channel through which the boats must +pass. When the first was close by Wyndham glanced carelessly at the +passengers, but after a few moments his glance got fixed. Among the row +of faces there was one he thought he knew and as the boat drew level +with him he clenched his fist. + +"Look at the third man in the stern-sheets, Bob," he said. + +Marston looked and started. "It's Peters! This is going to make things +awkward. The brute has lost no time. D'you think he knows we're here?" + +"He knows _Columbine_," said Wyndham. "I imagine he sees her." Peters +turned his head and his movements indicated that he was talking to the +sailor who rowed on the thwart in front. + +"That is enough," Marston remarked. "He'll try us again in the morning, +and if we're firm, he'll see what he can do with Larrinaga. We are going +to be firm. I won't buy off the brute." + +"Then we had better get to sea, but we must find out about the tug +before we start. On the whole, I think we'll get about it now." + +Marston was surprised. "San Cristobal's a long way off, and I don't know +if we could hire horses. Then I doubt if we could return by noon +to-morrow, and one of the port-guards might board _Columbine_ in the +morning. Larrinaga would guess our object if he found out where we'd +gone." + +"Exactly," said Wyndham. "We can't go by road, but the gig is here and +we'd shorten the distance by sailing across the bay. In fact, if we're +lucky, we ought to have an hour or two to look about and then get back +by daybreak. The land-breeze will soon blow fresh; a fair wind both +ways." + +"By George!" said Marston. "The thing can be done!" + +Running down the steps, they pushed off the gig. She was a well-built +boat, twenty feet long, and on the African coast Marston had got a Fanti +carpenter to fit her with a centerboard. She carried a big sail when she +had a crew on board, and now the heavy chain would make good ballast. +When they had got a compass, a lantern, and some food from _Columbine_, +they pulled off among some shore boats going to the liner, and vanished +into the darkness round her stern. + +"If the port-guard saw us, he'd reckon we meant to board the mailboat, +but it's possible he didn't pick us out from the others," Wyndham +remarked. "Well, the breeze is freshening. Let's put up the mast." + +They were occupied for some minutes, and then Wyndham sat down at the +tiller and the gig, leaning over, gathered speed. Marston had had the +lugsail and jib made in England by a famous yacht-chandler, and the +boat was fast. Foam piled up at her lee bow, lapped the gunwale at her +waist, and boiled round her stern. The breeze came down in gusts from +the high land, and now and then the boat, listing sharply, shipped some +water. Wyndham might have avoided this by slackening the sheet, but he +held on to the rope and kept his course. Although the night was dark, he +could see the hills against the sky and for a time he followed the +coast. Then, when the shore curved back in a wide bay, he told Marston +to put the compass on the thwart and light the lantern. + +"Get out the baler and bucket, afterwards," he said. "There's room +enough for the wind to knock up the sea, and she'll take some water on +board as we reach across. Time's valuable and we must hold her to it, +without shortening sail." + +Marston crouched behind the lifted weather gunwale and lighted the +lantern; then he saw that halyards and sheets were clear, and afterwards +pulled up the well-board in the stern flooring. Sitting down with the +baler in his hand by the hole, he waited and looked about. The sea began +to break as they drew out from the land. Showers of spray beat into the +hollow of the jib and the splashes that blew across the weather bow got +heavier. The wind was not, as they had hoped, abeam, but a point or two +ahead, and Marston lowered the centerboard, which jolted in its trunk +when she plunged. She was not shipping much water yet and he wondered +whether he could light his pipe. Then Wyndham said, "Look out!" + +A white comber rose to windward, there was a thud, and jib and short +bowsprit vanished. A white cloud hid the mainsail and foaming water +flooded aft. As he used the baler Marston heard the sheet-blocks rattle. +Wyndham was easing her while he threw the water out. It was hard to fill +the bucket because the flood washed to and fro, but he knew the job was +urgent. He was wet and breathless when he looked up. + +"A nasty one!" he gasped. + +"Here's another," said Wyndham, and flying water whipped Marston's face. + +After this he was kept occupied. Sometimes he used the bucket and +sometimes the baler, for water came on board fast. Now and then he +imagined Wyndham slackened the sheet to ease a plunge that might swamp +the boat, but this was Harry's business and he must not neglect his. +Balancing himself against the lurching, he scooped up the splashing +flood. When a gust heeled the boat over it gained on him, and then as +the pressure slackened he held his own, but while he used his best +efforts he could not bale her dry. At length, when his arms ached and he +was very wet, he stopped for a few moments. + +"Don't know if I can keep it up for long; I'm horribly cramped," he +said. "Can't we drop the lug and tie in a reef?" + +"I doubt if she'd hold her course with sail shortened," Wyndham replied. +"The breeze has drawn another point ahead and we'll lose time we can't +spare if we're forced to tack. Stick it out, Bob. We'll get smoother +water when we pick up the land again." + +He stopped and jerked the tiller, a moment too late, for a sea came over +the bow. The water foamed about Marston's knees, the lantern went out, +and he thought he felt the compass strike his legs. + +"Bale!" said Wyndham, sharply. "She'll capsize if she ships another +before you get this lot out." + +Marston did his best, while the lantern and compass washed against the +bucket. There was no use in stopping to pick them up, since he could not +get a light and Harry was now steering by the wind. He must keep her as +near it as she would point until they crossed the bay and found the land +again. Marston hoped this would be soon. For some time he did not look +up and afterwards wondered how Wyndham kept her afloat, but at length +the plunges got easier and the water did not come on board so fast. By +degrees, he got it under, and stopping to stretch his cramped limbs, +looked to windward. The sea was smoother and the breeze not so fresh. +There was a vague dark line not far off and he knew they were +approaching the beach. + +"We'll be round the point in a few minutes," said Wyndham. "Bale her +dry, and then look out for the red light at San Cristobal." + +Soon after he stopped baling, Marston saw a red twinkle. The gig was +sailing very fast, swaying down and recovering buoyantly as the gusts +came and went. The lug-yard bent in a strained curve and showers of +spray blew into the sail. Marston, stooping behind the gunwale, managed +to strike a match and told Wyndham the time when he had looked at his +watch. + +"We have made a good run, but she'll beat it going back, when we'll have +the wind a point or two aft," he added. "This ought to give us an hour, +or perhaps an hour-and-a-half, at the port." + +"It will be enough. Unluckily, the tide is ebbing yet, and although +there's not much rise and fall, I don't know if we can both leave the +boat. It would be awkward if she grounded and we couldn't shove her +off." + +Marston nodded. The gig was heavy and he doubted if they could launch +her down a beach. It would be risky to tie her to landing steps, because +the port-guards watched the harbors at night. Vessels were not allowed +to enter after dark. Yet he did not want to be separated from Harry. + +In the meantime, they were fast coming up with the light, and when a +high, dark wall ran out in front Wyndham luffed the boat and they +lowered sail and took down the mast. Marston sculled her past the wall, +and the narrow harbor opened up. A few anchor lights swung languidly +inside, and the indistinct, dark shape of a steamer shut out part of the +wall. When they got near her Marston stopped sculling. + +"The repairing slip is up at the top by the foundry," he said. "I expect +the brigantine to starboard has a rope out. If we try to get across, we +might make a splash. If we go the other side, we'll pass close under the +steamer's rail. She's a pretty big boat; they'll have a _Sereno_ on +board, and keep harbor watch. If somebody hailed us, it might bring the +port-guard." + +Wyndham nodded and for a few moments they looked about. The harbor was +long and narrow. For the most part, the town at its end was dark, but +two or three big electric lamps threw a silver gleam across indistinct +masses of foliage. Marston thought these were trees on the _marina_ at +the water's edge. If so, the faint light lower down came from the office +of the port-captain. Turning to the wall abreast of the gig, he +imagined he saw some steps. + +"Perhaps you had better land me and wait while I try to find the tug," +he said. "I ought to get back in an hour." + +"The awkward part is going along the mole," Wyndham replied. "You'll +have to pass two or three vessels and somebody may speak to you. This +must be risked one way, but instead of coming back, it might be prudent +to cross the land end of the mole and join me on the beach in front of +the _marina_. There's not much surf to bother us, but it will make some +noise and if anybody is about you won't be heard." + +Marston agreed, and sculling to the steps, jumped out. He pushed off the +gig, and Wyndham picked up the oar. In another few moments the boat +vanished in the dark. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE TUG + + +When he had climbed the steps Marston stopped. Now he had started on his +adventure he saw its difficulties. To begin with, he must pass two or +three vessels, and the lights that burned on the steamer touched the +mole. She came from Cadiz and Spanish passenger boats carried a +_Sereno_, whose particular duty was to keep watch at night. Marston was +afraid the man might hail him. Although he had laboriously studied +Castilian, he did not speak it well, and his accent would indicate that +he was a foreigner. If the _Sereno_ were curious and kept him talking, +the port-guard might come up. Anyhow, there was some risk of his meeting +the latter and he would then be asked to account for his wandering about +in the dark. It was obvious that he could not do so satisfactorily, and +there was a telephone to the Government office at the Capital. + +Marston doubted if Larrinaga could imprison him for spying, but it did +not matter much. If he were found at San Cristobal, Don Ramon would know +his object and would not let him go until he had sent off his soldiers +to put down the Bat. If the latter were not warned, he would probably be +surprised and captured. This was unthinkable, and Marston saw he must +not be caught, although to run away from the port-guard might lead to +his getting shot. The fellows carried pistols, which they were +empowered to use. Caution was plainly needed, and he crept past the +steamer, keeping close to the high parapet of the mole. + +Nobody hailed him, and he went on until he came opposite a small marque. +She had no lights, but as he stole by his foot struck a mooring rope and +he fell. He lay flat on the ground for some moments, and then, hearing +no movement on board, got up and crept away, looking out for the next +rope. The mole was long and he had not gone far when he heard the splash +of oars. A boat came out of the dark, and a break in the wall indicated +a row of steps. Marston did not want to turn back, and it was possible +the men were going to one of the vessels. If they were going to the +town, he had better get past the steps before they landed. A pile of +goods forced him to leave the gloom of the parapet and it looked as if +his figure cut against the sky, for the splash of oars stopped. + +"_Ola compañero!_" somebody shouted. + +Marston saw he must trust his luck and asked gruffly: "_Que quiere?_" + +The man said they were coming to let go a schooner's rope but he might +throw it down, and Marston dragged the heavy warp to the edge. + +"_Coje-le_," he said in a hoarse voice and threw down the rope. + +He imagined it fell upon the others' heads, for somebody said, "_Mal +rayo! Esta borracho._" + +Then the boat pulled away and Marston went on. If the fellows thought +him drunk, so much the better. This would account for his brevity and +uncouth accent. He wondered whether the shouting had excited the +port-guards' curiosity, but although he stopped to listen he heard +nothing. + +By-and-by he got near the end of the mole and distinguished the +repairing ship, which ran down obliquely to the water. The trees on the +_marina_ rose behind it, touched in places by the glow from two big +electric lamps, and a blurred, dark mass cut against the illumination. +This was, no doubt, the tug and he wondered, rather anxiously, whether +the crew were on board. Stopping where the gloom was deepest, he looked +carefully about. + +The tug's bow rose high above him, but he doubted if the tide had left +her stern. So far as he could feel with his feet, the stones were +covered by broken shells, and he smelt paint. In the tropics, the bottom +of an iron vessel soon gets crusted with shells and weed, and it looked +as if the crew had scraped the boat. When the plates were clean they +would paint her with red-oxide before applying the anti-fouling coat. It +was important for him to find out which they had put on, because, since +they could only work at low-water, this might mean a difference of a day +or two in the time needed to finish the job. All the same, he could not +take it for granted that she would be ready for sea when the last coat +was dry. He understood her engines were being overhauled, and must +ascertain if the work were done. + +Marston moved lower down the inclined slip. The tug was a big propeller +boat and rested, upright, on heavy shores. When he was level with the +engine-room he saw a ladder against her side and his foot struck +something that tinkled. Stooping down, he felt about and found a number +of short tubes, some of which had torn ends. They had obviously come +from the condenser, and re-tubing a condenser might be a long job. It +looked as if he would have to get on board, but, to begin with, he had +better see how far the men had gone with the painting. + +He rubbed his hand along the plates. Although they were pretty smooth, +this did not tell him much and he got no plainer hint when he used his +nose. There was a strong smell of paint, but he could not tell if it was +the priming coat, or the anti-fouling that would finish the work. +Perhaps he could find the drum that had held the paint and he began to +feel about as he moved down the slip. He had not gone far, however, when +he trod on a piece of iron that tilted up and dropped with a sharp +rattle. To continue the search might be dangerous and he stopped and +listened. + +All was quiet on board the tug; the trees on the _marina_ tossed in the +wind and the surf rumbled behind the mole. A clinking noise came up the +harbor and Marston imagined the men whose rope he had thrown down were +getting ready to go to sea at sunrise; vessels were not allowed to leave +or enter port in the dark. This reminded Marston that it was some time +since he had left Wyndham and they must reach the schooner before +daybreak. + +He went back up the slip, hoping he might be able to see the tug's deck. +Now he was on higher ground, he noted a faint and rather puzzling +illumination behind her bulwarks. Its position indicated that it came +from the engine-room and he imagined the skylight was open but somebody +had thrown a tarpaulin across the frames. The hinged lights opened from +the bottom, and perhaps the engineer wanted to dry his paint and yet +keep the heavy dew off the machinery. Anyhow, since there was a light in +the engine-room, one could see below. + +Marston hesitated at the bottom of the ladder. It would be very awkward +if he were caught on board the tug; but he must find out if she were +ready for sea and he wore light, rubber-soled deck shoes. The ladder was +not fastened, for the top began to slip along the plates when he +climbed, and he was forced to reach up and seize the rail. Next moment +he stepped cautiously down on deck. Nobody seemed to have heard him and +all was dark but for the glow from the skylight, which only shone for a +few feet on the damp planks. As Marston made for the engine-room his +foot struck an iron drum and he stopped. It was a paint-drum, but he +must discover if it were empty and what paint the crew had used. + +He tilted the drum and its lightness indicated that there was not much +inside. Then he turned it round carefully until he could see the brass +label on the top. The letters were obscured by paint, but he +distinguished JES--and was satisfied. He knew the famous anti-fouling +composition; the crew had put on the last coat and, so far as her being +painted went, the tug was ready for sea. Now he must look at her +engines, and he put back the drum. Its rim jarred on the deck and +Marston thought he heard a movement below. Stooping down, he looked +under the tarpaulin and got something of a shock. + +A man stood on the floor plates in the engine-room, with his face turned +up towards the skylight as if he had been disturbed. Marston could not +see him well, because the bars of the top platform were in the way, but +the fellow carried a small, bright piece of steel and a ball of waste. +It looked as if he had been cleaning a valve-spindle, and his working at +night was significant. Marston's heart beat, but after a few moments the +other seemed to be satisfied and sitting down on a locker picked up a +file. + +When the fellow bent his head over his work Marston glanced carefully +about the engine-room. He saw the condenser; the cover was on, which +indicated that the repairs were finished. A chain tackle hung from the +beams above the cylinders and some nuts lay about their heads. The +pistons had obviously been lifted in order to put on new rings. Other +things Marston noted implied that the engines had been given a thorough +overhaul. He thought the work was nearly completed, but when one +examined a vessel's engines the boiler was generally opened and he crept +cautiously to the stokehold. + +The ladder came up to a grating on deck and when he had gone down half +way he struck a match. He could see the man-hole; the cover had recently +been taken off and replaced, for smears of red-lead marked the joint, +and Marston went cautiously back to the deck. He knew all he wanted to +know. The tug had been put in first-rate order, as if in preparation for +some important work, and he thought she could be floated off after +another tide. He must now rejoin Wyndham as soon as possible. So far, he +had been lucky, but when he went to the rail it looked as if his luck +had turned. + +A man, singing lustily, crossed the _marina_ and his hoarseness implied +that he was returning from a carouse. As he passed the port-captain's +office somebody hailed him and Marston heard him answer, "_Fogonero_." + +There was a short colloquy that seemed to get abusive, and then somebody +said, "_Vaya al diablo!_" + +The man laughed and came on unsteadily towards the mole. He was a ship's +fireman, and Marston, who did not want to meet him, hoped he was not +making for the tug. After a few moments he fell down and Marston thought +he kicked something savagely when he got up. His figure was now faintly +distinguishable and it was plain that he meant to board the tug. Marston +crawled round the skylight and crouched against the bulwarks on the +other side. A rope ran across the rail and he tried to feel if its end +was fast. The rope might help him to reach the ground. + +Then the awkward steps stopped at the tug and the ladder shook. Its +upper end slipped and a noise below indicated that the fireman had +fallen off. + +"Pancho, Panchito!" he shouted. "Come out and help, little parrot!" + +Marston heard the engineer clatter across the iron platforms and cross +the deck. So far as Marston could understand, his remarks were grossly +rude, but the other interrupted: + +"What is a small bottle of _caña_ to a fireman? It is the ladder that is +drunk. If you will not hold it, little parrot, I must sleep in the +cold." + +To judge by the noise they made, Pancho seized the ladder while the +other scrambled up. He jumped on deck, laughing boisterously, a door +shut, and when the men's feet rattled on the platform bars in the +engine-room Marston crawled across the deck. He found the top of the +ladder, but had only gone down a few steps when it slipped across the +side and threw him off. Although he did not fall far, the ladder struck +the ground with a crash and he lay down in the gloom under the tug's +bilge. + +After waiting for a few moments he saw the others were not coming back +on deck, and he got up and stole along the slip. Crossing the mole with +a few quick steps, he climbed the parapet and dropped to the stones on +the other side. When he had gone a hundred yards along the beach he +whistled softly, and although the gravel rolled about in the languid +surf heard Wyndham's answer. Then the gig's white hull appeared +indistinctly among the streaks of foam, and he plunged into the backwash +as a wave recoiled. Seizing the gig's bow, he pushed her off and got on +board while Wyndham sculled her round. For two or three minutes they let +her drift off-shore; and then stepped the mast and hoisted sail. + +"Well?" said Wyndham. "Did you find the tug?" + +Marston related his adventures and added: "I expect they'll float her +off next tide, but some of the small jobs I noted would hardly be +finished. Then she'll have to coal, fill her tanks, and get up steam. In +fact, I don't imagine she could start until sometime after dark +to-morrow. Five or six lighters were lying near the slip." + +"She'll no doubt bring them across," said Wyndham thoughtfully. "I +expect the skipper will go half-speed across the bay. Well, suppose she +arrives in the morning? The sea-breeze will freshen as the sun gets +high, and towing the loaded boats would be dangerous in broken water; +perhaps we can take it for granted the troops won't leave until it's +dark. At night they'd get smooth water, because the wind's off the land. +This means we have about forty-eight hours' warning. But slack the jib +sheet a little. Our first job's to get on board by daybreak." + +As they opened up the bay the sea got rougher, but the wind was on the +gig's quarter and they let her go. She rolled on the angry combers and +the boom that stretched the lugsail's foot tossed up. If she fell off +much and the sail lurched across, the shock would capsize her or carry +away the mast. Wyndham, however, held her straight and she drove on, +with curling foam piled about her side. It was a wild run and they were +glad when they got near the land again and found shelter. The sea was +smooth now, and the breeze moderate, although it blew in gusts that +heeled the boat and set the water splashing against her planks. Once or +twice Wyndham made Marston strike a match and look at his watch. + +"We may get in, but we have not much time to spare," he said at length. + +The breeze fell and the boat rose nearly upright. Marston put out an oar +and began to pull, for when he looked east the sky was getting pale. The +gig was sailing, but the splash at the bows was faint and at times the +canvas hung slack. Half an hour afterwards they pulled down the mast and +Wyndham took the other oar. + +"A steady stroke! Don't force the pace. But you have got to row!" he +said. + +The need for speed was plain. The eastern sky was clearing and the mist +began to roll back from the coast. Marston saw a belt of surf and +shadowy rocks and woods. Ahead, a light marked the harbor mouth, but it +was some distance off and the gig was a heavy boat for two men to row. +Yet they must reach port before day broke, and, gasping and straining, +they labored on. After his hasty glance about, Marston saw nothing but +Wyndham's back, swinging to and fro in front with a regularity that he +must emulate. He felt the bow lift as he dragged the heavy oar through +the water; then there was a faint gurgle, and his heart beat as he swung +forward again. His hands blistered and the sweat ran into his eyes. + +At length, Wyndham said something hoarsely and a high wall, washed by +languid surf, rose above the boat. They were entering the harbor, but +Marston dared not turn to look ahead. The light was growing and the wall +would guide them to _Columbine_. He must not miss a stroke, because the +port-guard might be able to see them now. Three or four minutes +afterwards, Wyndham stopped rowing and said, "Easy! Let her go!" + +Marston fell forward with his oar and fought for breath. His heart beat +like a hammer, his arms and legs trembled, and he felt he had not +strength to lift his head. Then the end of his oar struck something and +they were alongside _Columbine_. Rousing himself with an effort, he +leaned out and seized a rope. Wyndham got up and began to lift the mast. + +"Find the compass and lantern; then help me put the gear on board," he +said. + +When the gig was empty of all but the oars they got over the schooner's +rail and pulled off their wet clothes. In the tropics, white men, as a +rule, do not bathe in cold water, but the galley fire was not lighted +and Wyndham filled a bucket over the side. The cool brine braced them, +and going to the cabin, they began to take out dry clothes. Wyndham, +however, stopped, as if listening, and Marston heard the splash of oars. + +"Pyjamas, I think," said Wyndham. "Somebody's coming." + +As they put on their pyjamas the oars stopped close by and a man +shouted. + +"One of us will be enough," Wyndham resumed. "Look as sleepy as you +can." + +Marston went up, with his pyjamas half buttoned, and leaned on the rail. +It was daylight, for on the Caribbean dawn comes swiftly at about six +o'clock. A boat carrying two men in the port-guards' uniform floated a +few yards off. Marston thought they were looking at the gig, and he +waited in keen suspense. + +"A note from Señor Larrinaga," said one. + +"Don Ramon gets up early," Marston remarked with a yawn, and when the +man gave him the note added: "Wait a minute." + +Opening the envelope he went to the cabin and said to Wyndham, "We are +asked to breakfast at the mission and see the soldiers parade. I imagine +we're expected to stop the day. Don Ramon is sending horses; they'll be +ready in half an hour." + +"Well," said Wyndham, "I suppose we must go." + +Marston gave the men a bottle of _caña_ and sent them off. Then he went +back and sat down limply. + +"If we had been ten minutes longer, they'd have found us out," he said. +"I don't feel up to riding far, and their asking us to the mission now +is awkward. Still I expect we couldn't sail until it's dark. It's lucky +we got our clearance papers." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT THE MISSION + + +Half an hour after the boat pulled away, Marston and Wyndham mounted the +horses Larrinaga had sent. The mission was some distance off, but +breakfast would not be served until about eleven o'clock and they rode +slowly up the hill behind the town. Two soldiers followed thirty or +forty yards in the rear, but Marston had found out that they knew no +English. Wyndham was quiet and preoccupied. + +"The horses are the best I've seen, and I suppose Don Ramon's sending an +escort is something of a compliment," Marston said presently. "We are +going to the mission like honored guests; I don't know about our coming +back. Yet we must get back to-night." + +"We calculated the tug would sail with the lighters to-morrow after dark +and we need twenty-four hours' start," Wyndham replied. "It ought to be +enough, if the breeze is strong; landing the troops will be a long job. +However, we must not be late." + +Marston agreed. Larrinaga was using every precaution to keep the +dispatch of the expedition secret, and no doubt hoped to surprise the +Bat. If they were too late, they might be captured with him. If, +however, they brought him warning long enough beforehand, he might make +a stubborn defense, and this would involve them in fresh entanglements. + +"I'd feel happier if I knew the President's plans for to-day," Marston +resumed. + +"So would I," said Wyndham, smiling. "I imagine they will, to some +extent, depend on the line we take. On the whole, his object for sending +for us is plain; he wants to keep us away from the port as long as +possible." + +"If he thought we were spying for the Bat, he might lock us up." + +"I think not. He would then have to inform the consul and state the +grounds for our arrest. All the same, if he's not satisfied, he may tax +us with cheating the customs or something of the kind and keep us until +the tug has sailed. In the meantime, perhaps it's lucky we are not about +the port, because I think Peters won't offer his help to the Government +until he has seen us. If Larrinaga knew what Peters knows, we wouldn't +reach the lagoon." + +"I expect that is so," said Marston gloomily. "Well, it will be a big +relief when all this intrigue is done with and we leave the coast for +good." + +For the most part they were silent until they reached the mission. The +building was old and falling to ruin, but it had a touch of stateliness, +for its foundations were laid when the Spanish conquerors were +influenced by the austere beauty of Moorish art. The front was pierced +by Saracenic arches that led to a cloistered walk on one side of the +patio, from which an outside stair went up to the officers' rooms. The +rest of the building was plainer and was now used for a barracks. Palms +grew round the square in front and in the background dusky forest rolled +back to the mountains that cut the sky. Two or three companies of +_cazadores_ were drawn up in the square. + +The President and Larrinaga received their guests at the central arch, +where chairs had been put in the shade. There was another gentleman, +whom Wyndham imagined belonged to the President's cabinet, and he +thought the minister quietly studied him and Marston. It was possible +Señor Villar had joined the party with this object. If so, it looked as +if the others had not yet decided if they were dangerous or not. + +"Now you have arrived, we will go on with the drill," the President +remarked. "Afterwards, Señor Marston will tell us what he thinks about +my soldiers." + +"My opinion is not worth much; I am a sailor," Marston replied with some +awkwardness, because he thought the President was amused. + +"You are modest," the latter rejoined. "Well, we cannot ask what you +think about our fleet. Our gunboat, the _Campeador_, has stranded, and +this only leaves us the tug." + +"I have seen the tug," said Marston, and stopping for a moment, went on: +"A very fine boat! She looks powerful and ought to steam fast." + +Wyndham wondered whether the others had noted Marston's pause. It was +not long and perhaps his frank admission would satisfy them. + +"Let us try to turn kilometers into what you call knots," said the +President. "It is a complicated sum; you must help me, Don Ramon." + +"About twelve knots," Wyndham interposed when they began the +calculation. "However, you must not indulge my comrade by letting him +talk about ships. We came to see the soldiers." + +The President signed to an officer, who shouted, and the _cazadores_ +wheeled and formed on a new front. The bands and muzzles of their rifles +sparkled in the searching light and dust rolled about them as they +moved. They were little, wiry men, and although they did not drill +remarkably well and their white uniforms were not clean, Wyndham noted +that their rifles were good. Moreover, their equipment was up to date +and new. + +The officer, shouting savagely, kept the men moving about, and when at +length he dismissed them came back, hot and sprinkled by dust, with a +look of disgust. Wyndham, allowing something for the German character, +thought the disgust was rather marked. + +"Then you are not satisfied yet?" the President asked. + +"They are your Excellency's subjects," the other replied with a shrug. +"I do my best, but we do not make much progress. Perhaps, with extra +drill for two or three months----" + +The President laughed. "One must use patience, and in this country one +goes slowly. Besides, I do not know if speed is needed." He turned to +Wyndham. "Now we will leave you to Don Arnoldo for a few minutes. I +promised Señor Villar I would examine the quartermaster's books. There +are people who grumble about our military extravagance." + +He went off with the others and the officer sat down. Wyndham imagined +him a soldier of fortune whose main object was to earn his pay. For all +that, it looked as if he had been given a part in the plot and had +played up well. + +"I expect you find drilling these fellows a tiresome job," Marston said +in English. + +"It is so," the other agreed. "The President is too ambitious; I think +he wastes his money. His people have no military feeling; they are +stupid individualists and one cannot give them mass-consciousness. One +might make them brigands, but not soldiers. Yet I think they would +fight, and after all, the best school for soldiers is war." + +"You don't want a war for the sake of drilling your men!" Marston +exclaimed, and the officer laughed. + +"In my country, we are no longer sentimentalists and I do not pretend to +be humanitarian. In the meantime, there is no war, and I am satisfied to +draw my pay. Playing with soldiers is expensive, and some of the people +grumble, but so far the pay is regular. When it stops I give up my +post." + +Soon afterwards, the President came back and breakfast was served behind +the pillars. For a time he talked to Marston about the soldiers and then +remarked: "I understand you do not stop long." + +"Our business is nearly finished and we expect to sail very soon," +Wyndham replied. "Now our visit to the coast is over, I feel there is +much for which we must thank you and Don Ramon." + +"We hope your visit has been prosperous enough to bring you back," +Villar interposed. "You paid us some duties. All foreigners are not so +honest." + +"I expect foreigners are something of a nuisance. It is strange, but +when one goes abroad one feels justified in breaking rules." + +Villar smiled. "This is illogical. Have you broken our rules?" + +"Not many; my partner is scrupulous, and if I have given way to +temptation, it was not from greediness." + +"Then what persuaded you?" + +"Perhaps it was British impatience with other people's regulations. In a +way, we are rather an arrogant lot, and it flatters our self-importance +to know that if we do get into trouble our Consuls will probably save us +from the punishment we deserve. You cannot lock up a drunken British +sailor without inquiries being made. Don Arnoldo's people are proud of +their army, but our fleet is ubiquitous." + +"Señor Wyndham is frank, although I doubt if he is just to himself," the +President remarked with a twinkle. "I will confess it is sometimes hard +to bear with foreigners philosophically, but we make the effort. My +country is poor and we need the trade and money they bring. If we do not +always love them, we make allowances." He paused and gave Wyndham a +thoughtful glance. "There is, however, one thing about which we are +firm; no stranger must meddle with our politics. It is our Monroe +doctrine and is sternly enforced." + +"A good rule," Wyndham agreed. "After all, your people do not need much +help from strangers; they have some talent for political intrigue. How +many antagonistic parties have you just now?" + +"Six," said the President dryly. "They hate each other, but to gain an +advantage all will combine against my Government. Moreover, in this +country, the vote is not the only way of marking one's disapproval. But +we will let this go. You will stop with us to-night and Don Ramon will +give you some shooting when the evening gets cool." + +Wyndham thought quickly. He had expected something like this and it was +obvious that much depended on his reply. + +"We ought to go back," he said, with pretended hesitation. "You see, we +want to sail as soon as the wind is fair and must get water and stores +on board. It might, however, help if you would let us leave port at +night. The land-breeze would carry us some distance off the coast before +it dropped when the sun got up." + +"Very well," said Larrinaga. "I will send the port-captain orders, and +if you tell him when you want to sail he will let you go." + +Wyndham allowed himself to be persuaded, and soon afterwards the +President went off and Larrinaga took them to a shady room. He said +dinner would be served at four o'clock and then they would go to a lake +and shoot. When he left them Marston looked at Wyndham. + +"Why did you agree to stop?" + +"I did not think there was much use in refusing. Their urging us to stop +was an experiment. If I had insisted on going, they'd have known why." + +"Then, d'you imagine they'd keep us by force?" asked Marston. + +"It's possible. I studied the President when I made my boast about our +British citizenship. He stated they would allow no meddling with their +politics, and he meant this. Anyhow, if I'd shown him his suspicions +were well-grounded, he would have found a plausible excuse for keeping +_Columbine_ in port." + +"All the same, we have got to get away," said Marston in a resolute +voice. + +Wyndham nodded. "That's plain. Well, if we go to bed soon after shooting +and are lucky, they won't miss us until somebody brings our early +breakfast. I don't know if we can get the horses. Now I'm going to +sleep." + +He got into a hammock and Marston lay down in a long chair. They had +been strenuously occupied all night and did not expect much rest the +next. Nobody would bother them until dinner, and although they were +disturbed and anxious they went to sleep. + +After dinner Larrinaga took them to a lake, where they shot some ducks. +The President was occupied when they returned at dark, and for a time +they sat on the arcade, playing cards. The cards were Spanish and +Marston could not remember their value and the rules of the game. +Mosquitoes hovered about them, the night was gloomy and very hot. +Something in the still air made one strangely languid. Moreover, he was +tired and anxious, and he did not feel much relief when Villar put the +cards away and they began to talk. + +Marston suspected the others' remarks were not as careless as they +looked and might lead him to some awkward statements. It was like +fencing with a clever antagonist when all one could do was to stand +clumsily on guard. For the most part, he left the talk to Wyndham, and +although Harry played up well, Marston thought the effort was difficult. +He wondered whether their companions saw this. There was one comfort; in +the tropics, people got up early and he imagined their hosts would not +sit very long. + +At length Larrinaga pushed back his chair. "Time goes and my duties +begin at sunrise. Then I think you would like to make an early start?" + +Wyndham said they must get off as soon as possible, and Larrinaga +nodded. + +"Don Arnoldo will give the necessary orders about the horses. They +belong to the soldiers and nobody else is allowed about the stable. I +believe he posts a guard at night. The Germans are like that, and the +mission is now under military rule. It has drawbacks, but the army is +the President's hobby and we submit." + +The officer laughed and said the horses would be ready soon after +daybreak, and when the others went off Marston and Wyndham climbed the +outside stairs to their room. + +"Looks as if they meant to keep us. Don Ramon's hint was plain," Marston +observed. + +"It's lucky white men don't walk much in this country," Wyndham replied. +"A _pasear_ round the plaza while the band plays is about all the +exercise people take, and I don't imagine anybody above the rank of a +_peon_ has ever walked from the mission to the port. In fact, it's very +possible Don Ramon hasn't calculated that we might set off on foot." He +paused and went to the window. "The night's dark but very calm. A noise +would carry; we must wait for some time." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_COLUMBINE_ STEALS AWAY + + +All was quiet at the mission but for the soft rustle of the palms when a +puff of wind came down the hill. The last light had gone out behind the +narrow windows across the patio, and Wyndham, looking at his watch, got +up. + +"We must chance it now," he said. "If all goes well, we ought to reach +the port two or three hours before dawn and our hosts won't miss us +until the major-domo sends our breakfast." + +Marston pulled himself together. The port was a long way off and since +he had left England he had not walked much, but it was obvious that he +must make good speed to-night. Opening the door quietly, they stole +downstairs, carrying their boots, and stopped for a few moments in the +gloom of an arch. It was very dark; the palms across the square hardly +showed against the sky. There was a sentry on the terrace, but they +could not see him and waited until they heard his measured steps. + +When the sentry passed the arch, they crept out and started across the +square. Small stones hurt their feet, but they went on as fast as +possible, until they heard a soft rattle of leather and jingle of steel. +The sentry had wheeled round at the end of his beat and was coming back, +and they lay down on the sand and waited until the steps receded. They +must reach the gloom of the trees before he turned again, and they +pushed on, listening hard. Marston's heart beat and his hands trembled +as he clutched his boots. The measured steps stopped for a moment and +then began to get louder, but Bob drew a deep breath when he +distinguished the long branches of the palms overhead. Nobody could see +him now. + +A few minutes afterwards they set off down hill at the fastest pace they +could make. The road was rough, one could not see the holes, and Marston +was soon wet with perspiration. He had got soft in the tropics and his +legs began to ache, but he thought he was going nearly five miles an +hour. Since time was valuable, he must try to keep it up. He had no +breath to talk and Wyndham said nothing; with clenched hands and eyes +fixed straight in front they labored on. Half-seen palms went by, but in +places the gloom was impenetrable, and now and then they fell into a +hole. + +By-and-by Marston's boot began to gall his foot. The smart got worse and +sometimes he limped. When he did so, he dropped behind Wyndham, and +setting his mouth tight he trod squarely. One could not walk fast on the +side of one's foot; he must push on and bear the pain. It was ridiculous +that he should lose time because his boot scraped his toe. Yet long +afterwards he remembered the effort to keep up his speed. + +When the first white houses of the town came out of the gloom his +clothes were sticking to his skin and his wet hair was flat on his head. +He stopped and sat down in a dusty gutter. + +"I've got to take off my boots. There's a pavement of sorts," he gasped. + +Wyndham nodded and looked about. The houses were indistinct and the sky +was dark. He could not see his watch, but he calculated it was about +four o'clock and day would not break for two hours yet. Puffs of wind +touched his wet face and he heard it in the trees behind the town. They +were in time, but had none to waste. + +"Be quick!" he said. "We're a mile from the harbor." + +Marston got up and they set off. Straight and nearly blank walls now +shut them in, for the houses got light from the patios. Wyndham's steps +echoed in the dark, but except for this all was quiet. It looked as if +nobody were about. A strange smell hung about the houses, for the street +was narrow and the land-breeze did not sweep it clean. + +By-and-by they crossed a square and kept back from a lamp at the end of +another street. To meet one of the armed police would be awkward, for +although the fellow's curiosity might be appeased by a bribe, to +persuade him would occupy some time. They met nobody, but after some +minutes Wyndham thought it prudent to cross the _alameda_, where shady +paths wound among tall trees. The gloom would hide them and from one end +a dark street ran down to the harbor. Marston agreed and set his lips as +he struggled on, for the walks were covered by sharp, fresh gravel. +Stealing along the dark street, they reached the mole and stopped for a +moment. So far as they could see, the tug had not arrived, and although +they distinguished _Columbine_'s masts against the sky, she was moored +to a buoy some distance from the wall. Wyndham had warned the crew to +keep a watch, but there was a risk in hailing them. + +"One of the port-guards is generally about this side of the harbor," he +said. + +They listened, but only heard the sea splash against the wall and the +wind in a neighboring vessel's rigging. The land-breeze was fresh and +blew down the harbor. If they could get on board, it would not be long +before _Columbine_ was at sea. + +"We might swim," Marston suggested. + +"I think not," said Wyndham. "There's a nasty, splashing ripple that +would break in our faces; besides, the gig would be quicker. We must +chance a hail." + +He shouted and Marston clenched his fist when no answer came. It was +unthinkable that they should be stopped by the negligence of a sleepy +look-out. Before long the port-guard would walk up the mole, and if they +were not gone, would take them to the captain's office. One must get +leave to go on board, because the port was closed at night. + +They waited for two or three minutes, since Wyndham dared not shout +again, and then a soft rattle came out of the dark. Marston started and +thrilled. + +"I believe that's somebody jumping into the gig," he said. + +"It is," said Wyndham softly, and after a few moments added: "She's +coming." + +They could not see the boat and she made very little noise. There was no +splash; it looked as if somebody sculled her cautiously. By and by a +dark object glided out of the gloom beside the wall and they went to the +steps. + +"Go back softly, softly," Wyndham said to the indistinct figure in the +stern as they got on board. + +In a few minutes they reached the schooner and Marston's spirits rose. +He had done with tracks and plots; now his job was straightforward. +Moreover, he knew it well. + +"I'll cast off the bow mooring," he said when Wyndham got on board. +"Give me a line and you can haul the chain up quietly. It mustn't run +through the pipe." + +Shoving the gig forward, he jumped out on the buoy; then he unscrewed +the shackle and, fastening on the line he brought, waved his hand. The +chain slipped gently into the water and did not make much noise when the +men on board pulled it up. _Columbine_ was free now and had begun to +drift when Marston seized her rail. He made the gig's painter fast and +left her alongside, because the blocks on the Burton tackle would +clatter if they tried to hoist her in. It was something to feel the +schooner's deck under his galled feet, but there was much to be done +before he could indulge his relief. Although they could not see the tug, +she might have reached the port, and they must pass the three-mile limit +before they would be safe. In the meantime, _Columbine_ was drifting +slowly down the harbor. + +"We must chance hoisting the staysail," Wyndham remarked. "Get it up +handsomely; stop if the chain clinks much." + +The staysail had chain halyards and Marston sent a man aloft with a +grease-swab. For all that, the halyard made some noise and the sail +thrashed in the fresh breeze, until they hauled the sheets and Wyndham +got her round. _Columbine_, with a small triangle of canvas set, stole +down the harbor, and if the port-guards did not keep a keen look out, +she might get away. + +Marston, sitting on the bowsprit loosing the jib, watched the shadowy +wall move back. They were passing the Cuban barque and she was not far +from the end of the mole. _Columbine_ moved faster; he heard the water +ripple at her bows, and the beam of the lighthouse ahead got near. It +was a sector light, screened on one bearing, and they could keep outside +its illumination. + +In a few minutes they would clear the end of the mole, and when the jib +was loose Marston looked aft. Shadowy figures moved about the deck, +getting the canvas ready to hoist. Not long since, he had doubted if +they could steal out of the harbor. When one studied the plan coolly, it +looked ridiculous, but they had tried and he began to hope they would +succeed. Then he turned his head and thrilled as he saw the end of the +mole slip by. + +"Hoist the outer jib," said Wyndham when Marston joined him. "We must be +cautious. The captain's launch has steam up and could catch us yet." + +They got to work. The blocks rattled as the jib went up, but the wind +blew the noise away. The splash at the bows was louder, and Wyndham +waited, measuring the distance from the receding mole. + +"Boom-foresail," he said sharply. + +The tall dark canvas rose and swelled. _Columbine_ began to list and +trailed a white line astern. The mole faded and the light looked farther +off. + +"Mainsail next," said Wyndham. "Hoist handsomely." + +The winch by the mast began to clink; the big sail shook and thudded +while its slack folds blew out, and the Kroos started a wild paddling +song. The tension was over; they were running out to sea and nobody +could hear them now. The song, however, soon got breathless; it was hard +to drag up the heavy canvas while she was before the wind and Wyndham +would not round her to. He braced himself against the wheel and steered +off-shore for the three-mile limit. + +They set the sail, and got more wind as they left the land. She rolled +and foam ran level with her dipping rail. The long main boom lurched up +and groaned; one heard the masts creak and the rigging hum. Her wake ran +back into the dark like a white cataract. + +"Hoist gaff-topsail," said Wyndham. "Trim the squaresail-yard." + +Marston gave him a quick glance and then got to work. He doubted if the +gear would stand the strain, but Harry knew the boat. Although the +Krooboys looked surprised, it was obvious that they trusted him. It cost +them a struggle to cover her with sail, and she drove along almost too +fast to roll. A white wave stood up above her waist, another curled +astern, and the hollow squaresail swelled like a balloon. Although the +sea was smooth, water foamed on board and spray swept the deck in savage +showers. The men crouched behind the bulwarks and when Marston went aft +he got an exhilarating sense of speed. + +"Do you want help?" he asked. "Can you hold her?" + +"I think I can," said Wyndham, with an exultant note in his voice. "We +have sailed some hard races, Bob, but none for a stake like this. If the +masts will stand, she must go to-night!" + +Marston nodded. "Looks as if we ought to win! I imagine the tug is not +in harbor and Don Ramon is comfortably persuaded we're asleep at the +mission. When he finds we're not, we'll be a long way off. I don't +suppose they can march the troops to the port and embark them before +it's dark." He paused and laughed when he resumed: "His promise to send +the port-captain orders to let us go if we told him when we wanted to +sail was clever. He knew, of course, we couldn't do so." + +He sat down on a coil of rope and lighted his pipe. Now the long strain +was over, a reaction had begun. His head was heavy; he felt very tired +and limp. Showers of spray blew about and when he began to get wet he +thought he would go to the cabin and study the chart. It was plain that +they could not leave the schooner at the lagoon; besides a little mental +exercise might rouse him. + +When he lighted the lamp he found he could not see the small figures on +the chart. His eyes and brain were dull, for two nights and a day of +effort and suspense had worn him out. The coast-line, however, was +clearly marked and indicated a number of bays and inlets. So far as +Marston could remember, they were bordered by mangrove swamps with dark +forest behind. Looking up at the compass, which was fixed in the +skylight and allowed the glow of the binnacle lamp to shine through, he +tried to calculate where Wyndham was steering. He could not fix the +course within two or three points and presently gave it up. Then his +head dropped forward, the chart fell on the floor, and sinking down on +the locker cushion, he fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE BAT OWNS DEFEAT + + +At daybreak Wyndham entered the cabin and wakened Marston. The latter +yawned, stretched his arms, and glanced at the compass. + +"It's getting light. I expect I've been asleep," he said. "Where are we +heading?" + +Wyndham picked up the chart and indicated a spot. "This bay. She has +made a good run, although the wind has nearly gone." + +"You know where to find the Bat, I think?" + +"I have a notion," Wyndham replied, indicating another spot some +distance from the coast. "But come up on deck. The sun will soon rise +and I must try to get our bearings." + +Marston went up. The wind had dropped and was now very faint. +_Columbine_, carrying all the sail they could set, scarcely crept across +the smoothly heaving sea. Ahead, a bank of mist hid the low coast; +farther back, vague mountain tops rose against the pale sky. In places, +rippling streaks lined the gray water. The picture had a strangely flat +and lifeless touch that reacted on Marston. He felt dull, and shivered, +although it was not cold. Turning to the galley, he saw a plume of smoke +trail from the bent funnel. + +"I'll get some coffee and then we'll talk," he said. + +Coming back in a few minutes with a jug, he sat down on the +stern-gratings. + +"To begin with, can you hide the boat?" he asked. + +"Not properly. There are one or two creeks, but they'd, so to speak, +invite examination. On the whole, I'd sooner trust an open beach. +_Columbine_'s low hull and masts won't be very distinct against a +background of forest. I'm steering for an anchorage behind some shoals." + +Marston signed agreement. "Larrinaga can't keep the tug searching the +coast; he'll send her back for supplies. I expect he knows how to reach +the Bat." + +"It's possible. He has spies and the German Colonel has, no doubt, made +careful plans. There are two routes; east and west of the high ground, +and I reckon he'll send the _cazadores_ up in two columns. The first +will probably try to get behind the Bat's position." + +"Then, we'll strike one column's line of march," said Marston, +thoughtfully. "In fact, since we must come back, we'll strike it twice." + +"Yes. I see some advantage in this. Our taking their path won't matter +when we go up, because we'll be in front, and we agreed that the time of +our arrival is important. We must give the Bat just long enough to reach +the coast before the soldiers turn back and cut us off. I expect it will +mean our pushing across the hills for some distance. When we cross their +line we'll be in front again." + +Marston signified his agreement by a nod. It was plain that they must +leave much to luck, and lighting his pipe, he leaned against the rail. +As the sun rose the mist ahead began to melt. Wooded heights rose out of +the streaming vapor and presently Wyndham found the marks he wanted and +went off to sleep while Marston kept his anxious watch. It was now +nearly calm. Sometimes a puff of wind ruffled the water; sometimes the +sails hung slack and the ripple at the bows died away. The sun got hot, +the smooth swell shimmered with reflected light, and nothing indicated +when the sea-breeze would begin. + +The calm, however, would not stop the tug, and Marston pictured her +steaming up from San Cristobal with engines thumping hard and the empty +lighters astern. News of _Columbine_'s departure had, no doubt, reached +the mission; bugles would be calling and the _cazadores_ strapping on +their equipment ready to start. Still it was a long march to the harbor +and Marston hardly thought the troops would embark before nightfall. If +wind would come, Wyndham might keep in front of them, but in the +meantime _Columbine_ hardly moved. Marston wondered whether they ought +to hoist out the gig and tow, although the labor would be exhausting and +they could not make much progress. + +A dark streak broke the glittering surface, a cool draught touched +Marston's face, and the slack sails swelled. _Columbine_ began to move, +and presently gathering speed, listed over to the fresh sea-breeze. + +After an hour or two, he wakened Wyndham, who got another bearing and +changed the course. At dusk they steered for the coast and towards +morning anchored behind a shoal. There was nothing but the background to +hide the vessel and Marston knew the risk when they landed with four of +the crew. In the steamy heat of the forest, exertion soon wears a white +man out, and the negroes were needed to carry food and some shelter from +the dew at night. + +After dark on the second evening, they reached the Bat's headquarters, +in the company of a gang of savage negroes. They were exhausted by the +journey, their clothes were torn, and they did not know if the negroes +were their captors or their guides. So far as one could see, the village +looked mean. A few small mud huts stood among mahogany trees and big +cottonwoods. There was no light in the huts, but a fire burned outside +one, and although the night was warm, indistinct figures crouched about +the blaze. They vanished and appeared again when the light leaped up, +and Marston remembered the factory boys squatting round the fires in +Africa. But the Kroo laborers sang, and these fellows were strangely +silent. In fact, a daunting quietness brooded over the spot. + +The Bat's hut was larger than the rest and a rude veranda occupied the +front. There was no furniture except some mats and stools, and a +badly-cleaned paraffin lamp gave a dim light. The Bat sat on a carved +stool and wore a striped tennis jacket over his dirty white clothes. His +legs and feet were bare; his lips stuck out and his nostrils were wide, +and Marston felt that to fear and shrink from him was ridiculous. Yet he +did shrink. Then he noted with some surprise that Father Sebastian +occupied a mat in the corner. Next moment the Bat looked up with a +mocking grin. + +"Why you lib for my village? It d---- poor place," he said. + +"We'll explain that later," Wyndham replied. "In the meantime, why is +Father Sebastian here?" + +"I take care of him," said the Bat. "Fool black man rob his church." He +paused and added with a cruel smile: "Them fool man pay." + +Wyndham turned to the priest. "Will you give us a few minutes, _padre_? +We will send for you soon." + +Father Sebastian got up and the Bat nodded, as if he gave him leave to +go. He went out and Wyndham sat down on a mat. + +"Now," he said, "suppose you drop this negro mummery and talk like an +Englishman. I want to remember you are Rupert Wyndham. No doubt you +meant to keep the missionary for a hostage, but it's not important. I +imagine you did not expect to see us?" + +Rupert's face changed. Something of its coarseness vanished, his lips +straightened, and he looked less like a mulatto. + +"I did expect you. Anyhow, I heard white men were coming, although I +could only account for one," he said and added with an ominous smile: "I +sent to meet you because I did not want you to lose your way." + +Marston knew that in Africa the negroes can signal news across the bush +with remarkable speed. It looked as if Rupert had learned how this was +done and taught his people. + +"Whom did you expect?" he asked. + +"Peters. He is a fool, but he has pluck. Some pluck is needed when one +tries to blackmail me!" + +"I imagine Peters will come later, but not to bargain with you," Marston +said dryly. "We have some grounds for believing he means to sell you to +the Government." + +Rupert's glance got very keen. "Ah," he said, "this is interesting! +Perhaps it explains your visit, which rather puzzled me." + +"Before long you will get some fresh news," Wyndham interposed. +"Larrinaga and the German colonel, with two or three companies of +_cazadores_, have landed and are marching for your village." + +For a few moments Rupert did not move and his face was inscrutable. Then +he looked up and the red veins in his eyes were very plain. + +"Is this true? You will find it dangerous to cheat me!" + +Wyndham told him what they had found out and stated the conclusions they +had drawn. When he stopped Rupert nodded. + +"It looks plausible; you are cleverer than my spies, but we will wait. +If the soldiers have landed, I will soon know." + +"You may wait too long!" + +"If there's a risk, you share it," said Rupert meaningly. "You were rash +when you came to see me without being asked. However, the entrance of +the lagoon is shallow and the surf is often bad. Can Larrinaga find the +channel?" + +"Pepe, the pilot, is with him. I expect he'll steer the tug." + +"Ah!" said Rupert. "I rather trusted Pepe, but he has been bribed. Well, +it is possible he will get his reward. However, I imagine you have made +some plans for me." + +Wyndham braced himself. Although luck had given him strong arguments, +Rupert was bold and cunning. Since his situation looked desperate, he +might try some desperate remedy that would ruin them all. He must be +persuaded to use the obvious way of escape. + +"You can't fight; it's too late," he said. "If you start now and we +push across the hills between the two columns, we may cross one +detachment's line after they have passed. When they find out you have +gone, we will have got a start and ought to travel faster than loaded +soldiers. The schooner is ready and would sail in a few minutes after we +got on board. I don't see another plan, and if you're caught Larrinaga +will shoot you. His men are well equipped and drilled. He has been +getting ready for some time." + +Rupert pondered for a minute or two, and the others waited anxiously. +Then he said, "If I go, I leave people who trusted me in Larrinaga's +power. It is not a very heroic exit." + +"Does this count for much?" + +"On the whole, it does not," said Rupert coolly. "After all, my +followers can take care of themselves. They are an elusive lot and Don +Ramon would soon wear out his troops hunting them in the bush. All the +same, to slink away is something of an anti-climax." + +"We didn't run a big risk in order to help you save your dignity," +Wyndham rejoined, and Rupert gave him a mocking smile. + +"Your object's plain and I owe you nothing. You hope to mend the +family's fortunes, and see an awkward chance of its getting known that a +leader of negro rebels is your relation. However, what do you reckon to +do with me if I go? You proposed, another time, that I should return to +England." + +"We don't propose it now. We'll land you at an American port and I will +try to pay you a small allowance so long as you stay in the United +States. The South might suit you and one could trust the Americans to +see you didn't make trouble there." + +"For guests, you take a bold line. It's rather strange you imagine I'm +forced to agree. You don't seem to understand that there's not much to +prevent my leaving you here and going off with your yacht." + +"We thought about this," Wyndham replied. "If we don't return by a +stipulated time, _Columbine_ will sail and carry a statement I left with +the mate to the British officers at Kingston, Jamaica. The cable is +ready for slipping, the sails are loose, and if strangers try to board +her, the boat will go to sea." + +"One must approve your caution," said Rupert dryly. "Well, I think my +plans were good, and but for two things they might have been carried +out. Our robbing Father Sebastian's church forced Larrinaga to move, but +I was not responsible for this. The other's more important and the +mistake was mine." He turned to Marston as he went on: "When you were +ill with fever I ought to have poisoned you. Instead I tried a cure +civilized doctors would hesitate to use." + +"Ah!" said Marston, "you saved my life?" + +"I don't want thanks. To some extent, I thought it policy. It did not +seem worth while to bother about your antagonism then. Afterwards, when +we tried to drown you, we were too late. You had persuaded your partner; +your work was done. If you had not meddled, I'd have led him where I +wanted." + +"I think that is so, Bob. I owe you much," Wyndham interposed. + +"If Harry had brought me the supplies I needed, I could have fought the +President's troops," Rupert resumed, fixing his bloodshot eyes on +Marston. "Well, you spoiled the plot, and if I'm beaten now, it is not +Larrinaga but you who wins. You ought to be flattered. For such a man +as you are, it's a remarkable victory!" + +There was something sinister in his sneering voice and Wyndham said +sharply, "It will be prudent for you to see Bob does not fall ill again. +If I meet with any misfortune, he will make you accountable." + +Rupert shrugged. "We will let it go and wait until news about the +soldiers arrives. In the meantime, I have some preparations to make. You +can sleep until I come back. Nobody will disturb you." + +"I have a pistol, but don't expect to use it," Wyndham replied. "Your +need of our help is our best protection, and so long as the need is +obvious I think we are pretty safe." + +When Rupert went out they lay down on the mats. Although they were near +physical exhaustion, it was impossible to sleep. The tension they had +borne had not relaxed, because until the news of the soldiers' advance +was signalled the situation was not free from danger. The tug might +strand among the shoals, a strong breeze and breaking surf might stop +her entering the lagoon to land the troops, and delay would give Rupert +time to form fresh plans. Marston did not trust him yet. If Rupert could +escape without their help, he would not leave them at liberty to meddle +again. + +They heard nothing from outside and the hut was very quiet. The silence +began to wear Marston's nerve. He could not wait much longer, but it +might be rash to go out, and he forced himself to smoke, although the +tobacco burned his tongue and his mouth was parched. It looked as if +Rupert were not coming back. Perhaps he had cheated them and gone off +alone. Marston pictured his malicious grin as he stole off through the +bush and left them to wait for Larrinaga. + +At length, however, Rupert returned to the hut. "I have got news," he +said coolly. "Your boys are ready and we will start. Father Sebastian is +an embarrassment; you will see that we cannot leave him behind." + +"Send for him," said Wyndham. "You had better understand that I'm +accountable for his safety." + +Father Sebastian came in, and Wyndham asked if he would promise to say +nothing about their visit and departure with the Bat. + +"No," said Father Sebastian, "I will not promise. I do not know what is +happening, but it looks as if the punishment this man deserves were +overtaking him. I will not help him to escape." + +"You are in his power yet," Wyndham remarked. + +Father Sebastian smiled. "I am an old man and my work in the dreary +swamps is hard. My life is not worth much; there are things I value +more." + +"I was wrong," said Wyndham quietly. "However, since you refuse, we must +take you with us as far as the coast. It would help if you promised not +to run away." + +"I will run away, if it is possible. This man is bad and cruel; I think +he killed your agent, and now he is stealing off, the soldiers must be +coming. I will warn them if I can." + +"After all, is this your business? You are a missionary," Wyndham urged. + +"I am the Church's servant and a citizen of the country the Bat defies. +Perhaps its rule is corrupt, but it is better than his. Its citizens +are Christians and follow the light, although their steps are sometimes +weak; these others would plunge the land in the dark of superstitious +horror. I know, I have long watched the shadow deepen." + +"You are a loyal servant," Wyndham replied. "I am afraid you must come +with us, but we will try to make your journey easy." + +"White man fool man! Black man fix them thing different," Rupert +remarked with his cruel grin. Then he indicated Marston and added in +good English: "This fellow is certainly a fool, but his boyish scruples +have beaten my cleverest schemes." + +He signed them to go out. The Krooboys from the schooner were waiting, +and in a few minutes the party plunged into the woods. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE BAT'S EXIT + + +_Columbine_ rolled heavily on the broken swell and the lamp that swung +from a beam threw a puzzling light about the cabin. Now and then water +splashed on the deck and the slack sails flapped. The fresh breeze had +dropped, although the sea had not yet gone down, and Marston had set the +topsail and the balloon jib. The light canvas would chafe and was not of +much use, but he must reach Kingston as soon as possible. He was +exhausted by physical effort and anxious watching, and when Rupert +replaced the bandage on his comrade's face he leaned back slackly on the +locker seat. + +Wyndham lay in an upper berth, in the faint draught that came down +through the open skylight. A wet cloth covered his face and the cabin +smelt of drugs. He did not move and had not been altogether conscious +for some time. Rupert wore Harry's white clothes and looked, in the +unsteady light, like a rather haggard and jaundiced Englishman. Marston +had noted his firm touch when he fixed the bandage and now he was +methodically putting back some bottles in the medicine chest. When he +finished he bent over the berth for a moment, as if he listened to +Wyndham's breathing. + +"I think he will live," he said. "Although he is very weak, we have got +the fever down, and the wound is not as septic as it was. Anyhow, you +must get him into hospital at Kingston soon." + +Marston remembered afterwards that Rupert had said _you_, not we, and +thought it significant. Now, however, he was dully pondering something +else. + +"If you had not been on board, Harry would not have lived," he said. + +"You're puzzled about my saving him?" Rupert rejoined. "Well, I don't +owe Harry much and I owe you less. On the whole, I hardly think our +relationship accounts for my efforts. A bold experiment is interesting +when somebody else is the subject, and one rather enjoys using one's +skill." + +Since there were only one or two very simple surgical instruments in the +medicine chest, Marston thought Rupert's skill was remarkable. He had +envied him his firm hand and nerve when he cut out the bullet that had +pierced Harry's cheek and jaw and lodged in his neck. As he remembered +the operation, in which he had been forced to help, Marston shuddered. +After a few moments Rupert looked up. + +"You need fresh air. Go and see how she steers. Harry will sleep, but if +it's necessary I will watch." + +Marston went on deck. It was a little cooler and the touch of the dew on +his face was soothing. He put on an oilskin and sat down by the wheel. +The night was clear and the tops of the broken swell shone with +phosphorescence. _Columbine_ rolled about, shaking her masts and booms +with savage jerks. Blocks rattled and now and then the canvas banged. +Yet she forged ahead and kept her course. + +By-and-by Marston lighted his pipe and tried to fix the elusive pictures +of their journey to the coast. To begin with, the night they left the +hut Wyndham owned he had a dose of fever. In the morning he was worse, +but time was valuable and they pushed on. Then, at evening when they +came down from the hills to cut the soldiers' line of march, they saw +two or three _peons_ run out from a ruined village and plunge into the +bush. Another, who was slower and was caught, stated that they had been +left behind to wait until some more troops came up. The village was +empty, but the _peon_ took the party to a hut he had been ordered to +watch. It was getting dark and when they went in Marston struck a match. +Next moment he let it drop, for a white man lay on the floor and +something strange about his attitude indicated that he was dead. Then +Rupert picked up the burning match and lighted a lantern. + +Marston shuddered as his memory recaptured the scene the dim +illumination touched. The dead man had drawn up his legs and his face +was distorted, but Marston did not want to remember this. It was Peters' +face, and he knew the fellow had not met a peaceful death. Father +Sebastian knelt down by the body; Rupert stooped and smiled. + +"You cannot help him and I do not think you will find a mark. I doubt if +he belonged to any flock, but it was not to yours. Anyhow, he is dead, +and you need not bother about how he died." + +"Yet you know," said Father Sebastian, fixing him with steady eyes. + +Rupert nodded. "He meant to sell me, and it is possible he got his +reward, although he did not enjoy it long. One could philosophize about +it, but I leave this to you. Well, I think we will not wait until his +friends arrive." + +"I will wait," said Father Sebastian, firmly. "It is a duty to bury the +dead." + +Rupert shrugged and looked at Marston. Wyndham, shivering with ague, had +sat down and rested his head in his hands, as if he did not know what +was going on. + +"Watching the _padre_ did not run off has cost us some time," Rupert +remarked. "However, it would be awkward if he sent the next detachment +of _cazadores_ after us. I expect he knows how I would meet the +difficulty." + +"We will leave you and not bother you for a promise," Marston said to +Father Sebastian, who gave him his hand. + +"There is much that puzzles me and I do not know why you help this bad +man to escape, but I feel you are honest," he said. "Sometimes one must +trust without understanding." He lifted his hand solemnly. "_Vaya con +Dios!_" + +Then they went out and left him in the dark with Peters. + +Marston did not know if Father Sebastian sent the soldiers after them, +but although he thought he did he bore him no grudge. The man was +staunch, and from his point of view, was justified. In the morning, +Rupert declared they must push on faster, and their march became a race +for the coast. Now Marston could think about it coolly, he imagined +Rupert feared some of the negroes had joined Larrinaga and were +signalling news of the party's flight. Wyndham stumbled as they forced +their way savagely in scorching heat across reedy swamps and through +tangled bush, but he would not be carried and this would have delayed +them dangerously. Marston recaptured with strange vividness the last +scene. + +It was dark when they broke out of the forest and saw the sea sparkle +under a half-moon. The land-breeze blew fresh, and now and then belts of +warm mist trailed across the beach. There were no mangroves, the beach +was flat and open, but they were some distance off the spot where the +schooner lay and they labored across the soft sand. Marston owned that +the suspense had shaken his nerve. He was desperately anxious to get on +board before he was stopped, but Wyndham could hardly walk. For +half-an-hour Marston dragged him along. + +When they were nearly level with the schooner, indistinct figures ran +out from the bush. Wyndham turned, and shaking off Marston, drew his +pistol. He fired two or three shots, but since the distance was long +Marston thought he rather expected to warn the crew than stop their +pursuers. The latter did not stop and Marston dragged Wyndham on again. +A boat was coming, but he doubted if they could reach it before the +others arrived. The sand was soft, he was exhausted, and Wyndham lurched +about. Sometimes he nearly pulled Marston down. + +Shots were fired behind them and bullets hummed overhead. The negroes +were running hard close in front, and the boat plunged into the belt of +surf. Then Wyndham fell and pulled Marston over. When he fell Marston +got some sand in his eyes and could hardly see. Somebody seized his arm +and dragged him to his feet; men were splashing in the foam about the +boat. He stuck to Harry but did not know how they got on board. Then he +felt the boat plunge and saw the half-naked Kroos were pulling for +their lives. Wyndham leaned against him and Marston felt his jacket +getting wet; he afterwards found that it was wet by blood. He put Harry +down in the stern-sheets and seized the nearest Krooboy's oar, thrusting +while the other pulled. + +When they got on board the schooner the sails were going up and nobody +else was hit. Marston and Rupert carried Wyndham to the cabin and +Marston remembered his horror when they put him in his berth. A glancing +bullet, turning over endways, had mangled the lower part of his face. + +This, however, was some days since and Marston was getting over the +shock. Rupert had told him Harry would live, although he would always +wear the scar. + +By-and-by Marston got up and walked about the deck. He dared not think +about Flora yet; he must navigate _Columbine_ to Kingston and get +Wyndham into hospital. There was a little more wind now and the damp +sails did not shake, but the rolling and lurching stopped the schooner. +Although it was important to make Kingston soon, one could do nothing to +help their progress and Marston presently returned to the wheel. He +waited for a time, because he did not want to talk to Rupert. His +shrinking from the fellow had not lessened, but he was very tired and +limp, and at length he went down and got into his bunk. + +In the morning the breeze was fresh and _Columbine_ threw the spray +about as she plunged across the white combers. At noon, Marston got his +sextant to take the sun and sat for some minutes on the skylight +calculating the schooner's position. Then he looked up and saw Rupert. + +"I think the wind will hold," said the latter. "When do you expect to +arrive?" + +Marston told him and added: "You are not on the crew list and since +Kingston's a British port we will have to comply with the usual +formalities. We must think of a way of accounting for your being on +board." He paused and added with a touch of embarrassment: "It may be +some time before the doctors let me take Harry home and I don't +know----" + +"You don't know what to do about me?" Rupert suggested with the smile +Marston disliked. "Well, suppose you wait until you get there. I imagine +I won't bother you much. In the meantime, you haven't hauled your +patent-log. Let's see what distance it marks." + +_Columbine_'s log was old-fashioned. In order to read the dial it was +necessary to bring the torpedo-shaped instrument on board, and Rupert, +jumping on a grating, put his foot on the low taffrail as he began to +haul the line. The line was long, the log, with its spiral vanes, +offered some resistance, and Marston, knowing it would be a minute or +two before Rupert lifted it out of the water, studied the compass. +Looking round, he saw the other's bent figure outlined against the +foaming wake; and then he glanced ahead. The wind was fresh and +_Columbine_ sailed fast. White combers rolled up to windward and as she +plunged across their tops she threw up clouds of spray. + +In about a minute, Marston looked aft again and braced himself as he +gazed at the slanted rail. He had heard no splash or cry, but Rupert had +gone. He shouted, and signed to the Kroo steersman, who pulled round the +wheel. _Columbine_ shipped some water as, with sails flapping and +banging, she came head to wind. The long booms jerked, blocks and ropes +whipped to and fro, and the crew began to run about the deck. One or two +hauled down the foresail, one or two trimmed the jibs aback, and Marston +helped the others at the Burton tackle to hoist out the gig. + +He jumped on board as she took the water. Four excited negroes leaped +down from the schooner's bulwarks, and a white sea washed across the +bows as they shoved her off. They got away without damage, and pulled +obliquely to leeward while Marston tried to calculate how far +_Columbine_ had gone since he last saw Rupert. It was necessary to be +accurate, because, except when the combers picked up the boat, he could +see nothing but the white tops of the waves. Besides, rowing on an angry +sea is hard and the men would soon get exhausted. Since they could not +search long, he must reach the proper spot. + +No floating object tossed among the foam, and after half an hour he gave +it up. Rupert Wyndham had gone; he was old, and a good swimmer could not +have lived long in such a sea, because a man, buffeted by breaking +waves, may drown before he sinks. The boat had shipped much water, the +crew were worn out, and had some trouble to row back to _Columbine_. +When they had hoisted in the gig and put the schooner on her course, +Marston went to the cabin and mixed a drink. He was wet, his hands +shook, and his arms ached, for he had been forced to use his strength +while he labored with the big sculling oar. + +Moreover, he was strangely disturbed. He had shrunk from Rupert Wyndham +with half-instinctive repulsion. In one sense, Rupert's drowning would +relieve him and Wyndham from an awkward responsibility. Marston +admitted that he had recognized this, although he hoped he had not +allowed it to influence him. Indeed, because he did not like Rupert, he +had made sterner efforts to reach the spot where he had gone overboard; +but he wondered whether he had perhaps afterwards neglected means he +might have used had the man been his friend. On the whole, he did not +think so, and his tormenting doubts began to vanish. For all that, he +was glad Wyndham was asleep. + +When, some hours later, Marston went back to the cabin Wyndham's eyes +were open. The lower part of his face was covered by the bandage and he +could not talk, but Marston thought he missed Rupert and was curious. +Although Harry was very weak, Marston felt he had better tell him now. +If he did not, his unsatisfied curiosity might keep him restless and +bring the fever back. + +"I know what you want to ask," he said quietly. "Rupert's not here. He +fell overboard when he was hauling up the log." + +Wyndham's eyelids flickered and his hand moved under the blanket, but +this was the only sign he gave. + +"She was rolling," Marston went on. "He stood with his foot on the +taffrail, leaning out to gather in the line. You see, there was nothing +to save him if he lost his balance----" + +He stopped, for he saw Wyndham was looking at him very hard. Then he +resumed: "I think he did lose his balance, but I don't know. I was +looking forward, wondering whether we ought to haul down a reef, and +none of the boys saw him fall. There was not a splash." + +A feeble movement of Wyndham's head urged him to go on. + +"We got the gig over soon, but the boat had been going fast and +head-reached some distance when we brought her round. Then there was a +confused sea." + +Marston saw Wyndham understood; he need not labor his explanation, but +he wished Harry could talk. There was an assurance he wanted his comrade +to give; Harry knew how he had felt about Rupert. + +"I think I did my best," he said awkwardly. "She nearly capsized once or +twice; the sea was hollow and curled before you expected. The water on +board was getting deep, and we couldn't bale." + +A very faint smile flickered in Wyndham's eyes and Marston was conscious +of keen relief. Harry had understood his embarrassment and was +satisfied. To hint at regret would be useless cant; there was nothing +more to be said. For all that, Marston was glad when a Krooboy called +him on deck. It was blowing fresher and he gave some orders and occupied +himself by shortening sail. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FRESH START + + +Dusk had fallen and rows of lights twinkled along the walls at the +river-mouth. Tall chimneys and warehouses rose against the sky, there +was a biting wind, and Marston shivered at the door of the liner's +smoking-room. Her engines throbbed slackly as she steamed in with the +tide, past the dark shapes of anchored vessels. A mile or two ahead, +bright streaks, in which the separate lights were merged, marked the +landing stages, and Marston looked for the red, white, and green +triangle that would indicate the company's tug. For his comrade's sake, +he was illogically relieved because he could not see her yet, although +the moment he dreaded could not be put off long. + +After a time, he went back into the smoking room. Wyndham, wearing a +heavy coat, lounged on a settee. He was very thin and his face was +haggard, but this was not all. His mouth was distorted, for one side +drooped, giving him a strange look of vacant amusement. The contrast +between this and the melancholy in his eyes was rather horrible. Marston +was getting used to the disfigurement, but he had seen that strangers +were jarred. Besides, Wyndham would never again articulate clearly. His +talk was slow and awkward, and the Kingston doctor doubted if he would +altogether get back his strength. + +"Ten minutes yet; I don't see the tug," said Marston. "Shall I help you +out on deck when she comes?" + +Wyndham smiled and answered with the deliberation he was forced to use: +"There wouldn't be much use in that, Bob. I heard them fixing the big +gangway lights." + +Marston knew he was thinking about Flora and the shock she must get. It +was going to be hard for Flora; in fact, it was hard for both. + +"She knows," he said quietly. "I was frank with Mabel and told her all +before the doctor would let you write." + +"Thanks! Flora has pluck, but the pluck that hides a hurt does not cure +it." + +"It goes some way," said Marston. "When Flora sees you, I don't think +she will see the scar." + +Then one or two of the passengers came in, and they waited until the +engines stopped and they heard the tug's paddles. Wyndham got on his +feet awkwardly and waved back Marston, who had meant to give him his +arm. His face was very pinched, but his eyes were bright, and as they +went out he forced a smile. + +A big electric lamp hung from the spar-deck and threw down a searching +light. The tug's gangway was run out and people began to come on board. +Marston saw Mabel and his heart beat with mixed emotions as he noted her +black dress, for a cablegram had told him Mrs. Hilliard was dead. He was +unselfishly sorry for Mabel, but she had met the last claim of duty and +he had waited long. + +Then Flora stepped down from the gangway and went straight across the +deck to Wyndham, who stood under the lamp. The strong light touched +their faces and Marston imagined the corners of Flora's mouth twitched. +This was all; her step was swift and eager and her eyes shone with +tender welcome. She was very brave. Marston saw no pity in her look; +there was nothing but gladness and love. + +"My dear!" she cried, and Wyndham took her in his feeble arms. + +A few moments afterwards Mabel gave Marston her hand and when he had +gazed at her his glance rested on her black dress. + +"I'm sorry. Very sorry; I think you understand!" + +"I know, Bob," said Mabel. "You thought about me; you don't think much +about yourself. But I must speak to Harry." + +She left him and he was filled with tenderness and pride as he watched +her greet Wyndham. Her smile was frank and her voice was sympathetic, +but one got no hint of pity that might jar a sensitive nerve. Mabel +struck the right note, and Marston knew it was not all good-breeding +that guided her. He loved her for the human kindness she gave his +comrade. + +When they went down the gangway Wyndham was forced to lean on Marston's +arm. A car was waiting at the floating bridge that led to the pier-head +and Marston helped Wyndham in. + +"I'll go to the office early and report to you in the evening," he said. +"You must take things easy and not bother at all." + +Flora and Chisholm got in and when they drove off Marston took Mabel's +hand. + +"If you don't mind, we'll walk to the top. I want to look about and +realize I'm at home. I feel like a boy who has just come back from his +first term at school." + +"Was it very hard, Bob?" Mabel asked, sympathetically. + +Marston smiled. "It was foreign, if you understand, and that was worse. +Plots, gloom, sickness, and mystery that made you savage because you +didn't know if you were being cleverly cheated or not. Sometimes I half +believed the Bat was a magician. In fact, it was all from which a sober +fellow revolts." + +"Yet you were strong enough to carry out the job you hated. That is +much, Bob." + +Marston looked down the river. Long rows of lights pricked out the dock +walls that narrowed to a dark gap in the distance. Low constellations +marked the ferry landing stages, and in the stream other lights, colored +green and red, moved swiftly up and down. In the background were misty +towers and spires. Whistles shrieked and one heard the splash of paddles +and the throb of propellers, for the commerce of two cities floated up +on the tide. Bob's imagination was sometimes dull, but the river noises +moved him then. He got a hint of ordered effort and useful activity. +Sober men brought home the ships and controlled the trade that extended +across the world. Perhaps, if one looked for it with understanding, +there was a romance about this far-spread trade, but of one kind of +romance Bob had had enough. + +"We will go to the car," he said presently, with quiet happiness. "I've +got back and you are with me. I have all I want. Coming up channel, my +satisfaction was half spoiled; the trouble waiting Flora haunted me. +Then, to some extent, I felt I hadn't justified her trust. I'd promised +to see Harry out, and I brought him home like that." + +"If you had not been very staunch, he might not have come home at all. +But will he always be disfigured?" + +"The mark of the bullet won't wear off and he will never talk easily. +For the rest, the Kingston doctor wasn't very encouraging. He said Harry +had obviously borne a crushing strain for long, and now it had broken +him, we mustn't look for a quick recovery. Still he was young and proper +treatment in England would help. Well, his meeting Flora is over and +I've got rid of a load." + +"You ought not to have been afraid for Flora." + +"I see this now; she was wonderful," Marston agreed. "Human nature's +rather mixed and some is pretty base metal, but you feel that Flora's +almost without alloy." + +Mabel smiled. "I like you when you're romantic, Bob; but even then +you're cautious." + +"Oh, well," said Marston. "After all, I only know one girl who is pure +gold." + +"Now you're quite extravagant, but you're very nice indeed," Mabel +replied, and their car rolled up. + +Next evening Mabel went with Bob to Wyndham's small house. Wyndham, +looking pale and jaded, occupied an easy chair by the fire and Mabel +ordered him not to get up. + +"I have been to the office and all is going well," Marston remarked. +"Next week you can come down for perhaps an hour a day. We won't need +you longer and I mean to be firm. Nevis tells me he won't stay. I +imagine he doesn't approve my methods, but I'd rather expected this and +think I've got a better man." + +"If you're satisfied----" said Wyndham, smiling. "Since Nevis began at +the office, I suppose you feel he belongs to the old state of things." + +Marston looked half embarrassed, but nodded. "I did feel something like +that. A new man is better when you make a fresh start on another line. +However, I'm not going to bother about business; I've told you enough to +put your mind at rest. There's something much more important, Mabel has +agreed to marry me next month." + +Flora kissed Mabel and for a time they engaged in happy talk. Then +Marston got up. + +"We are going to the drawing-room. It's a long time since I heard good +music and Mabel said she'd play." + +"I didn't know you liked music much, Bob," Flora remarked. + +"All the same, I do like it," Marston rejoined. "It's true I've been to +concerts that bored me; but all music's charming when Mabel plays." + +Flora let them go and then looked at Wyndham. "A wedding present's the +next thing, Harry, and it will need some thought. What can we give +them, who have given us so much?" + +Wyndham smiled. "I imagine Bob would be content with our gratitude, +although he'd feel badly embarrassed if you made it too plain." His +smile, however vanished as he resumed: "Anyhow, I shall never wipe out +my debt. There are not many like Bob." + +He mused for a few moments and went on: "I remember his telling me +Rupert was drowned. My face was bandaged; I couldn't speak and was too +weak to move. Bob could only see my eyes, and as he watched them I knew +what he thought. Because he had hated Rupert from the beginning, he was +desperately anxious to persuade me he had done his best. The thing was, +of course, ridiculous. Bob being the man he is, one could not doubt him. +It was unthinkable to imagine he had not used every effort, although the +sea was rough and he risked a capsize. The boat was half swamped when he +brought her back. Yet I imagine he was more disturbed than me." + +"I think Bob did not see him fall overboard?" + +"No," said Wyndham. "Rupert may have lost his balance, but I doubt. We +were not far from Kingston and when we got there he must, so to speak, +resume a white man's responsibilities and begin life again. He had lived +like a savage, commanding fear and using power that few civilized rulers +know; but all that had gone and he was proud." + +"But you were disturbed when Bob told you," Flora urged. + +"At first, I was conscious of relief. I thought Rupert had seen the only +way out of the tangle. Before he went, I'd begun to feel the situation +was impossible for us all. Afterwards, I saw that my greedy ambition +had helped to involve us and he had borne the punishment. Had he not +thought he could get supplies from me, he would not have plotted the +rebellion." + +Flora hesitated for a moment, and then said, "When Bob came in the +morning to ask if you had slept, I kept him a few minutes and we talked +about this. He declared your engaging to supply the goods was not +important, because if you had refused, Rupert could have got all he +needed from Peters or somebody else, so long as he was willing to give a +high price." + +"It's possible. After all, Bob is cleverer than people sometimes think, +and I see an explanation for Peters' vindictive pursuit: I'd stopped his +trading with Rupert and refused him for a partner. Well, he paid, and +Rupert paid, and I owe my escape to Bob." + +"You made reparation," said Flora gently. + +"I tried; when I was found out. It was rather late then, and Bob carried +much of the load. But I did not get off free. I spent days of torment, +thinking about what you must bear, before I resigned myself to coming +home, broken in body, to be a burden to you." + +Flora's eyes shone. "Oh, my dear! You have come home and that's all that +matters. Besides, you'll get well in England; your strength will +return." + +"It may be long," said Wyndham quietly. "I cannot grumble for myself; +I'm thinking about Bob. It looks as if he must carry my load and his, +but he won't growl. He's strong and his pluck's unbreakable. Pluck and +honesty like Bob's are worth more than talent." + +He paused, and smiled when he resumed: "Well, while I try not to lose +patience, waiting, and wondering whether I'll be fit to work again, +he'll build a new Wyndhams' on a surer foundation than I could have +laid. I can see him, stopping now and then with his puzzled look, but +not stopping long. Bob's way is to go on, straight and steadfastly." + +"We owe him much," said Flora. "Your debt is mine." + +Then there were steps in the passage and the others came in. Mabel +blushed when she saw Flora's smile. + +"After all, it looks as if music did bore Bob," Flora remarked. "We +didn't hear you playing long." + +"We talked," said Mabel, with a frank glance. "There was much to talk +about and all was rather wonderful. Perhaps this looks extravagant, but +I don't think it is." + +"Hold fast to your persuasion," said Flora gently. "It will take you +far. Love conquers many doubts and troubles." + +"Mabel's troubles ought not to be numerous," Wyndham interposed. "She is +going to marry my partner; the best man I know." + +Marston's face got red, but Mabel laughed, a soft, happy laugh. + +"I really think Bob stands alone," she said. "He's like nobody else and +I'm sure there's nobody like him." + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected. + +In Part I, Chapter VIII, "They are _bete_, the _Mestizos_" was changed +to "They are _bête_, the _Mestizos_". + +In Part I, Chapter IX, a period was changed to a comma after "if the +goods are his or the other's". + +In Part I, Chapter X, a period was changed to a comma after "let your +imagination carry you away". + +In Part I, Chapter XI, periods were changed to commas after "satisfied +in one way" and "Harry's business standing". + +In Part II, Chapter I, a period was changed to a comma after "your next +balance sheet won't be good". + +In Part II, Chapter IV, "he had a invested a good sum" was changed to +"he had invested a good sum", and a missing quotation mark was added +after "started inland from the Salinas coast of the Caribbean." + +In Part III, Chapter II, "Dark came quicky at the lagoon" was changed to +"Dark came quickly at the lagoon". + +In Part III, Chapter III, "You sent for me. don't know if I approve" was +changed to "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve". + +In Part III, Chapter VIII, a period was changed to a comma after "Don +Ramon's hint was plain". + +In Part III, Chapter IX, "He shouted and Marsten clenched his fist" was +changed to "He shouted and Marston clenched his fist", and a period was +changed to a question mark after "Can you hold her". + +In addition, the heading for WYNDHAM'S PAL which originally followed the +heading for PART I: THE LURE OF AMBITION has been moved to precede it. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wyndham's Pal, by Harold Bindloss + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYNDHAM'S PAL *** + +***** This file should be named 39349-8.txt or 39349-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/4/39349/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Wyndham's Pal + +Author: Harold Bindloss + +Release Date: April 2, 2012 [EBook #39349] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYNDHAM'S PAL *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="408" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;"> +<img src="images/front.jpg" width="388" height="600" alt="It looked as if the Mulatto knew this. Page 82 +Wyndhams Pal." title="" /> +</div> +<p class="caption2">It looked as if the Mulatto knew this.</p> +<p class="caption3"><a href="#mulatto">Page 82</a><br /> +Wyndhams Pal.</p> + +<hr class="thin" /> + +<h1>WYNDHAM'S PAL</h1> + +<p class="center bigtext"><span class="smcap">By HAROLD BINDLOSS</span></p> + +<p class="center smalltext"><span class="smcap">Author of</span><br /> +<i>"The Buccaneer Farmer," "The Girl from Keller's,"<br /> +"Brandon of the Engineers," etc.</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 169px;"> +<img src="images/logo.png" width="169" height="180" alt="decorative element" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center smalltext">WITH FRONTISPIECE</p> + +<p class="center">A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +<span style="word-spacing: 4em;">Publishers New</span> York</p> + +<p class="center smalltext">Published by arrangement with Frederick A. Stokes Company</p> + +<p class="center smalltext">COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND UNDER THE TITLE "WYNDHAM'S PARTNER"</p> + +<p class="center smalltext">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED</p> + +<p class="center smalltext">PRINTED IN U. S. A.</p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> +<table class="figcenter" border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="bookpart">PART I—THE LURE OF AMBITION</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum smalltext">CHAPTER</td> +<td class="chapname smalltext"> </td> +<td class="chappage smalltext">PAGE</td> +</tr><tr> +<td class="chapnum">I</td> +<td class="chapname">The Commodore's Cup</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_I">3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">II</td> +<td class="chapname">Moonlight and Glamour</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_II">14</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">III</td> +<td class="chapname">Chisholm's Persuasion</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_III">26</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IV</td> +<td class="chapname">The Man Who Vanished</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_IV">35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">V</td> +<td class="chapname">The Tornado</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_V">45</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VI</td> +<td class="chapname">The Middle Passage</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_VI">54</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VII</td> +<td class="chapname">The Tow</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_VII">64</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VIII</td> +<td class="chapname">The Lagoon</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_VIII">74</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IX</td> +<td class="chapname">Don Felix's Revolt</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_IX">85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">X</td> +<td class="chapname">Marston Uses His Power</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_X">97</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">XI</td> +<td class="chapname">Marston Goes to Sea</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_I_XI">107</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="bookpart">PART II—WYNDHAM CLAIMS HIS REWARD</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">I</td> +<td class="chapname">Mabel Ponders</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_I">121</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">II</td> +<td class="chapname">Mabel's Pearls</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_II">131</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">III</td> +<td class="chapname">Peters' Offer</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_III">142</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IV</td> +<td class="chapname">The Lost Explorers</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_IV">152</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">V</td> +<td class="chapname">Wyndham Changes His Plan</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_V">161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VI</td> +<td class="chapname">Peters Renews His Offer</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_VI">171</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VII</td> +<td class="chapname">Wyndham Pleads Guilty</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_VII">180</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VIII</td> +<td class="chapname">Up Hill</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_II_VIII">190</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="3" class="bookpart">PART III--REPARATION</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">I</td> +<td class="chapname">Wyndham Pays Duty</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_I">203</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">II</td> +<td class="chapname">Marston Gets a Warning</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_II">213</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">III</td> +<td class="chapname">Wyndham Tries Persuasion</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_III">223</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IV</td> +<td class="chapname">Wyndham Finds a Clew</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_IV">232</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">V</td> +<td class="chapname">Don Luis' Breakfast Party</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_V">242</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VI</td> +<td class="chapname">A Sail in the Dark</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_VI">251</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VII</td> +<td class="chapname">The Tug</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_VII">260</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">VIII</td> +<td class="chapname">At the Mission</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_VIII">271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">IX</td> +<td class="chapname"><em class="uncapped">Columbine</em> Steals Away</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_IX">280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">X</td> +<td class="chapname">The Bat Owns Defeat</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_X">288</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">XI</td> +<td class="chapname">The Bat's Exit</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_XI">299</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="chapnum">XII</td> +<td class="chapname">The Fresh Start</td> +<td class="chappage"><a href="#CHAPTER_III_XII">308</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<h2><a name="WYNDHAMS_PAL" id="WYNDHAMS_PAL"></a>WYNDHAM'S PAL</h2> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<h2 class="chapterone"><a name="PART_I" id="PART_I"></a>PART I<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE LURE OF AMBITION</span></h2> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I_I" id="CHAPTER_I_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE COMMODORE'S CUP</span></h2> + + +<p>The breeze had dropped as the tide ebbed, and <i>Red Rose</i> plunged +languidly across the shining swell. Faint mist obscured the horizon and +the yachts engaged in the fifty-mile race had vanished, although Wyndham +thought he had not long since distinguished a sail in the distance. He +was curious about this because if he had seen canvas it was <i>Deva</i>'s, +and her skipper had probably seen <i>Red Rose</i>. The rest of the fleet was +scattered about to the north. Wyndham had noted their positions +carefully before the haze rolled up. He wanted to win and meant to leave +nothing to chance.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the yacht crept slowly through the sparkling water, +close-hauled to a light wind that Wyndham knew would not last. Her +canvas, tapering in a tall white pyramid, swayed with a regular heave +against the sky. In her shadow, the sea was a cool, luminous green, but +the sun was hot and Wyndham had taken off his coat. He wore a white +jersey, blue trousers, and very neat white shoes. His age was +twenty-six, his figure was thin but athletic, and the molding of his +face was good. On the whole, he was a handsome man and was generally +marked by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> a careless, twinkling smile. The smile, however, was to some +extent deceptive, and at times his blue eyes were hard. Wyndham was +popular; he had a way of inspiring confidence, and knew and used his +talent.</p> + +<p>Marston, who sat on the yacht's coaming, splicing a rope, trusted +Wyndham far. Marston's round face was burned red and generally wore a +look of tranquil good-humor; his mouth was large and his eyes were calm. +People thought him dull and he was not clever, but Wyndham knew his +comrade's stability. Although Bob was honest and trustful, he was firm. +It was characteristic that the splice he slowly made was very neat.</p> + +<p>Their paid hand was occupied at the clanking pump, for <i>Red Rose</i> had +shipped some water while the breeze was fresh. This was not remarkable, +since the boat was small, but Wyndham knew, though Marston did not, that +a quantity of water had come in between her working planks. She was old +and needed repairs Wyndham could not afford. For all that, he hoped to +win the Commodore's cup. He had particular grounds for wanting the cup, +and Wyndham's habit was to get what he wanted.</p> + +<p>"I think the splice will stand," Marston said, throwing down the rope.</p> + +<p>"Your work does stand," Wyndham remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Marston, deprecatingly, "I'm slow, but I like a good +job. Saves time in the end, because you needn't do the thing again."</p> + +<p>"You're a philosopher, Bob. My plan is generally hit or miss. But can +you see <i>Deva</i>?"</p> + +<p>Marston searched the horizon. The gently heaving sea was empty and <i>Red +Rose</i> alone in a misty circle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> three or four miles across. Except for a +few razor-bills, nothing but the ripple she trailed broke the reflection +of the calm sky. Then his glance, traveling north, stopped and fixed on +something faintly distinguishable against the thin mist.</p> + +<p>"No," he said, "I don't see her. Thought I did some time since but she's +faded. What's that in the distance on our starboard bow?"</p> + +<p>"It's hard to tell. Might be a big black-backed gull resting on the +water. The misty light magnifies things."</p> + +<p>"Shall I get the glasses?"</p> + +<p>"Not unless you want them. They're under the stuff we stowed away in the +locker aft. If Charley has finished pumping, you might help him get out +the spinnaker. We'll have the wind fair when the flood begins to run."</p> + +<p>Marston and the fisher-lad vanished down the forecastle hatch, and +Wyndham studied the distant object. He did not yet need the sail the +others had gone for, but he was afraid of Charley's keen eyes. A buoy +indicating a shoal was not far off and the sailing directions for the +race stated that all marks of this kind must be kept on the port hand, +but Wyndham knew the coast and imagined the tide was still ebbing in a +neighboring river mouth. The main stream ran north and would carry the +boats off their course, but near the shore another stream ran west +across some wide shoals. If he could steer <i>Red Rose</i> into this current, +it would help her on while her rivals, farther off the land, drifted +back. When the others came up with the sail Wyndham wondered whether +Marston would ask for the chart, but he did not. The object<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> they had +seen had vanished, for although the wind was light the boat slowly +forged ahead. The color of the smooth undulations indicated that the +depth got less.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if we were near West Hodden sand," Marston remarked. "They had +a dispute at the committee about keeping us outside the bank. Makes a +longer run, but some of the deep boats might have touched bottom if +they'd tried to cross at low-water. Anyhow, it doesn't matter, so long +as we all keep out."</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded and began to talk about something else.</p> + +<p>"I hope we'll get fine weather, because I need bracing up. When you have +not much money, business is a grind and I'm rather young to carry the +responsibilities of the house. Things might have been easier, had Jim +Wyndham not died two or three days after he fell ill."</p> + +<p>Marston knew something about this. Wyndham Brothers was a small +old-fashioned firm and Harry had recently taken control on his uncle's +sudden death. James Wyndham was extravagant and Marston imagined he had +left his affairs involved. Marston had no occupation and all the money +he needed. Moreover, he was Harry's friend.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "if you're short of capital, I think some could be got. +Sound investments don't pay much, and now and then I feel I'd like a +venture."</p> + +<p>"You're a good sort, Bob. For all that, you had better leave business +alone, because you would get robbed. Of course, if I saw a safe and +profitable speculation, I might let you join, but just now I'm occupied +trying to put things straight. Some are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> badly tangled. I used to think +I could carve my way to fortune if I got a chance, but so far it's been +my luck to use broken tools."</p> + +<p>Marston thought this was so. Harry was a good shot and racing skipper, +but he had never had a first-class gun or boat. Still, he used the +make-shifts well and sometimes beat better men.</p> + +<p>"Yours is a pretty old house, isn't it?" Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>"Wyndhams' was founded in the days of the slavers and privateers and has +traded in West Africa and South America ever since. The house was +famous, but its decline began when steamers knocked out the sailing +ships. We stuck to the old vessels and own one or two small schooners +yet, though they're only used for collecting cargo at beaches steamboats +do not touch. Some of the documents I've recently studied tell a +romantic tale. The Wyndhams were all adventurers and a number did not +die in bed. One or two vanished abroad. As perhaps you know, my uncle +Rupert did."</p> + +<p>"I heard something about this," said Marston. "What happened?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows. He left the West Indian factory; sailed off in a canoe +and was not seen again. Books and money were in order and his health was +pretty good. There was no explanation; he vanished, that's all. I saw +him once in England and thought him a sober business man. One got no +hint of wildness, but the house's records indicate a vein of romantic +extravagance in my ancestors. For all that, my father was a quiet +country parson and I have felt nothing of the kind."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span>Marston pondered. He knew Harry Wyndham rather well and had noted, in +moments of excitement and strain, a curious recklessness that was +perhaps not altogether normal. For example, there was the race when <i>Red +Rose</i> and another yacht met close-hauled. <i>Red Rose</i> was on the port +tack, and the rule was she must give way, but, until the last minute, +Harry sat unmoved at the tiller. Marston remembered the piled-up foam +about the plunging hulls as the yachts converged, the slanted pyramids +of sail that looked as if they must shock, and the horrible tension he +had felt. Then, when collision was imminent, Wyndham gave the other room +and afterwards laughed.</p> + +<p>"I was tempted to find out how it would feel if we rammed her," he +confessed.</p> + +<p>This, however, was some time since, and Marston did not dwell on the +incident. His temperament was essentially normal.</p> + +<p>"No sign of a breeze from the east yet," he said.</p> + +<p>"All the same, it will come," Wyndham rejoined.</p> + +<p>Marston looked about. The sun was getting low and it was nearly calm. +Now and then the topsail flapped and the mainsail hung slack. Blocks +rattled as the heavy boom jerked about. The swell was smooth and in +color a curious shining green, as if the light were reflected through it +from beneath. It looked as if they were crossing a big sand, but Marston +did not sound. Harry knew the coast, and the sailing directions required +them to keep outside the shoals.</p> + +<p>In the distance a steamer's smoke trailed across the sky; one heard her +engines beat with a monotonous rhythm. In front, the mist was melting +and vague gray hills were faintly distinguishable. The yacht's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> deck was +damp, but for the rolling she hardly moved.</p> + +<p>"We had better get some food," said Marston. "I'll light the stove."</p> + +<p>He went to the cabin and when, after the rude meal, they lounged and +smoked, the mist suddenly rolled away. Long hills, with woods among +their folds, ran back on the port hand; in the distance, a big black +headland cut against the sunset. The water astern was hazy and dotted by +sails. It was now a glassy calm.</p> + +<p>"We're nearer the coast than I reckoned, but the ebb has given us a big +lift," Marston observed.</p> + +<p>"The rest are a long way back, although I think they're moving."</p> + +<p>"They've got the breeze and will bring it up," said Wyndham. "Hoist the +spinnaker."</p> + +<p>For the next few minutes Marston and the paid hand were occupied with +the big triangular sail, which extended from the masthead to the end of +a boom they thrust over the boat's side. A British yacht's spinnaker is +not fitted with a gaff. At first the spinnaker hung slack, but presently +lifted in gentle curves; then the water splashed against the planks and +<i>Red Rose</i> began to move. She gathered speed. There was a humming noise +astern, mast and rigging creaked, and foam leaped at the bows. It got +cold, white ripples streaked the sea, and the wake ran back in a foaming +wedge. The spinnaker swelled like a balloon and, with the tall mainsail +on the other side, dwarfed the speeding hull.</p> + +<p>The sun dipped, the dark sea stood up in ridges above <i>Red Rose</i>'s rail, +spray began to fly, and one heard the rush of wind and groaning of +spars. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> boat yawed about and steering needed skill, since, if +Wyndham let her swerve, spinnaker or mainsail would swing across and +mast or boom would go. For all that, he risked a glance over his +shoulder now and then. Some of the boats were coming up; they were +bigger craft and gave <i>Red Rose</i> time by the handicap. She, however, +gave time to others, and must save it in order to win.</p> + +<p>Wyndham let go while the sea got rough, for the flood tide now ran +against the freshening wind. While he swayed with the tiller she plunged +and rolled about, lifting her bows out of boiling foam and sometimes +burying them deep. Water flowed across her deck and presently began to +splash beneath the cockpit floor, and Charley started the clanking pump. +A full moon had risen and two big boats, with canvas that cut black +against the silver light, were getting near.</p> + +<p>"I think we'll save our time," Wyndham said.</p> + +<p>Marston looked at the high topsail and bending spinnaker boom. He would +have liked to haul the topsail down, but his comrade's voice had a +strange gay note that he had heard before. Harry meant to carry on; he +would drive the boat until something broke. Then Marston looked ahead. +The big promontory was not far off and moonlight touched the towering +crags. The sea was all white, for the current, setting strongly round +the head, ran in angry combers against the wind.</p> + +<p>"We are going to get wet in the tide-race," he said. "You might find +slacker water if you edged her off a bit."</p> + +<p>"And sail a longer course?" Wyndham rejoined.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> "We give <i>Deva</i> four +minutes and she's not far astern."</p> + +<p>Marston acquiesced. After all, his business was to obey. "Oh, well," he +said, "Charley and I had better get out on the booms."</p> + +<p>He beckoned the paid hand and they crawled along the deck. <i>Red Rose</i> +rolled savagely and main boom and spinnaker boom tossed their ends +aloft. The spars must be kept down, lest they swing across, and Marston, +clasping the varnished pole with arms and legs, crawled out as far as he +dared. Sometimes he swung high above the combers that rushed past below; +and sometimes swung down until his body was wet by the foam. He could +hold on if Harry kept her straight, but if she swerved much the big +sails would lurch across and he and Charley would hardly escape with +broken bones. He looked aft. Wyndham's figure cut against the light; it +was tense and his head was motionless, as if his glance was fixed. +Marston knew he meant to bring <i>Red Rose</i> in on her time allowance or +sail her under.</p> + +<p>They drew round the head and reeled across a bay. A row of lights began +to blink and two colored lanterns tossed. Marston saw the lights for a +few moments when the spinnaker soared away from the boom. The race was +nearly over, for the colored lights marked the flag-boat, anchored off +the long iron pier. The committee had not given the yachts much room; +perhaps they thought of their comfort and anchored the steamer near the +beach so she would not roll about. Smart work would be needed to shorten +sail before they struck the pier.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>A shadow touched the spinnaker and Marston looked astern. A swaying +pyramid of canvas shut out the moon and foam leaped about a plunging +hull. <i>Ptarmigan</i> had crept up and would go past, but she was large and +allowed <i>Red Rose</i> some time. Marston could not remember how much she +allowed; all he could do was to hold on, for his arms ached and his head +began to swim. A few minutes would finish the race, and he wondered +dully what would happen then. There were, perhaps, two hundred yards +between the flag-boat and the pier; they ought to haul down the +spinnaker now, but Harry would carry on.</p> + +<p>He saw <i>Ptarmigan</i>'s topsail tilt downwards and dark figures run about +her deck. Her spinnaker collapsed like a torn balloon, but <i>Red Rose</i> +leaped on, pressed by straining sail. Then there was a flash, and the +report of a gun rolled among the crags ahead. They drove into the smoke, +speeding side by side with <i>Ptarmigan</i>, and the flash of another gun +pierced the dark. Marston, crawling in-board, dropped into the cockpit +as the flag-boat swept astern, and for the next few minutes he was +desperately occupied.</p> + +<p>The spinnaker went into the sea, the topsail thrashed half-way up the +mast, and <i>Red Rose</i> listed until the water was deep on her lee deck. A +white sea swept her forward as they hauled down the staysail; and then, +coming round, she plunged head to wind, a few yards from the dark +ironwork of the pier. Wyndham came to help and soon afterwards they +brought her to a safe anchorage. While they stowed the sails a gig +crossed the bows and somebody shouted: "Well done, <i>Red Rose</i>! You're +first by three minutes on handicap time."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>Wyndham put on his jacket and lighted a cigarette. "Not bad for a boat I +bought because she was outclassed. Sometimes I wonder what I could do if +I had proper tools," he said. Then he laughed. "Anyhow, we had better +start the pump."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_II" id="CHAPTER_I_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /> +<span class="smalltext">MOONLIGHT AND GLAMOUR</span></h2> + + +<p>Rockets leaped up from the old castle on the narrow flat between the +woods and the strait. Colored fires burned behind the loopholes in the +ruined walls, and an admiring crowd occupied the lawn that slanted to +the water. The night was calm and when the band stopped the voices of a +choir, singing old part-songs on the pier, carried well. There was a +smell of drying seaweed, and the yachts' anchor-lights burned steadily +in rows that wavered with the eddying tide. The last race was over and +the townsfolk had given the crews a feast before the fleet dispersed.</p> + +<p>Marston sat on a broken wall, talking to <i>Deva</i>'s owner about the race +along the coast. Elliot was a friend of Marston's. Chisholm, the +commodore's young son, stood close by, smoking a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"You beat us handsomely and Wyndham deserves the cup for his pluck in +carrying on when we were forced to lower our topsail," Elliot admitted. +"Still something was due to luck; you got the last of the stream along +the shore when the tide running down the river carried the rest of us +back."</p> + +<p>"Wyndham has a talent for that kind of thing," said Marston. "Sometimes +you feel he, so to speak, thinks like a fish. He doesn't need to +calculate when the tide will turn and where he'll find slack water. He +knows."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>"Wyndham has a talent for getting what he wants," Chisholm interposed. +"<i>Deva</i> ought to have beaten <i>Red Rose</i>."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you rather young to judge?" Marston asked, with a touch of +dryness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said the lad, "I like a man who loses now and then. You can +understand that kind of fellow."</p> + +<p>Elliot frowned. He could take a beating; but he was curious and looked +at Marston thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you didn't see the Knoll buoy?"</p> + +<p>"We did not," Marston replied. "There was something on the water in the +haze, but it was too small for the buoy. Wyndham thought it a gull, a +big black-back; his sight is pretty good."</p> + +<p>"How did the thing bear?"</p> + +<p>Marston hesitated, because he saw where the question led, but he was +honest.</p> + +<p>"Nearly ahead; a point or two to starboard. Anyhow, it vanished, +although, as we didn't change our course, we must have passed the spot +rather close," he replied, forgetting that he was below when the object +vanished.</p> + +<p>"Then it was a gull," Elliot agreed, but Chisholm was not satisfied.</p> + +<p>"Elliot's a sportsman; I don't know if I am or not, because I was on +board <i>Deva</i> and feel hurt we didn't get the cup. Wyndham's a smart +skipper, but his luck's too good. One's inclined to doubt a man who +always gets a prize. My notion is, it isn't altogether due to skill. +Besides, I think the commodore would have liked Elliot to win the cup."</p> + +<p>"You're not a tactful lad and perhaps you're not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> in very good form just +now," Elliot remarked. "We'll go along and hear the band."</p> + +<p>They went off and Marston lighted his pipe. He was rather angry with +young Chisholm, because he was persuaded Wyndham had not seen the buoy. +Harry was not the man to win a race by a shabby trick; Marston trusted +his friends.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Wyndham and Flora Chisholm occupied a bench in a quiet +corner of the castle wall. Now and then a colored fire blazed up on the +battlements and red reflections flickered about the crowded lawn, but +there were dark intervals when they saw the water sparkle and the black +hills across the strait. When the band stopped, one heard the soft +splash of the tide, and the choir singing old Welsh airs. Flora was +young and felt the glamour of the calm moonlight night.</p> + +<p>Moreover, there was something strangely romantic about Wyndham. He was +handsome and marked by a dashing recklessness that rather carried one +away. Flora liked his pluck and bold seamanship. Her father was an old +navy man and the yacht club commodore, and she had inherited his love +for the sea. She had watched the finish of the race from the flag-boat, +and had seen <i>Red Rose</i> reel past, horribly pressed by sail. Fine skill +and steady nerve were needed to bring the old boat in first.</p> + +<p>Perhaps this was not important, but it was typical of Harry Wyndham; he +ran risks and laughed. It was bracing to know him and flattering to feel +that he was drawn to her. Yet Flora had some doubts; after all, she had +not known Wyndham long and he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> drawbacks. He was poor, some of her +friends distrusted him, and Chisholm had given hints—he approved Jim +Elliot, and Flora thought Jim loved her. When Wyndham was away she +hesitated and wondered whether she was rash; when he was near she +thrilled and caution vanished. Presently she roused herself and began to +talk.</p> + +<p>Wyndham got a hint of strain and his heart beat. He imagined Flora was +vaguely alarmed by his power to move her, but she did not go away. +Although her fresh beauty had first attracted him, he soon saw she had +qualities that strengthened her charm; she was proud, with a clean +pride, honest, and plucky. All the same, he was poor; his people were +known for their romantic extravagance and a touch of moral laxity. The +business of which he had recently taken control languished and had not +been very scrupulously carried on. Yet Wyndham was not daunted, and his +love for the girl was sincere.</p> + +<p>"Things will look different to-morrow when the boats have gone and the +little town goes to sleep again," he said. "I feel doleful. The +holiday's nearly over and soon after sunrise there'll be nothing left +but a happy memory."</p> + +<p>"Then you make an early start?"</p> + +<p>"At half ebb; three or four o'clock. One wishes the night would last. +Nights like this are not numerous."</p> + +<p>"You ought to be satisfied. You won the cup."</p> + +<p>"I meant to win. For one thing, you wished me luck."</p> + +<p>Flora blushed and wondered whether he could see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> her face. "After all, +that was not much help," she said. "My wishing you luck wouldn't alter +the wind and tide."</p> + +<p>"It gave me an object and a stimulus. We are a curious lot and much +depends on our mood. When one's braced enough, obstacles don't count. +One runs risks and wins."</p> + +<p>Flora was fastidious and got a faint jar. Yet she knew he was not a +boaster; he did what he said. Besides, she was flattered.</p> + +<p>"You are stopping for a few days, with the Commodore?" he resumed.</p> + +<p>Flora said she was and he frowned. "I must go. I ought not to have taken +the holiday, but the temptation was strong. Now I must make up for the +lost time."</p> + +<p>"Your new business keeps you occupied?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it claims all my thought, though now and then I deny the claim. +The sea pulls and a boat's a fascinating toy; but a time comes when one +must put one's toys away."</p> + +<p>"For all that, you came to the regattas and won the cup."</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled and, for the moon was bright, Flora noted the reckless +sparkle in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You know why I came and why I won the cup," he said. "Perhaps I'm vain, +but I wanted you to see I could beat the others whose toys are all that +occupy them. I have not their luck, and my object for coming drives me +back to town. If I'm to realize my ambitions, I have got to work."</p> + +<p>"Then you are ambitious?" Flora remarked and looked away.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>"Very," he replied quietly. "I know my drawbacks and they must be +removed. I have inherited the responsibilities of an embarrassed house. +My job's to repair its credit, wipe out debts, and make Wyndhams' +respected, as it was respected once. A big job, but the ambition behind +it gives me driving force."</p> + +<p>He paused and gave her a steady look. "Your father's friends are +merchants and shipowners. You know I have much to build up and something +to live down."</p> + +<p>Flora was quiet for a moment or two. She had heard her friends talk +about Wyndhams' and it was plain that they thought the new head of the +house something of an adventurer. For all that, she was moved. She liked +his frankness and his resolution. Looking about, she saw Marston and a +girl she knew cross the lawn, and was tempted to join them. Had it not +been for the glamour of the moonlight and sparkling sea, she might have +gone.</p> + +<p>"I wish you luck again!" she said quietly.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he said, "that will carry me far! Farther than you think, perhaps, +because I am going away."</p> + +<p>Flora moved abruptly and he saw she was disturbed.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going? Will you stop long?" she asked, and Wyndham knew +his chance had come. Her friends might blame him, but he meant to use +his power.</p> + +<p>"To begin with, I'm going to West Africa, and then to South and Central +America. We have an old schooner in the Guinea coast and I expect to +sail her across. She can creep into lagoons and call at beaches the +steamers do not touch. Somebody must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> pull the house's vanishing trade +together and I am the head."</p> + +<p>"But it's a long ocean passage and an unhealthy coast," Flora remarked, +with a note of strain in her voice. Altogether she tried to be calm.</p> + +<p>"All the same, I must go, and go soon," Wyndham replied.</p> + +<p>He stopped because he knew he had said enough, and Flora pondered. She +would miss him much and his going forced her to front a crisis she would +sooner have put off. She knew he loved her and he had a strange +fascination; he stood for romance and adventure, but she was +fastidiously honest and now and then he jarred. She felt vaguely that +there was something about him she did not like.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Marston and his companion came by again. The girl was a +friend of Flora's, but she passed without a glance and Flora knew she +disapproved. Somehow she wished her lover was like Bob Marston. Bob had +no fascination; indeed, he was rather dull, but he was frank and honest +and one trusted him. She knew she ought to join him and Mabel; there was +danger in stopping, but she did not go. Harry would sail at daybreak and +she would be lonely afterwards.</p> + +<p>Marston and the girl went on, the music stopped, and Flora heard the +drowsy splash of the tide. The moonlight sparkled on the strait and she +felt a strange longing to be rash. One missed much unless one had pluck. +Then Wyndham put his hand on her arm and gave her a long ardent look.</p> + +<p>"I am going away," he said. "I must go. For<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> your sake, I must try to +mend my damaged inheritance. Will you marry me when I come back?"</p> + +<p>Flora hesitated until he put his arm round her and her doubts vanished. +Romance conquered and passion swept her away. She yielded when he drew +her to him, and gave back his kiss. Then he let her go as people came +towards them and they crossed the lawn.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" he said triumphantly. "I can conquer all my difficulties now +and make your friends approve. You have given me a power I never had; I +feel I can't be stopped."</p> + +<p>His eyes were very bright and he lifted his head. He looked +unconquerable and his confidence was flattering. Flora's doubts had +gone. He was her acknowledged lover and she was very staunch.</p> + +<p>"I must see your father when he gets back to town," Wyndham said +presently. "The committee will keep him until too late to-night."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Flora with faint misgivings, "you must see him soon."</p> + +<p>Wyndham's eyes twinkled. "It's possible he will get a jolt. I'll own I +was half afraid; but I fear nothing now."</p> + +<p>"He loves me," Flora answered with a quiet look, and Wyndham said +nothing, but pressed her arm.</p> + +<p>They left the castle grounds for the quiet beach, and in the meantime +Mabel Hilliard and Marston leaned against the rails on the pier. For a +time the girl watched the water foam among the pillars and then looked +up.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you speak to Wyndham?" she asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>Marston smiled. "I think the reason was plain; Harry didn't want us. Why +didn't you speak to Flora?"</p> + +<p>Mabel made a sign of impatience. "I wanted to, but this would have been +different. Flora wouldn't have suspected you were meddling."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Marston. "I'm known to be dull; but I'm not so dull that I +miss your meaning. Well, you know Harry Wyndham's my friend."</p> + +<p>They were lovers who used no reserve, and Mabel did not hesitate.</p> + +<p>"Flora's my friend," she said. "Do you always trust Wyndham?"</p> + +<p>"If I didn't trust him, he wouldn't be my friend."</p> + +<p>"In some ways, you're very nice, Bob. But I'm afraid. Flora's attracted +by Wyndham. I wish she were not."</p> + +<p>"Why? Don't you like Harry?"</p> + +<p>"It's rather that I love Flora. She's sincere and proud. She's +fastidious; I think I mean she's scrupulously honorable."</p> + +<p>"Then you imply that Harry is not?" Marston asked, with a touch of +sternness.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't altogether imply this; but I feel he is not the man for +Flora."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Marston quietly, "I have known Harry long. He's clever and +generous; he has pluck and when strain comes is his best. I know what +some folks think about him, and Harry knows his handicap. The Wyndhams +were rather a wild lot, the family business was drifting on the rocks, +and the character of its recent head was not good. All this is a load +for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> Harry, but he'll run straight, and I feel my job is to help him +out."</p> + +<p>Mabel was not much comforted, but she gave him a smile.</p> + +<p>"If he is going to marry Flora, I want you to help him," she replied.</p> + +<p>They went off and some time afterwards Wyndham came along the pier. The +fireworks were over and the crowd had gone, but a group of men stood +about some steps that led to a narrow stage where the yachts' boats were +moored. The tide ran fast, foaming against the iron pillars, but the +promenade above threw a dark shadow on the water. Wyndham stopped at the +steps and tried to see if <i>Red Rose</i>'s dinghy was tied among the rest. +It was too dark; all he could distinguish was a row of boats that swung +about. Then young Chisholm pushed past.</p> + +<p>"The weed on the steps is slippery and I'm not going down. A yachtsman +jumps into a punt," he said.</p> + +<p>A yacht's punt is small and generally unstable, and to jump on board +needs skill. Marston came up and seized Chisholm's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Jack!" he said. "It's six or seven feet. If you don't +capsize her, you'll go through the bottom."</p> + +<p>"Think I can't jump six feet?" the lad exclaimed, and Wyndham imagined +he had drunk some wine at the committee supper. "Anyhow, I'll try."</p> + +<p>He shook off Marston's hand and leaped. His dark figure vanished and +there was a splash below. Marston and the others climbed down the steps, +but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> Wyndham jumped. He went under water and knew the risk he ran when +he came up; he had known when he made the plunge. The tide swept him +past the boats and broke angrily among the ironwork. One might get +entangled and pulled down, and if a punt came to help, she would +probably capsize when the current drove her against a brace.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two he drifted, and then saw something dark wash about +in a wedge of foam. It was Chisholm, clinging to an iron and trying to +keep his head above water.</p> + +<p>"Let go! I'll pick you up on the other side," shouted Wyndham, and the +current swept them under a beam.</p> + +<p>Then he grasped the lad's shoulder and steered him between two pillars. +The splash of oars indicated that a boat was pulling round the pier. +Wyndham's arm struck a cross-bar and next moment something caught his +leg, but he went clear and, dragging Chisholm with him, drifted into the +moonlight. He felt safe now; all they need do was to wait until the boat +arrived. They were a hundred yards from the pier when she came up and +Marston leaned over the bow.</p> + +<p>"Let me have him," he said. "Back her and sit steady, Tom."</p> + +<p>Wyndham knew he could trust Bob and let Chisholm go. Marston dragged him +on board and then balanced the boat while Wyndham lifted himself over +the stern. Chisholm did not seem much the worse, for he began to squeeze +the water from his clothes and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Trouble was, the punt I jumped for wasn't there," he said. "Imagine I +owe you something, Wyndham.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> The other fellows couldn't have got me +while I stuck to the brace, and if I'd let go, I'd have gone under the +irons."</p> + +<p>"That's all right!" Wyndham remarked. "You'll look before you jump +another time."</p> + +<p>They put Chisholm on board a steam yacht and when they reached <i>Red +Rose</i> Marston said, "It was lucky for Jack you were about. We couldn't +have got in between the braces with the punt."</p> + +<p>"It was a stroke of luck for both of us," Wyndham replied with a laugh.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_III" id="CHAPTER_I_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /> +<span class="smalltext">CHISHOLM'S PERSUASION</span></h2> + + +<p>Commodore Chisholm sat in his smoking-room and knitted his brows while +Wyndham talked. The room was small and plainly furnished and the books +on the shelves were all about the sea; narratives of old explorers' +voyages, works on naval tactics, and yacht registers. Wyndham spoke fast +and with marked eagerness, and when he was moved he had a strange power +of persuasion, but now and then Chisholm frowned. Although he knew he +must give way, he hesitated. There was something romantic and, so to +speak, exotic, about Wyndham, and Chisholm liked sober English calm.</p> + +<p>For all that, he loved his daughter, whom he had long indulged, and knew +her mind. He had only two children, Jack and Flora, and his wife was +dead. Chisholm had loved her well and married rather late. It was for +her sake and because his pay was small he left the navy and took a post +in the service of a public navigation board. Although he held his navy +rank he was generally given his yachting title, the "Commodore." He was +scrupulously just, frank, and rather slow; a man at whom his friends +sometimes smiled but always trusted. Now he frankly wished his daughter +had chosen another lover. It was not that he disliked the fellow; he +knew his family history<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> and what business men thought about Wyndham +Brothers. Still, it looked as if Flora was satisfied.</p> + +<p>"You ask me rather a hard thing," he remarked when Wyndham stopped. +"However, if Flora agrees, I suppose I cannot refuse. It's obvious I owe +you much."</p> + +<p>"You mean my pulling Jack out of the water? I don't want to urge this. +It was really nothing, and the lad swims well."</p> + +<p>"There is some risk in trying to swim through a net of iron rods when a +four-knot current runs through the holes; as I expect you knew when you +plunged. Besides, it's plain Jack was excited and a little off his +balance. The others went for a punt; you saw the real danger and steered +him through."</p> + +<p>Wyndham imagined Chisholm was struggling with his prejudices and trying +to be just. He had a generous vein and the Commodore's honesty moved +him.</p> + +<p>"My strongest argument is that I love Flora," he declared.</p> + +<p>"It counts for much," said Chisholm, who felt his sincerity. "Still, +there are other matters one must talk about."</p> + +<p>"That is so, sir," Wyndham agreed. "Well, I know I'm asking much and I'm +handicapped. I'm poor; when I took the family business I took a load of +debt and some distrust. We're not a conventional lot; we have long been +reckless and adventurous."</p> + +<p>He stopped for a moment, and then, while Chisholm approved his +frankness, went on: "All the same, I'm young; the house's fortunes can +be mended and its credit made good, and I have an object for putting my +heart into the job. It will be something of a strug<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>gle, sir, but I've +got a fighting chance, and with Flora's help I feel I'm going to win."</p> + +<p>"How do you propose to mend the house's fortunes?" Chisholm asked.</p> + +<p>"For a start, I've planned to visit our factories abroad, study our +trade on the spot, and turn out incompetent agents. I'll begin in West +Africa and then cross to the Caribbean. I expect to use our trading +schooner."</p> + +<p>Chisholm looked up, rather quickly, and Wyndham saw his interest was +roused. When one talked about boats the Commodore was keen, and +Wyndham's voyage was, so to speak, safe ground.</p> + +<p>"It's a long run," Chisholm remarked.</p> + +<p>"The slavers' road, sir," said Wyndham, who meant to lead him on. "A +slow beat against the Guinea current until one clears the windward ports +and works up to the Pambier; and then a fast reach across open water in +the North-East Trades. The early adventurers used smaller boats than +mine."</p> + +<p>"They pushed off from the Azores and Canaries, north of your track, and +carried the North-Easter farther across. If you get to leeward, you'll +strike the equatorial calms. But what about your boat?"</p> + +<p>"She's an old ninety-ton yacht, the <i>Columbine</i>, and was rather famous +once."</p> + +<p>"<i>Columbine</i>?" said Chisholm, who took down a yacht register. "Here she +is! Good builders, men who stuck to oak and teak. But she's thirty years +old."</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled. The Commodore was getting keen; he was as enthusiastic +as a boy when he talked about the sea.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>"I understand she's pretty sound and I must use the tools I've got. Her +draught is light. We can cross river bars and get into shallow lagoons. +Our factories stand by the mangrove creeks the slavers haunted. +Wyndhams' were slavers long since."</p> + +<p>"An old house!" said Chisholm. "Your folks were pioneers. There's +something in a long record; habits and characteristics go with the blood +of an old stock."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes that has drawbacks, sir," Wyndham remarked.</p> + +<p>Chisholm did not follow him and Wyndham saw he was musing about the +romance of the sea.</p> + +<p>"But what about your crew?" the Commodore asked.</p> + +<p>"I expect to keep the Liberian Krooboys now on board. A half-tamed, +reckless lot, but every Krooboy's a sailor."</p> + +<p>"I know; fine stuff, but needs management," Chisholm agreed. "I was on +patrol along the Guinea coast—a long time since. Blazing sun, roaring +bars, steaming mangrove swamps, and sickness. For all that, there's a +fascination you get nowhere else, unless it's on the Caribbean and coast +of Brazil. The world's alike on the lines of latitude and man's morals +follow the parallels." He paused with a dreamy look and then resumed: +"I'm getting old and have my duty; but if I could, I'd go with you."</p> + +<p>For a time they talked about the voyage, and then, with a +half-embarrassed smile, Chisholm pulled himself up. "I'm forgetting. +There are things I ought to ask——"</p> + +<p>Wyndham told him how much money he had, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> when Chisholm looked +thoughtful, went on: "I don't expect your consent to our marrying yet. +It's not long since I took control of the business and much depends on +the arrangements I hope to make at our factories. Things will look +better when I come back."</p> + +<p>"It's possible. But you do not know."</p> + +<p>"I really do know, sir," Wyndham declared. "You can make my ability to +put things straight a stipulation, if you like. I'm willing to be +tested. I feel I can't fail."</p> + +<p>Chisholm studied him for a moment or two. Wyndham's eyes sparkled; he +looked strangely forceful and resolute, and Chisholm thought he +understood why Flora had been carried away. The fellow was handsome and +romantic. Besides, he was a fine sailor, and Chisholm knew his pluck.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he said. "We'll let it go like that. The wedding must wait +until you come back, but I wish you luck."</p> + +<p>Wyndham thanked him and when he went off Chisholm pondered. Perhaps he +had agreed rather weakly; he had meant to be firmer, but Wyndham had led +him to talk about his voyage. Anyhow, the fellow had charm. It was hard +to refuse him and Chisholm had seen he was sincere. By and by he got up +and lighted his pipe. The thing was done with and he had given his +consent. Somehow he had been persuaded and after all if Flora was +satisfied——</p> + +<p>Chisholm had not stipulated that nobody should be told and Flora's +friends had much to talk about. Mabel Hilliard was disturbed, and when +Marston came to her mother's house one evening took him to the garden.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>"Bob," she said, "I suppose you know Wyndham is going to marry Flora?"</p> + +<p>"I do know," said Marston. "In fact, I approve. Flora is nearly the +nicest girl I've met. However, I imagine you're not satisfied."</p> + +<p>"I am not. Flora has been my friend since we were children. I am very +fond of her and think she is quite the nicest girl you have met."</p> + +<p>"Bar one!" Marston interposed.</p> + +<p>Mabel smiled. "Oh, well, I expect your judgment's biased, Bob. But let +me go on, although it's rather awkward ground. Wyndham has charm, he's +picturesque; something of the gentleman-adventurer type. I think that's +what I mean."</p> + +<p>"But you don't like the type? I thought it appealed to a girl's +imagination. Anyhow, although we're getting conventionalized, there are +gentlemen-adventurers and we have jobs for them yet."</p> + +<p>"I am not romantic," Mabel replied, with a twinkling glance. "I like +sober men, even if they're sometimes slow; men who keep a promise but +don't protest much. One doesn't want to be dazzled. A steady light is +enough."</p> + +<p>Marston was silent for a moment or two. Mabel's trust moved him and he +was half embarrassed. Then he said: "There's a remark of yours I can't +let go. No ground you think you ought to venture on is awkward to us. +Very well. You don't approve Harry's marrying Flora, but what line d'you +want me to take? I can't give him up and you're not going to give up +your friend. It wouldn't be like you."</p> + +<p>"I want you to stick to him closer than before. Flora and he may need us +both. One feels that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> Wyndham's unstable, and you make good ballast, +Bob."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose I'm heavy enough and you have given me an easy job. +It's curious, but not long since I told Harry I'd see him out if he +wanted help and yesterday he hinted he'd like a partner for his voyage +South. In a way, of course, I don't want to go."</p> + +<p>Mabel hid her disturbance and mused. She was modern and sometimes +frivolous, but she was very staunch and loved two people well. She did +not want Bob to go and yet she thought he ought. Mabel had an +instinctive distrust for Wyndham, although she liked him. She felt that +with his temperament he would run risks in the South and he must be +protected, for Flora's sake. Flora had promised to marry Wyndham and +Mabel knew she would keep her word. Well, sober, honest Bob, who was +really cleverer than people thought, was the man to take care of him.</p> + +<p>"If Wyndham urges it, I must let you go," she said.</p> + +<p>Marston gave her a steady glance, and nodded.</p> + +<p>"I understand. Of course, I think your notion's ridiculous. Harry +doesn't need a fellow like me, but you mean well. Although, in one way, +I'd frankly like the trip, in another I'd much sooner stay."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Mabel. "You're a dear, Bob."</p> + +<p>Then she got up, smiling, and advanced to meet Chisholm and Flora, who +came up the garden path.</p> + +<p>Wyndham urged Marston to go with him, and a week or two afterwards Flora +and Mabel stood on the deck of a paddle tug crossing a busy river mouth. +The day was dull and a haze of smoke from two towns<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> hung about the long +rows of warehouses and massive river walls. Out in the stream, a small +steamer with a black funnel and a row of white deckhouses moved seawards +with the tide. The figures grouped along her rail got indistinct, but +Flora's eyes were fixed upon two that stood away from the rest, until +they faded. Then the African boat vanished behind the towering hull of +an anchored liner.</p> + +<p>Flora turned and lowered her veil, for her eyes were wet. Chisholm was +on board the tug, but he was some distance off. Mabel was near, and her +look was strained.</p> + +<p>"In a way, it's only a long yachting trip," the latter remarked.</p> + +<p>"No," said Flora; "we both know it is not. It's a rash adventure; Harry +is going South, as his people all have gone, and some did not come +back."</p> + +<p>"Of course he'll come back! Travel's safe and easy now. They'll have no +adventures, except perhaps, at sea."</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid of the sea," Flora said in a quiet voice. "It's the +tropic coast; the big muddy rivers that get lost in the forest, and the +dark lagoons among the mangrove swamps. The country's insidious; its +influence is strong."</p> + +<p>Mabel forced a smile. She thought Flora was not disturbed about the +physical dangers, such as fever and shipwreck. It looked as if she knew +her lover.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, Bob is going with Harry, and Bob is not romantic," she +remarked. "In fact, he's the steadiest, most matter-of-fact man I know. +Nothing excites Bob much. It's very hard to carry him away."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>Flora gave her a grateful look. Since she must not criticize Harry, they +could not be altogether frank, but she saw Mabel understood. The men +they loved had very different temperaments, and Bob would be a useful +counterbalance. He was sober and practical: one could trust him. It was +hard to own that, in a sense, she could not trust Harry. He was rash, +and Flora did not like the stories about the Wyndhams who had not come +back. However, Bob was going, and she imagined she owed Mabel much.</p> + +<p>"I like Bob," she said. "I expect it cost you something to send him with +Harry."</p> + +<p>"He wanted to go."</p> + +<p>Flora put her hand in the other's arm. "But you might have stopped him."</p> + +<p>"He's Harry's friend," said Mabel. "I am yours. After all, that counts +for something, but we won't talk about it now. Your promising to marry +Harry has drawn us closer. It's an extra tie, because all Bob's friends +are mine."</p> + +<p>The tug's whistle shrieked as she swung across the tide to the landing +stage and Flora looked down the river. In the distance, where granite +walls and warehouses got small and indistinct, the African boat melted +into the smoke and mist. Flora felt strangely forlorn and half afraid.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_IV" id="CHAPTER_I_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE MAN WHO VANISHED</span></h2> + + +<p>Moonlight glittered on the West African river and it was very hot; the +air was heavy, humid, and tainted by miasmatic vapors. Inside the lonely +factory, moisture dripped from the beams and the big bare room that +opened on the veranda smelt of mildew. Across the river, tangled +mangroves loomed through drifting mist that hid the banks of mud about +their long, arched roots. Wyndham's schooner, <i>Columbine</i>, rode in +midstream, her tall masts and the graceful sweep of her rail cutting +black against the silver light. Somebody on board was singing a Kroo +paddling song with a strange monotonous air. In the distance one heard +the rumble of heavy surf.</p> + +<p>The factory was old and ruinous and the agent's hair was going white. He +sat opposite Wyndham, at the end of a table about which documents were +scattered; a cocktail jug and some glasses occupied the middle. Ellams +was haggard and his skin was a jaundiced yellow. Marston lounged in a +deck chair, with the perspiration running down his face, and smoked a +cigarette.</p> + +<p>"I think I have told you all you want to know, and I'm willing to give +up my post," Ellams remarked. "Indeed, I'm beginning to feel I'm too old +for the job. Few white men have lived as long in the fever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> swamps; as a +rule an agent's run was very short when I first came out. We didn't +bother about mosquitoes then. The tropical-diseases people hadn't +discovered the mischievous habits of <i>anopheles</i>."</p> + +<p>"You were here with my uncle, I think?" said Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"I was with him for a year or two," Ellams answered, in a reminiscent +tone. "A strange man, in some ways! I expect it's long since you saw +him?"</p> + +<p>"He came to England when I was a boy."</p> + +<p>Ellams smiled. "When I saw you cross the compound, I thought Rupert +Wyndham had come back. Wait a moment; I have his portrait."</p> + +<p>He brought a faded and mildewed photograph. Wyndham studied it, without +speaking, and then gave it to Marston, who made a little gesture of +surprise. He imagined Rupert Wyndham was about his comrade's age when +the portrait was taken, and the likeness was strange. There was in both +faces a hint of recklessness and unrest, although the hint was plainer +in the portrait. It indicated that Rupert would venture much and take +paths sober men did not tread. Somehow it disturbed Marston.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know he vanished in the West Indies?" Wyndham remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Ellams quietly. "I half expected something like this——"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Wyndham. "Well, we've done with business for to-night. Tell +me about my uncle."</p> + +<p>Ellams drained his glass and Marston noted that his hand shook. The man +had obviously suffered much from ague and fever.</p> + +<p>"Rupert Wyndham was here before me," Ellams<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> began. "Procter was agent +when he arrived and Procter had got some native habits. That's a risk +men who indulge their curiosity run in Africa. There's danger of +forgetting one is white. I imagine it was unlucky Rupert began with +Procter; his was a strange, adventurous temperament——"</p> + +<p>"I'm told I have some of Rupert's characteristics," Wyndham remarked. +"But go on."</p> + +<p>"When your uncle came out, there was no rule but the negro headman's. +British authority stopped a few miles from the outpost stockade, and +traders made their own laws; they lived and drank hard. In some ways, +things are not very different yet. We kill mosquitoes and dig drains, +but Africa doesn't change.</p> + +<p>"Well, Procter had gone the way some white men go, and when he died your +uncle got a jar. Rupert had only known England and he was young, but I +don't mean he was daunted. Rather he lost his balance and started on a +line he ought to have left alone. Sometimes he talked about the thing. I +suspect he knew the Leopards killed Procter."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Leopards</i>?" Marston interrupted.</p> + +<p>"The Ghost Leopards, a secret society. In this country, there are a +number, run by the Ju-Ju priests. They're supposed to use magic, but +they're a power in native politics and have given the British government +trouble. Perhaps the Leopards are the strongest. The bushmen believe +they can take the form of the animals, and when they like make +themselves invisible. Anyhow, the headman they don't approve seldom +rules very long——"</p> + +<p>Ellams paused for a few moments and resumed:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> "It was a hot night when +Rupert Wyndham thought he heard Procter call. He said his voice was +choked and faint. He got up; he occupied the room yonder—" Ellams +indicated a door opposite and went on: "There was no light, but the moon +shone through the window behind us. Rupert had only been awake a few +moments and heard nothing but the faint cry. He ran out in his pyjamas +and found Procter on the floor. Procter's body was warm, but when +Wyndham tried to lift him he saw he was dead. He lay across the cracked +board where Mr. Marston sits."</p> + +<p>Marston half-consciously pushed back his chair. "But what indicated the +Leopards?"</p> + +<p>"There were strange marks on Procter's throat. Wyndham thought they +looked like the marks of claws."</p> + +<p>Marston pondered while Ellams filled his glass. He pictured the huddled +figure in pyjamas lying across the rotten boards, and the marks on the +throat. As a rule his nerve was good, but the picture daunted him and he +did not like his comrade's strange, fixed look. In a sense, the story +was ridiculous; that is, it would have looked ridiculous in England, but +Africa was different. Theatrical tragedy was not strange there, and he +did not think Ellams had exaggerated much.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the latter, "in the morning Wyndham found the factory boys +had gone. He was alone with Procter and could get no help; besides, he +had a dose of fever and when malaria grips you, your imagination works. +He said perhaps the worst was the quietness and the buzzing of the +flies. He dug a grave, but could not get Procter down the steps; fever +makes one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> very limp, you know. Well, he sat there all day, keeping the +flies off Procter, and in the evening a Millers' launch came up stream."</p> + +<p>"A ghastly day!" said Marston, but Wyndham signed to Ellams.</p> + +<p>"You haven't told it all. Go on."</p> + +<p>"I'm an old servant and you're the head of the house," Ellams replied +meaningly. "Well, I think that day left a mark on Rupert Wyndham. When I +arrived he was moody and often brooded, but it looked as if he had a +talent for managing the bushmen. They seemed to understand him and the +business was growing fast. He began to go up river, although I imagine +no other trader had reached the native market then. It was good for +business; our oil was first quality and we got stuff, skins and +sometimes ivory, Millers' and the Association couldn't buy. Besides, +there were bits of pottery, brass, and silver work, the Fulah brought +across the desert. Wyndham said the patterns were Sarascenic and the +stuff was hundreds of years old. The house knew where to sell the goods +at home. Once or twice we got Aggri beads."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know about that," Wyndham remarked and turned to Marston. "In +Africa, Aggri beads are worth almost any price you like to ask. We can't +imitate them and don't know how they are made. It's very rare for a +negro headman to let an Aggri go."</p> + +<p>Ellams made a sign of agreement, and gave Wyndham an apologetic glance. +"You see what this implies?"</p> + +<p>"I think I see. My uncle was getting native habits; he was getting an +influence——"</p> + +<p>"He stopped away from the factory longer. Men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> with tattoo marks I +didn't know came down and talked to him, and sometimes brought no trade. +I thought he ran risks and warned him, but he laughed. It went on, and +we were getting rich when the change began. Our trade did not fall off +much, but one felt a difference——"</p> + +<p>Ellams paused, and looked thoughtful when he resumed: "I can't +altogether make things plain; there was a feeling of insecurity, and +Wyndham's moodiness got worse. He did not go away so much, and locked +his room door at night. I think he did not sleep and took some draught; +not drugs white men use, but stuff the negroes make. When he did sleep, +he was strangely hard to rouse. He was cool and as nearly fearless as +any man I knew, but he began to look haggard and start at unexpected +sounds. One morning I could not wake him and went round to the veranda +window. Wyndham was fast asleep and a gun lay across his bed. He was a +good shot with a pistol, but this was a heavy duck-gun that threw an +ounce and a quarter of shot. Well, I was getting nervy, and the factory +boys would not stop—it looked as if they knew something was wrong. I +began to wonder how long Wyndham could keep it up."</p> + +<p>The others were quiet when Ellams reached for the cocktail jug and +finding it empty filled his pipe. Marston had spent some weeks on the +African coast and sympathized with the agent. When one had seen the +country and breathed the foul miasma that saps the white man's strength, +one could understand the strain Ellams talked about. It was a daunting +country and the gloom of its steamy forests was the shadow of death.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>"After all," said Ellams, "there was no theatrical climax. One day a +launch brought us a cablegram. Wyndham was wanted at home, the ebb tide +was running and a mailboat was due to call at Takana lagoon. In an hour +<i>Columbine</i> dropped down stream and my notion is it was a relief to +Wyndham the cablegram arrived. If it had not arrived, he would have +stayed. He was that kind of man."</p> + +<p>"Had you trouble afterwards?" Marston asked.</p> + +<p>"I had not. It was as if a shadow had melted. The strain had gone."</p> + +<p>"Then it looks as if my uncle, alone, were threatened." Wyndham +remarked.</p> + +<p>Ellams nodded. "Yes. I think it was, so to speak, a personal thing. For +all that, our trade got slack and has not since touched the mark it +reached in your uncle's time. Well, I think that's all, and perhaps I +have talked too much."</p> + +<p>"If you'll mix another cocktail, we'll go to bed," Wyndham replied and +when, a few minutes afterwards, he went to his room stopped at the door.</p> + +<p>"This is where Rupert Wyndham slept with the gun beside him, I suppose?" +he said. "I wonder what he dreamed about!"</p> + +<p>For some time Marston did not sleep. As a rule, he did not indulge his +imagination, but he had been disturbed by the agent's tale and there +were strange noises. Some he thought were made by cracking boards and +falling damp; others puzzled him and he found them daunting in the dark. +They were like footsteps, as if somebody stole about the rooms. Marston +had had enough of Africa and yet he owned the country had a mysterious +charm. White men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> stayed, knowing the risk they ran and without much +hope of money reward, until they died of fever or their minds got +deranged. The latter happened now and then. In order to keep sane, one +must concentrate on one's business and refuse to speculate about the +secret life of the bush. After all, there was much to speculate +about——</p> + +<p>Marston pulled himself up. He was a sober white man and had nothing to +do with the negro's fantastic superstitions. Magic and witchcraft were +ridiculous, but in a country where they were a ruling force it was not +easy to laugh. He thought Rupert Wyndham had made rash experiments and +had dared too much, and although this was perhaps not important, Harry +had his uncle's temperament. The trouble was there. Still they would +leave the river soon and it would be a relief to go to sea. The sea was +clean and bracing.</p> + +<p>Three or four days afterwards <i>Columbine</i> dropped down stream on the +ebb. A big naked Krooboy held the wheel, another in the fore-channels +swung the lead and called the depth in a musical voice. The white +factory got indistinct and melted into the swamps, the puffs of wind +were fresher, and Marston was conscious of a keen satisfaction as the +dreary mangroves slipped astern and yellow sand and lines of foam came +into view ahead.</p> + +<p>Wyndham, smoking a cigarette, leaned against the rail. He wore white +duck without a crease and a big pale-gray hat. Marston thought he looked +very English, with his keen blue eyes, light hair, and red skin, but his +gaze was contemplative.</p> + +<p>"You're not sorry to get away?" he presently re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>marked. "I wonder +whether Rupert Wyndham was."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why he stayed," said Marston. "Unless, of course, he was +earning money."</p> + +<p>"A plausible explanation, but I'm not sure it's good," Wyndham replied +with a smile. "The head of our house was often extravagant but never, I +think, a miser. We're not a greedy lot."</p> + +<p>"You were traders; the object of trading is to get rich."</p> + +<p>"I doubt if this was my uncle's, or some of my other ancestors' object, +I think they valued money for what it would buy. Anyhow, they seldom +kept it long."</p> + +<p>"Since most of us value money for what it will buy, I don't understand," +Marston rejoined.</p> + +<p>"You bought a country house, a sober sportsman's life, and the liking of +honest friends. Well, your investments were sound, but there are men of +other temperaments they mightn't satisfy. I don't think they would have +satisfied Rupert Wyndham."</p> + +<p>"Then what did he expect to get in the swamps?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Wyndham, with a curious smile. "Perhaps strange +experiences; perhaps knowledge and power. I imagine he knew he must buy +them and was willing to pay."</p> + +<p>"Power over tattooed bushmen!" Marston exclaimed. "What could they teach +him?"</p> + +<p>"Things we have begun to experiment with and their Ju-Ju men knew long +since. The white man who knows the meaning of their tattoo marks has +gone some distance; they're not all tribal signs. However, I don't know +what Rupert Wyndham learned and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> it looks as if I shall not find out. +Our object's very matter of fact; to earn as much money as possible."</p> + +<p>"That is so. I mean to stick to it," said Marston firmly.</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed. "I expect you mean to see I take your line! Well, it's +a good line. But we're getting near the bar. Suppose you fetch the +chart?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_V" id="CHAPTER_I_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE TORNADO</span></h2> + + +<p>The night was hot and nearly calm, and Marston, sitting on the cabin +skylight, languidly looked about. A Krooboy held the wheel, and his dark +figure cut against the phosphorescent sea. <i>Columbine</i>'s bulwarks were +low and when she rolled the long, smooth swell ran level with their top. +A dim glow came from the compass binnacle, but the schooner was +close-hauled and the Kroo steered by the faint strain on the helm. The +wind was light and baffling and <i>Columbine</i> beat against it as she +worked along the coast.</p> + +<p>She carried all her canvas and her high gaff-topsail swung rhythmically +across the sky, shutting out the stars. Her dark mainsail looked very +big and every now and then shook down a shower of dew as its slack +curves swelled. A small moon touched the tops of the undulations with +silver light, and when the bows went down the foam that leaped about the +planks glimmered with green and gold. Booms and blocks rattled and +timbers groaned.</p> + +<p>Marston could not see the land, which was hidden by the sour, hot mist +that at sunset rolls off the African coast. He did not want to see it; +he hoped he had done with Africa, but he doubted. <i>Columbine</i> was on the +track the keels of the old slavers plowed, and he felt that the shadow +of the dark country might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> follow him across the sea. Long since, Africa +had peopled South America and the West Indies; Wyndham's ancestors had +helped in that. One found mangrove swamps, fever, and negro superstition +on the Caribbean coast, and it was significant that Rupert Wyndham had +vanished there. The trouble was Harry had inherited something of his +uncle's temperament. All the same, Marston had undertaken to stand by +him and meant to do so.</p> + +<p>The breeze got lighter, the wet canvas flapped, and <i>Columbine</i> hardly +made steerage way. She rolled until her bulwarks touched the water and +threw off fiery foam. One could not stand on her slanted deck, and +blocks and spars made a hideous din. In the distance, the roar of surf +rose and fell with a measured beat. Somewhere in the mist the big +combers crashed upon a hammered beach. It did not matter if there was +wind or not; the white band of surf had fringed the coast since the +world was young.</p> + +<p>Marston found his watch dreary. There was nothing to do; nothing, that +he could see, threatened, and the scattered light clouds hardly moved +across the sky. He was filling his pipe when he heard a step and saw +Wyndham by the wheel. He knew him by his white duck; the negro crew did +not wear much clothes.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" he said. "My watch is not up."</p> + +<p>"I was awake," Wyndham replied. "Felt I ought to get on deck. The glass +is falling."</p> + +<p>"Did you feel you ought to come <i>after</i> you noted this?"</p> + +<p>"Before," said Wyndham, dryly. "I didn't know the glass had dropped +until I got a light, but it looks as if I might have stayed below. +However, since I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> have turned out, we'll haul down the main-topsail."</p> + +<p>He gave an order and two Krooboys got to work. There was no obvious +reason for lowering the sail, but when Wyndham ordered the negroes +obeyed. Although they grinned with frank good-humor when Marston talked +to them, he knew he did not share Wyndham's authority. Yet Harry was not +harsh.</p> + +<p>When the sail was lowered Wyndham looked about. Some of the scattered +clouds had rolled together and the sky was black over the land. One +could scarcely feel the light wind, but the surf had got louder. Its +roar came out of the dark as if heavy trains were running along the +coast.</p> + +<p>"It looks ridiculous, particularly since I'd like to edge her farther +off the beach, but I think we'll stow the mainsail and fore-staysail," +Wyndham remarked.</p> + +<p>Marston agreed. Although he could see no grounds for shortening sail, he +trusted Wyndham's judgment, and the Krooboys got to work again. The +ropes, however, were stiff and swollen with the dew, and the mainsail +came down slowly. The heavy folds of canvas caught between the +topping-lifts; the gaff-jaws jambed on the mast. Wyndham sent a man +aloft to sit upon and ride down the spar, but this did not help much, +and the boom along the foot of the sail lurched with violent jerks. +Blocks banged and loose ropes whipped across the deck. The sweat ran +down Marston's face; he wanted to finish the job. For one thing, +<i>Columbine</i> was unmanageable while the half-lowered canvas flapped +about.</p> + +<p>Stopping a moment for breath, he glanced over the rail. The long swell +sparkled with small points of light that coalesced in sheets of green +flame when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> the undulations broke against the schooner's side. The deck +was spangled with luminous patches by the splashes and the wake that +trailed astern was bright. <i>Columbine</i> stole through the water although +the wind had nearly gone. It was not worth while to bring her head-to +when they shortened sail.</p> + +<p>Then the helmsman shouted and Marston felt one side of his face and body +cool. The loose canvas flapped noisily. Its folds shook out and swelled, +and Marston seized a rope. His skin prickled; he felt a strange tension +and a feverish desire to drag down the sticking gaff. A few moments +afterwards, something flickered behind the sail and a peal of thunder +drowned the noise on board. When it died away, rolling hull, slanted +masts, and the figures of the men stood out, wonderfully sharp, against +a dazzling blaze that vanished and left bewildering dark. The next peal +of thunder deafened Marston, who thought Wyndham shouted but heard no +words. This did not matter, because he knew they must secure the sail +before the tornado broke, and he pulled at the downhaul. He could not +hear the wind for the thunder, but it had begun to blow.</p> + +<p>The sail swelled between the confining ropes, there was a noise on one +side of the yacht, water foamed along the planks, and she began to +swing. It looked as if the steersman were putting up the helm. The peak +of the gaff was nearly down; with another good pull they could seize it +and lash it to the boom. Then a dazzling flash touched the deck. Marston +saw Wyndham run aft and push the Kroo from the wheel, but this was the +last he saw clearly for sometime. He imagined the fellow had meant to +run the yacht off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> before the squall; one could ease the strain of a +sudden blast like that, but if the squall lasted, they could not shorten +sail while she was before the wind. Now she was coming round. Wyndham +had put the helm down. It looked as if he were too late.</p> + +<p>The tornado broke upon her side and she went over until her lee rail was +in the sea. There was a noise like a thunder-clap forward as a sail blew +away; Marston thought it was the jib. He could see nothing. It had got +impenetrably dark, but he had a vague notion that water rushed along the +deck and the mainsail had broken loose and blown out between the ropes. +Unless they could master it, the mast would go. He heard another report +forward and thought somebody had loosed the staysail halyards and the +sail had blown to rags. Although his eyes were useless, he knew what was +going on.</p> + +<p>But they must secure the main gaff, and clutching at the boom above his +head, he swung himself up and worked along to its outer end, which +stretched over the stern. A footrope ran below the spar; one could +balance oneself by its help and he vaguely distinguished somebody close +by. It was, no doubt, Wyndham, because his clothes looked white. There +was no use in shouting. The uproar drowned one's voice; besides, their +job was plain. They must get a rope round the end of the gaff and lash +it fast.</p> + +<p>Marston's waist was on the boom; his feet stuck out behind him, braced +against the rope. In front there was a dark gulf. This was, no doubt, +the hollow of the sail, and the indistinct slanting line above was the +gaff. He threw a rope across the latter, but the end did not drop, so +that he could seize it under the sail;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> the wind blew it out, straight +and tight. He tried again, farther aft, jostling against the figure that +looked faintly white, and leaning down across the boom, caught the end +of the rope. The other man helped him and when they had got a loop round +the end of the gaff he stopped for breath. He was shaky after the +effort, his heart thumped painfully, and his chest rose and fell. He +imagined other men were on the boom, but he and his companion were all +that mattered. They must lash the peak down before the sail blew out +again. When this was done, the others could master the distended folds.</p> + +<p>The wet rope tore his hands; he felt them get slippery with blood, but +he held on and the man beside him helped. Marston knew he was not a +Kroo. The Kroos were bold sailors, but their resolution had a limit. +When a job looked hopeless they gave up; the man beside Marston was +another type. While there was breath in his body he would stick to his +task. The sail must be conquered.</p> + +<p>Lightning played about them and Marston's eyes were dazzled by the +changes from intolerable glare to dark. He trusted to the feel of things +and his seaman's knowledge of what was happening. He did not think, but +worked half-consciously. They made the gaff fast, and then something +broke and the heavy boom swung out over the sea. The jerk threw +Marston's feet from the rope and his body began to slip off the boom. He +saw fiery foam below, but as he braced himself for the plunge the next +man seized him. It looked as if they must both slip off, for Marston +found no hold for his hands on the smooth, wet spar. Perhaps the +pressure of the wind saved them by forcing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> their limp bodies against +the boom, for the other man steadied Marston until his foot touched the +rope again.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two they hung on, not daring to move and waiting until +they gathered strength. Then they carefully worked their way to the +inner end of the spar and dropped, exhausted, on the deck. There was +however, no rest for them. The massive boom must be dragged back and +dropped into its crutch. It could not be left to lurch about and smash +all it struck. Marston was vaguely conscious that a gang of Krooboys ran +to the mainsheet and Wyndham directed their efforts. He, himself, could +do no more, and he leaned against the rail, breathing hard.</p> + +<p>As his exhaustion vanished he began to note things. The men had secured +the boom; but the schooner's bows looked bare and he remembered the jibs +had blown away. The foresail was torn and half-lowered, and the gaff at +its head was jambed. The torn canvas kept the vessel from falling off +the wind, but would not bring her up enough for her to lie to. Masts and +deck were horribly slanted, the windward bulwark was hove high up, and +luminous spray drove across its top. It looked as if she were going over +and there was an appalling din, for the scream of the tornado pierced +the thunder.</p> + +<p>Then lightning enveloped the yacht and ran along the water. For an +instant Marston saw Wyndham's white figure at the wheel, and then he +groped his way towards him in the puzzling dark. Harry would need help, +for Marston knew what he meant to do. Since <i>Columbine</i> would not come +up, he was going to run her off before the wind in order to ease the +horrible pressure that bore her down. The trouble was, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> tornado blew +from sea, and land was near. Marston seized the wheel, and using all his +strength, helped Wyndham to pull it round. She felt her rudder and began +to swing, lifting her lee rail out of the water. Then she came nearly +upright with a jerk, and although the tornado was deafening, Marston +thought he heard the water roar as it leaped against her bows.</p> + +<p>The speed she made lifted her forward and a white wave curled abreast of +the rigging. She was going like a train and Marston sweated and gasped +as he helped at the wheel. There was nothing to do but let her run, +although it was obvious she could not run long. A glance at the lighted +compass indicated that she was heading for the land, where angry surf +beat upon an inhospitable beach. If they tried to bring her round, the +masts would go and she might capsize.</p> + +<p>She drove on and presently the thunder stopped. Rain that fell in sheets +swept the deck and beat their clothes against their skin. One heard +nothing but the roar of the deluge and the darkness could not be +pierced. After a few minutes Marston felt the strain on the wheel get +easier and lost the sense of speed. The deck did not seem to be lifted +forward and he thought the bows had resumed their proper level. When he +turned his head the rain no longer lashed his face, the foresail +flapped, and the straining, rattling noises began again. It looked as if +the wind had suddenly got light.</p> + +<p>"Let's bring her round," he shouted and heard his voice hoarse and loud.</p> + +<p>Wyndham signed agreement, they turned the wheel, and the crew ran about +the deck. She came round and a few minutes afterwards headed out to sea, +lurch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>ing slowly across the swell that now rolled and broke with crests +of foam. The sky had cleared, but not far off an ominous rumble came out +of the gloom astern.</p> + +<p>"We'll wait for daybreak before we make sail," Wyndham remarked. "You +can get below. My watch has begun."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you were with me on the boom?"</p> + +<p>"I was on the boom," said Wyndham. "Somebody else was near."</p> + +<p>"Do you imply you didn't know whom it was when you held me up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Wyndham, laughing, "it's not important. Suppose I had +grabbed a Krooboy who was falling? Do you imagine I ought to have let +him go? Anyhow, we helped each other. I don't expect I'd have reached +the deck if I had been alone."</p> + +<p>Marston said no more. One felt some reserve when one talked about things +like that. He looked to windward, and seeing the night was calm, went +below.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_VI" id="CHAPTER_I_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE MIDDLE PASSAGE</span></h2> + + +<p>Marston lounged with languid satisfaction on a locker in the stern +cabin. He had borne some strain and his body felt strangely slack +although his brain was active. The cabin was small and very plain, +because the yacht had been altered below decks when she was fitted for +carrying cargo. Moisture trickled down the matchboarded ceiling, big +warm drops fell from the beams, and a brass lamp swung about as she +rolled. Marston, however, knew this was an illusion; the beams moved but +the lamp was still.</p> + +<p>There were confused noises. Water washed about inside the lurching hull, +although a sharp clank overhead indicated that somebody was occupied at +the pump; water gurgled, with a noise like rolling gravel, outside the +planks. Timbers groaned, a seam in the matchboarding opened and shut, +and a dull concussion shook the boat when her bows plunged into the +swell. The swell was high, although the wind had dropped. Marston knew +these noises and found them soothing. They belonged to the sea, and he +loved the sea, although he had not long since fought it for his life. +Now the strain was over, he felt the struggle with the tornado had +braced and steadied him.</p> + +<p>In the tropics, it was the land he did not like. Perhaps he was getting +morbid, for after all he had not seen much of the African coast and yet +it frankly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> daunted him. His confused recollections were like a bad +dream; muddy lagoons surrounded by dreary mangroves from which the +miasma stole at night, hot and steamy forests where mysterious dangers +lurked, and rotting damp factories from which the burning sun could not +drive the shadow that weighed the white man down. Marston was not +imaginative, but he had felt the gloom.</p> + +<p>He pondered about it curiously. The shadow was, so to speak, impalpable; +vague yet sinister. Now and then white men rebelled against it with +noisy revels, but when the liquor was out the gloom crept back and some +drank again until they died. Yet the coast had a subtle charm, against +which it was prudent to steel oneself. The shadow was a reflection of +the deeper gloom in which the naked bushmen moved and served the powers +that rule the dark.</p> + +<p>Fever-worn traders declared there were such powers. One heard strange +stories that the men who told them obviously believed. It looked as if +the Ju-Ju magicians were not altogether impostors; they knew things the +white man did not and by this knowledge ruled. Their rule was owned and +firm. Marston had thought it ridiculous, but now he doubted. There was +something behind the hocus-pocus; something that moved one's curiosity +and tempted one to rash experiment. Marston knew this was what he +feared. Harry was rash and had rather felt the fascination than the +gloom.</p> + +<p>Marston banished his disturbing thoughts and began to muse about their +struggle with the sail. Harry was a normal, healthy white man then. It +was rather his sailor's instincts than conscious resolution that led +him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> to keep up the fight when it looked as if he must be thrown off the +boom. He would have been thrown off before he owned he was beaten. One +did things like that at sea, because they must be done, and did not +think them fine. Marston reviewed the fight, remembering his terror when +he slipped and how his confidence returned after Harry seized his arm. +The thought of the lonely plunge had daunted him; it was different when +he knew he would not plunge alone. If Harry and he could not reach the +deck, they would drop into the dark together. That was all, but it meant +much. For one thing, it meant that Marston must go where his comrade +went, although he might not like the path. In the meantime he was tired +and got into his bunk.</p> + +<p>When he went on deck in the morning the breeze was fresh and <i>Columbine</i> +drove through the water under all plain sail, for they had some spare +canvas on board. The sky was clear and the sun sparkled on the foam that +leaped about the bows and ran astern in a broad white wake. The old boat +was fast and there was something exhilarating in her buoyant lift and +roll. Marston and Wyndham got breakfast under an awning on deck. Wyndham +wore thin white clothes and a silk belt. His skin was burned a dark red +and his keen blue eyes sparkled. One saw the graceful lines of his +muscular figure; he looked alert and virile.</p> + +<p>"You're fresh enough this morning," Marston remarked. "My back is sore +and my arms ache. It was a pretty big strain to secure the gaff."</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed. "If the sail had blown away from us, the mast would +have gone and the boat have drifted into the surf."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>"I suppose we knew this unconsciously. Anyhow, I didn't argue about the +thing."</p> + +<p>"You held on," said Wyndham. "Well, I expect it's an example of an +instinct men developed when they used the old sailing ships. They must +beat the sea or drown, and sometimes the safety of all depended on the +nerve of one. I expect it led to a kind of class-conscientiousness. The +common need produced a code."</p> + +<p>"The instinct's good. Somehow, all you learn at sea is good; I mean, +it's morally bracing."</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled and indicated a faint dark line that melted into the +horizon on the starboard hand.</p> + +<p>"It's different in Africa, for example?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Marston cautiously, "Africa has drawbacks, but if you +don't get fever and are satisfied to look at things on the surface, you +might stay there sometime and not get much harm."</p> + +<p>Wyndham saw Marston meant to warn him and was amused. Bob was rather +obvious, but he was sincere.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you're not satisfied with things as they look on the surface +and want to find out what they are beneath?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Then I think you ought to clear out and go back to the North."</p> + +<p>"A simple plan! As a rule, your plans are simple. I'm curious, however, +and sometimes like to indulge my curiosity. It's easily excited in +Africa. There is much the white man doesn't know; he's hardly begun to +grasp the negro's point of view."</p> + +<p>"The negro has no point of view. He gropes in the dark."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>"I doubt it," said Wyndham thoughtfully. "I rather imagine he sees a +light, but perhaps not the light we know. There's a rude order in his +country and men with knowledge rule. The Leopards, the Ghost Crocodiles, +and the other strange societies don't hold power for nothing. Power +that's felt has some foundation."</p> + +<p>"You like power," Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled and looked about while he felt for another cigarette. +<i>Columbine</i>, swaying rhythmically to the heave of the swell, drove +through the sparkling water with a shower of spray blowing across her +weather bow. Her tall canvas gleamed against the blue sky. A Krooboy +lounged at the wheel, the most part of his muscular body naked and a +broad blue stripe running down his forehead. Two or three more squatted +in the shade of a sail. At the galley door the cook sang a monotonous +African song. The wire shrouds hummed like harpstrings, striking notes +that changed with the tension as the vessel rolled. There was nothing to +do but lounge and talk and Wyndham's mood was confidential.</p> + +<p>"I have not known much power," he said. "In England, power must be +bought. My father was poor but careless; my mother was sternly +conventional. When he died she tried to turn my feet into the regular, +beaten path. I know now she was afraid I would follow my ancestors' +wandering steps. Well, at school, I had the smallest allowance among the +boys, and learned to plot for things my comrades enjoyed. As a rule, I +got the things. I don't know if the effort was good or not, but I was +ambitious and wanted a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> leading place. Folks like you don't know what it +costs to hold one's ground."</p> + +<p>"I expect I got things easily," Marston agreed. "Perhaps this was lucky, +because I've no particular talent."</p> + +<p>"You have one talent that is worth all mine," Wyndham rejoined with some +feeling. "People trust you, Bob."</p> + +<p>Marston colored, but Wyndham went on: "When I left school and went to +Wyndhams' there was not much change. For the most part, my friends were +rich, and I had a clerk's pay, with a vague understanding that at some +far off time I might be the head of the house. The house was obviously +tottering; I did not think it would stand until I got control. My uncle, +Rupert's brother, would not see. Wyndhams' had stood so long he felt it +was self-supporting and would stand. Well, he was kind, and I'm glad he +died without knowing how near we really were to a fall.</p> + +<p>"However, I didn't mean to talk about the house, but rather about my +life when I was a shipping clerk. I had ambition and thought I had +talent; I hated to be left behind by my friends. It cost much planning +to share their amusements, join a good yacht club, and race my boat. +Sportsmen like you don't know the small tricks and shabbiness we others +are forced to use. Well, at length my uncle died and I got control of +the falling house, with its load of debt. I'd long been rash, but the +rashest thing I did was when I fell in love with Flora. Yet she loved +me, and Chisholm, with some reserves, has given his consent. I have got +to satisfy him and with this in view, we're bound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> for the Caribbean on +board a thirty-year-old yacht."</p> + +<p>Marston thought Wyndham did not look daunted. In a sense, his venture +was reckless, but Harry tried, and did, things others thought beyond +their powers. On the whole Marston imagined his boldness was justified.</p> + +<p>"If money can help, you know where it can be got," he said.</p> + +<p>Wyndham's half-ironical glance softened.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Bob! So far, I haven't gone begging from my friends; but if I +can use your money without much risk, I will borrow. I think you know +this."</p> + +<p>"What's mine is yours," Marston remarked and went to the cabin for a +chart, with which he occupied himself.</p> + +<p>He studied the chart and sailing directions when he had nothing to do +and was rather surprised that Wyndham did not. It was a long run to the +Caribbean and would be longer if they drifted into the equatorial calms. +Marston had a yacht master's certificate, although he was rather a +seaman than a navigator. He could find his way along the coast by +compass and patent-log, but to steer an ocean course was another thing. +One must be exact when one calculated one's position by the height of +the sun and stars.</p> + +<p>For some time they made good progress and then the light wind dropped +and <i>Columbine</i> rolled about in a glassy calm. The swell ran in long +undulations that shone with reflected light, and there was no shade, for +they lowered all sail to save the canvas from burning and chafing. The +sun pierced the awning, and it was intolerably hot. They had reached the +dangerous part of the old slavers' track; the belt of stagnant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> ocean +where the south wind stopped and the north-east had not begun. The belt +had been marked long since by horrors worse than wreck, for while the +crowded brigs and schooners drifted under the burning sun, fresh water +ran out and white men got crazed with rum while negroes died from +thirst.</p> + +<p>Wyndham lounged one morning under the awning after his bath. He wore +silk pyjamas, a red silk belt, and a wide hat of double felt. He looked +cool and Marston thought he harmonized with his surroundings; the +background of dazzling water, the slanted masts that caught the light as +they swung, and the oily black figures of the naked crew. He wondered +whether Harry had inherited something from ancestors who had known the +tragedies of the middle passage. Marston himself was wet with sweat, his +eyes ached, and his head felt full of blood.</p> + +<p>"We may drift about for some time," he said, throwing down a book he had +tried to read. "The sailing directions indicate that the Trades are +variable near their southern limit."</p> + +<p>"It's a matter of luck," Wyndham agreed, and Marston started because his +comrade's next remark chimed with his thoughts. "When I studied some of +the house's old records I found that two of our brigs vanished in the +calm belt. One wondered how they went. Fire perhaps, or the slaves broke +the hatch at night. Can't you picture their pouring out like ants and +bearing down the drunken crew? The crews did drink; slaving was not a +business for sober men. Hogsheads of rum figure in our old victualing +bills."</p> + +<p>He paused and resumed with a hard smile: "Well, it was a devilish trade. +One might speculate whether<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> the responsibility died with the men +engaged in it and vanished with the money they earned. None of the +Wyndhams seem to have kept money long; luck went hard against them. When +they did not squander, misfortune dogged the house."</p> + +<p>"Superstition!" Marston exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed. "It's possible, but superstition's common and all men +are not fools. I expect their fantastic imaginings hold a seed of truth. +Perhaps somebody here and there finds the seed and makes it grow."</p> + +<p>"In Africa, they water the soil with blood. It's not a white man's +gardening." Marston rejoined and went forward to the bows, but got no +comfort there.</p> + +<p>The sea shone like polished steel, heaving in long folds without a +wrinkle on its oily surface. But for the sluggish rise and fall, one +might have imagined no wind had blown since the world was young.</p> + +<p>For a week <i>Columbine</i> rolled about, and then one morning faint blue +lines ran across the sea to the north. Gasping and sweating with the +effort, they hoisted sail and sent up the biggest topsail drenched with +salt water. Sometimes it and the light balloon jib filled and although +the lower canvas would not draw, <i>Columbine</i> began to move. One could +not feel her progress, there was no strain on the helm, but silky +ripples left her side and slowly trailed astern.</p> + +<p>For all that, she went the wrong way, heading south into the calm, and +they could not bring her round. Her rudder had no grip when they turned +the wheel, and sometimes she stopped for an hour and then crawled on +again. The Krooboys panted in the shade of the shaking sails, and +Marston groaned and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> swore when he took his glasses and slackly climbed +the rigging. The dark-blue lines were plainer, three or four miles off, +and he thought they marked the edge of the Trade-breeze.</p> + +<p>Wyndham alone looked unmoved; he lay in a canvas chair under the awning, +and smoked and seemed to dream. Marston wondered what he dreamed about +and hoped it was Flora. In the afternoon Marston felt he must find some +relief.</p> + +<p>"I want to launch a boat and tow her," he said. "There's wind enough not +far off to keep her steering."</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. "Very well. It's recorded that they towed the +<i>Providence</i> for three days and used up a dozen negroes in the boats, +besides some gallons of rum. The fellow who kept the log was obviously +methodical. However, I want to keep our boys, and you can't tow in the +sun."</p> + +<p>"It's unthinkable," Marston agreed. "We'll begin at dark."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_VII" id="CHAPTER_I_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE TOW</span></h2> + + +<p>At sunset they hoisted out two boats, for wages are low in Africa and +<i>Columbine</i> carried a big crew. Wyndham stopped on board to steer while +Marston went in the gig, and the sun touched the horizon when he began +to uncoil a heavy warp. He was only occupied for a few minutes but when +he had finished it was dark. The relief from the glare was soothing and +the gloom was marked by a mistiness that gave him hope. He knew a faint +haze often follows the North-East Trades.</p> + +<p>The Krooboys dipped the oars, and the water glimmered with luminous +spangles under the blades and fell like drops of liquid fire. This was +all the light, except for the sparkle at <i>Columbine</i>'s bows as she +slowly forged ahead. She came on, towering above the boats in a vague +dark mass, until she sank with the swell and the tightening rope jerked +them rudely back. On heaving water, towing a large vessel is strenuous +work, for her progress is a series of plunges and one cannot keep an +even strain on the rope.</p> + +<p>When they began to row Marston's boat was drawn back under the yacht's +iron martingale. Her bowsprit loomed above it, threatening and big, and +the oars bent as the Kroos drove the boat ahead. In a few moments she +stopped and forged back towards the yacht, but the jerk was less +violent. <i>Columbine</i> was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> moving faster and the heavy warp worked like a +spring, easing the shock. Marston's business, however, was to tow her +round and when she began to turn he had trouble to keep his boat in +line. The tightening rope rasped across her stern, the gig swerved and +listed over, until it looked as if she would capsize. The oars on one +side were buried deep, the men could not clear them for another stroke, +and the threatening martingale rose and fell close astern.</p> + +<p>Marston, when the rope would let him, sculled with a long oar, and +presently the skin peeled from his hands. His throat got parched, sweat +ran down his face and he gasped with straining breath, but it was better +to use his strength than risk the martingale's being driven into his +back. They pulled her round and it was easier afterwards although he +could not relax much. The yacht was stealing through the water, but they +must keep up her speed or the violent jerks would begin again. It was +only possible to rest for a moment on the crest of the swell when the +warp absorbed the backward pull.</p> + +<p>A negro began to sing and the rest took up the chorus. The air was +strange and dreary but somehow musical, and Marston imagined it was very +old. He understood the Kroos had sung their paddling chanties long +before the Elizabethan slavers touched the fever-coast. The night was +very calm and dark. The figures of the men were indistinct, but when the +song stopped Marston heard their labored breathing and the regular +splash of oars. They rowed well and he hoped their toil was not wasted. +By daybreak they might reach the edge of the wind, but the fickle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +zephyrs might die away and the fiery dawn break across another glassy +calm.</p> + +<p>When he was not sculling Marston mused. He was rich and owned it strange +that he was there, laboring in the boat, as the slavers labored when +they towed the <i>Providence</i>, two hundred years ago. He wondered why men +went to sea in sailing ships, to bear fatigues nobody endured at home, +to fight for life on slanted yards, and stagger waist-deep about flooded +decks. Yet one went, and sometimes went for no reward. The thing was +puzzling.</p> + +<p>After all, the sea had a touch of romance one felt nowhere else. It was +something to brave the middle passage, although one had enough fresh +water and no frenzied slaves on board. Marston thought about the old +brigs—they towed the <i>Providence</i> three days, under the burning tropic +sun. He could picture her. She rode low in the water, with her stone +ballast, and freight of parched humanity packed close on the tween-decks +and in the bottom hold. She had tall masts, for speed was needed, and +the weight aloft would make her plunge and roll. The jerks on the +towline embarrassed the boats, but white men drove the exhausted negroes +with whips and curses until they dropped the oars and died. Yet they +towed her three days.</p> + +<p>Marston could not see his watch and wondered how long it was to sunrise. +It was unthinkable they should go on rowing in the heat of day; he was +tired now and remembering the dark ripples alone sustained him. He +thought they had nearly reached the spot where the surface was +disturbed, but the fickle puffs of wind might have dropped. Stopping +sculling for a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> moments, he turned his head. His face was wet with +sweat but he felt no coolness on his skin. It was very dark and +ominously calm.</p> + +<p>He took up the long oar again, twisting it with bleeding hands and +bracing his legs. They must keep <i>Columbine</i> moving and his business was +to hold the boat straight; trouble with the warp would follow if she +took a sheer. For all that, he could not hold out long. He had taken +life easily and his body revolted from the strain. In fact, he was +beaten now, but it counted for much that the Krooboys rowed. They were +raw savages and he was white. They owned his control, but all the +advantages money could buy for him had gone. Nothing was left but the +primitive strength and stubbornness of human nature. He must not be +beaten; he owed it to the ruling stock from which he sprang, and with a +stern effort he tugged at the oar.</p> + +<p>At length, he felt an elusive chill, and wiping his wet face, looked +about. In the east, it was not quite so dark, and when he turned his +head the yacht looked blacker and not so large. Hull and sails were no +longer blurred; their outline was getting sharp, and he noted that the +balloon jib swelled in a gentle curve. One side of his face got cold and +when he began to scull again he thought the strain on the rope was less.</p> + +<p>A belt of smoky red spread swiftly along the horizon, he heard the high +gaff topsail flap, booms rattled and then the yacht got quiet. The tow +rope sank and when it tightened there was no jerk. <i>Columbine</i> was +stealing up behind them.</p> + +<p>"In oars!" said Marston hoarsely. "Let go the warp!"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>The boat drifted back to the schooner and bumped against her side until +somebody caught a trailing rope. Marston with an effort climbed the rail +and dropping on deck saw Wyndham at the wheel.</p> + +<p>"Shall we hoist in? The boys are done," he said.</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. "Day's breaking; it will soon be blazing hot. The sun +may kill the wind, but I don't know. It's a fiery dawn."</p> + +<p>Blocks began to rattle and when the first boat swung across the rail +Marston looked about. Broad beams of light stretched across the sky and +the red sun rose out of the sea. He went to a chair under the awning and +threw himself down. He had earned a few minutes' rest, but when they had +gone he did not move and Wyndham smiled as he noted his even breath. +Beckoning a Krooboy, he sent him for a blanket and gently covered the +sleeping man.</p> + +<p>Marston was wakened by a lurch that threw him off the chair, and getting +up stiffly he noted the sharp slant of deck. Then he saw foam boil +behind the lee rail and straining curves of canvas that kept their +hollowness when the yacht rolled to windward. She trailed a snowy wake +across the backs of the sparkling seas and her rigging hummed on a high, +piercing note. The sky was blue, but the blue was dim and the sunshine +had lost its dazzling glare. One felt a bracing quality in the breeze.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if we had hit the <i>Trades</i>," he said. "What's her course?"</p> + +<p>"About North, North-west," said Wyndham, who sat on the stern grating +and indicated the Kroo at the wheel. "Bad Dollar is steering by the +wind. I reckoned we had better make some northing while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> we can. Off our +course, but the <i>Trades</i> are fickle in this latitude. Suppose you get +your sextant. It's close on twelve o'clock."</p> + +<p>Marston looked at the nearly vertical sun and laughed.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I'd just gone to sleep," he said and went below.</p> + +<p>The breeze freshened and held, <i>Columbine</i> with all plain sail set made +good speed, and they laid off a straight course on the big Atlantic +chart. The risks of the middle passage were left behind. If they were +lucky, she would reach far across on the starboard tack, without their +shifting a rope.</p> + +<p>Their hopes were justified and at length they made Barbadoes, and +sailing between the Windward Isles, entered the Caribbean. One phase of +the adventure was over, but Marston with vague misgivings realized that +another had begun. Somehow he felt he had not done with the shadow he +had shrunk from in Africa. For all that, nothing happened to disturb him +as they followed the coast, stopping now and then at an open roadstead, +and now and then in the stagnant harbor of an old Spanish town. Indeed, +Marston found much that was soothingly familiar; smart liners, rusty +cargo boats, and busy hotels. In parts, the towns had been modernized, +but civilized comforts, and sometimes luxuries, contrasted sharply with +decay and customs that had ruled since the first Spaniards came.</p> + +<p>Wyndhams' had agents and correspondents at a number of the ports, but, +as a rule, they were dark-skinned gentlemen of uncertain stock. They +lived at old houses with flat tops and central patios, where the kitchen +generally adjoined the stable, and transacted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> their business in rooms +from which green shutters kept out the light. The business was +accompanied by the smoking of bitter tobacco and draining of small +<i>copitas</i> of scented liquor. They declared their houses were Wyndham's, +but did not present him and Marston to their women.</p> + +<p>Except for some American and German merchants they saw few white people. +The citizens were mulattos of different shades, negroes, and half-breeds +who sprang from Spanish and Indian stock, although it was often hard to +guess what blood ran in the <i>Mestizos'</i> veins. For the most part, they +were a cheerful, careless lot; the coast basked in sunshine, with high, +blue mountains for a background, and Marston felt nothing of the gloom +and mystery that haunted the African rivers. At some of the ports +Wyndham made arrangements for the extension of the house's trade, but +Marston could not tell if he was satisfied or not.</p> + +<p>When they lounged one evening on the veranda of a big white hotel, +Marston led his comrade firmly to talk about business. The hotel had +long since been the home of a Spanish grandee, and although the back was +ruinous the Moorish front had been altered and decorated by American +enterprise. Marston thought it a compromise between the styles of +Tangiers and Coney Island. The rash American had gone and the <i>Fonda +Malaguena</i> owned the rule of a fat and urbane gentleman who claimed to +have come from Spain. For all that, the <i>Malaguena</i> was comfortable, and +after the yacht's cramped, hot cabin, Marston liked the big shaded +rooms. The wine and food were better than he had thought, and as he sat, +looking out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> between the pillars, with a cup of very good coffee in +front of him, he was satisfied to stay a few more days. Small tables +occupied part of the pavement, white-clothed waiters moved about, and +people talked and laughed. A band played in the plaza and tram cars +jingled along the narrow street. There was a half moon and one could see +the black mountains behind the ancient town.</p> + +<p>"I don't know if I ought to grumble, but it's obvious there's not much +money to be earned at the ports we've touched," Wyndham remarked. "Where +steamers call and trade is regularly carried on, competition cuts down +profits. You must use a big capital if you want a big return."</p> + +<p>"It's the usual line," said Marston. "I think it's sound."</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled. "You like the usual line! The trouble is, my capital is +small."</p> + +<p>"Then, you have another plan?"</p> + +<p>"I have some notions I hope to work out. Wyndhams' have agents and +stores at places farther along the coast. Steamers can't get into the +lagoons and we use sailing boats. The trade's small and risky, but the +profit's big. We'll push on and see what can be done, although I don't +expect too much."</p> + +<p>Marston pondered. He wanted to help Wyndham and had sometimes felt his +sportsman's life was rather objectless. For one thing, he might provide +himself with an occupation and perhaps stop Harry's embarking on rash +adventures. To invest his money would give him some control.</p> + +<p>"Could you make the business pay if you had a larger capital?" he +asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>"There are pretty good grounds for imagining so," Wyndham replied.</p> + +<p>"Very well! I have more money than I need and have been looking for a +chance to use my talents. So far I've kept them buried, and if I don't +dig them up soon, they might rust away. If you agree, I'd like to make a +start now and try a business speculation." He named a sum and added: +"You promised you'd take my help when you saw how you could use the +money."</p> + +<p>"You're generous, Bob," Wyndham remarked with a touch of feeling, and +then smiled. "However, I know you pretty well and think I understand +your plan. You want to keep me out of trouble and see I take the prudent +line. But was the plan yours or Mabel's?"</p> + +<p>"Mine," said Marston, rather shortly. "All the same, I imagine Mabel +would approve. But this has nothing to do with it and you needn't invent +an object for me. I'm looking for a good investment. My lawyers only get +me three or four per cent."</p> + +<p>"Then you make no stipulation?"</p> + +<p>"I do not," said Marston. "You will have control and command my help. If +I couldn't trust you with my money, I would not have gone to Africa with +you. I won't grumble if you lose the lot. The thing's a speculation."</p> + +<p>Wyndham knitted his brows for a few moments and then looked up.</p> + +<p>"You're a very good sort, Bob. I'll take the loan."</p> + +<p>"It's not a loan," said Marston firmly. "I'm buying a partnership."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>"A partner is responsible for all losses and liabilities. A lender is +not; he only risks the sum he invests."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Marston. "I understand that."</p> + +<p>A touch of color came into Wyndham's face, but he smiled.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I knew you had pluck!"</p> + +<p>Marston got up. "Now we have agreed, we'll get to work. Let's see if the +telegraph office is open. To begin with, we'll buy the lot of ballata +your agent at the other port talked about."</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed and they set off up the hot street.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_VIII" id="CHAPTER_I_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE LAGOON</span></h2> + + +<p>After a few days, <i>Columbine</i> sailed west, and one night lurched slowly +across the languid swell towards the coast. There was a full moon, but +Marston, standing near the negro pilot at the wheel, could not see much. +Mist drifted about the forest ahead and he heard an ominous roar of +surf. Although no break in the coast was distinguishable, the schooner +was obviously drifting with the tide toward an opening. The wind was +light and blew off the land, laden with a smell of spices and river mud. +Marston did not like the smell: he had known it in Africa and when one +felt the sour damp one took quinine. He had studied the chart, which did +not tell him much, and since there were no marks to steer for he must +trust the negro pilot.</p> + +<p>There was a risk about going in at night and Marston would sooner have +hove to and waited, but the tide rose a few inches higher than at noon, +and Wyndham seldom shirked a risk when he had something to gain. By and +by he jumped down from the rail where he had been using the lead.</p> + +<p>"I expect we'll get in, but I don't know about getting out if we're +loaded deep," he said.</p> + +<p>"Do you expect much of a load?" Marston asked, because the chart did not +indicate a port.</p> + +<p>"It depends on our luck. Small quantities of stuff<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> come down; scarce +dyestuffs, rubber, and forest produce that manufacturing chemists use. +We have a half-breed agent. White men can't stand the climate long, and +the natives are rather a curious lot."</p> + +<p>"Negroes?" said Marston thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed. "There are negroes. I understand the population's +pretty mixed, with a predominating strain of African blood. I expect you +don't like that, but trade's generally good at places where steamers +don't touch. Profits go up when competition's languid."</p> + +<p>Marston did not like it. He had thought his giving Wyndham money would +limit their business to trading at civilized ports. He imagined Harry +knew this and ought to have been satisfied, but he banished his feeling +of annoyance. After all, he had made no stipulation and was perhaps +indulging an illogical prejudice. He must, of course, trust his partner.</p> + +<p>The yacht stopped with a sudden jar and her stern swung round. The sails +flapped and her main boom lurched across and brought up with a crash. +She bumped hard once or twice, and then floated off and went on again. +The misty forest was nearer and a dim white belt indicated surf. It +looked as if they were steering for an unbroken beach. Then a wave of +thicker mist rolled about them and the forest was blotted out. Wyndham +jumped on the rail, and Marston heard the splash of the lead. After that +there was silence except for the roar of the surf, and Marston went +forward to see if the anchor was clear, but Wyndham said nothing and the +schooner stole on. Although the breeze was very light, the tide carried +her forward and Marston felt there was something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> ghostly about her +noiseless progress. By and by, however, Wyndham threw the lead on the +deck.</p> + +<p>"Another half-fathom! We're across the shoals," he said. "I expect the +pilot trusts the stream to keep us in the channel."</p> + +<p>Marston nodded. He saw trees in front, and in one place, a dark blur, +faintly edged by white, that he thought was a bank of mud, but all was +vague and somehow daunting. The trees got blacker, although they were +not more distinct, the sails flapped and then hung limp. The pilot +called out, and when Marston gave an order the anchor plunged and the +silence was broken by the roar of running chain. This died away when +<i>Columbine</i> swung, and except for the languid rumble of the surf all was +quieter than before. The pilot got on board his canoe and vanished in +the mist, and a few minutes afterwards Marston went to the cabin. It was +very hot, but when malaria lurks in the night mist one does not sleep on +deck.</p> + +<p>When he awoke in the morning the cabin floor slanted, and going on deck +he saw why the pilot had told them to let the boom rest on the port +quarter. The tide had ebbed and although its rise and fall was not +large, belts of mud and channels of yellow water occupied the bed of the +lagoon. All round were dingy mangroves that overlapped and hid the +entrance. A little water flowed past the yacht, but it was plain that +her bilge rested on the ground. The bottom shelved, but the heavy boom +inclined her up the bank. There was nobody about and nothing indicated +that anybody ever visited the spot. Marston frowned, because it was hard +to persuade himself he was not in Africa.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>About noon a canoe arrived with two negroes on board and Marston and +Wyndham were paddled to a village some miles up a creek. It was a poor +place; small, whitewashed mud houses, a rusty iron store, and a row of +squalid huts occupied a clearing in the forest. Wyndhams' agent had a +house by the creek and received his visitors in his office. Outside the +sand was dazzling, but the office was dark and comparatively cool. A +reed curtain covered the window, which had no glass, there was no door, +and little puffs of wind blew in. Don Felix was a fat and greasy +mulatto, dressed in soiled white duck, with a broad red sash, in which +an ornamental Spanish knife was stuck.</p> + +<p>He brought out some small glasses and a bottle of scented liquor and +they began to talk and smoke. The agent's English was not good and he +now and then used French and Castilian words. Marston noted that he +talked about a number of unimportant matters before he touched on +business, and seemed unwilling to come to the subject.</p> + +<p>"I can give you a load, but trade is bad," he said at length, and turned +to the window with a gesture that seemed to indicate the forest. "The +people up there are lazy and for some time have not brought much produce +down."</p> + +<p>"It's natural produce, I suppose? Stuff that grows itself," Marston +remarked. "There isn't much cultivation in the bush?"</p> + +<p>Don Felix shrugged. "<i>Quien sabe?</i> Who knows what they do up yonder? +These people they are <i>drôle</i>. Sometimes they bring me cargo. Sometimes +they come to beg; there is a <i>fiesta</i> in their village, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> make +<i>fandango</i>, <i>jamboree.</i> The trader pays for the fiesta and gets back +nothing."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you pay?"</p> + +<p>"It is better," Don Felix replied and looked at the door, as if to see +there was nobody about. "They are <i>bête</i>, the <i>Mestizos</i>, but when one +is wise one does not make enemies. There is much Obeah in the bush."</p> + +<p>"<i>Obeah</i>'s something like African Ju-Ju? Magic of a sort?" Marston +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Something like that," Wyndham agreed. "I don't know much about it." He +looked at the agent. "Do you?"</p> + +<p>Don Felix made the sign of the cross. "Me, I am good Catholic; I know +nothing. They are <i>drôle</i> in the bush. When I think about their folly I +laugh."</p> + +<p>"Not always, I imagine," Wyndham remarked dryly. "However, we must +persuade these folks we have goods they'd find useful. That's the +beginning of trade. When a man sees he needs things somebody else has +got, he gets to work and looks for something to sell. Now let's +consider——"</p> + +<p>Marston listened while his comrade talked. Harry sometimes surprised +people who did not know him well. He was romantic but he had a +calculating vein. Harry could plan and bargain, and Marston reflected +that while the Wyndhams had long been adventurers they were traders, +too. After an hour's talk he had arranged much that promised to help the +agent's business and they went back to the creek.</p> + +<p>"In a way, we're lucky," Wyndham observed while they paddled down +stream. "The people we're going to deal with are nearly pure Africans +and we know something about negroes."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>Marston said nothing. He did not know if they were lucky or not and +rather doubted.</p> + +<p>They returned to the schooner and in the morning cargo began to arrive. +Two or three days afterwards Wyndham went off to the village with some +of the crew and Marston gave the others leave to go ashore. Neither the +boys nor Wyndham came back at dark, but this did not matter. Although +the schooner rose upright for a few hours when the tide flowed, she +would not float until the new moon, and the muddy lagoon was as smooth +as a pond.</p> + +<p>In the evening Marston sat in the little stern cabin. It was very hot +and his brain was dull but he did not want to go to bed until the crew +arrived. Moisture dripped from the ceiling and flies hovered round the +lamp that hung at an angle to the beams. The skylight was open a few +inches and although the opening was covered by mosquito gauze one could +not keep out the flies. Marston hated their monotonous buzzing, for +there is something about a mangrove swamp that frays a white man's +nerves. Water lapped against the planks and now and then there was a +splash in the mud. The tide was flowing and Marston imagined the water +round the vessel was three or four feet deep. It looked as if Wyndham +meant to stay away all night, and Marston wondered with a slight +uneasiness what was keeping him.</p> + +<p>A mahogany medicine chest stood on the small swing table. It was of the +type supplied to British merchant ships, but larger, and the London +chemists had fitted it with the latest drugs used in the tropics. There +was a book about them and Marston had meant to re-arrange the bottles +and packets, which had got<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> displaced. He was not a doctor, but he had +studied the book and found it interesting. Tropical diseases were +strange and numerous, and he had made some cautious experiments on the +crew. Now his head ached rather badly and he wondered whether he would +take some quinine.</p> + +<p>Presently he put down the book and listened. Something had disturbed +him, but for a few moments he only heard the splash of the tide. Then +the scuttle over his head opened and a naked foot felt for the ladder. +The foot was white underneath, but although he was somewhat startled, +Marston did not think this strange. He had noted that negroes' and +mulattos' soles are often lighter in color than the rest of their skin.</p> + +<p>He sat still until a half naked man, who came backwards down the ladder, +turned and confronted him with an apologetic smile. The fellow was old +and his face was wrinkled and a curious yellow color. Marston had in +Africa seen badly jaundiced white men look something like that, although +the sickly tint was not so dark. A network of red veins covered his eyes +but they looked as if they had been blue. His hair was all white. He put +a small carved calabash on the table and then squatted on the cabin +floor.</p> + +<p>Marston frowned and waited. The carving had an African touch and it was +an African custom for a visitor to bring a present. The negroes called +it a <i>dash</i>.</p> + +<p>"Cappy lib for village?" the mulatto remarked and Marston nodded.</p> + +<p>He had not heard a canoe and wondered how the fellow got on board, since +his thin cotton clothes were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> dry. Moreover, although the half-breeds +Marston had met generally used creole French or uncouth Castilian, the +other said <i>lib for</i>, like a West African.</p> + +<p>"Bad country; white man sick too much. You sick now?" the mulatto +resumed, glancing at the chest.</p> + +<p>Marston made a sign of agreement. His head ached and he felt languid. It +was possible he had a mild dose of fever.</p> + +<p>"I fix you," said the mulatto, who pulled out a small brass box and +emptied some brown powder on the table. "You drink him in hot water."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Marston and scraped the stuff onto a piece of paper, +thinking he might experiment with it. The fellow could have no object +for trying to poison him and he understood the half-breeds knew some +useful cures.</p> + +<p>"Now you dash me a drink," said the other, looking at a bottle of whisky +in the rack, and Marston rather wondered why he took down the bottle. +The whisky was extra good; he did not like mulattoes, and knew no reason +for his entertaining his uninvited guest. Yet he put a glass on the +table; one glass.</p> + +<p>He imagined the other understood the significance of this, for his eyes +momentarily narrowed. It was strange, but they now looked blue. For all +that, he poured out a liberal measure of whisky and drank slowly, like a +connoisseur.</p> + +<p>Marston studied him with some curiosity and on the whole felt repelled. +The old fellow looked cunning and greedy, but not debased. One got a +hint of cruelty and power, and his manner was very calm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> In West +Africa, Marston would perhaps have kicked him out, but pure white men +are not numerous on the south and west coasts of the Caribbean and the +distinction of color is relaxed. Besides, he reflected, he was engaged +in trading with the natives.</p> + +<p>"You lib for here for buy thing," the other remarked presently. "What +thing you want?"</p> + +<p>Marston mentioned some articles Wyndham had talked about, and the other +nodded. "You go make me dash and you get them thing. Agent man fool man; +him no savvy black man's way in bush."</p> + +<p>"If the stuff comes along, we'll talk about the dash," Marston answered +cautiously, although he did not like his visitor and wondered when he +would go.</p> + +<p>"When white cappy come back?" the old fellow asked.</p> + +<p>"In the morning, I expect," said Marston with a yawn.</p> + +<p><a name="mulatto" id="mulatto"></a>The other got up as if he were going, and turned sideways in order to +pass between the swing-table and the locker. There was not much room, +for one does not lean against a swing-table, which keeps its level by a +counterbalance underneath when the vessel rolls. It looked as if the +mulatto knew this, and Marston thought it strange. Next moment, however, +he struck his naked foot against the fastenings in the deck and, +stumbling, put his arm on the table. The table tilted and the medicine +chest slipped off. It turned over as it fell and emptied bottles, +packets, scales, and measures on the deck.</p> + +<p>The mulatto looked at the disordered pile and made for the ladder. +Marston did not stop him, although he was angry, and kneeling down began +to pick up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> the articles. The bottles were strong and had not broken, +and in a minute or two he replaced them and the other things in the box. +Then he went up the ladder and looked out on deck. A lamp hung on the +forestay as a beacon for the boats and one could see the sweep of planks +and line of the rail. There was nobody about and nothing broke the +silence. Beyond the feeble glimmer of the lamp it was very dark, but the +night was calm and Marston knew the splash of a paddle would carry far.</p> + +<p>He crossed the deck and looked over the rail. The water caught a faint +reflection and he saw muddy foam and weed float past. The tide was +rising and running up the lagoon. One could hardly wade to land and it +was obviously impossible to do so without making a noise. Yet his +visitor had vanished and he had not heard him go. Marston remembered +stories about the Ghost Leopards he had heard in Africa, and laughed, +but the laugh was forced.</p> + +<p>He went back to the cabin and, shutting the hatch, examined the medicine +chest. He did not know if he was surprised to find two articles had +gone; one was a bottle of laudanum and the other a packet of new and +powerful drugs. The book warned one to be careful about their use. +Marston lighted a cigarette and pondered. He was not certain the bottle +and packet were in the box when he got it down, although he thought they +were; he had sometimes taken things out when he dosed the crew and he +had used laudanum. Moreover, it looked impossible that the mulatto had +picked them up. So far as Marston remembered, he did stoop down or stop. +Then, supposing he had taken the stuff, it was hard to see why a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> man +who was half a savage should steal laudanum and the other drug.</p> + +<p>If Obeah was like West African Ju-Ju, there were no doubt men who used +poison to support their claim to magical power; but strange and virulent +poisons could be extracted from tropical plants. Besides the fellow had +given Marston a cure for fever. Perhaps he was making a dangerous +experiment, but his curiosity conquered his caution and he resolved to +try the stuff. Going to the galley, he found some hot water, and as he +came back noted that one could see into the cabin through the +half-opened skylight. He wondered whether the mulatto had looked down +and noted the medicine chest. The brown powder melted, and he swallowed +the draught. Then he got into his bunk, and blowing out the lamp, +presently went to sleep.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_IX" id="CHAPTER_I_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /> +<span class="smalltext">DON FELIX'S REVOLT</span></h2> + + +<p>When Marston woke in the morning his headache and languidness had gone. +It looked as if the powder the mulatto had left had cured him, and +although he did not find the laudanum and packet of drugs, he resolved +he would not bother about their loss. In a day or two, small lots of +rather valuable cargo began to arrive and one afternoon Marston and +Wyndham lounged under the awning and watched the Krooboys transfer goods +from a big canoe to the yacht. Four or five negroes from up river put +the fiber packages in the hoisting slings.</p> + +<p>The men worked slackly, for although the sun was hidden the heat was +extreme. A yellow haze covered the sky, but the oily surface of the +lagoon shimmered with subdued light. On the other side, the reflection +of the mangroves floated motionless, without a leaf quivering. Dark +shadow lurked in the caves under the high roots, and here and there the +massed foliage was touched by dirty white. Marston thought the trees +looked as if they were blighted by some foul disease. He hated the +mangroves and the smell of mud that hung about the vessel.</p> + +<p>"The tides are beginning to get higher," he said. "It will be a relief +to leave this dismal spot and go to sea."</p> + +<p>"Calling here has paid us," Wyndham rejoined.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> "We are getting stuff for +which dyers and chemists give high prices; stuff I wanted but hardly +expected to obtain. In fact, I'll own your mysterious visitor has earned +his dash. No doubt he'll turn up again and ask for it."</p> + +<p>"D'you reckon he had much to do with our getting the goods?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham shrugged. "I understand he promised you the articles you talked +about, and they have arrived. If he comes again, I'd like to see him. +Perhaps he could be persuaded to send us something else."</p> + +<p>"He asked for you," said Marston, and wondered whether his remark was +rash when he saw Wyndham was pondering. Although Bob felt he was perhaps +illogical, he did not want Harry to persuade the fellow.</p> + +<p>"I think you said his eyes were blue," Wyndham resumed presently. "Well, +one does meet a mulatto with blue eyes now and then, and it's perhaps +not important that the bottom of his feet was white——"</p> + +<p>Wyndham stopped, for a splash of paddles broke the silence, and when a +canoe stole out of the shadow across the lagoon Marston said. "We may +learn something about him now. Here's your agent, Don Felix."</p> + +<p>He thought Wyndham was going to reply, but he hesitated and then crossed +the deck as the agent and another man came on board. Marston called the +steward, who put a small table under the awning and brought out a bottle +of choice liquor they had bought at the last port. The party sat down +and Marston studied his guests. On the whole, he liked Don Felix and +thought him honest. The fellow's greasy fat face was frank and his black +eyes met one's glance squarely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> For all that, he thought he did not +look well; there was a hint of strain about him and his hand shook when +he greedily drained his glass. The climate, however, was unhealthy, and +Marston turned to their other guest.</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian was white, although his skin was dark and wrinkled. He +was very thin and his threadbare clothes were slack; his hair was white +and his eyes were sunk. He looked about with a frank curiosity and +Marston imagined it was long since he had been on board a ship and had +met civilized white men.</p> + +<p>By and by Don Felix began to talk about the cargo and declared that he +was puzzled, because he had not received so large a quantity of valuable +goods for some time.</p> + +<p>"It looks as if the people in the bush were working," he remarked and +added dryly: "They work when they are forced."</p> + +<p>Marston told him about the mulatto's visit, and Don Felix's face got +dark. He drained his glass and turning to Father Sebastian repeated +Marston's story in awkward French.</p> + +<p>"I do not like it," he said, "This foul Bat! I think he is plotting +again."</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian made a sign of agreement and addressed Marston, whose +curiosity was obvious. He spoke slowly, as if it cost him an effort to +remember words, but Marston thought his French was good.</p> + +<p>"An evil man! He is called the Bat because he likes the dark. Moreover +they talk about bats that drink human blood."</p> + +<p>"If there are such creatures, why don't you kill them?" Marston asked +and glanced at Wyndham.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> He was smoking a cigarette and looked rather +bored, but Marston knew his friend and doubted.</p> + +<p>"The Bat is hard to kill. Some have tried, but perhaps I may be +luckier," Don Felix answered, and his fat, nervous fingers touched his +Spanish knife. Then he shrugged. "All the same, it is possible he kills +me!"</p> + +<p>The others said nothing. Don Felix was rather theatrical, but Marston +thought him strongly moved by anger or fear. By and by Don Felix went to +the hatch and examined one or two of the packages the Krooboys were +putting in the hold.</p> + +<p>"What is this?" he asked. "These packages have a mark I know but I did +not buy the goods."</p> + +<p>"The shipper will, no doubt, come to you for payment and we'll engage to +meet the bill," Wyndham replied. "The stuff is getting very scarce and +ought to sell for a good price."</p> + +<p>"No!" exclaimed Don Felix angrily. "I buy nothing with that mark! You +must stop the boys loading the lot. Send it all back."</p> + +<p>"Isn't this ridiculous?" Wyndham asked. "Why do you want us to refuse +the goods?"</p> + +<p>Don Felix sat down and gripped the arm of his chair hard. "The man whose +mark that is is a friend of the Bat's," he said, and his voice got +hoarse. "I do not know if the goods are his or the other's, but I will +not buy the stuff. Bad luck would go with the money one earned by +handling it."</p> + +<p>He said something to Father Sebastian in rapid creole French and the +priest turned to Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"It is better that you send back this cargo," he re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span>marked quietly. "Don +Felix is an honest man. He has given you advice that may cost him much." +Marston pondered, with his eyes on his guest. Father Sebastian was old +and shabby; he had obviously lived long with his savage flock, but he +was white. His glance was calm and thoughtful and he had a touch of +dignity. Marston thought he knew much about human nature and could be +trusted. Don Felix, however, got up and clenched his fist. It looked as +if the company of the priest and the others had given him some resolve.</p> + +<p>"What do I care about the cost?" he exclaimed in French. "I was afraid +and I paid. Me, a good Catholic, I paid that these pigs might serve +their devil! But it has gone on long, and now I stop. This dirty Bat +will come between me and my employer; he leaves me out. Well, let it be +so!" He paused and spread out his hand with a theatrical gesture that +Marston thought was meant for the negroes in the canoe. "Now I fight. My +trade is my blood. I will kill this Bat!"</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian shook his head, but Don Felix turned to Wyndham and +resumed in a defiant voice. "You will send back the packages? If not, +you must get another agent."</p> + +<p>"Very well," agreed Wyndham. "You can tell the boys to unload the goods +you don't like."</p> + +<p>He gave Don Felix a quick glance and Marston wondered whether he +expected him to hesitate, but the mulatto went back to the hatch and +gave his orders resolutely. Marston remembered that another lot of fiber +packages had been stowed at the bottom of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> hold before the agent +arrived and were now probably out of sight. Wyndham however, said +nothing about these and filled Father Sebastian's glass.</p> + +<p>"Our friend is superstitious," he remarked. "You know something about +Obeah, and Voodoo magic. I expect the men who teach the cult use cunning +tricks. But how much is trickery?"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Father Sebastian, "Who can tell? There are powers that rule +the dark. You know it is permitted when you have lived in the gloom. +Perhaps Don Felix is superstitious, but he takes a hard path. It is the +right path; I think he is brave." Then he paused and smiled. "I am old +and have lived in this country long. There is much about Voodoo and +other things that puzzles me; but this I know. They who walk in the +light need fear no lasting hurt."</p> + +<p>"Sometimes one's light gets dim," said Marston.</p> + +<p>"That is when we stray into the shadow and our eyes are dull. The light +burns steadily; it will not go out."</p> + +<p>Don Felix came back from the hatch and stopped for dinner. When he and +Father Sebastian had gone, Marston asked Wyndham: "What about the other +lot of goods that was already in the hold?"</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Wyndham. "Do you see any object for our returning the +stuff? For that matter, I don't know to whom it ought to be returned."</p> + +<p>Marston said the goods could wait at the village until the owner claimed +payment. "We promised Don Felix we would not take this cargo," he added.</p> + +<p>"You mean, I promised?" Wyndham rejoined. "My promise applied to the +particular lot he grum<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>bled about. Anyhow, I want the goods. We can sell +them for a high price."</p> + +<p>Marston admitted that the argument was plausible, although he doubted if +it were ethically sound. Still he must not be fastidiously critical +about his friend. He was rich and free from one kind of temptation; +Harry was poor. Wyndham noted his hesitation and resumed:</p> + +<p>"Our voyage is not a yachting excursion. We are frankly out for what we +can earn, and I'm, so to speak, now on trial. I'm young and the head of +a house that people knew was tottering when I took control. Chisholm and +Flora's relations have reserved their judgment; they're willing to give +me a fair chance, but wait to see what I can do. Well, you know my +drawbacks and how much depends on my making good. In order to do so, +I'll run all risks."</p> + +<p>Marston thought there was a risk Wyndham did not see. Flora Chisholm was +honest and proud. Her lover's success would not satisfy her if she +disapproved the means he used. This, however, was an awkward subject and +Marston owned that to imagine Harry would give her grounds for +disapproving was taking much for granted. He let the matter go and began +to talk about something else.</p> + +<p>For all that, when Wyndham left him he lighted a fresh cigarette and +mused. Harry was his friend, but he began to see he had got a habit of +making allowances for him that he might not have made for others. Harry +had a strange charm and individuality; somehow one could not judge him +by conventional rules. Then Marston remembered that Mabel had let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> him +go in order that he might be Harry's protector, but the dangers he was +to be guarded from were not physical. Marston understood this better now +and doubted if he were clever enough for the job; Mabel did not mean him +to be a hypercritical prig. Anyhow, he had undertaken the job and Mabel, +perhaps rather foolishly, trusted him. He threw his cigarette away and +went off to superintend the stowage of the cargo.</p> + +<p>The moon was getting small and the tides were higher when, one evening, +a messenger asked them to come to the village. They went up river in the +mist, and Marston felt languid and dejected. The day had been very hot +and it was not much cooler at dark. The stagnant air was hard to +breathe, there was something daunting in the silence, and the splash of +paddles sounded harshly loud. When they landed they found Don Felix +alone in his house except for a half-breed woman and Father Sebastian. +He lay in a fiber hammock and Marston saw he was very ill. His black +eyes were half shut, his face was a livid color and wet with clammy +sweat.</p> + +<p>The room was brightly lighted and the half-breed woman sat on the ground +in a limp, huddled pose, with a black shawl hiding her shoulders and +head. She did not move when the others came in, but Don Felix's glance +hinted at relief, and Father Sebastian indicated two American bent-wood +chairs that looked strangely out of harmony with the mud walls and +floor.</p> + +<p>"If we had known you were ill, we would have brought our medicine +chest," Marston said. "What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Who knows?" said Don Felix, dully, and Marston<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> imagined the Castilian +rejoinder meant his question admitted of no reply. "I will not live +until the morning, but I have lived longer than I sometimes thought. It +does not matter now the good father and my friends have come. I am no +more afraid."</p> + +<p>Marston was puzzled; somehow Don Felix looked afraid. The first part of +his statement was easier to understand, because Marston had learned in +Africa that negroes and uncivilized half-breeds slip easily out of life +and often seem to know when theirs will end. But if Don Felix was not +afraid to go, what did he fear?</p> + +<p>"Is there nobody about? Where are the working boys?" Wyndham asked.</p> + +<p>"They have gone; they <i>know</i>," Don Felix replied, and Marston felt half +daunted as he asked himself; What did the boys know? "But you will +stay?" the other went on anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Wyndham in a quiet voice.</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian looked up, as if to thank him, and Marston saw Harry +had taken the proper line. He felt there was no use in trying to +persuade Don Felix he was not very ill. It was significant that the +priest had not tried.</p> + +<p>"Now we will talk a little," Don Felix said to Wyndham. "There is some +business to talk about."</p> + +<p>Wyndham glanced at Father Sebastian, who made a sign of permission, and +then got up and went to the door with Marston. They sat down on a bench +outside and a beam of light and the dull voices of the others came +through the door. Marston did not hear the woman; she had not spoken at +all, but sat motionless and huddled. He had not seen her face and never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +knew what she was like. All was quiet in the village, and outside the +feeble beam the gloom was strangely deep. Marston sympathized with Don +Felix's liking for plenty of light.</p> + +<p>"What has caused his illness?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Poison, I think," Father Sebastian replied. "Our friend is a good +Catholic, but he is half persuaded it is something else."</p> + +<p>"The other thing's ridiculous, though I suppose they claim to use magic +in the bush. But you ought to know something about native poisons."</p> + +<p>"I know many, but Don Felix's symptoms are strange," said Father +Sebastian, quietly.</p> + +<p>Marston asked him about the symptoms and carefully noted his answers. +Then he remarked: "I don't altogether understand why the boys left him."</p> + +<p>"They were afraid. In this country, it is rash to help a victim of +Voodoo."</p> + +<p>"But they are your people; I mean, they belong to your flock."</p> + +<p>"They are human and one must not expect too much from men who have long +walked in the gloom. The old gods are powerful."</p> + +<p>"The Obeah gods are devils!" Marston declared with an anger that rather +surprised himself.</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian glanced at the surrounding dark, in which blurred trees +vaguely loomed.</p> + +<p>"It is possible there are devils yonder. Things are done they would +approve," he remarked quietly.</p> + +<p>"I understand the Bat is Don Felix's enemy. Do you think he poisoned +him?"</p> + +<p>"I do not know. Perhaps we shall never know. In this country, many +people are poisoned."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>Marston clenched his fist. "Don Felix is Wyndhams' agent and I'm a +partner in the house. If I find out who poisoned him, I'll see the +fellow is held accountable."</p> + +<p>He stopped, for Wyndham came to the door, beckoning the priest.</p> + +<p>"He wants you," he said, and they went in.</p> + +<p>Marston long remembered the next hour or two. At first Don Felix was +shaken by spasms of pain and groaned, but was silent afterwards. His +eyes were dull and half shut, and when they opened wider they turned +apprehensively to the open door. Sometimes he glanced about the room and +Marston thought he took courage when he saw Father Sebastian sitting +near his hammock and Wyndham in the background. Yet he was obviously +afraid and his fear was disturbing.</p> + +<p>For the most part all was very quiet, but sometimes there were noises +that jarred Marston's nerves. Although the night was calm, leaves +rustled in the dark and one heard sounds like the stealthy tread of +naked feet. Marston fancied shadows lurked about the edge of the beam +from the door and found it hard to persuade himself he was deceived, +although he knew nobody was there. For a minute or two moisture splashed +outside, as if somebody had struck a branch and shaken down big drops. +The noise stopped and Marston felt the silence worse.</p> + +<p>Now and then he glanced at Wyndham. The latter did not move and looked +straight in front, but his quietness was significant and his mouth was +firm. Marston imagined he bore some strain, but it was often hard to +tell what Harry felt and thought. At<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> length, Don Felix moved his hand +awkwardly, as if he felt for something to which he could cling, and the +slack movement did not stop until he felt Father Sebastian's grasp. His +haunted look was plainer, although he was now too weak to glance at the +door. It jarred Marston strangely, and getting up he went out.</p> + +<p>Half-an-hour afterwards there was a wild cry in the house and Marston +shivered. It was the woman's voice and he knew why she had cried out. +Then Wyndham came to the door, and standing with his back against the +light, looked about for his comrade.</p> + +<p>"We need not stay now," he said. "He was calm at the last and had all +the consolation Father Sebastian could give him. An honest man, and +brave, I think, believing what it's obvious he did believe!"</p> + +<p>"He trusted you," Marston remarked, meaningly.</p> + +<p>"It's possible he found our being about some help. We stayed while we +were needed."</p> + +<p>"That is not what I mean," Marston rejoined. "If ever I saw a man fight +with fear, I watched the horrible battle to-night! The fellow was your +agent and somebody who destroyed his body sent an unthinkable horror to +torment his mind. The thing's devilish! What are you going to do about +it?"</p> + +<p>"What can I do?" said Wyndham. "I have nothing to go upon."</p> + +<p>Marston made a sign of agreement, but his face was very stern. "Some +day, perhaps, we'll find out who's accountable. I mean to try."</p> + +<p>Wyndham said nothing and they went back to the canoe.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_X" id="CHAPTER_I_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /> +<span class="smalltext">MARSTON USES HIS POWER</span></h2> + + +<p>Soon after Don Felix was buried two strangers visited the schooner. One +was white but so burned by the sun and worn by the climate that he +looked like a native. Peters was agent for a Hamburg merchant house with +a factory on a neighboring lagoon, and told Wyndham he had come because +he seldom met a white man. The other was a government officer and +stated, apologetically, that his business was to make a few inquiries +about Don Felix's death. His skin was nearly white, but his coarse lips +and short, curling hair indicated a strain of negro blood.</p> + +<p>Marston knew something about the officials who held small posts on the +Caribbean coast. For the most part, they were mulattos, paid low wages +and willing to augment the latter by presents and bribes. As a rule, he +had found them good-humored and indolent, and he imagined Don Ramon +Larrinaga would be satisfied with a few particulars and a little money. +There was, he thought, no use in trying to put him on the track of the +unknown poisoner. He let Wyndham take the man to the cabin and sat under +the awning on deck with Peters, for whom he opened a bottle of vermouth.</p> + +<p>Peters knew much about the country and told him some rather curious +stories. He looked shriveled and desiccated, but his glance was keen and +Marston<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> imagined he was very shrewd. Marston, however, did not study +him much; it was enough that he was an amusing companion while Wyndham +was occupied. By-and-by the latter opened the cabin scuttle and +beckoned.</p> + +<p>"You have some paper money, Bob. Lend me a few bills," he said.</p> + +<p>Marston asked the sum he wanted and was surprised when Wyndham told him.</p> + +<p>"Is it necessary to give him so much?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's advisable. We'll soon be ready for sea and I expect the +fellow could keep us here while he made fresh inquiries and wrote +reports. He's polite, but he rather hinted something like that. Of +course, he has no notion of really finding out why Don Felix died."</p> + +<p>"We want to find out," Marston rejoined.</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled. "That's another thing; the government officials don't +want to bother. If we knew who was accountable, it would be hard to get +them to move. However, Don Ramon is waiting——"</p> + +<p>Marston took out his wallet and after giving Wyndham some money went +back to Peters, whose eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>"Your partner knows the customs of the country," he remarked. "On the +whole, it pays to be generous. In a climate like this, it's prudent to +save oneself unnecessary trouble."</p> + +<p>"We don't want to avoid trouble," Marston replied. "If I was persuaded +our agent was poisoned and could get on the poisoner's track, I'd use +some energy to follow it up."</p> + +<p>Peters shrugged. "You can do nothing; better let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> it rest. In the fever +swamps, men who are well one day often die the next. It is possible they +have an enemy in the bush, but the law does not reach up yonder. +Sickness is common and human life is cheap."</p> + +<p>They talked about something else until Wyndham and Larrinaga came on the +deck. The latter bowed to Marston when his canoe was paddled to the +gangway.</p> + +<p>"I thank you and your partner, señor," he said. "If I can be of help, +remember I am your servant."</p> + +<p>"It was nothing," Marston replied. "I expect Señor Wyndham has told you +all we know, but if you can find out anything important, you'll earn our +gratitude. The man who tells me why Don Felix died can count on his +reward."</p> + +<p>Peters gave him a curious glance and smiled. "After all, the reward may +perhaps be claimed. It is not likely, I admit, but things one does not +look for sometimes happen."</p> + +<p>He got into the canoe and when the negroes paddled off Marston leaned +against the rail.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we need expect nothing from Larrinaga," he remarked. "How +much did you tell him?"</p> + +<p>"All I thought it useful for him to know," said Wyndham, rather dryly. +"He's a common type; lazy and greedy. Now he's got his bribe, I don't +suppose he'll bother us. What did you think about the other?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't study him much. Amusing fellow, but you get a hint of force. I +imagine he's clever and a man who can hold on. Anyhow, he doesn't +matter, since it's improbable we'll see him again. We'll have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> the holds +full in a day or two and I've had enough of the lagoon."</p> + +<p>"All the same, I'm rather afraid we can't get away just yet."</p> + +<p>Marston began to grumble, but Wyndham smiled.</p> + +<p>"There are things to straighten out and now we have no agent I may be +needed, but it won't be necessary for you to stay. In fact, I'd like you +to take the schooner to the next port and transship the cargo. Then you +could come back for me and the extra load I half expect, but I'll know +more when I've been to the village, and we'll talk about this again."</p> + +<p>Wyndham started for the village next day, and when it was getting dark +Marston lounged on deck looking out for the boat. Some of the crew had +gone with Wyndham, the rest were in the forecastle, and except for the +cook at the galley door Marston had the deck to himself. The yacht was +slowly lifting with the tide, which spread across the mud banks in the +lagoon. Thin mist drifted about the mangroves and there was not a breath +of wind. The water glimmered with faint reflections but in a few minutes +it would be dark.</p> + +<p>Presently Marston, looking over the rail, imagined there was somebody +behind him on the deck. For a moment or two, however, he did not turn. +He had heard no step and had recently felt himself highly strung. It +looked as if Don Felix's death had given him a jar, but he was not going +to indulge his shaken nerves. Still he felt there was somebody about and +he slowly and deliberately looked round. The mulatto who had visited him +before squatted on the deck, as if he had been there some time. Marston +thought he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> saw amusement in his wrinkled face and his anger arose.</p> + +<p>"Cappy Wyndham lib for on board?" the old fellow asked.</p> + +<p>"He is not on board," said Marston roughly. "What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"You done get them cargo?"</p> + +<p>"We did. I don't know if you had much to do with it, but I suppose you +expect your dash. What would you like? Money?"</p> + +<p>The other shook his head. "Money no good. My friend sick too much. You +dash me some medicine."</p> + +<p>Marston remembered the packet of drugs and found it needful to use some +control. He did not know if the mulatto was the Bat or not, but on the +whole thought he was and the horror of his watch at Don Felix's house +was fresh. Yet he had nothing to go upon and would not be justified in +throwing the fellow overboard. The other watched him with bloodshot +eyes, and although his face was inscrutable, Marston began to feel +uneasy. He wondered whether the fellow was something of a hypnotist, for +he got a hint of force; force that he thought malevolent. Looking +forward along the deck, he imagined he saw the cook at the galley door, +but the indistinct figure vanished and Marston felt it was significant +that the negro had gone inside. Then he braced himself and looked back.</p> + +<p>"I will not give you medicine, but since we did get the cargo, perhaps +you deserve something," he said. "Wait a minute."</p> + +<p>Going to the cabin, he opened a locker in which they had put a quantity +of African trade goods. The stuff was rubbish, made to please the +negro's eye; brass,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> jewelry, cheap scent, colored flannel jackets, and +frail umbrellas. Marston picked up as much as he could carry and was +conscious of rather dry amusement as he climbed the ladder. His visitor +had obviously learned English in West Africa and he was going to give +him the usual African dash, but he knew the old fellow had no use for +the stuff. It was like giving a philosopher a child's toy.</p> + +<p>"There you are!" said Marston, throwing down the articles. "Now get +off!"</p> + +<p>"I lib for see Cappy Wyndham," the other objected.</p> + +<p>"Get off the ship," said Marston. "Don't come back!"</p> + +<p>He wondered how the man would go. There was no canoe about and the water +round the vessel was three or four feet deep; she lay obliquely to the +beach. It was ridiculous to imagine the other had vanished on his last +visit, but Marston had not seen how he went. Now, however, he meant to +watch.</p> + +<p>The mulatto picked up the load of rubbish and went forward along the +deck. He jumped on the end of the bowsprit and Marston smiled, for it +looked as if he could not use his tricks when one kept one's eye on him. +Balancing himself cautiously, he walked along the spar and melted in the +dark. But in a few moments there was a splash and Marston knew he had +dropped from the bowsprit's end into shallow water. Somehow this was +soothing and he went to the cabin. In an hour or two Wyndham returned +and when they lighted their pipes after supper Marston remarked:</p> + +<p>"The old fellow Don Felix imagined was the Bat turned up again."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Wyndham, who looked interested.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> "Don Felix hadn't seen him; +we don't know he is the Bat."</p> + +<p>"Father Sebastian agreed that he was, and I haven't much doubt. He said +the man was evil and I think evil's the proper word. He gives me a +strange nervous shrinking. Have you felt a kind of nausea when you +looked at something repulsive? Well, I feel like that when he's about."</p> + +<p>"As a rule, you don't let your imagination carry you away," Wyndham +remarked. "I expect the heat and the dismal surroundings account for +much."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, I gave him a dash and ordered him off the boat."</p> + +<p>Wyndham glanced up rather sharply. "Why? We have got some valuable +goods, and although we'll have to pay their owners, it looks as if the +old fellow was useful."</p> + +<p>"I don't want any goods he sends," Marston rejoined. "My notion is +they're better left alone. Then I'm a partner, and although I haven't +meddled much, I felt I ought to use my power."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "You are a partner, I suppose we must let it +go."</p> + +<p>They talked about something else and next evening Marston took the +schooner's dinghy and rowed down the lagoon. He had heard curlew whistle +in the dark and wondered whether the birds were as wild as they are in +England. For a time he followed the edge of the mangroves, where water +dripped from the arched roots, and amphibious things splashed in the +muddy caves; and then skirted a sloppy bank the tide flowed across. Now +and then he saw a curlew but did not get a shot, and by and by he put +down the oars. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> damp heat was enervating and he rested and looked +about.</p> + +<p>It would soon be dark and the mangroves cut in a straight black line +against a fading orange glow. The land-breeze began to shake the leaves +and now and then a pale branch moved. All was very quiet but for the +dull rumble of the surf outside. Marston felt languid and vaguely +disturbed. There was something about Wyndham that puzzled him. When they +were at sea he did not want a better friend, but it was different when +they went ashore to trade. Well, he had come to look after Harry and now +understood better why Mabel had let him go. Perhaps Harry really needed +to be looked after. Marston was staunch, but he knew Mabel had not +altogether trusted his comrade.</p> + +<p>There was another thing; he must soon sail the schooner to the next port +and he wanted to go, but Harry meant to stay. Marston did not like this, +although he could think of no logical objection. The mulatto's visits +bothered him. The fellow had asked for Wyndham and somehow Marston would +sooner they did not meet. Perhaps the thing was ridiculous, but he felt +like that.</p> + +<p>It got dark and although there was no obvious reason for his return he +felt he ought to get back to the yacht. Recently he had felt highly +strung. This was, no doubt, the consequence of pottering about the +unhealthy swamps, but he must control his illogical impulses and he +lighted his pipe while he let the dinghy drift with the tide.</p> + +<p>She floated quietly up the lagoon and presently he saw <i>Columbine</i>'s +lights in the mist. Pulling a few languid strokes, he let the boat drift +again until the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> vessel's dark side was close ahead. Then he put out his +hand and seized a rope. He wore rubber boots, because he had thought he +might wade across the mud, and made no noise when he stepped down from +the rail. There was nobody on deck, but a light shone in the cabin and +when he went aft he heard voices. The skylight was open and one of the +voices was the old mulatto's.</p> + +<p>Marston stopped abruptly. He wanted to go down and turn out the fellow, +but doubted if he would be justified, although he was Wyndham's partner. +Somehow it was unthinkable the brute and his comrade should engage in +quiet talk. For all that, he did not go, and turning back a few yards +stopped again. He must not be a fool, and no doubt the fellow had come +to talk about some goods his friends in the bush could supply. Marston +did not want the goods, but forced himself to wait.</p> + +<p>By and by a shadowy figure came out from the cabin hatch. It made no +noise and Marston would not have seen it had not the indistinct black +object for a moment cut against the light. Outside the beam from the +open hatch all was misty and dark. Still Marston thought the fellow knew +he was there, because he vanished as if he had gone behind the mast. +Marston did not bother about him and went down to the cabin.</p> + +<p>There was liquor on the table and Wyndham had obviously just drained the +glass he held. His hand shook as he put it down, his face was rather +white, and drops of sweat stood on his forehead. It looked as if he had +got a knock, although Marston knew Harry's nerve was good.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>"I couldn't get near the curlew, so I came back," he remarked, +awkwardly.</p> + +<p>Wyndham looked up, with an obvious effort for calm. "Oh, well, since you +are here, you might turn out the boys and heave up the slack cable."</p> + +<p>Marston noted that Wyndham's voice was hoarse, but thought it better to +conquer his curiosity. Harry might give him his confidence later, and in +the meantime to heave the cable taut would obviate their bringing the +boys up again. The tide was rising and they wanted to float the schooner +off the mud. He went forward to call the crew and the clank of the +windlass and rattle of chain were soothing, since they indicated that +<i>Columbine</i> was ready for sea. Marston owned that he would be glad to +get away from the lagoon. He was occupied for some time and when he went +back to the cabin Wyndham looked calm.</p> + +<p>"We'll keep her off the beach after this," he said. "Sorry you didn't +get a shot. The curlew seem as wild as they are at home."</p> + +<p>"I don't want her to take the beach again," Marston remarked. "When do +we sail?"</p> + +<p>"You'll sail as soon as the pilot thinks there's water enough on the +bar. He comes to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"But you mean to stay?"</p> + +<p>"I must stay," said Wyndham. "We haven't an agent and I'm on the track +of some business I can't neglect."</p> + +<p>Marston saw there was no use in urging his comrade to go. Harry's mouth +was ominously firm. He wondered whether Harry would tell him what the +mulatto had talked about, but he did not and soon after supper they went +to bed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I_XI" id="CHAPTER_I_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /> +<span class="smalltext">MARSTON GOES TO SEA</span></h2> + + +<p>The new moon shone in a clear sky and the tide was nearly full. Puffs of +warm land-breeze shook the mangroves and drove small ripples against +<i>Columbine</i>'s side. She rode to the flood stream, ready for sea, and the +clank of her windlass rolled across the swamps. The negro crew were +shortening cable and sang as they hove at the levers.</p> + +<p>Wyndham was talking to Peters, who had arrived in the afternoon, and +Marston, standing near them, frowned. He was annoyed that Peters had +come, because he had wanted to talk to Wyndham and after the other's +arrival this was impossible. It was unlucky he had put it off, but he +did not see why Harry had urged the fellow to stay and go back to the +village with him when the schooner sailed. Marston felt rather hurt, +since it almost looked as if Harry had kept Peters in order to prevent +him trying to satisfy his curiosity.</p> + +<p>Marston was curious. The old mulatto had told Harry something that had +given him a bad jar; Bob could not forget his comrade's strained look +when he entered the cabin, and he had found no clew to the puzzle. It +was a relief to go to sea, but the satisfaction he had expected to get +was dulled. He felt as if he were running away and leaving his partner +when the latter needed him. Yet somebody must go and Harry would not.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>"Short up, sah!" a Krooboy shouted when the windlass stopped. The pilot +gave an order, and the foresail began to rise with a rattle of blocks. +The canvas flapped and swelled, and Marston went forward.</p> + +<p>"Break out the anchor," he said. "Hoist the inner jib."</p> + +<p>Dark figures rose and fell with the windlass-bars; slowly at first, then +faster, as with a harsh clank the chain ran through the pipe. Marston +had generally found the noise inspiriting. It hinted at adventure on the +open sea, but it did not move him now; he was not leaving the lagoon for +good. Yet he was soothed when <i>Columbine</i> began to move. After lying on +the mud, he liked to feel her lift as she met the gentle swell the tide +brought in, and hear the ripple splash about her bows. The mangroves +stole past, a gap opened in the trees, and a faintly-glittering track +led out to sea.</p> + +<p>"Hoist the mainsail," said the pilot, and the splash of ripples was +louder when the dark canvas rose.</p> + +<p>She drove out with the land-breeze and met the rollers on the bar. They +were not high and hardly broke, only one here and there melting into +foam. She lurched across with dry decks, and when the leadsman got +deeper water the pilot brought her round and pulled up his canoe. +Marston went to the gangway with Wyndham and Peters, and the latter +laughed as he gave him his hand.</p> + +<p>"I don't know if we'll meet again, but it's possible," he said. "You +offered a good reward for some information not long since. I wonder +whether you were rash."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>"The offer stands," Marston replied. "The man who tells me all about our +agent's death will find me generous."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Peters. "I can't state that I expect to claim the +reward, but after all I might. Then I hope we'll both be satisfied."</p> + +<p>Marston let him go. He would have given much for ten minutes' frank talk +with Wyndham, but this was impossible. The pilot was waiting and the +yacht drifting near a dangerous shoal. He resigned himself and gave his +comrade his hand.</p> + +<p>"Run no risks and take care of yourself until I come back," he said.</p> + +<p>"Good luck!" said Wyndham and jumped into the canoe.</p> + +<p>Marston signed to the steersman, the sails filled, and the canoe dropped +astern. <i>Columbine</i> gathered speed and listed down, throwing spray about +while the water foamed below her lee rail. Small white waves rolled down +the glittering track ahead and Marston's mood got lighter. After all, it +was a relief to put to sea; the salt wind was tonic and blew morbid +thoughts away. It was bracing to grapple with breaking waves and savage +squalls.</p> + +<p>He looked astern. The canoe had vanished and a misty line indicated the +land. Marston was conscious of a strange repugnance as he watched it +fade. Sickness lurked in the steamy forest, where the gloom was touched +by mystery and something of horror. For a time, he had done with it, and +he would come back strengthened and invigorated by the change.</p> + +<p>He gave the helmsman the course, and going to the cabin, opened a tin +box that held letters for England<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> and manifests of cargo. He must copy +these out on the bills of lading when he transshipped the goods and as +he studied the lists he felt some surprise. <i>Columbine</i> did not carry +much but her freight was valuable. Some had been put on board without +his knowing and he thought it strange Wyndham had not talked about its +cost. For example, there were small pearls. One found pearls at places +on the Caribbean, but the fisheries were jealously guarded and none were +near the lagoon. Then there was a packet of ambergris and Marston knew +ambergris was worth much. Don Felix had said nothing about this curious +stuff, which the cachalot whales throw up, and Marston wondered where +Wyndham had got it.</p> + +<p>The voyage was obviously going to pay, but the strange thing was, their +cargo for the most part had come down after the agent died. To some +extent this bore out Marston's conclusion that the old mulatto was the +Bat and had power over Don Felix's uncivilized customers. Marston began +to muse about the fellow. He had power; one felt it, although he was old +and repulsive. Something indicated that he had inherited from his white +ancestors qualities not often found in half-breeds. Marston began to see +that this was partly why the fellow repelled him; one got a hint of +intelligence put to a base use.</p> + +<p>The matter was not important, and he pondered about his finding Wyndham +and the other in the cabin. Harry was badly shaken, although Marston +knew his pluck. Something very strange and startling was needed to drive +the blood from his face and bring the sweat to his forehead. All the +same, it was ridiculous to imagine the mulatto had frightened him. The +old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> fellow was clever and no doubt claimed to be a magician in the +bush, but Harry was not the man to be cheated by his tricks. After a +time, Marston gave it up and went on deck.</p> + +<p><i>Columbine</i> leaned over to the steady breeze. The sea was flecked with +white and a spray shower leaped about her bows. A foaming wake trailed +behind her and Marston's heart got light as he heard the shrouds hum and +felt her measured swing. He liked the sense of speed and buoyancy, the +feeling that he had control of straining wood and sail. To fight the +sudden wild Northers and keep her off reefs and shoals was a man's job, +but it was a job he knew. He did not know the other that Mabel had given +him, and often felt puzzled. Yet he had undertaken it and meant to make +good. By-and-by he went down to the cabin and to bed.</p> + +<p>After a quick run he reached port, transacted some business, shipped his +cargo home by steamer, and then returned to the lagoon, where he found +Wyndham had another load ready. On the night after his arrival they sat +in the cabin, talking, and although Wyndham said nothing about the +mulatto he was frank. Indeed, Marston smiled when he remembered the +doubts with which he had left his comrade. All the same, he thought he +noted something about Harry he had not known before.</p> + +<p>"You will sail again as soon as we can load the cargo, but for another +port," Wyndham said. "We have, so to speak, found a treasure house and +want to keep it dark. If other folks get to know, the treasure will soon +be picked up. Anybody can buy a pretty good chart of the coast for a few +shillings, and we have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> been lucky so far, largely because the shoals +keep steamers out."</p> + +<p>"The thing will be known sometime," Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>"Of course, but I hope to get the most part of the stuff that's worth +getting before our rivals come in."</p> + +<p>"After that you'll let this branch of the business go?"</p> + +<p>"I think not," Wyndham replied. "If I can find a good agent, we ought to +hold our ground in the regular trade, although the profits will not be +large."</p> + +<p>"But you, yourself, don't mean to stay very long?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Wyndham. "When I get the best of the produce that seems to +have been piling up and appoint our agent, I'll willingly clear out; but +I don't expect to do so for three or four months. I've got my chance now +and must seize it."</p> + +<p>"Three months is a long time to stay at the lagoon. Besides, who will +look after the business at home?"</p> + +<p>"My manager is pretty capable, though he's young and recently promoted. +Would you like to go?"</p> + +<p>Marston laughed. "I'm not a business man. Would you trust me?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it would be rash. You're a careful fellow, Bob, and it +begins to look as if you had talents you didn't know. You have +transacted our business like a shipping clerk."</p> + +<p>For a moment or two Marston hesitated. Wyndham looked amused and Bob +admitted that the situation had a touch of humor. He meant to stay at a +place for which he had a strange, superstitious dislike,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> in order to +help his comrade, who would sooner be left alone.</p> + +<p>"I may go by-and-by, but I won't go yet," he replied.</p> + +<p>They let the matter drop and in the morning Wyndham went up the creek in +the boat. He stated, rather vaguely, that he must arrange about some +cargo and it was three or four days before he returned. Then Marston +sailed with another load for a different port, and the French creole who +shipped the goods to England was frankly surprised by their value. +Indeed, his remarks indicated that the freight was worth much more than +Marston had thought. The latter returned to the lagoon, satisfied in one +way, but disturbed in another, and did not see much of his comrade.</p> + +<p>Wyndham often left the vessel, and although he did not tell Marston +where he went, the loaded canoes that came down the creek hinted that he +was usefully engaged. It was plain that the business was remarkably +profitable, but Marston imagined Wyndham was overdoing the thing. He +began to look worn and was sometimes moody, for a white man cannot +strain brain and body hard in the tropic swamps.</p> + +<p>Marston got uneasy about him, but to some extent sympathized. They could +not long enjoy their monopoly, rivals would soon be attracted to the +lagoon, and Harry was justified in seizing his chance. He had not +thought Harry greedy, but there was much at stake; Chisholm's approval, +Harry's business standing, and his marriage to Flora. Marston could +understand his comrade's running heavy risks for a girl like that.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>Still he was bothered because he did not know all the risks; it was +possible that Harry was being driven far by his very natural ambition, +but there were lengths to which one ought not to go.</p> + +<p>Another thing puzzled Marston. Don Felix had known the negroes and had, +moreover, negro blood in his veins, but the trade had not extended until +he was dead. It was strange the efforts of a white man and a stranger +had led to the sudden extension. Harry had obviously qualities and +knowledge that had not marked the other. But what were the qualities, +and what did he know? Although Marston sometimes brooded over this, he +saw no light.</p> + +<p>One evening he sat in the cabin and studied their trading accounts while +Wyndham smoked. It was very hot and Marston's face and hands were wet +with sweat and his eyes were dazzled. Flies hovered about the light and +now and then a beetle struck the mosquito gauze in the skylight. +Presently Marston put down his pen and frowned.</p> + +<p>"My brain's dull to-night," he said. "I ought to be satisfied with the +results of our venture, but there are things I don't see quite plain. +For example, we have got a lot of stuff for which we don't seem to have +paid."</p> + +<p>"You are supercargo," Wyndham rejoined. "The accounts are yours and +they're remarkably accurate. All we have got is properly charged against +us."</p> + +<p>"That is so; I have used your figures. All the same, we haven't handed +over much money."</p> + +<p>"The business is largely done by barter."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Marston, with a touch of im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span>patience. "We haven't +delivered much goods against the account."</p> + +<p>"The goods will be delivered. Our customers haven't yet stated the +articles they want."</p> + +<p>"This means they trust us until we can bring the stuff from England or +America? In fact, they're willing to trust us for some time?"</p> + +<p>"It looks like that," said Wyndham and laughed. "Are you puzzled about +it, Bob? After all, Wyndhams' has long traded here and the house's +reputation is obviously pretty good."</p> + +<p>"But I understand your agents never got such stuff as we have got."</p> + +<p>"They were agents and we are principals; I expect that accounts for +something," Wyndham replied with a twinkle. "Besides, Wyndhams' never +had a supercargo like you."</p> + +<p>Marston frowned and tried to think of some other matters that had +excited his curiosity, but could not make the effort, and Wyndham put a +bottle and glasses on the table.</p> + +<p>"Shut the books and I'll mix a cocktail," he said. "You're working too +hard and it's very hot."</p> + +<p>They went to bed soon afterwards and when he awoke Marston's head ached +and he did not get up. He thought he had a dose of fever and felt +strangely annoyed. Somehow he had not expected to get fever; he had +thought Harry might get it, and to be kept in his bunk was a +complication he had not reckoned on. Although Wyndham dosed him as the +medical book directed, the fever did not abate. For some days he tossed +about in his narrow bunk with a throbbing head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> and pain in his limbs, +and then lay half-conscious in limp exhaustion. He had strange dreams +and long remembered ones; indeed, he sometimes doubted if it were all a +dream.</p> + +<p>He imagined he was back at the factory on the African river and +Wyndham's uncle, the man who vanished, was in the big mildewed room. +Marston saw him come out of his door and stand for a moment listening, +with his face touched by the moonlight; and then run forward and stop by +the body on the boards. The dream was horribly vivid and real, but the +big room got hazy and melted, as it were, into <i>Columbine</i>'s cabin.</p> + +<p>Marston saw the lamp, turned low, hang at an angle to the beams, and the +charts and cargo books in the net rack. He smelt the mud and heard the +ripples splash against the schooner's side. Somebody sat in front of the +table and when the man looked up he saw it was Rupert Wyndham. Marston +knew him because he had seen his portrait, but his hair had gone white +and his skin very dark. In fact, he did not look like a white man. He +got up and his face and bent figure melted as the room at the factory +had melted, but very slowly got distinct again and Marston thrilled with +repulsion and horror. Rupert Wyndham had changed to the old mulatto.</p> + +<p>His naked feet made no noise as he crossed the floor and Marston +struggled to get up but could not. His lips refused to move when he +tried to call for help; the old fellow had fixed his bloodshot eyes on +him and he felt powerless. The mulatto stopped by his bunk, holding out +a glass, and Marston knew he meant to poison him. He resolved he would +not drink,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> but felt he must. There was something in the fellow's steady +look that broke his resistance and for a few moments he fought a +horrible battle against a strange conquering force. Then he took the +glass and drained it, and the mulatto melted away. He did not vanish. +This implied suddenness; he faded out of the cabin by imperceptible +degrees.</p> + +<p>Marston knew no more and awoke in daylight, haunted by the dream. He was +surprised to feel he was not worse; indeed, his head did not ache and +although he was very weak the pain in his limbs had gone. His throat was +parched and there was a strange taste in his mouth, as if he had +swallowed the draught he dreamed about. Wyndham sat on the locker and +got up when he saw Marston was awake.</p> + +<p>"You look different. I think you have seen the worst," he said. "I've +been bothered about you, Bob."</p> + +<p>Marston smiled. He did not want to talk and the relief he saw in his +comrade's face was soothing. He went to sleep again and it was dark when +he awoke. He did not dream that night and in a few days got, rather +shakily, out of his bunk. Wyndham put some cushions for him on the +locker and they began to talk.</p> + +<p>"The boat's full to the hatches and we go to sea to-morrow," Wyndham +said. "If the wind keeps fair, I expect to put you on board the Spanish +liner for the Canaries in three or four days. You'll transfer to a +homeward Cape boat when you arrive."</p> + +<p>"But I don't want to go home yet," Marston objected.</p> + +<p>"You are going all the same," Wyndham declared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> "You have been very ill +and a sick man hasn't much chance in this miasmatic air. There's no use +in arguing; you have got to go."</p> + +<p>Marston grumbled, but they sailed with the next high tide, and when they +made the port where the Spanish steamer lay he let Wyndham help him on +board.</p> + +<hr class="medium2" /> + +<h2><a name="PART_II" id="PART_II"></a>PART II<br /> +<span class="smalltext">WYNDHAM CLAIMS HIS REWARD</span></h2> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="chapterone"><a name="CHAPTER_II_I" id="CHAPTER_II_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /> +<span class="smalltext">MABEL PONDERS</span></h2> + + +<p>It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Marston sat by a window in an +English country house. His pose was limp and his face was thin, for the +fever had shaken him, but he felt his strength coming back. Outside, +bare trees shook their branches in a fresh west wind, and a white belt +of surf crept across the shining sands in the broad estuary. On the +other side, the Welsh hills rose against the sunset in a smooth black +line.</p> + +<p>Marston felt pleasantly languid and altogether satisfied. Mabel had put +a cushion under his head and given him a footstool. It was soothing to +be taken care of by one whom one loved, and after the glare of the +Caribbean and the gloom of the swamps, the soft colors and changing +lights of the English landscape rested his eyes. For all that, they did +not wander long from Mabel, who sat close by, quietly pondering. With +her yellow hair and delicate pink skin she looked very English, and all +that was English had an extra charm for Marston. He liked her thoughtful +calm. Mabel was normal; she, so to speak, walked in the light, and the +extravagant imaginings he had indulged at the lagoon vanished when she +was about.</p> + +<p>Yet he had been forced to remember much, for Chisholm and Flora had come +to hear his story, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> he had felt he must make them understand in +order to do his comrade justice. Flora's grateful glance and the sparkle +in Chisholm's eyes hinted that he had not altogether failed.</p> + +<p>"It's a moving tale; I felt I was young again," Chisholm remarked when +Marston stopped. "A daring voyage for a craft as old as <i>Columbine</i> and +Harry obviously handled her well. Some folks declare we're decadent, but +my notion is, a race that loves the sea can't lose its vigor, and the +spirit that sent out the old adventurers is living yet. Well, I wish I +had been with you!" He paused with an apologetic smile and turned to +Flora. "It's plain that Harry has qualities."</p> + +<p>"He has a good partner," Flora replied and gave Marston a friendly nod. +"I mean that, Bob."</p> + +<p>"The persistence of the family type is a curious thing," Chisholm +resumed. "In old times, Wyndhams' sent out slavers and privateers, and +although Harry's modern, he's taking the path his ancestors trod. Well, +in a sense, he's lucky, because he can make seafaring pay. The rest of +us must indulge it tamely on board a yacht and, however you economize, +yachting costs you much."</p> + +<p>"Harry has a talent for making his occupations pay," Marston agreed and +noted that Flora knitted her brows.</p> + +<p>"You are romantic, father," she said. "I don't think Harry is taking his +ancestors' path. They were hard and reckless men and traded in flesh and +blood. You trade in rubber and dyewoods, don't you, Bob?"</p> + +<p>"For the most part. However, we get a bit of everything; ambergris, +pearls, and curious drugs."</p> + +<p>"I like pearls," Flora remarked, but stopped rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> abruptly and Mabel +gave Marston a quick glance. He thought he saw what she meant; he must +not talk about pearls just then.</p> + +<p>After a time Flora said they must go, and went out with Mabel, but +Chisholm stopped by Marston's chair.</p> + +<p>"It looks as if you were quite satisfied about this venture of +Wyndham's, Bob," he said.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," Marston replied. "I've backed my approval by investing a +good sum."</p> + +<p>Chisholm was quiet for a moment or two, and then resumed: "That is not +altogether what I meant; in fact, it's hard to state frankly what I do +mean. I like Harry Wyndham. He's clever, resolute, and a good sportsman, +but when he wanted to marry Flora I hesitated. Well, your story has +given me some comfort. You have been with Wyndham and are satisfied. One +can trust you."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, sir," Marston answered with a touch of awkwardness. +"The business is risky, the climate's bad, and one must use some +control. Leave liquor alone, for example; I think you understand! Still +Harry's rather a Spartan; there's an ascetic vein in him. Besides, he +won't stay long. As soon as he has put things straight he's coming +back."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Chisholm, but when he went off Marston felt +embarrassed.</p> + +<p>Chisholm trusted him and he was not sure he had been altogether frank. +Wyndham, of course, was free from certain gross temptations to which +some white men in the tropics were victims; but there were others, +subtle and insidious, that rather appealed to the brain than the body. +Marston could not declare that Harry resisted these. Yet it was +impossible he should tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> Chisholm his vague but disturbing doubts. It +was some relief when Mabel returned and sat down opposite.</p> + +<p>"Have they tired you, Bob?" she asked. "Light a cigarette and don't talk +unless you want."</p> + +<p>"I want to talk," said Marston, who used no reserve with her.</p> + +<p>"Very well. To begin with, you saw my hint when Flora talked about the +pearls."</p> + +<p>Marston laughed. "After all, I'm not so dull as some people think. You +didn't want Flora to know I had brought you pearls?"</p> + +<p>"Something like that. Why did Harry send her none?"</p> + +<p>"It's rather puzzling," Marston replied thoughtfully. "I suggested I +should take a few to Flora, but he said they were not good enough. +They're not really first-class pearls, you know. Then he said they might +be unlucky. The strange thing is, I think he meant it."</p> + +<p>"Yet you brought some for me? You're honest, but you don't always use +much tact, dear Bob!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well. We're not superstitious and I'd no grounds for thinking the +pearls would bring bad luck."</p> + +<p>"It looks as if your partner had some grounds."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Marston. "I don't understand the thing. For that matter, I +was puzzled about other things now and then, and although I wanted to +get back to you I felt shabby about coming home. Somehow I had a notion +I ought to stay. After all, you let me go and would like me to finish my +job."</p> + +<p>"You're rather a dear and very staunch," Mabel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> remarked with a gentle +smile. "Anyhow, you were ill and had done enough."</p> + +<p>She was quiet for a time and Marston was satisfied to smoke and study +her. It had got dark, but the fire was bright and touched her face while +she sat still, as if lost in concentrated thought. Marston thought her +beautiful and she had beauty, but her beauty was not her strongest +charm.</p> + +<p>"Bob," she remarked presently, "yours was a curious dream."</p> + +<p>"I had fever, you know, but the thing was remarkably real. It was like +lantern pictures melting on the screen. Background and figures were +accurate and lifelike. In the last scene, I knew I was in <i>Columbine</i>'s +cabin and can hardly persuade myself I was quite asleep. The tide +splashed about the boat; I could smell the mud."</p> + +<p>"Yet you saw Wyndham's uncle change into the horrible old mulatto."</p> + +<p>Marston nodded. "He faded and got distinct again, different, but not +different altogether. This was the puzzling thing. However, the story +the agent told us about the Leopards had haunted me and I'd often +thought about Rupert Wyndham. Perhaps it was because I saw his portrait +and he was like my partner."</p> + +<p>"You mean he was like him physically?"</p> + +<p>"That's not all. Of course a portrait doesn't tell one very much, but I +thought Harry had Rupert's temperament."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mabel, knitting her straight brows. "To begin with, do you +know Rupert Wyndham's temperament?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span>"In a way; Harry and Ellams, the agent, talked about him much. He was a +daring man; I think reckless is the proper word. We sober folks have our +code, we must do this and not the other; men like Rupert Wyndham have +none. If a thing looked worth getting, he'd venture much and break rules +for it. Harry, you know, is like that; I mean he'd venture much. Well, I +think Rupert made some rash experiments in Africa. He studied the +negroes' habits and tried to get their point of view."</p> + +<p>"With an object, you suggest? What did he want?"</p> + +<p>"Harry imagined it was power."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mabel. "Harry wants Flora. And he has Rupert's recklessness!"</p> + +<p>Marston made a sign of disagreement. "There's a difference. A man might +do much for power; but for a girl like Flora he must be fastidious. It +wouldn't help if he got money and lost her respect. Harry knows this. +He's not a fool."</p> + +<p>"But suppose Flora didn't know how he got his money?"</p> + +<p>"Harry doesn't cheat. He wouldn't use means she disapproved and then +claim his reward."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Mabel, "I think we'll let it go. I like you to trust +your friends."</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards a car came to the steps and Mabel saw that Marston put +on a warm scarf and fastened his collar before he drove off. Then she +went back to the fire and pondered his story and subsequent remarks. The +story was strange, but she thought she saw a light where all was dark to +Bob. She had long suspected that Wyndham was reckless and would not be +bound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> by rules if the prize he sought made his breaking them worth +while. Moreover, she had got books about West Africa and the Caribbean +that touched on Fetish and Voodoo superstitions. Perhaps she was +romantic, but it was possible Wyndham, led by strong temptation, had +ventured where a white man ought not to go. With an effort, Mabel +banished her doubts. After all, the thing was unthinkable. Bob had not +been cheated; he knew Harry.</p> + +<p>In the morning, Marston occupied himself with some old books in +Wyndhams' office at the top of a big stone building. The office was +comfortably furnished and there was a good picture of an old-fashioned +sailing ship on the wall; the big single-top sails indicated when she +was built. At the end of the street the window commanded, the masts and +funnels of channel steamers rose above a warehouse where Wyndhams' barks +and brigs had loaded goods they bartered for slaves. Marston glanced at +the modern iron masts and smiled when he looked up, for the book he +studied had nothing to do with business.</p> + +<p>It was the log of the slaver <i>Providence</i> that Wyndham had talked about, +and it related how they towed her with the boats when the negroes died +in the suffocating hold. There was something about a sacrifice that did +not bring the needed wind and its cost was charged against the freight. +They were hard men, touched by strange superstitions, who towed the +<i>Providence</i>, but their brutality was businesslike. Marston found an +entry for the negroes used up at the oars, with their value at Jamaica +properly noted.</p> + +<p>After a time, he shut the log-book. He had read enough and resolved +there would be a break in some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> of Wyndhams' traditions now he was a +partner in the house. He had noted things he did not like, and Harry +would support his new plans when he came home. By and by he heard steps +in the clerks' office and a broker was announced. The latter came in and +put a small brown jar on the table.</p> + +<p>"I told your people we wanted some hard oil and they sent us samples," +he said. "If the bulk's quite up to specimen, I think it ought to meet +the bill. We must have prime quality for the particular job."</p> + +<p>Marston picked up the jar, which held a quantity of thick yellow grease. +It was palm oil and its strong but rather pleasant smell awoke vivid +memories. He saw the whitewashed factory shine beside the muddy river +and a gang of naked negroes filling big barrels in a compound tunneled +by land-crabs' holes. The compound glowed with light against a +background of forest wrapped in unchanging gloom, from which the palm +oil came. For all that, the oil was a well-known article of commerce. +There was nothing mysterious about its production and Marston would have +been satisfied had Wyndhams' confined its trade to stuff like this. Then +he saw the broker was waiting.</p> + +<p>"Don't samples generally stand for the bulk?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The broker looked at him rather sharply and smiled.</p> + +<p>"It depends upon the people with whom you deal and the skill of their +warehouseman. A man who knows his job can draw samples that will pass a +good-middling lot as prime, and this without the buyer's being able to +claim that they're not fairly representative. But of course, you +know——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>"I don't know. You see, I'm a beginner," Marston replied, and examined a +ticket stuck in the oil. "Well, I saw this lot barreled in Africa. The +quality is <i>not</i> prime."</p> + +<p>The broker looked surprised and annoyed. "Then your manager has made +things rather awkward for us. One uses some judgment about samples, but +our customer must have a first-class article and we engaged to supply +him at a stated price. I'll own that the price was a little below what +others asked. We quoted on your offer."</p> + +<p>"Our offer stands," said Marston, who indicated the jar. "Will you be +satisfied if the oil we send is all like this?"</p> + +<p>"We will be quite satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Send in the order and you'll get the quality you want."</p> + +<p>The broker lighted a cigarette and gave Marston his case. "I like the +way you do business. We are buying for big people, the trade's steady +and good, but we haven't dealt much with Wyndhams' before. If this lot's +all right, other orders will follow."</p> + +<p>"You can take it for granted the lot will be all right," Marston +replied.</p> + +<p>He frowned when the broker went out. It looked as if Wyndhams' goods had +not always been up to sample and Marston remembered hints he heard about +the character of the house. Harry, however had not long had control and +had, perhaps, left things to his clerks. It was going to be different +now.</p> + +<p>Presently Marston got up and went to the general office where he +interviewed the young manager. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> did not say much, but he was very +firm and when he returned to his room the other shrugged.</p> + +<p>"If the new partner takes this line, your next balance sheet won't be +good," he remarked to the book-keeper.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_II" id="CHAPTER_II_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /> +<span class="smalltext">MABEL'S PEARLS</span></h2> + + +<p>Four months after Marston reached England, Wyndham came home. He had got +thin and, when he was quiet, looked worn, but he had returned in triumph +and soon persuaded Marston that his efforts had earned a rich reward. +Things had gone better than his letters indicated.</p> + +<p>On the evening of his arrival, he waited in Flora's drawing-room for +Chisholm, who had not yet got back from his office at the port. Electric +lights burned above the mantel and Wyndham sat by the cheerful fire, +with Flora in a low chair opposite. For a time she had listened while he +talked, and now her eyes rested on him with keen but tranquil +satisfaction. Harry had come back, as she had known he would come, like +a conqueror. She was proud that he had justified her trust, and although +it had been hard to let him go, this did not matter.</p> + +<p>She was ashamed of her hesitation when he first declared himself her +lover, but the suspicion that she was rash had not lasted long. Flora +was loyal and when she had accepted him looked steadily forward. It was +not her habit to doubt and look back. One thing rather disturbed her; +Harry was obviously tired. Before he went away his talk and laugh were +marked by a curious sparkle that Flora thought like the sparkle of wine. +This had gone, but, in a way, she liked him better, although his sober +mood was new.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>By-and-by he glanced about the room, which was rather plainly furnished, +but with a hint of artistic taste. Chisholm was not rich and the taste +was Flora's. Then he moved his chair and leaned forward to the fire with +a languid smile.</p> + +<p>"Our English cold is bracing, but it bites keen when one has known the +tropics," he said. "I like light and warmth."</p> + +<p>"You got both on the Caribbean," Flora remarked.</p> + +<p>"No," said Wyndham, "not much light. For a few hours, the glare was +dazzling, but soon the shadow crept back from the bush and the +fever-mist floated about the boat. On the creek and at the village, you +got a sense of gloom that never melted." He paused and added with a +smile: "It's often like that in the tropics, and the gloom is not +altogether physical."</p> + +<p>Flora noted the thinness of his face and his pallor. Her glance got soft +and pitiful.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" she said. "I wanted you to win; not that I cared for your +winning, but because I wanted you to satisfy others who do not know you +so well."</p> + +<p>"Your father, for example?" he rejoined with a twinkle. "Well, he took +the proper line, but I think I have some arguments that will persuade +him."</p> + +<p>"I sent you," she said, with a touch of color. "Afterwards I saw that I +was shabby and vain. I ought not to have let you go. What did it matter +about the others, when I was satisfied? You have won and they will own +this, but I'm afraid it has cost you much."</p> + +<p>Wyndham gave her a rather sharp glance and then smiled. "One must pay +for what one gets, but, if it's much comfort, I was very willing."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>"You were always generous, but I'm afraid you're sometimes rash."</p> + +<p>"The rashness was justified. If I had to choose again, I'd stake my all, +fortune, mind, and body, and think the risk worth while."</p> + +<p>"You're very nice," said Flora, and added with a blush: "But, in one +way, there was no risk. Even if you had been beaten, I would have +persuaded father. It was rather for his sake you went than mine and +that's why I'm half ashamed. But he deserved something; he has long +indulged me."</p> + +<p>She got up. There were steps in the passage, and Chisholm came in. +Wyndham stayed for dinner and afterwards went with Chisholm to his +smoking-room and gave him a document.</p> + +<p>"My book-keeper drafted the statement, because I thought you ought to +know where I stand," he said. "The sum indicated could be invested for +Flora. Not much of a marriage settlement of course, but perhaps it will +help to banish your very natural doubts."</p> + +<p>Chisholm studied the paper with some surprise. "You have done much +better than I thought; I don't know if this is flattering or not. In +fact, when one remembers that you have not long been head of the house, +your success is rather remarkable."</p> + +<p>"I ran some risks," said Wyndham, smiling. "We have got started; perhaps +I'm optimistic, but I came home persuaded we are going on. It's possible +we may go far."</p> + +<p>"You have a good partner," Chisholm remarked.</p> + +<p>"The best!" Wyndham agreed quietly.</p> + +<p>Chisholm liked his hint of feeling, but hesitated, although there was no +obvious reason for this. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> liked Wyndham, and the latter was on the +way to mend his fortune. All the same, he shrank, rather illogically, +from giving his formal consent to the wedding.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, with something of an effort, "I'm glad your affairs are +going as well as you hoped and I suppose you now expect me to keep my +promise. I've no grounds to refuse and you can marry Flora when she is +ready."</p> + +<p>Wyndham went soon afterwards and Chisholm said to Flora, "You declared +Harry would force me to approve and he has done so."</p> + +<p>"What do you approve?" Flora asked, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Chisholm, "I think I see what you suggest. Looks as if +I must be frank. Since my duty is to take care of you, it's a big relief +to find Harry is a good business man and is going to make Wyndhams' +prosperous. I like to feel he's able to give you all you ought to have."</p> + +<p>Flora's glance was proud. "I want you to be satisfied, and it was for +this I let Harry go. I would not have hesitated had he come back +disappointed and poor. Now I feel half cheated, because, in one way, he +doesn't need my help."</p> + +<p>"You are a plucky girl," said Chisholm. "Still I expect it's better he +has come back rich. After all, romance wears off, and then, if money's +short, the strain begins."</p> + +<p>"Your philosophy's not very good," Flora rejoined with a laugh. "Real +romance never wears off; the strain's the test that marks the difference +between the true and false. However, since you have carried out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> your +duty and used a caution that's rather new, you ought to be happy."</p> + +<p>She kissed him and he let her go, but he was thoughtful afterwards. He +felt he ought to be happy, but somehow he was not. By-and-by he got up +and went to meet Mabel and Marston, whom he heard come in. A famous +Shakespearian actor was visiting the town and Marston had called to +suggest that they should see the play together. They fixed a night, +without knowing in which of his favorite parts the tragedian would +appear. Mabel said this was not important, because he was good in all.</p> + +<p>When the car stopped at the theater she went with Flora to the +cloak-room and began to take off her furs in front of a long glass. As +she did so she hesitated, because she remembered something she ought to +have remembered before. It was too late now, for as the cloak slipped +off her shoulders a string of small pearls caught the light. Flora had +not long since said she liked pearls. Then Mabel saw that Flora had seen +the pearls, and thought she had noted her hesitation, because she +smiled.</p> + +<p>"They are very pretty," Flora remarked. "I suppose Bob gave them to +you?"</p> + +<p>"They are small," said Mabel deprecatingly, but not because she did not +value her lover's present. "Bob said something about their not getting +any Harry thought good enough to send home."</p> + +<p>"Bob and you are very nice, but you're sometimes obvious," Flora +rejoined. "However, I'm not jealous, and if the pearls are small, they +stand for much."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>"These stand for endurance and bold adventure. I think Bob did not get +them easily."</p> + +<p>"That would not matter to Bob," said Flora. "But I wonder what they cost +the others, the dark-skinned men who found them on the sands beneath the +Caribbean. Pearls, you know, sometimes stand for tears." She moved from +the glass, for the room was filling, and smiled as she resumed: "I don't +know why I indulge a morbid sentiment when I'm happy. You will never +have much grounds to cry for Bob."</p> + +<p>They went down a passage and found their places in the stalls. The house +was full and Marston had engaged such seats as he could get. Wyndham, +Flora and Chisholm were in front; Mabel and Marston in the row behind.</p> + +<p>"<i>Macbeth!</i>" he said as he gave Mabel a program. "Rather curious; but I +like the play. Kind of plot one can understand."</p> + +<p>"Why is it curious?" Mabel asked. "Don't you understand them all?"</p> + +<p>"Not like this," said Marston, with a touch of awkwardness. "The +motto—or d'you call it the motive?—is plain from the start. 'Ambition +that over-leaps itself,' if I'm quoting right."</p> + +<p>Mabel said nothing. Bob was not clever, but he was sometimes shrewd and +she saw what was in his mind. This was easier because he looked +uncomfortable. The poor fellow felt he had not been quite loyal to his +friend. Then Mabel frowned. Perhaps Bob had seen clearly; there <i>was</i> a +parallel.</p> + +<p>The lights went out and when the curtain rose Marston tried to banish +his disturbing thoughts and enjoy the play. He had seen it often, but +the story<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> gripped him with a force he had not felt before. All was well +done. Pale flames played round the witches' cauldron, and there was +something strangely suggestive about the bent figures that hovered about +the fire and faded in the gloom. He had sometimes thought the +witch-scene unnecessary, but now he felt its significance. In +Shakespeare's days, men believed in witchcraft, and when one had been in +Africa one owned there were powers that ruled the dark. Bob was quiet +and listened, with his mouth firmly set.</p> + +<p>A line caught his notice: "Her husband's to Aleppo gone, the master of +the Tiger." Marston had not thought much about this before, but he saw +the strange, high-pooped old vessel, manned by merchant adventurers, +plunge across the surges of the Levant. She was a type; there were +always merchant adventurers, and he pictured <i>Columbine</i> rolling on the +African surf.</p> + +<p>Then for a time he let the play absorb him. The witches were tempting +Macbeth, flattering his ambition, promising him power. The gloom and the +flickering light round the cauldron recalled Africa; Marston had seen +the naked factory boys crouch beside their fires, tapping little drums, +and singing strange, monotonous songs that sounded like incantations. He +thought about Rupert Wyndham; witches were numerous in Africa and +Marston wondered what they had promised him. Was it power? Or knowledge +the cautious white man shuns? Marston glanced at Wyndham, in front. He +had not spoken since the curtain rose and the pose of his head indicated +that his eyes were fixed on the stage. He was very still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> and Marston +thought the drama had seized his imagination.</p> + +<p>The cauldron fire leaped up, throwing red reflections that touched a +figure moving in the gloom. Marston wondered whether his eyes were +dazzled, for the hooded figure began to look like the Bat. Then there +was a flash, the witches vanished, and he felt a strange relief when the +curtain fell and the lights went up.</p> + +<p>"Very well done! A realistic scene!" Wyndham remarked, looking round. +"Did you know it was <i>Macbeth</i>, Bob?"</p> + +<p>"I did not," said Marston. "If I had known, I think I'd have picked +another night."</p> + +<p>Wyndham looked hard at him, and then laughed and began to talk to Flora, +but Marston felt jarred. Harry laughed like that in moments of tension +when others swore. Then he saw that Mabel was studying him.</p> + +<p>"You are quiet, Bob," she said.</p> + +<p>"It's long since I saw a good play," Marston replied. "My first +relaxation since I got to work, and I expect it grips me harder because +it's fresh. Full house, isn't it? Do you know many people?"</p> + +<p>"I see one or two friends of yours. They have been looking at you, but +you wouldn't turn."</p> + +<p>"I didn't see them," said Marston. "I've got the habit of dropping +people since I joined Wyndhams'. Regular work is something of a novelty +and while the newness lasts you get absorbed. I don't know if it's good +or not. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>Mabel laughed. "Well done, Bob! It cost you something, but you felt you +ought to talk."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>"It oughtn't to have cost me anything," said Marston apologetically. +"But how did you know?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, you're honest and obvious. Besides, we do know things, by +instinct perhaps. I would always know when you were disturbed."</p> + +<p>"I'm not disturbed. You are here."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mabel, "now you're very nice! But let's be frank. You were +thinking about another drama, in real life, that touches you close. I +see one comfort; there's no Lady Macbeth in the piece."</p> + +<p>Marston agreed and mused. The light was good, and touched Mabel's face +and neck where the small pearls shone. He saw Flora's face in profile, +her shoulders, and the flowing curve of her arm. He liked the fine poise +of her head. She looked proud and somehow vivid; one got a hint of her +fearless, impulsive character. Her hair and eyes were brown and she wore +a corn-yellow dress. Mabel's skin was white and red, and her dull-blue +clothes matched the color of her eyes. She was calm, steadfast, and +sometimes reserved, a contrast to Flora, although in ways they were +alike. Both were honest and hated what was mean. Marston felt comforted. +There was no Lady Macbeth in the piece.</p> + +<p>Moreover, a glance along the rows of people was calming. There were +business men with shining, bald heads, and some younger whose clothes +were cut in the latest mode. Women of different ages, for the most part +fashionably dressed, sat among the others, but all wore the conventional +English stamp. There was nothing extravagant about them; Marston thought +they sat contentedly by modern hearths. They were not the people to +follow wandering fires. Perhaps he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> was something of a romantic fool; +but when one had been in Africa and the swamps beside the Caribbean—</p> + +<p>The play went on. He saw Macbeth's ambitions realized. The witches' +promises were fulfilled, but with fulfillment came retribution that had +looked impossible. This was the touch that fixed Marston's thought. +Macbeth was cheated, but he must pay; the powers of evil lied. One +wondered whether it was always like that.</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell and the lights went up shortly before the end, +Marston remarked: "After all there were the witches. Lady Macbeth was, +so to speak, unnecessary."</p> + +<p>Mabel had indulged him before; indeed, his mood had chimed with hers, +but she thought he had followed this line far enough. His illness had +left a mark, and he sometimes brooded. She laughed when Flora turned.</p> + +<p>"Bob's getting to be a dramatic critic and something of a philosopher," +she said. "Perhaps he'll tell you how he would improve the play."</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean," Marston replied good-humoredly. "Aren't a man's +greed and ambition enough to drive him on, without an outside tempter?"</p> + +<p>"Without a bad woman to urge him?" Flora suggested.</p> + +<p>"When one comes to think of it, a good woman might be as dangerous as +the other," said Marston.</p> + +<p>Mabel frowned. She saw where her lover's remark led, but doubted if the +others did. She forced a laugh when Wyndham looked round.</p> + +<p>"Bob has a flash of imagination now and then," she said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>"I expect Bob would sooner leave out the witches, now he knows something +about Ghost Leopards and Voodoo," Wyndham replied. "Anyhow, I think the +mummery round the cauldron rather crude; the act was, no doubt, written +to meet the spirit of the times. Temptation by repulsive hags would not +appeal to an up-to-date young man. My notion of a tempter is an urbanely +ironical Mephistopheles."</p> + +<p>Marston said nothing. He remembered the Bat's strange, mocking grin; and +then roused himself and laughed. He was getting morbid; the wretched +fever had shaken him. He joked with Flora until the curtain rose and +when it came down on the closing scene resolved to forget the play.</p> + +<p>"I've ordered supper. It will brace us up," he said.</p> + +<p>They went to a crowded restaurant, and Marston liked the tinkle of +glass, voices, and cheerful laughter, but he shivered when they left the +glittering room and got into the car.</p> + +<p>"Put the rug round you before we start," said Mabel.</p> + +<p>"I think I will," Marston replied, apologetically. "I feel as if my +temperature was up; malaria has an annoying trick of coming back. When +it does come back, you get moody and pessimistic. Sorry if I bored you +to-night!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was malaria, but I wasn't bored," said Mabel, with an +indulgent smile.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_III" id="CHAPTER_II_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /> +<span class="smalltext">PETERS' OFFER</span></h2> + + +<p>Wyndham and Flora were married at a small country church. The morning +was bright and the sun touched the east window with vivid color and +pierced the narrow lancets on the south. Red and green reflections +stained the mosaics inside the chancel rails, but shadows lurked behind +the arches and pillars, for the old building had no clerestory.</p> + +<p>Mabel was bridesmaid, Marston was groomsman, and as he waited for a few +moments by the rails he looked about. Commodore Chisholm had numerous +friends, and for the most part Marston knew the faces turned towards the +chancel. He had sailed hard races against some of the men and danced +with their wives and daughters. They were sober English folk, and he was +glad they had come to stamp with their approval his partner's wedding. +Some, however, he could not see, because they sat back in the gloom.</p> + +<p>Then he glanced at his companions. He was nervous, but Mabel was marked +by her serene calm. Flora's look was rather fixed, and although she had +not much color, her pose was resolute and proud. Marston wondered +whether she felt she was making something of a plunge; but if she did +so, he knew she would not hesitate. Chisholm's face was quiet and +perhaps a trifle stern; he looked rather old, and Marston imagined him +resigned. The Commodore was frank; one generally knew what he felt. All +three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> looked typically English, but Wyndham did not. Although his eyes +were very blue and his hair was touched by red, he was different from +the others. His face, as Marston saw it in profile, was thin and in a +way ascetic, but it wore a stamp of recklessness. His pose was strangely +alert and highly strung. There was something exotic about him.</p> + +<p>The vicar began the office and Marston remarked with a sense of +annoyance that the church got dark, as if the sun had gone behind a +cloud. He was not superstitious, but he had had enough of gloom, and the +fever had left him with a touch of melancholy. He glanced at Mabel and +felt soothed. Her face was quiet and reverent; she was unostentatiously +religious and her calm confidence banished his doubts. After a few +minutes, the light got stronger, and yielding to a strange impulse, he +looked round. A sunbeam shone through a south window and picked out a +face he knew. Marston moved abruptly and came near forgetting how he was +engaged.</p> + +<p>The face stood out, yellow and withered, against the surrounding shadow. +The eyes were fixed on the wedding group and Marston thought their look +ironical, but the bright beam faded and he wondered whether he had been +deceived. It was hard to believe that Peters, whom he had last seen at +the lagoon, was in the church, and Marston hoped he was not. Peters +belonged to the fever-haunted forest; he brought back the gloom and +sense of mystery Bob wanted to forget. There was something strangely +inappropriate about his coming to Harry's wedding.</p> + +<p>Wyndham turned his head, although the movement hardly seemed enough to +enable him to look across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> church. Marston, however, roused himself, +for he had followed the office, and slipped the ring into his comrade's +hand. Wyndham put it on the book, and then as the vicar gave it back, +let it drop. There was a tinkle as it struck the tiles and, for a +moment, an awkward pause. Flora started and Chisholm frowned, but +Marston picked up the ring and when Wyndham put it on Flora's hand, +tried to feel he had not got a jar. Perhaps he was ridiculous, but he +wished Peters had stayed away and Harry had not dropped the ring.</p> + +<p>There was no further mishap, the sun shone out again and as its beams +drove back the shadows the gilded cross above the screen caught the +light and flashed. Mabel looked up. Marston thought her unconscious +movement directed his glance, and he was moved to tenderness and calm. +After the feeling of repugnance Peters had excited, the thing was +strangely significant and he knew the glittering symbol was Mabel's +guiding light.</p> + +<p>The vicar stopped. Flora gave Marston her hand in the vestry and he put +his on Wyndham's shoulder as he wished them happiness. In a few minutes +they went out and when Wyndham's car drove off Marston stood by the gate +with Mabel, waiting for theirs. People stood about talking to one +another, and Marston tried to hide his annoyance when a man outside the +group caught his eye. He had not been deceived; the fellow was Peters, +for he smiled.</p> + +<p>For a moment Marston hesitated. There was, however, no obvious reason +for his refusing to acknowledge Peters, and he nodded when he advanced. +The latter's clothes were in the latest fashion; he wore light gloves +and very neat varnished shoes. At a little dis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>tance he looked like a +prosperous Englishman, but as he came up and took off his hat the sun +touched his yellow, deep-lined face and the curious white tufts in his +hair. Then he looked pinched and shriveled.</p> + +<p>"I hardly thought to see you. Indeed, I imagined I had cheated myself," +Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>Peters laughed. "Our meeting is, after all, not strange. I landed a few +days since and stopped to transact some business before I go on to +Hamburg. A paragraph in a newspaper caught my eye, and, having nothing +to do this morning, I thought I'd come to your partner's wedding. Since +I really don't know him well I didn't stop him as he came out."</p> + +<p>"Will you be long in town?" Marston asked.</p> + +<p>"Another day or two," said Peters. "I must try to look you up."</p> + +<p>He stepped back as a car started, and Marston saw no more of him. On the +whole, he thought he had seen enough and was annoyed because Peters was +coming to the office. This, however, was not important and he forgot +about it.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon Mabel and he walked across a heathy common that sloped +to the river mouth. The tide was ebbing and thin white lines of surf +curved about the sands. Here and there a wet belt shone with reflections +from the sky; the woods and fields on the western shore were getting +dim, and a long range of hills rose against the fading light. The soft +colors and the hazy distance, where one heard the sea beat on the outer +shoals, were restful to Marston's eyes. He loved the quiet English +landscape, and glancing at Mabel, half-consciously gave thanks because +he was at home.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>"Who was the strange little man at the church?" Mabel asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Peters," said Marston. "We met him on the Caribbean. Did you think him +strange?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't study him. His eyes were strange; they seemed restless and +very keen. The white tufts in his hair were unusual."</p> + +<p>"Fever leaves its stamp when you get it often," Marston remarked. +"Besides, I expect the fellow has had some romantic adventures. Anyhow, +he's not a friend of ours. We gave him dinner on board because he was a +white man. That's all."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether Harry saw him, just before he dropped the ring."</p> + +<p>"What do you think?" Marston asked with some curiosity.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Harry looked round."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Marston. "If Harry did see him, I don't imagine it had +much to do with his dropping the ring."</p> + +<p>Mabel gave him a quiet glance. She knew Bob and thought he was trying to +persuade himself, not to cheat her.</p> + +<p>"Yet you did not like to see the man!"</p> + +<p>"I did not," Marston admitted. "He, so to speak, brought things back; +our agent's dying and the dreams I had when I was ill. Some people +belong to their surroundings. I mean, they stand for the places they +come from, and Peters belongs to the mangrove lagoons. You and Flora +stand for England; spots like this where all's bracing and calm. I think +we'll let Peters go."</p> + +<p>"You're very nice," said Mabel, smiling. "If we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> are going to flatter +each other, you stand for the sea."</p> + +<p>"No," said Marston. "The sea's restless, breezy, and sparkling, and I'm +not. You have got a rather dull fellow for a lover."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Mabel quietly, "you are my lover, Bob, and that means much."</p> + +<p>She mused while they crossed the heath in the fading light. Bob was not +what he called breezy and he did not sparkle, but she would not have him +other than he was. She had not often seen him angry, but she knew he +could be strongly moved and forces then set in motion were not easily +stopped. Bob was steadfast; this was, perhaps, the proper word. He had a +reserve of strength and tenacity, of which she thought he was not +altogether conscious. She had loved him long and it was significant that +she loved him better than at the beginning.</p> + +<p>By and by he looked at her. "I grudge Harry nothing and have much for +which I'm thankful. All the same, I envied him his luck to-day."</p> + +<p>"Poor old Bob!" said Mabel "But you know, when I promised——"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "I know and of course I'm satisfied. I can't urge you; but +sometimes, like to-day, waiting's hard."</p> + +<p>Mabel's eyes were very soft. There was love in her glance, but he got a +hint of tears.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, "I think you will not be forced to wait very long." +She paused and tried to smile as she resumed: "Never mind, Bob; you +needn't talk! I know your sympathy."</p> + +<p>He said nothing, but took her hand, and she felt comforted. Mrs. +Hilliard was a widow and had long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> been ill, and Bob had known Mabel +would not marry while her mother needed her. At the beginning, he had +urged that he was able to take care of both, and since he was rich +things might be made easier for the invalid if she lived with them. +Mabel, however, was firm, and Bob gave in. He would not argue that her +sense of duty was perhaps mistaken and Mrs. Hillard's refusal might be +selfish. Mabel's strong persuasion was enough for him.</p> + +<p>"You will come in and see her? She has been alone all day," Mabel said, +and Marston went.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Hilliard sat by the fire in an invalid's chair, and when he entered +gave him a friendly smile. She looked very pinched and fragile and he +thought Mabel's fears were justified. For an hour he talked about the +wedding and other matters as cheerfully as he could, and when he went +Mabel kissed him at the gate.</p> + +<p>"You are very good, Bob," she said. "I owe you much and some day I'll +try to pay my debt."</p> + +<p>In the morning Marston went to the office and soon afterwards Peters was +shown in. Marston gave him a cigar and they talked about the Caribbean.</p> + +<p>"I'm beginning to feel I've had enough," Peters presently remarked. +"Life in the swamps is strenuous and one likes quiet when one's no +longer young."</p> + +<p>"On the surface, things looked pretty dull. I felt languid as soon as I +arrived and didn't really wake up until I left."</p> + +<p>Peters smiled. "Yet I imagine you found the monotony is sometimes +broken. Besides, you didn't stay long enough to learn that much that's +curious goes on beneath the surface. There's an under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>world." He paused +and added meaningly: "On the whole, I think the term is pretty good."</p> + +<p>"I was satisfied with the surface. Anyhow, I didn't try to look +beneath," Marston rejoined, with some dryness. "In fact, I'd sooner +leave some things alone."</p> + +<p>"A prudent resolve, when one can carry it out! But d'you imagine your +partner controlled his curiosity?"</p> + +<p>Marston feared that Wyndham had not, and frowned, because he felt Peters +had meant his remark to be significant. The latter resumed: "Of course, +you can live tranquilly at the old Spanish ports; that is, if you are +sober and resist the dark-skinned señoritas' charms. Perhaps the worst +risk a rash stranger runs is being found in a dark <i>calle</i> with a +jealous half-breed's knife in his back. In order to get hurt, you must +court danger; in the swamps it haunts you. Of course, if you trade in +the regular markets, the profit is not large; but if I could get a good +post at a port with a casino and cafés, I think I'd be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"Haven't your employers a job that would suit to offer you?" Marston +asked carelessly.</p> + +<p>"They have not. They have been grumbling recently and hinting that I've +got slack. As a matter of fact, they have some grounds. My knowledge of +the business is pretty extensive, but since your partner came on the +scene the goods we want to get have gone to Wyndhams'. I'm now going to +Hamburg to account for this, but doubt if I can do so satisfactorily. My +explanation's rather romantic than plausible."</p> + +<p>"Then, you have an explanation?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>Peters smiled. "Yes. It looks as if the Bat had let his old friends go +and taken Wyndham up."</p> + +<p>"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "What has the Bat to do with trade? He's not +a merchant or a cultivator."</p> + +<p>"For all that, the fellow has power. The President rules the cities, the +<i>guardias rurales</i> the cleared land, but the Bat and the devil rule the +bush. I know half-civilized <i>Mestizos</i> who believe the Bat is the devil. +Anyhow, he's a useful friend."</p> + +<p>"He's not my friend," Marston rejoined. "However, if your employers are +not satisfied, I don't see how I can help."</p> + +<p>"I have a plan," said Peters. "I know the bush, the negroes, and their +habits, as few white men know them, and my knowledge is worth much to a +merchant house. Well, I'm not greedy and imagine you'd find it worth +while to give me a small partnership; or, if you'd sooner, appoint me +your agent at a port from which I could control the lagoon trade."</p> + +<p>Marston looked at him with some surprise. On the whole, he did not like +the fellow and he had no grounds for trusting him.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I can't agree," he replied. "We have a pretty good agent at +all the ports where we trade, and Wyndham sent a man he was satisfied +about to the lagoon. Our business is not large enough to justify our +taking a new partner."</p> + +<p>"The business is extending. Would you like to talk to Wyndham about it?"</p> + +<p>"He won't be back for some time, and I expect he'll agree that we don't +need help. I think you had better stick to your Hamburg friends."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>"Oh, well," said Peters philosophically, "it looks as if I must drop the +plan, but if you need me later, you know where I can be found. In the +meantime, we'll let it go. When I left, Ramon Larrinaga sent you his +compliments. He's getting an important man; had some part in the plot +that put the new president in power and has, no doubt, claimed his +reward."</p> + +<p>"You may give him our congratulations when you go back," Marston +replied, and soon afterwards Peters went off.</p> + +<p>Marston smoked a cigarette and reviewed his visitor's remarks. The +fellow had implied that Wyndham had, by some means, gained the Bat's +support, and this jarred. Perhaps it jarred worse because Marston had +tried to banish suspicions that chimed with the hint. Then he imagined +Peters' offer was rather made to Wyndham than to him. Marston meant to +urge his partner to refuse. He did not want to see Peters again, but +doubted. The fellow was cunning and obstinate. By-and-by Marston threw +away his cigarette and rang for his clerk. He would not bother about +Peters until he was forced. In fact, if Peters did not come back, he was +not sure he would tell Wyndham about it at all.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_IV" id="CHAPTER_II_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE LOST EXPLORERS</span></h2> + + +<p>The days were getting longer and although the evening was cold Marston +rejoiced that winter had gone. He had worked hard at the office until +Wyndham's return from his honeymoon, and now he was glad to get on the +water again. Putting down his oars, he let <i>Red Rose</i>'s dinghy drift, +because he doubted if the tide had risen enough to carry him across the +sands. A bitter wind blew up the estuary, where belts of shining water +wound among the shoals, and some distance astern <i>Red Rose</i> rode at her +moorings in a sheltered pool. For half a mile, sand and shallow water +ran between Marston and the beach.</p> + +<p>He had brought the yacht round from a neighboring river mouth where the +smoke of a busy port blackened her gear, and had since been occupied on +board. Now he was pleasantly tired, hungry, and braced by the cold. He +knew no amusement that gave him as much satisfaction as working on board +a yacht. In fact, if one went about the thing properly, it was really a +scientific job.</p> + +<p>The dinghy grounded, and letting her bump across the sand, he lighted +his pipe and reviewed his changed life since Wyndham won the Commodore's +cup. Things had begun to change then. For the most part, he had worked +hard; at first as <i>Columbine</i>'s mate and supercargo, afterwards as a +merchant's clerk. Al<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span>though he had invested a good sum, he was really a +clerk. Sometimes he stated his views and Wyndham listened politely; but +when one came to think about it, Harry did not tell him much. Then he +did not altogether understand transactions in which the house engaged.</p> + +<p>For all that, Marston was not hurt. He admitted that his judgment was +not worth much. He had not, like Harry, been trained for business. In +fact, it was something of a relief when Harry came home and he got rid +of his responsibility, although he thought he had, on the whole, managed +rather well. Recently, he had taken things easier and Wyndham had +encouraged him to do so. He suggested Marston's going off for a few days +now and then, and told him not to bother about the office while he +fitted out <i>Red Rose</i>. Harry was a good sort, and since he did not need +him, Marston was glad to occupy himself with the yacht.</p> + +<p>By-and-by the dinghy floated off the shoal and Marston saw the Welsh +hills on the other shore were getting dim and blue. He was cold and +drove the little boat briskly across the rippling water. Carrying her up +the beach, he went to an inn where he left his yachting clothes and then +set out across the heathy common for Mrs. Hilliard's house. Mabel gave +him tea by the fire and when it got dark outside they talked in the +flickering glow. Flora, Wyndham and Chisholm were coming to dinner, but +would not arrive yet, and Marston lounged contentedly in a big easy +chair.</p> + +<p>"I don't know if I'm tired or lazy," he remarked. "Anyhow, it's very +nice to sit by the fire with you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>"When you're lazy?" said Mabel, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Always," Marston declared. "However, you get a particular satisfaction +from loafing after you have had a good day."</p> + +<p>"On board the yacht? I'm not jealous, Bob, but you haven't been to the +office much."</p> + +<p>"That is so," Marston admitted. "I was rather keen about the business; +in fact, I'm keen yet. I like to know how things are going, even if I +can't help; but the boat's a temptation and Harry doesn't need me all +the time."</p> + +<p>"Do you know how things are going?"</p> + +<p>"For the most part," Marston replied, with a touch of embarrassment, +because he sometimes felt he did not know as much as he would like. "I +don't bother about small particulars."</p> + +<p>"Has Harry stated he did not need you? Or did you imagine this, and make +it an excuse for a holiday?"</p> + +<p>Marston pondered for a moment or two. He did not altogether approve +Mabel's line, perhaps because it excited doubts he had tried to banish.</p> + +<p>"Harry knows I like pottering about the boat," he said. "He has hinted +that I needn't stick to business quite so close now he's in control. +After all, there's hardly enough work for two partners."</p> + +<p>Mabel let this go. She knew Bob and thought he was rather trying to +justify Wyndham than to find an excuse for his own laziness. It looked +as if he suspected his partner was willing to get rid of him now and +then. Moreover, Bob was not lazy.</p> + +<p>"Harry's occupied pretty closely, is he not?" she said. "I have thought +he looks tired."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>"That is so," agreed Marston, who had recently noted a hint of strain +about his comrade. Wyndham was sometimes impatient; his gay carelessness +had gone. "After all, managing a business like ours is not an easy job," +he resumed. "Things, however, are going well and I imagine I made a +sound investment. In fact, we're getting rich."</p> + +<p>A car rolled up the drive and Mabel rang for lights. Flora, Wyndham, and +Chisholm came in and soon afterwards dinner was served. Mrs. Hilliard +did not come down and Mabel, sitting at the top of the table, studied +her guests. Flora looked charming; she had since her marriage got a +touch of dignity. Mabel thought she was happy, but now and then she gave +her husband a quick glance. Wyndham was thin, and although he talked and +laughed, when he was quiet the jaded look Mabel had remarked was plain. +She knew Bob's mind and his puzzled uneasiness about his partner that he +would not own. Chisholm, she thought, was altogether satisfied, and the +grounds for his satisfaction were obvious. Wyndhams' was prospering, and +his consent to his daughter's marriage was justified. Still, Chisholm +did not see very far.</p> + +<p>When they got up Mabel gave them coffee by the fire in the hall and told +the men to smoke. Chisholm, feeling for his tobacco, pulled a piece of +newspaper from his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Have you read the news to-day?" he asked Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"I have not," Wyndham replied. "One may be able to study newspapers at +the office of a navigation board, but my job is not a sinecure. Besides, +Bob deserted me, and I'd hardly time for lunch."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span>"Then, I've something that may interest you. I cut the thing out, in +case you missed it. It's headed, 'A tragic story of tropical +adventure.'"</p> + +<p>Wyndham looked up, rather sharply, and held out his hand for the +cutting, but Marston said to Chisholm, "Suppose you read it. Then we'll +all hear."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Chisholm, who polished his spectacles and began:</p> + +<p>"'Some time since, a small exploring expedition started inland from the +Salinas coast of the Caribbean.'" He stopped and asked: "Isn't that the +country you are exploiting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Wyndham, with some dryness. "It's not a healthy country for +white explorers, unless they're acclimatized. But go on."</p> + +<p>"'The party consisted of a commercial botanist, a student of tropical +diseases, a mining expert, and a trader stationed on the coast.'"</p> + +<p>"Peters!" said Wyndham, looking at Marston. "No doubt, he persuaded the +others; I expected the fellow would try to get on our track."</p> + +<p>"That's the name," said Chisholm and resumed:</p> + +<p>"'The party engaged a number of half-breed porters and set off, although +they had been warned the bush country was disturbed. The belt of swampy +forest was penetrated by the Spaniards four hundred years since, but it +is, for the most part, little known by white men, and its <i>Mestizo</i> and +negro inhabitants dislike strangers.'"</p> + +<p>"The newspaper man seems remarkably well informed," Wyndham observed. "I +expect he has a correspondent in the neighborhood."</p> + +<p>"'When some time had gone and no news of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> explorers reached the +coast, the government got alarmed,'" Chisholm went on. "'Señor +Larrinaga, the head official for the district, fitted out a rescue +expedition and searched the forest. They found one survivor, the trader +Peters, exhausted by suffering.'"</p> + +<p>"Peters said Ramon Larrinaga was getting an important man," Marston +interposed. "Sorry, sir! please don't stop."</p> + +<p>"'Peters' story was tragic. The porters had got uneasy soon after the +start, but their employers forced them to go on, until one night, when +the party stopped at an empty village, they vanished. In the morning, +Peters left his companions, with the object of overtaking the porters, +but lost their track, and returning in two or three days, found the +others dead. They were in a native hut and he saw no indication that +violence had been used. Since the party carried their own provisions, it +did not look as if they had been poisoned. Señor Larrinaga had some +trouble to reach the village. The half-breeds and negroes in the forest +belt are turbulent and rebellious and the rescue party was small. He, +however, pushed on and when he arrived found the hut had been burned and +nobody about. Two of the explorers had previously undertaken the +development of rubber and mining concessions for merchants of this city, +by whom their mysterious fate is much regretted.'"</p> + +<p>Chisholm put down the cutting and the others were silent for a few +moments. Wyndham looked disturbed, but lighted a cigarette, rather +deliberately.</p> + +<p>"Peters ought not to have taken those fellows into the bush. He knew the +risk," he said.</p> + +<p>"The others probably knew it, since the paper states<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> they had done such +work before," Marston replied.</p> + +<p>"I think not. Anyhow, they did not know all the risk. Peters did. It's +significant that he escaped."</p> + +<p>"You don't imply that he ought not to have escaped?" Chisholm said, with +some surprise.</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. Still the fellow's cunning and greedy. I expect he got +up the expedition, and he gambled with his companions' lives. If he had +won, I don't imagine they would have got much of the reward."</p> + +<p>Mabel studied Wyndham. It was plain that he did not like Peters and she +thought he had some grounds for resenting his attempt to explore the +country. Wyndham was a trader and Peters, no doubt, a rival, but she did +not think he was altogether moved by commercial jealousy. Somehow the +thing went deeper than this. His voice was level, but she saw his calm +was forced. Mabel remembered that he had taken some time to light his +cigarette.</p> + +<p>"The half-breeds seem to be a lot of savage brutes," Chisholm remarked. +"What stock do they spring from? The Carib?"</p> + +<p>"The African strain is strongest, and pure negroes are numerous. In +Central and part of South America, it's hard to fix the origin of the +population. About the cities, they've made some progress and a number of +their institutions are good. In the swamps I know best, they have gone +back to rules of life the slaves brought from Africa long since. If you +want to understand them, that's important."</p> + +<p>"Do you think the Bat had anything to do with the explorers getting +killed?" Marston asked.</p> + +<p>"We don't know they were killed, and the Bat's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> rather a bogey of +yours," Wyndham replied. "Anyhow, from one point of view, perhaps his +efforts to keep out Peters and his gang were justified. The country +belongs to the Bat and his friends; their rules are not ours, but they +suit the people who use them, and I expect they know what often happens +to a colored race when white men take control. Semi-civilization and +industrial servitude, forced on you for others' benefit, are a poor +exchange for liberty."</p> + +<p>"You mean their leaders know?" said Mabel. "They would lose their power +when the white men came?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham said nothing for a moment and Marston imagined he was getting +impatient. Then Flora gave him a puzzled glance and he smiled.</p> + +<p>"Did the fellow you thought the Bat look very powerful, Bob?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"In a way, he did not," said Marston. "He was a dirty, ragged old +impostor—and yet I don't know. Perhaps it was his grin, but you got a +hint that he was a bigger man than he looked. There was something about +him——"</p> + +<p>"Something Mephistophelian?" Wyndham suggested with a twinkle.</p> + +<p>"But Mephistopheles was rather a gentleman," Flora remarked.</p> + +<p>"That's it! You have given me the clew I was feeling for," said Marston. +"You felt the old fellow might have been a gentleman long since and had +degenerated. Now I come to think of it, his confounded grin was +ironical; as if he knew your point of view and laughed at it. In fact, I +imagine he laughed at himself; at his claim to be a magician and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> the +tricks he used. A cynical brute, perhaps, but he was not a fool."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you getting romantic, Bob?" Flora asked.</p> + +<p>Marston said nothing. He had seen Wyndham's frown and imagined he had +had enough. For a few moments Mabel studied both. She saw Bob wanted to +talk about something else, but she did not mean to help him yet. His +portrait of the old mulatto had given her ground for thought. For one +thing, it had disturbed Wyndham, and she wondered why. She was not +deceived when Wyndham laughed.</p> + +<p>"As a rule, Bob is not romantic, but he was ill before he left the +lagoon and fever excites one's imagination. We'll let it go. Did you +shift the ballast they stowed forward of <i>Red Rose</i>'s mast, Bob?"</p> + +<p>"I did. We moved half a ton of iron and she trims much better with it +aft," Marston replied.</p> + +<p>Then they talked about the yacht until Mabel got up and took them to the +drawing-room. She was curious, but in the meantime did not think her +curiosity would be satisfied. Bob knew no more than he had told and it +was plain that Wyndham meant to use reserve.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_V" id="CHAPTER_II_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /> +<span class="smalltext">WYNDHAM CHANGES HIS PLAN</span></h2> + + +<p>There was no wind, the sun was hot, and the reflection of <i>Red Rose</i>'s +mast and rigging trembled on the shining sea. She rode at anchor in a +quiet bay, near the woods that rolled down to the smooth white boulders. +Dark firs checkered the fresh green of the beeches and the bronzy yellow +of the new oak leaves. The tide flowed smoothly past the yacht, and +across the strait a lonely cloud threw a soft blue shadow on the scarred +face of a lofty crag. Now and then the echoes of a blasting shot rolled +among the hills. Flora sat in the yacht's cockpit. She wore a pale +yellow dress that harmonized with her brown eyes and hair. Wyndham lay +on the counter, smoking a cigarette, and when she thought he did not see +her Flora gave him a careful glance. After a few days at sea, Harry's +face was getting brown and he was losing his jaded look, but he was thin +and she did not like the way his mouth was set. He had been working hard +for some time, and now he had taken a holiday the strain he had borne +did not relax. Flora did not altogether understand this, because things +were going well with Wyndhams'.</p> + +<p>She looked up the strait. Not far off an old castle stood upon a lawn +where a long green point ran out, and the spot had romantic memories for +her. She had promised to marry Harry on the lawn, one summer night when +the yacht's lanterns twinkled in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> roadstead and colored fires burned +on the castle walls. Wyndham lifted his head, and smiled when he saw +where she was looking.</p> + +<p>"It is not very long since, scarcely twelve months, but much has +happened in the meantime," he said.</p> + +<p>"How did you know—?" Flora asked and blushed.</p> + +<p>"Your thoughts were in your eyes; gentle thoughts. It looks as if you +were not disillusioned yet!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not," said Flora, firmly. "For all that, I don't know if I like you +when you're cynical."</p> + +<p>"It's a relapse, or perhaps a reaction. Living up to your standard is a +bit of a strain now and then."</p> + +<p>"Would you sooner I lowered the standard?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Wyndham, with a twinkle. "Keep it as high as you can +for yourself, so long as you are willing to make some allowances for +me."</p> + +<p>"That's a man's point of view," Flora remarked. "However, on the whole, +you're very good. I really don't get many jars."</p> + +<p>She studied him and mused. Harry was all, or very nearly all, she had +thought, and she was happy. Sometimes, perhaps, she wished he would give +her a little more of his confidence, about the office for example. The +control of the extending business was not easy; she saw he had cares he +did not talk about. He was a handsome man and she approved the +fastidious neatness of his white yachting clothes, but he looked +fine-drawn. Flora rather liked this half-ascetic look; Harry had no +gross passions to draw him away from her, although she sometimes feared +she had a rival in his ambition. He was ambitious and did not tell her +much about his plans.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>She looked about. Near the point, a little varnished boat shone in the +strong light. Bob had taken Mabel for a row in the dinghy.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for them," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Sorry for whom?" said Wyndham, and turned his head. "Oh, yes; it's hard +for Bob! Mabel, no doubt, gets some satisfaction from feeling she's +doing what she ought. I, myself, don't know if she ought or not, but +this doesn't matter so long as Bob's persuaded. Well, I suppose she's +worth waiting for and Bob is patient."</p> + +<p>"You are not patient," Flora rejoined. "You refused to wait."</p> + +<p>Wyndham gave her a twinkling smile. "No; I hadn't Bob's advantages. I +seized my chance, and made a plunge. So, I think, did you!"</p> + +<p>"After all, I wasn't very rash. I knew you better than my friends; but +I'll own to feeling proud because they're all satisfied. You were not +very long persuading them."</p> + +<p>"It cost me something," said Wyndham quietly. "However, we'll let it go. +I mean to have a lazy day and brace up for our climbing trip in the +morning. I sent a message that we would need a car."</p> + +<p>Flora nodded and glanced at a peak that rose behind the hills across the +sparkling strait. She was a mountaineer and sometimes wondered whether +she liked best the high rocks or the sea. Then she turned and noted a +long plume of smoke that rolled across the woods.</p> + +<p>"The early boat from town," she said.</p> + +<p>A steamer swung round the point and headed for the yacht, piling the +oily water in a wave at her bows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> The thud of her paddles nearly +drowned the music of the band on board, and confused echoes rang among +the trees. A group of passengers forward sang lustily and a row leaned +against the rail.</p> + +<p>"She'll pass pretty close," said Wyndham. "I wonder whether anybody we +know is on board."</p> + +<p>Flora picked up the glasses and Wyndham, resting on his elbow, turned +his head. The steamer drove on, a feather of foam shooting up her stem, +and Wyndham languidly studied the faces of the passengers. Then, when +she was level with the yacht, he moved abruptly, for a short, thin man +with a yellow face sat on a bench, looking at <i>Red Rose</i>.</p> + +<p>"Do you see somebody? Shall I give you the glasses?" Flora asked.</p> + +<p>"No," said Wyndham, sharply. "Hold fast! Look out for her wash!"</p> + +<p>Flora seized the coaming and the white wave from the steamer's paddles +lifted the yacht. <i>Red Rose</i> plunged violently and when she steadied, +the passenger boat was slowing near the pier. Flora put down the glasses +and turned to Wyndham. She had seen the little man on the bench and +imagined Harry was studying him. The fellow looked like a foreigner and +she did not like his face. Yet it was strange his being on board the +steamer had annoyed Harry. She thought it had annoyed him, although the +need to warn her about the wash perhaps accounted for the sharpness of +his voice.</p> + +<p>"I saw all I wanted," Wyndham resumed, with a touch of grimness. "I +thought you might drop the glasses when the wave struck us. If I wasn't +lazy, I'd send a complaint to the office about their driving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> their +boats full speed across a yacht anchorage. Has the splash hurt your +dress?"</p> + +<p>Flora looked down and shook the sparkling drops from the thin material.</p> + +<p>"This stuff won't spoil. A dress that will spoil is no use for yachting; +I've been to sea before."</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards the others returned. They had promised to lunch with +Chisholm at the hotel where Flora and Mabel had a room, but by and by +Wyndham remarked:</p> + +<p>"I feel rather dull and think I won't go ashore. Perhaps you had better +stay, Bob, and we'll fit the new rigging screws. The others look as if +the hooks might draw in a hard breeze."</p> + +<p>"Stay if you like," said Flora. "You have come for a holiday. Are you +sure you feel equal to our climb in the morning?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham hesitated. "I'd hate to disappoint you, but I am lazy. I found +the scramble up the big gully hard enough the last time I went along the +ridge, and I hadn't been to Africa then. After close work in an office, +three thousand feet and some awkward rock climbing is a stiff pull."</p> + +<p>Flora looked at the others. Harry was tired and rather slack, and she +wanted to indulge him. It was something of a relief when Marston played +up.</p> + +<p>"We came for a cruise, not to climb hills," he said. "Let's stop and go +fishing in the dinghy."</p> + +<p>"There aren't many fish and digging bait's a bother," Wyndham replied. +"I've a better plan. The wind will turn east at sunset and there is a +moon. Suppose we run down the coast to Carmeltown and see the Irish +boats finish their cross-channel race?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>The others agreed and in the evening <i>Red Rose</i> left the anchorage. It +was getting dark when they hoisted sail, but Marston, who occupied with +the halyards, thought he heard a distant shout. Looking round, he saw a +dinghy near the point.</p> + +<p>"Is that somebody hailing us?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Wyndham. "There are other boats about. But be +careful; you've got the topsail yard foul of the lift."</p> + +<p>Marston pulled the yard clear, and dropping down the channel through the +sands, they stole out to sea. A light east wind blew behind them, the +water sparkled as the moon rose, and shadowy woods and dark hills opened +out and faded on their port side. The night was warm, the sea ran in +long undulations, wrinkled by the breeze. In the distance one heard surf +break upon the reefs, and now and then a steamer with throbbing engines +went by. Wyndham lounged at the tiller, Marston and Mabel sat under the +booby hatch and talked quietly, while Flora, in the cockpit sang a song. +<i>Red Rose</i>, lurching gently with all sail set, headed for the west.</p> + +<p>"Harry's plan is good," Flora remarked when she finished her song. +"There are two grand things, the sea and the mountains; but, on a night +like this, I like the sea best."</p> + +<p>"Then you ought to be happy and I hope you are," rejoined Mabel. "The +trouble about dividing your affection between two objects is, when you +get one you feel you want the other."</p> + +<p>"That is so now and then," Flora agreed. "When you can't have both, you +are forced to choose and choosing's generally hard."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>"You let Harry choose for you. Perhaps it's a good plan, but I don't +know if I'll use it much with Bob."</p> + +<p>Flora laughed and thought Mabel's remark was justified. It looked as if +Harry had meant to leave the strait, although he had said nothing about +this until the passenger boat arrived. Anyhow, it did not matter. She +was glad to indulge him and it was a splendid night for a sail. Flora +was happy and began to sing again.</p> + +<p>The wind freshened as they crossed a rock-fringed bay where a famous +emigrant ship went down. Sparkling ripples flecked the swell, which +presently began to roll in short angry waves. The rigging hummed, a +foaming wake ran astern, and a white ridge stood up about <i>Red Rose</i>'s +bows. After a time, Marston and the paid hand set a smaller jib and +hauled down the topsail, and when they had finished Bob stood on deck +looking about. The sea ahead was white and <i>Red Rose</i> rolled hard when +the rising combers picked her up. Astern, the dinghy sheered about and +lifted half her length out of the water when she felt the strain on the +rope. Once or twice she surged forward on a wave, as if she were going +to leap on board. Marston had seen enough and jumped into the cockpit.</p> + +<p>"It's freshening up," he said. "The tide will be running strong round +Carmel when we get there and the sea breaks awkwardly in the race. If +you're going on, we'll heave down a reef and pull the dinghy on deck."</p> + +<p>Wyndham looked at his watch. "I don't know if I'm going on or not. The +flood's running now and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> there are two nasty races before we reach +Carmel. Suppose we make for Porth Gwynedd? I don't see much use in +getting wet."</p> + +<p>"The Porth's an awkward harbor to enter in the dark," Marston remarked +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I know the way," said Wyndham. "Mrs. Evans will give the girls a room; +we have got her up late at night before. Ask them what they think?"</p> + +<p>Flora and Mabel agreed, Wyndham changed his course, and the dark hills +they were following got nearer. By and by Marston hauled down the +staysail and stood on the deck forward, studying the forbidding coast +Wyndham steered for.</p> + +<p>A narrow strip of gloom, piercing the hills, indicated a valley, and at +its end a dim red light blinked. One could see no entrance. Shadowy +rocks dropped to the water, and a line of foam marked the course of the +tide across a reef. A white belt of surf glimmered without a break at +the foot of the cliffs.</p> + +<p>Wyndham, however, did not hesitate and Flora glanced at him with quiet +confidence. The moonlight touched his face and she liked his calm. One +could trust Harry when there was a strain; she was proud of his pluck +and steady nerve. Besides, he looked strangely handsome and virile as he +controlled the plunging yacht.</p> + +<p>When the white turmoil on the reef was close ahead she saw a break in +the rocks. The gap was dark and very narrow; spouting foam played about +its mouth. Wyndham signed to the fisher lad at the mainsheet, blocks +rattled, and <i>Red Rose</i>, swerving, listed over until her lee deck was in +the foam. Showers of spray blew across her, she was sailing very fast, +and Flora<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> knew she would soon be broken on the rocks if Wyndham missed +the harbor mouth.</p> + +<p>They drove past the reef, the long boom lurched across, and <i>Red Rose</i> +rolled violently. Dark rocks towered above her mast and the sails +thrashed and filled in the conflicting gusts, but the water got smooth +and the harbor opened up. Presently Marston jumped to the foot of the +mast and the peak of the mainsail swung down.</p> + +<p>"Starboard!" he shouted. "Look out for the perch!"</p> + +<p>Flora looked under the sail and saw a tall post with iron stays running +from it into the water. She wondered whether the flapping canvas hid it +from Wyndham, because he was slow to move the helm.</p> + +<p>"Starboard it is," he answered after a moment or two, leaning hard on +the tiller as he pushed it across.</p> + +<p>There was a heavy shock, something cracked and broke, and a thick iron +bar ground against the yacht's side. She slowed but did not stop and +when she forged ahead again Marston leaped forward.</p> + +<p>"Bobstay's gone and bowsprit's broken at the cap!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>"Down sail! Ready with the anchor," said Wyndham quietly.</p> + +<p>Marston dropped the anchor under the bows, running chain rattled, and +<i>Red Rose</i> stopped. They pulled up the half-swamped dinghy and when they +had thrown out the water Marston took a rope to a pier. Wyndham went +forward and occupied himself with the wreck at the bows until Marston +returned.</p> + +<p>"We'll need a new bowsprit and she's drawn the stay-bolt on the stem," +he said. "I think that's all,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> but it will keep us here two or three +days. Perhaps you had better see if you can wake Mrs. Evans before we +land the girls."</p> + +<p>Marston pulled up the harbor and returning after a time said Mrs. Evans +was getting a room ready. Flora and Mabel got on board the dinghy and +when Marston rowed them to the steps Mabel remarked: "I suppose Harry +couldn't see the perch?"</p> + +<p>"He could hear me shout," said Marston. "I made noise enough. If he'd +shoved his helm over, instead of looking for the perch, we'd have gone +past. I don't quite understand it, because Harry's not often slow. +However, a new bowsprit doesn't cost much; the only trouble is, we'll +have to stay while somebody makes it."</p> + +<p>Flora said nothing, although she was somewhat puzzled. On the whole, she +imagined Harry had not looked for the perch; the sail was in his way. He +was slow to move the helm and she thought this strange. All the same, it +was not important, and she talked to Mabel about the Welsh landlady as +they went to the inn.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_VI" id="CHAPTER_II_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /> +<span class="smalltext">PETERS RENEWS HIS OFFER</span></h2> + + +<p>Red Rose remained in port for a week. Wyndham needed a stay and +fastenings for the new bowsprit, and although the Welsh ship-chandler +could supply him with galvanized iron articles he sent to Southampton +for copper. Marston thought this curious, but Harry was fastidious about +the boat and for use in salt water copper was better than iron. The +party, however, was not bored. Porth Gwynedd, with its small slate +houses standing between the clear, green water and the quarries that +scarred the face of a hill, was picturesque. The breeze was light and +warm, and sunshine sparkled on the sea. They went fishing, swam about a +sheltered cove, and climbed the rocks. Wyndham's mood was cheerful and +Flora was content. She thought Harry was recovering from the strain; a +rest was all he needed and she was glad she had persuaded him to make +the cruise.</p> + +<p>When the new bowsprit was fitted they set off again along the coast and +stopped at another rock-bound port. A summer hotel stood by a cove +outside the little town, and a day or two after their arrival Marston +and Wyndham lounged on the terrace by the water at the end of the lawn. +The spot was sheltered by a tall cliff, and a thick shrubbery ran +between the grass and terrace. Flora and Mabel occupied a bench in a +nook cut out of the thick foliage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> The sun was hot, and all was very +quiet but for the drowsy splash of water on the rocks and the +intermittent rustle of leaves.</p> + +<p>"I like this spot," said Flora. "I have enjoyed the cruise. There's +something about the sea that soothes one."</p> + +<p>"Do you need soothing?" Mabel asked.</p> + +<p>Flora smiled, a rather thoughtful smile. "Not in a way. I've good +grounds for being satisfied; but I had begun to get disturbed about +Harry. He works too hard. No doubt he's forced to bother about his +business, but he looked thin and was sometimes moody."</p> + +<p>"He has done too much," Mabel agreed. "Bob tells me things are going +remarkably well for Wyndhams'. All the same, I expect it has cost Harry +some effort."</p> + +<p>"Harry does not grudge the effort," said Flora. "I grudge it for him. It +was mainly for my sake he went abroad and overtaxed his strength in an +unhealthy climate in order to make Wyndhams' prosperous." She stopped +and looked up, knitting her brows. "Here is the little man I saw on +board the steamer! I wonder what he wants."</p> + +<p>Mabel studied the man who crossed the lawn. She remembered that she had +seen him at Flora's wedding. His face was yellow and wrinkled, and +although he wore light summer clothes made in the latest English fashion +there was something foreign about him. He went towards the shrubbery +with quick resolute steps.</p> + +<p>"It's Peters, somebody Bob and Harry met abroad," Mabel remarked. "No +doubt he's looking for them; they're on the terrace not far off."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>"It's strange, but I feel I'd sooner he hadn't come," said Flora with a +frown.</p> + +<p>The man vanished behind the shrubs and a few moments afterwards Wyndham, +lighting a cigarette on the terrace, dropped the match.</p> + +<p>"Peters!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" said Marston, who turned and gave the newcomer an unfriendly +glance. "We didn't expect you."</p> + +<p>Peters sat down on a bench. "All the same, I have followed you along the +coast for a week. Felt I needed a change after my adventures with the +exploring party, which I dare say you heard about. Business was slack, +and I had a dispute with my employers. I resolved to give up my post, +caught a Royal Mail boat, and here I am."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you followed us," said Marston, coldly.</p> + +<p>"Then I must explain. Some time since, I suggested your giving me a +partnership. The plan has some extra advantages now."</p> + +<p>"The advantages are not very obvious," Marston rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Let me state them," said Peters, coolly. "The back country behind the +lagoon is disturbed; there are indications that the negroes and +half-breeds mean to rebel and Ramon Larrinaga is resolved to put them +down. It's possible he may do so, but I doubt."</p> + +<p>"I don't know if this is much of an argument for our extending our +business in the neighborhood. But why do you doubt Don Ramon's ability +to keep order?"</p> + +<p>"It's an argument for your putting a man who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> knows the country in +control. If a rebellion breaks out, there will be opportunities for +business such as one seldom gets; that is, if the situation's cleverly +handled. But we'll let this go in the meantime. Larrinaga has a cunning +antagonist who is much stronger than he thinks."</p> + +<p>"You mean the Bat?"</p> + +<p>Peters nodded. "I expect you have heard about the black Napoleon who +founded a negro state in the Antilles? Well, it's not impossible the Bat +will make himself as powerful as the other."</p> + +<p>"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "Such things can't be done again; the times +have changed."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether Wyndham thinks it ridiculous. He's better informed +than you," Peters said meaningly.</p> + +<p>Marston turned to Wyndham, but he said nothing. His face was set and he +looked as if he tried to brace himself.</p> + +<p>"You had an example of the Bat's power not long since," Peters went on. +"My exploring companions were poisoned, but not before the tropical +diseases man had made some interesting discoveries. Although the +swamp-belt is unhealthy, malarial fever is not so common as some people +think. In fact, it does not account for all the fatal sickness."</p> + +<p>"Yet strangers die from fever and among the half-breeds the mortality is +large."</p> + +<p>"That is so," Peters agreed. "All the same, my notion is, it's better to +study Obeah than medicine, and, if you want to enjoy good health, +cultivate the friendship of the Bat. He knows how to get rid of people +he disapproves."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span>"The brute ought to be shot! However, I don't see what this has got to +do with our giving you a share in our business."</p> + +<p>"I think your partner sees," said Peters, meaningly, and Wyndham +advanced a few steps with his fist clenched. His eyes shone and the +veins on his forehead swelled; but when Marston thought he would seize +the other he stopped a yard or two off.</p> + +<p>"How much do you know?" he asked in a hoarse voice.</p> + +<p>"Nearly all, I think," Peters replied, and turned to Marston. "The Bat +is clever and knows how to use the natural products of the swamps. In +fact, I imagine some of his discoveries would surprise our doctors. He +cannot, however, make all he needs, and somebody has supplied him with +arms and cartridges, besides chemicals and drugs in use in civilized +countries. It's sometimes an advantage to cure your friends as well as +destroy your antagonists, and the power of an up-to-date Obeah man is +not altogether founded on magic."</p> + +<p>"Who has supplied him?" Marston asked, with strange and horrible +misgivings.</p> + +<p>Peters smiled. "You were very dull for some time, but I think you begin +to see. Well, I suppose you can comfort yourself with the reflection +that when you shared the profit you didn't know how it was earned."</p> + +<p>Marston turned and struggled for control when he saw Wyndham's face. The +sweat stood on the latter's forehead and he shrank from his comrade's +glance.</p> + +<p>"Is this true, Harry?" Marston asked. "Have we been backing that +devilish mulatto?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>"You know now," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "It looks as if you +had got a nasty knock. I'd hoped you would not find out."</p> + +<p>Marston tried to pull himself together. He must be calm, but calm was +hard. Peters gave him a mocking smile.</p> + +<p>"There's something yet. The Bat is not a mulatto."</p> + +<p>"Not a mulatto?" said Marston dully. "What is he then?"</p> + +<p>"A white man. If you're not satisfied, ask your partner. He knows him +best."</p> + +<p>"Who is the Bat, Harry?"</p> + +<p>"Rupert Wyndham," Wyndham answered and turned his head.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two Marston said nothing, and then his lethargy +vanished. Horror gave way to fury and he clenched his hand as he turned +to Peters.</p> + +<p>"You have shot your bolt and missed," he said. "You're a cunning brute, +but all the same a fool. Now get off, or I'll throw you over the wall."</p> + +<p>Peters hesitated. His surprise was plain, and Wyndham's tense face +softened to a grim smile. Peters had not reckoned on Bob. The latter +advanced upon him threateningly.</p> + +<p>"Did you think you could blackmail us?" he resumed with a hoarse laugh. +"That we'd take you for a partner in order to keep you silent while we +got rich? The thing's ridiculous! Now you begin to understand this, +aren't you going?"</p> + +<p>Peters said nothing and went. His mistake was obvious; he might have +forced Wyndham to accept his terms, but he had misjudged Marston. When +he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> had gone, Marston sat down, rather limply, and there was silence for +a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Wyndham at length.</p> + +<p>Marston looked up. "I have got a knock, but the thing's done and there's +no use in calling myself a careless fool. For all that, I ought to have +seen what was going on; I'm a partner in the house."</p> + +<p>"And if you had seen?" Wyndham asked.</p> + +<p>"I'd have stopped the business and brought you away."</p> + +<p>"It's possible. You're a resolute fellow, Bob. But what are you going to +do about it now?"</p> + +<p>"Put things straight; as far as money can put them straight," said +Marston, quietly. "The cost doesn't matter. It's lucky I am rich."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't mean to break the partnership and give me up?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not," said Marston in a surprised voice. "We are partners for +good and bad, and Mabel is Flora's friend. When we started for Africa, +she told me my job was to stand by you."</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed, a bitter laugh. "It looks as if I didn't cheat Mabel +when I cheated all the rest. But you had better let me go before your +staunchness costs you too much."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stick to you," Marston declared. "I undertook the job; +there's no more to be said." He paused and resumed quietly: "How did you +get into Rupert Wyndham's power?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham's grimness vanished. He looked embarrassed and moved. "You're a +very good sort, Bob. I don't know if I did get into his power; anyhow, +not at first. I rather think ambition carried me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> away. You have not +known poverty; I doubt if you'll understand."</p> + +<p>"I'll try," said Marston, and Wyndham went on:</p> + +<p>"The house was bankrupt when I got control, and I was in love with +Flora. Perhaps you think it was dishonorable to tell her so. Well, I +haven't your scruples and we Wyndhams like a risk. The worst was, I let +her run a risk she didn't know. We met the Bat at the lagoon and he +showed me how I could get rich. He knew me; I didn't know him at the +beginning. Can't you see the situation? I'd won the girl I loved, but I +must support my wife. I couldn't force her to bear hardship because she +loved me, and, for her sake, I must satisfy her friends. Well, I saw and +seized my chance, and almost before I knew I'd gone so far I could not +draw back."</p> + +<p>"Did you want to draw back?" Marston asked.</p> + +<p>Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "You're cleverer than people think, +Bob. Sometimes I was sorry I had begun, but I imagine I would not have +stopped if I could. I meant to get rich; to give Flora a high place, +and—though the statement looks ironical—to justify myself. Well, I +went on until bad luck sent Peters to pull me up."</p> + +<p>Marston pondered for a moment or two. "Now I understand why the witches +in <i>Macbeth</i> made me think about the Bat; they tempted him with lying +promises. But I'm not much of a philosopher and we have the Bat to +reckon on. Peters doesn't count."</p> + +<p>"Doesn't he count?" Wyndham asked.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Marston. "When he told me his secret, he lost the +power to bully you. The fellow's a fool; he thought me greedy."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>"But he can tell others, Larrinaga, for example."</p> + +<p>"That's not important," said Marston quietly. "We don't want to earn +more money by helping the Bat. We're going to put things straight, and +if Larrinaga's government has a just claim on us, we must pay."</p> + +<p>"After all, the Bat's my uncle," Wyndham remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Marston. "It complicates things. We must go out again and +get him away."</p> + +<p>"Get him away? The man is powerful. I doubt if the government can put +him down."</p> + +<p>"For all that we're going to try."</p> + +<p>"You're an obstinate fellow, Bob. We'll talk about it again. There is +somebody else Peters might tell."</p> + +<p>"Flora? He'll be too late. You must tell her now."</p> + +<p>For a moment or two Wyndham's mouth set firm and the sweat stood on his +forehead. Then he said quietly, "It will be a hard job, desperately +hard; all the same, I suppose it can't be put off. Rupert Wyndham and +the powers he stands for have cheated me, but I must pay."</p> + +<p>Marston made a sign of agreement. "When you have paid, you're free, and +can begin again."</p> + +<p>Then he turned and saw Flora in the narrow path between the bushes. Her +face was white, but her eyes were gentle when she looked at him. "Thank +you, Bob! We owe you much," she said.</p> + +<p>Marston pulled himself together and gave her a friendly smile. Then he +touched Wyndham's arm, as if to encourage him, and left them alone.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_VII" id="CHAPTER_II_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY</span></h2> + + +<p>When Marston had gone Flora sat down on the bench. She was pale and +trembled. Wyndham, looking very grim, leaned against the wall. They were +quiet for a moment or two, and then he asked:</p> + +<p>"How much did you hear?"</p> + +<p>"I heard enough," said Flora, with an effort for calm. "I don't +understand it all, but I must understand. I heard Bob's voice, sharp and +angry, and came to see if you were quarreling with the strange little +man. Then I stopped where the shrubs are thick. Perhaps I oughtn't——"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter," Wyndham replied. "Bob urged that you must be told +and I think I meant to tell you anyhow. When one is found out, it's +better to plead guilty. Well, what do you want to know?"</p> + +<p>Flora turned her head. His stern coldness hurt. She thought he feared +her judgment would be merciless. Harry did not know her yet.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said again.</p> + +<p>"I must know all. You helped the man they call the Bat? You sent him +goods he needed; drugs among other things, although you knew he would +use some to poison people and make the superstitious negroes think him a +magician?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Wyndham. "At least, I gave him drugs. I don't altogether +know how he used the stuff."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>"He poisoned the explorers who went into the bush."</p> + +<p>"It's possible," said Wyndham. "I think that's all."</p> + +<p>"Still you knew he was cunning and cruel. You knew he killed people who +wouldn't obey him and he used magic."</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about Voodoo and can't state if it's magic or tricks. +However, I imagine the Bat did use it against people who disputed his +rule."</p> + +<p>"He gave you valuable goods; you were getting rich," Flora resumed. Then +she paused and added in a gentler voice: "He gave you pearls; but you +sent me none, although Bob brought some for Mabel. You said they were +unlucky."</p> + +<p>"It looks as if I was a romantic sentimentalist. Anyhow, I didn't want +you to wear pearls I got from the Bat."</p> + +<p>"Yet you were willing to trade with him! You gave him your support!"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Wyndham grimly. "For a tempting price. Now my luck has +turned and I won't get the price. My reward has vanished when it was in +my hands. Nothing is left."</p> + +<p>Flora pondered. In a sense, she thought he exaggerated, because much was +left. All the same, she was glad he had been cheated and the reward for +his wrongdoing had gone. He might have wanted to keep it, and her +refusal to share it might have separated them. Still she would not think +about this yet. She must break down his stern calm and much depended on +the line she took.</p> + +<p>"You misjudged me and perhaps that accounted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> for your giving way," she +said. "You thought I hadn't pluck enough to marry you when you were +poor? My dear, I loved you and knew you were not rich!"</p> + +<p>"You hadn't known poverty. There was another thing; your father made +stipulations and of course he was justified. I was forced to satisfy him +and your friends. Would you have liked them to pity you for a romantic +fool whom a common adventurer had carried away?"</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Flora, "you didn't know my friends much better than you know +me! Mabel's my friend and she let her lover go away. I think it hurt Bob +when he found out what you had done; but has he turned from you?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham said nothing and she resumed: "However, all this is not +important now. You can't go on. What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"It looks as if Bob had made some plans for me. I don't know yet if I'll +consent. My plan is simpler and would save him trouble and risk. It +depends on you if I carry it out."</p> + +<p>Flora gave him a quick glance, for his manner was baffling. He looked +stern and his mouth was set.</p> + +<p>"How does it depend on me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I cheated you and your father and you have found me out. You know how +deep in the mud I've gone and it wouldn't be strange if you thought I +might go deeper. I expect you have lost all trust in me. Well, if the +shock's too great, you must give me up. I'll drop out, vanish like my +uncle, and trouble you no more."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>Flora laughed, a hoarse, emotional laugh that shook her and brought the +blood to her skin.</p> + +<p>"You thought I would give you up? You have been afraid of this since you +saw Peters at the church and you dropped the ring? Oh, but you are very +dull! I love you and it was for my sake you did wrong. Well, I am not +afraid to share the punishment. If I could save you, I'd bear it all. +The thing that hurts is, you doubted if I was brave enough."</p> + +<p>"I knew your pluck; you gave me proof when you married me. For all that, +I knew your hatred of shabbiness and wrong. I'm an unsuccessful +criminal."</p> + +<p>"All the same you are my husband," said Flora quietly.</p> + +<p>Wyndham looked hard at her and hesitated.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he said, "I cannot urge this claim. It would hurt less to +leave you than try to keep you if you shrank."</p> + +<p>"Then you doubt me yet?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'm ashamed and humbled. I don't know what I ought to do, or what I +ought to say."</p> + +<p>"There is not much to be said, but it is difficult. Come here, Harry, +and give me your hand. One hates to talk like a moralizing prig and it +does no good; but you have gone down hill for me and I want to help you +back."</p> + +<p>Wyndham came to the bench and she took his hand in hers. "I am your wife +and will not let you go," she went on. "Still you must give up the money +you have earned and put straight the harm you have done. It doesn't +matter if this makes us poor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> I can go without much you have given me. +I'd be glad to go without!"</p> + +<p>"Ah," he said with strong emotion, "I didn't know you, Flora! Although +you hate my offense, you mean to stick to me?"</p> + +<p>"My dear! I expect the temptation was very strong and at the beginning +you did not know all you did. It was rather horrible to help a renegade +outcast to plot against civilized rule and try to put in its place +superstitious cruelty. But that's done with. We must think how we can +make good."</p> + +<p>"I can't make good at my cost. You and Bob must pay, and I cheated Bob."</p> + +<p>"Bob will bear you no grudge and I want to help."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "You have given me a +chance I don't deserve to get straight again, and I'd be a meaner brute +than I am if I let it go." He got up and his face was very resolute. +"Now I'll look for Bob."</p> + +<p>He went off and Flora, although badly shaken, was satisfied. She had +saved her husband from the Bat and from himself. He had not protested +much; on the whole he had been reserved and cold, but she knew he was +moved and one could trust him when he looked like that. She began to +feel comforted and get back her calm. The soft splash of languid waves +on the rocks beyond the terrace was soothing. Except for this, all was +very quiet and the quietness steadied her.</p> + +<p>By-and-by she heard a step, and looking up, saw Peters had come back. He +smiled, but his smile was cruel and she shrank from him with a quick +half-conscious movement. Peters took off his hat.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Wyndham, I believe?" he said.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>"I am Mrs. Wyndham," Flora replied. "What do you want?"</p> + +<p>"A few minutes' talk. I imagine you will be interested."</p> + +<p>Flora hated him. He knew Harry's offense and meant to use his power; +perhaps to demand money and perhaps for revenge. He had power, but since +she and Bob knew Harry's guilt, not as much as he thought. She wanted to +make him feel the scorn and loathing he excited. All the same, she might +find out something useful if she led him on. He was an unscrupulous +antagonist and she meant to fight for her husband. She made a vague sign +of agreement and Peters sat down on some steps in the terrace wall.</p> + +<p>"Your father holds an important post and your friends are well-known +people," he began. "I expect you value their rather exclusive society."</p> + +<p>"What has this to do with you?" Flora asked.</p> + +<p>Peters made a deprecating gesture. "Wyndhams' has now some standing on +the exchange; the house's credit is pretty good, and people are +beginning to think your husband a clever business man. Wyndham is +clever, but for a man to build up a business he must be known for +something else. If he wants to command people's trust, he must keep +certain rules."</p> + +<p>"I suppose that is so," Flora agreed with forced carelessness.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Peters. "I'm afraid Wyndhams' new prosperity rests on +an unsafe foundation. A statement about their trade on the Caribbean +would shake it badly; in fact, I doubt if the house would stand the +shock. A merchant must enjoy his customers' confidence and confidence is +soon destroyed."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>"You imply you could destroy the confidence people have in Wyndhams'?"</p> + +<p>"It is possible. For all that, I hesitate— You see, you, and to some +extent Commodore Chisholm, would be involved in your husband's fall. But +I needn't labor this. You know how prosperous conventional people treat +friends who lose their place."</p> + +<p>Flora struggled for calm, but her eyes flashed and the blood came to her +skin.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, forgetting the part she meant to play, "you want a +bribe? Money to be silent? You could not rob my husband, so you came to +me! You think I am weaker and you can work on my fears?"</p> + +<p>"It looks as if he had told you something," Peters remarked coolly. "I +do not think he has told you all."</p> + +<p>There was a step on the path behind them and as Flora turned Marston +advanced. His face was red and very grim. Bob was generally calm, but he +was savage now.</p> + +<p>"Suppose you leave the thing to me? I saw the fellow coming here," he +said to Flora, and stopped in front of Peters. "You haven't gone yet? I +had some trouble to get rid of you before, and don't mean to be bothered +by you again. This is the last annoyance you will give us."</p> + +<p>Moving forward deliberately, he seized the other and swung him off his +feet. Peters was short and light, for fever had worn him thin; Marston +was big and powerful. He got a good hold where the other's clothes were +slack, and lifting him with a strong effort, went up the steps. Peters +kicked and struggled. Marston gasped and when his hat fell off Flora<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +laughed. She was moved by a reaction after the strain. When Marston +reached the top step he held Peters over the edge of the wall.</p> + +<p>"The tide's low," he said hoarsely, with obvious disappointment. "I was +going to throw you into the water."</p> + +<p>"If you drop me, somebody would find me on the rocks," Peters replied in +a breathless voice, and Flora tried to stop her wild laughter. Her +control was vanishing and the scene was ludicrous. Peters had looked +grotesque while he wriggled in Bob's grasp and now his coolness supplied +a last touch of grim humor.</p> + +<p>"I don't know if it's worth while to go to jail for you and perhaps it's +not," Marston gasped. He put Peters down and shook him savagely. "For a +blackmailer, you're a poor sort of fool. Can't you see yet how you've +muddled things? You can't tell Mrs. Wyndham more than she knows, and I +won't pay you to tell nobody else. You'll get no bribe for letting +Wyndhams' carry on the lagoon trade, because the trade has stopped for +good. It ought to be obvious that your hold on us has gone and now +you're going too."</p> + +<p>He paused and seizing Peter's shoulders turned him round and half pushed +and half threw him across the terrace. Peters fell into a clump of +shrubs, and getting up, stole away in silence. Then Marston turned to +Flora.</p> + +<p>"Sorry! I expect you don't approve, but I felt I must let myself go. +When people make me think about that confounded lagoon I get savage."</p> + +<p>"I do approve," said Flora, trying to be calm. "Perhaps it wasn't really +humorous, but I was forced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> to laugh. Did you meet Harry? He went to +look for you."</p> + +<p>"No," said Marston. "I want to see him, and after this little exploit +expect you'll be glad to get rid of me. However, I think you have got +rid of the other fellow."</p> + +<p>He found Wyndham writing a letter in the hotel smoking-room, and sitting +down opposite, waited until he looked up.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you told Flora all about it," Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>"I did. Your advice was good."</p> + +<p>"It was better than I thought. If you had waited, Peters would have +given her his story before she knew yours. I found him trying to begin +it a few minutes since."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Wyndham, "it looks as if I had run some risk! After all, I +don't know." He paused and resumed with emotion: "I admitted everything, +but she trusts me yet; I think she would have trusted me had I put my +confession off. It's strange, but I didn't know how staunch my wife is. +We'll let this go. What did you do with Peters?"</p> + +<p>Marston laughed. "I came near to throwing him over the wall. Held him +over the edge and wanted to let him drop; but the brute suggested that +somebody would find him on the rocks. I saw the force of this, because +the consequences would have been awkward now we have a big job on hand. +It's plain that you will need me."</p> + +<p>"I do need you. It's lucky I have such a partner. I've got to make +restitution and can't do so at my proper cost. Yet I've no claim; I +cheated you, as I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> cheated my wife. I'm an unsuccessful rogue and didn't +let my scruples bother me until I was found out."</p> + +<p>"That's sentimental extravagance," Marston said with some embarrassment. +"Anyhow, I am your partner and your responsibilities are mine. I don't +disown my debts."</p> + +<p>"The debts are heavy. I ran them up, without your knowing."</p> + +<p>"We can pay," said Marston, smiling. "It won't break us; I'm pretty rich +and mean to see you out. You can count on my help and my money; in fact, +on all I can give. Now that's done with. There's no more to be said."</p> + +<p>Wyndham gave him a quick, grateful glance. "Thanks! You're rash, but I +must try not to disappoint you. Friendship like yours is rare."</p> + +<p>When Marston went off, he sat for a time, looking straight in front. He +felt slack and strangely humbled, but was conscious of a new resolve. +Although he had gone far down hill, it was, perhaps, not too late to +stop. The climb back would be long and hard; he could never reach his +wife's and his friend's level. All the same, he meant to front the +ascent. They had borne much for him, he must, so far as he was able, try +to repay them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II_VIII" id="CHAPTER_II_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">UP HILL</span></h2> + + +<p>The smoking-room of the Marine Hotel at Carmeltown was crowded with +yachtsmen on the evening after the channel regatta. Marston and Wyndham +occupied a small table, the former trying to read a newspaper while the +latter looked about. The big room echoed with voices, a haze of tobacco +smoke drifted round the pillars, and now and then a peal of laughter +marked the end of an Irish yachtsman's tale. For all that, Wyndham's +face was rather grim, and Marston, looking up by-and-by, thought he was +brooding.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! Here's Elliot," he exclaimed. "S'pose he came across on the +mailboat. I heard her whistle not long since. Thought he was going to +stop and see if they could salve <i>Deva</i>. Anyhow, I'd like to hear about +the collision and it looks as if he was making for us."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Wyndham. "I imagine he wants to see me."</p> + +<p>Elliot crossed the floor, stopping now and then when somebody spoke to +him, and after a time reached Marston's table, where he sat down.</p> + +<p>"I've been trying to get to you for some minutes, but the Irishmen +wouldn't let me pass. The news of my bad luck soon got across," he +remarked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>"We didn't get much news," said Marston. "What about the boat?"</p> + +<p>"She's gone; cut down to the bilge and sunk in six fathoms. No chance of +salvage and the navigation board is going to blow her up."</p> + +<p>Marston said he was sorry and asked about the collision.</p> + +<p>"To begin with, I want a drink," said Elliot, who called a waiter and +then resumed: "It was dark and hazy, and we were creeping up to the +anchorage at Kingstown with all sail set. I was at the tiller, but the +wind was very light and she would hardly steer; the tide was carrying +her along. Jevons, looking out under the boom, said he saw a steamer's +lights, but just then I heard a North-Wall boat in the fog. You know the +noise they make when they're steaming fast, and the fog's pretty bad +when those boats slow up. I knew she wasn't far off when I saw her +lights; red, white, and green all together. That meant we had to do +something quick."</p> + +<p>Marston nodded. When a steamer's three lights are seen she is heading +direct for the observer.</p> + +<p>"Our flare wasn't handy, and the first match broke," Elliot resumed. +"Reckon I was awkward and not very cool. However, I got a light and it +was a relief when her whistle indicated that she was changing her +course; but while I was fumbling with the matches I forgot the other +boat. So did Jevons; he owned it afterwards. The North-Wall man went +past us, like a train, lights all over the passenger decks and a +four-foot wave rolling off the bows. She left us dazzled and rather +shaken, and then Jevons shouted that the other fellow was close ahead."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>Elliot stopped and drained his glass, and when he went on his voice was +hoarse. "We were crossing her bows, close-hauled on the starboard tack. +Our business, of course, was to carry on, but our lights were low and +not very bright, and as a rule, it's prudent to give a steamer room. +Anyhow, I shoved down the helm to bring her round, and told Jevons to +get out the big oar when I found her slow. The wind was light and she +was plunging on the North-Wall boat's wake. She came headto, and then a +roller hit her bows and she fell off. Jevons was trying to pull her +round, and for two or three moments I saw the steamer's forecastle. She +was a big, clumsy craft, going light, and looked as high as a house.</p> + +<p>"Then there was a crash and the mast went. I saw our side deck crumble +and the other's stem cut through to the cabin top. Mast and boom were +over the side, and when the round of her bow filled our cockpit I knew +it was time to go. By good luck, we had towed the dinghy and the steamer +held up <i>Deva</i> until we got on board. Then as we cut the painter the old +boat broke away, and the steamer went on, over the top of her. I imagine +she stopped, because we heard her whistle in the fog, but we'd had +enough of her and pulled for the beach. We landed at Kingstown, and I +think that's all."</p> + +<p>Marston sympathized and ordered drinks. Elliot drained his glass and +turned to Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "she was insured and I want another boat. What's your +price for <i>Red Rose</i>?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Red Rose</i> is not for sale," Marston interposed.</p> + +<p>"Then why did Forwood tell me you wanted an offer?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>Marston looked at Wyndham, who nodded. "It's all right, Bob; I'm going +to sell." Then he turned to Elliot and stated a sum.</p> + +<p>"A moderate price!" the other remarked. "I'll admit it's less than I +thought. Is she sound?"</p> + +<p>"She is not," Wyndham replied. "Port side's weak where the strain of the +rigging comes; she needs some new timbers. The covering board ought to +be relaid all round. Keel's shaky aft; the deadwood ought to be +lifted——"</p> + +<p>He indicated the repairs he thought necessary and Elliot looked at him +with surprise.</p> + +<p>"Since you want to sell, aren't you taking a rather unusual line?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled. "I allowed for defects when I fixed the price. The +carpenter's job will be expensive, but if it's properly done, the boat +will afterwards be nearly as good as new. I think you can rely on this."</p> + +<p>Marston gave his partner a puzzled glance and Elliot said, "After your +frankness, I'll buy her and take my chance."</p> + +<p>"I imagine it's a safe investment," Wyndham rejoined.</p> + +<p>For a few moments Elliot was quiet and then he fixed his eyes on Wyndham +and said in a thoughtful voice, "<i>Red Rose</i> is fast and you sailed her +cleverly. All the same, I never understood how you beat us when you won +the Commodore's cup."</p> + +<p>"I imagine I went the wrong side of the Knoll buoy," Wyndham answered +coolly. "Perhaps this gave us some advantage, because the tide runs +longer near the coast."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>Marston moved abruptly, but Wyndham went on: "I'm not certain; but if +you had filed a protest, I wouldn't have claimed the prize. Bob thought +he saw something in the haze. It might have been a gull, but it might +have been the buoy. Anyhow, we went on and the tide carried us along the +shore."</p> + +<p>The short silence that followed had a hint of strain. Wyndham knew +Elliot knew his winning the race had appealed to Flora's imagination. +Moreover, he thought Elliot had wanted to marry Flora and would have had +Chisholm's support. Marston saw they had got on awkward ground, and felt +embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"After all you did beat us and you were not sure it was the buoy," +Elliot said, in a quiet, meaning voice. "It's too late to file a protest +now. Besides, we were talking about the boat——"</p> + +<p>"I'll put her on the hard, if you'd like a proper survey before you +decide."</p> + +<p>"No," said Elliot. "I don't think it's needful. Your statement satisfied +me. I'll buy her."</p> + +<p>He went off and Wyndham gave Marston a smile. "You look surprised, Bob."</p> + +<p>"Let's have another drink," said Marston, who called a waiter and then +resumed awkwardly: "Elliot played up pretty well. I like the fellow; +he's a sportsman, but after all I think it was a gull we saw. Anyhow, we +won't bother about it again. Why have you sold <i>Red Rose</i>?"</p> + +<p>"It ought to be obvious. A yacht costs something and my keeping an +expensive toy wouldn't be justified just now."</p> + +<p>"Romantic exaggeration! You're frankly ridicu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>lous," said Marston with +some warmth. "Wyndhams' isn't going broke."</p> + +<p>Wyndham picked up the newspaper and indicated an advertisement. "I +really think I'm logical. Perhaps, this ought to persuade you I've made +up my mind."</p> + +<p>"Preposterous!" Marston exclaimed, throwing down the paper. "Your pretty +new house? Besides, it's Flora's house as well as yours!"</p> + +<p>"Flora agrees," said Wyndham quietly.</p> + +<p>Marston got up and his face was red. "Looks as if you don't mean to let +me help much. It's senseless exaggeration; things aren't as bad as you +make out. However, I've had enough. I'll get angry if I stay."</p> + +<p>"You ought to approve; I imagined you liked a thorough job," Wyndham +rejoined, and Marston frowned as he crossed the floor.</p> + +<p>Men spoke to him as he passed their tables, but he did not stop and +going to the drawing-room found Flora alone. When he came in she put +down her book and indicated an easy chair.</p> + +<p>"Stop and talk to me, Bob. I was beginning to feel neglected," she said. +"But what has happened? You look annoyed."</p> + +<p>"I am rather savage," Marston admitted. "Think I'll stand until I get +cool. Do you know Harry has sold <i>Red Rose</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I knew he wanted to sell her," Flora said quietly.</p> + +<p>"This is not all. D'you know about the ridiculous advertisement he's put +in the newspaper?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! I don't altogether see why you are surprised."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>Marston hesitated. He did not want to admit he had been surprised, and, +after studying Flora thought he could not urge that Wyndham's +reformation might be overdone.</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, you can see why I'm annoyed," he said. "I'm Harry's partner and +am going to marry your oldest friend."</p> + +<p>"I have not forgotten this and it helps me to be frank. You're generous, +Bob, but Harry has done wrong and must pay. He cannot make good at +another's cost."</p> + +<p>"The trouble is, <i>you</i> must pay. Your house, for example! You planned +it, you worked out all the colors, and thought where everything ought to +go. The house is beautiful, you're proud of it, and a woman's home means +much to her."</p> + +<p>Flora turned her head for a moment, but when she looked up again her +eyes shone.</p> + +<p>"I would sooner be proud of my husband. I am proud now and am going to +be prouder. Harry has pluck and meeting obstacles spurs him on. Our part +is to encourage him, while he struggles up hill. I know he'll reach the +top."</p> + +<p>"With a wife like you, he ought to go far," said Marston quietly. "I'm +sorry you won't let me help in the way I want, but s'pose I must agree. +Don't know if I'm romantic, but I've felt the world's a better place +since I knew you and Mabel."</p> + +<p>He went off and soon afterwards Chisholm came in, carrying a newspaper.</p> + +<p>"What does this mean?" he asked, indicating an advertisement. "Telford +showed me the paper. Wanted to know why you were selling the house. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +couldn't tell him. Is Harry getting rich so fast that it isn't big +enough?"</p> + +<p>Flora smiled. "The story's rather long, but I think you must be told. If +we stay here, somebody may come in. Let's go to the breakwater."</p> + +<p>She got her hat and crossing a street they reached a long granite wall +that ran out to sea. The languid swell beat against the massive, +dovetailed blocks, the moon was rising above the gray hills, and when +they had passed the landing place there was nobody about. By-and-by +Chisholm indicated a mooring post and, when Flora sat down, leaned +against the granite parapet.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he said, "I've been puzzled recently; had a notion something +was wrong. For all that, Wyndhams' was obviously prosperous, Harry's an +indulgent husband, and I wouldn't own I'd grounds for bothering, until I +saw this advertisement. Well, sometimes it's rash to meddle, but I'm +anxious. Tell me all you can."</p> + +<p>Flora told him and after she stopped he was quiet for a time. The +moonlight touched his face and she saw the lines get deeper. The old +Commodore was deeply moved, but she was glad he did not look stern.</p> + +<p>"I've got a knock and know how you were hurt. You bear it well," he +said. "To some extent, the fault is mine. When Harry wanted to marry you +I doubted but gave way. I ought to have been firm."</p> + +<p>"You are not accountable," Flora replied. "I wanted you to approve, but +I meant to marry Harry. I loved him, though I knew his drawbacks. But +this doesn't matter; I love him now."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>Chisholm looked at her with knitted brows and she saw he was suffering +for her sake.</p> + +<p>"You are very staunch, but I knew this. You say Harry means to make +reparation. Now he's found out, his repentance is strangely thorough."</p> + +<p>"You must not be bitter," said Flora quietly.</p> + +<p>"Very well. Let's be practical. Your husband's job will be hard and +long. He must carry his load, but part will fall on you. It's already +doing so."</p> + +<p>"That is just. Much of the fault was mine. I trusted Harry, and after +all I trust him better; but at the beginning this was not enough. I +wanted you and our friends to know him; to own he had talent and see my +pride in him was founded well. In a way, it was a mean ambition. I +wanted him to get rich. Not because I'm greedy——"</p> + +<p>"I think I understand," Chisholm remarked. "Perhaps we use the money +standard oftener than we ought. It's not high, but all the same, to earn +money demands some useful qualities." He paused and added with a sigh: +"I am poor and know."</p> + +<p>"You are a dear! Your honesty is worth much more money than you could +have earned. Then you're not hard, as some honest people are. You will +not be hard to Harry now he is trying to make amends?"</p> + +<p>"Far from it! What right have I to hurt a broken man?"</p> + +<p>Flora smiled. "Harry is bruised, but not broken. Then, you see, I made +his temptation stronger. When I ought to have held him back I +half-consciously urged him on. It was for my sake he broke rules we try +to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> keep, and I mustn't grumble if some of his punishment falls on me."</p> + +<p>"After all, you did not know what you did."</p> + +<p>"I ought to have known; I am his wife. But I think you understand, and +there's no more to be said."</p> + +<p>Chisholm got up. "A nasty knock, but we can bear it. You have pluck and +one can't be beaten when one is not afraid."</p> + +<p>They went back silently and near the end of the wall met Wyndham going +to the landing steps. Chisholm stopped and gave him his hand.</p> + +<p>"Flora has told me all," he said. "Your friends will stand by you."</p> + + + +<hr class="medium2" /> +<h2><a name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></a>PART III<br /> +<span class="smalltext">REPARATION</span></h2> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="chapterone"><a name="CHAPTER_III_I" id="CHAPTER_III_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br /> +<span class="smalltext">WYNDHAM PAYS DUTY</span></h2> + + +<p>Red reflections trembled on the sea, a fringe of languid surf broke +along the beach, and as the liner turned a point, a white town that rose +in terraces, glimmered like a pearl. A yellow flag ran up to the +masthead, the throb of engines slowed, and a noisy launch steamed out +from behind the mole. Marston, leaning on the rail, watched her +approach, and his look was thoughtful when he turned to Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"If Don Ramon got our telegram, he's probably on board," he said. "I +hope he is, because if he doesn't come it might imply he means to make +things difficult for us. He could if he liked."</p> + +<p>"Larrinaga will come," Wyndham replied. "From all accounts, he's a +pretty good officer, but I don't expect he neglects his interests while +he looks after the State's. I'm counting on this."</p> + +<p>"I s'pose one mustn't be fastidious, but I don't want to get involved in +fresh intrigue. The job we've undertaken is awkward enough."</p> + +<p>"Very awkward," Wyndham agreed, with some dryness. "In a way, it looks +too big for us. To begin with, we have got to pay duties we dodged, and +satisfy the Government we cheated. Then, without exciting the latter's +curiosity, we're going to stop a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> rebellion and carry off its leader. +There's the worst puzzle. The fellow's cunning and powerful. Moreover, +he's my uncle."</p> + +<p>He stopped, for the engines clanked noisily as the screw turned astern; +then the anchor splashed and the launch swung in to the gangway. The +port doctor came on board and after him a man in tight-fitting American +clothes. His wide black belt was spun from the finest silk and Marston +noted his hat. Indians had woven the delicate material under running +water; presidents and dictators wore hats like that, and none of the few +produced were sent to Europe. It was obvious that Señor Larrinaga was +now a man of importance.</p> + +<p>"You sent for me," he said, with a bow.</p> + +<p>"The steamer goes on in the morning," Wyndham replied. "We hesitated +about landing and calling, for fear we might trespass on your time. By +sending a telegram we left you free to refuse. If you are not much +occupied, I hope you'll dine on board."</p> + +<p>Larrinaga said he was willing and after a time they went to the saloon. +For the most part, the passengers had landed and only three or four +occupied the tables. By-and-by the others went out and Wyndham opened a +fresh bottle of Italian wine. A steward turned on the electric light and +soft reflections fell on colored glass and polished wood. Beads of damp +sparkled on the white-and-gold ceiling, although the skylights were open +and a throbbing fan made a cool draught about the table. Footsteps +echoed along the deck and when the steamer rolled the water gurgled +about her side, but it was quiet in the saloon. By-and-by Larrinaga put +down his glass.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>"One likes to meet one's friends, but I do not know if this alone is why +you sent for me," he said. "If it is not, you see your servant!"</p> + +<p>Wyndham bowed. "We value your friendship and particularly your honesty +and tact. There is a matter we thought you might arrange for us."</p> + +<p>"If it is possible; but you must be moderate. One is watched and +criticized as one rises in rank, and it is difficult to allow one's +friends exclusive privileges. To grant too many robs the Government."</p> + +<p>"We want to make the Government richer," Wyndham replied. "In fact, we +propose to give you a sum that ought to have been paid, in smaller +amounts, before. You will, no doubt, be able to hand it to the proper +officer, without our being bothered by awkward formalities."</p> + +<p>Larrinaga looked at him with puzzled surprise. "In this country one pays +when one is forced, and the Government is generally paid last of all. +One seldom gives money for which one is not asked."</p> + +<p>"We do not mean to rob your Government and my partner is rich enough to +be honest," said Wyndham, smiling. "You have no customs officer at the +lagoon, and we found on studying our accounts that some duties had not +been paid."</p> + +<p>"Proper copies of your cargo manifests ought to have been sent the +officer at the port where your vessel's clearance papers were stamped."</p> + +<p>"I think the manifests were sent, but now and then we got cargo at the +last moment as we were going to sea. Besides, the officer was a friend +of ours——"</p> + +<p>Larrinaga filled his glass, and while he pondered Wyndham lighted a +cigarette. The matter needed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> careful handling. It was plain that +Larrinaga's surprise had gone and he was cautious.</p> + +<p>"Then you propose to give me the money you ought to have paid?" the +latter presently remarked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Wyndham. "We are traders and must get on with our business, +while the officer we knew has given up his post. If we write to his +successor, we must comply with numerous formalities, and a stranger +would insist on knowing why we did not pay at the proper time. Well, if +you take the money, I expect you can straighten things out."</p> + +<p>Larrinaga looked hard at him, and Wyndham smiled. He imagined the fellow +was not honester than other government officials he had met on the +Caribbean. Larrinaga knew it was in his power to keep back as much of +the sum as he liked for his private use and would, no doubt, do so. In +fact, the fellow would imagine he was offered a bribe. Since one does +not give bribes for nothing, Wyndham must hint that he had an object, +and the hint must be plausible.</p> + +<p>"Then you expect no particular privileges?" Larrinaga remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," said Wyndham. "All we want is to carry on our business without +the small officials bothering us. We are not smugglers, but we would not +like the vessel stopped if a manifest now and then is not properly made +up. One must go in and out when the tide serves, and sometimes we do not +know what goods we have on board until we check the tallies when we get +to sea. If we find we have cheated the customs, you can trust us to put +things straight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> Only, we would sooner deal with somebody important; +yourself, for example."</p> + +<p>Larrinaga's eyes twinkled. "Very well. I think I can promise you will +not be bothered much." He paused, and resumed in a thoughtful voice: "I +expect you know your trading at the lagoon just now may lead to +trouble?"</p> + +<p>"All trade is troublesome, particularly when it is carried on in the +mangrove swamps," Marston interposed. "The lagoon is not much worse than +other spots. Anyhow, the profits are large and we must earn some money."</p> + +<p>"But Señor Wyndham stated that you are rich."</p> + +<p>"Rich people are sometimes greedy," Marston rejoined with a touch of +awkwardness. "I did not begin business with the object of losing my +capital."</p> + +<p>Wyndham thought he would leave Bob alone. Larrinaga would not suspect +him of plotting and his rather obvious embarrassment was an advantage. +Bob was the man one would expect to be embarrassed when engaged in +trying to bribe a government officer to sanction his smuggling. For all +that, Wyndham gave Larrinaga a keen glance. The latter leaned back +carelessly and rolled a cigarette. His movements were firm and quick.</p> + +<p>Don Ramon was clever and knew much about the bush. It was possible he +knew Wyndham had supplied the Bat with goods and he might mean to let +him do so for a time while he took his bribes, hoping to cheat both by +giving them a feeling of false security. Wyndham, however, did not think +Don Ramon knew the Bat was his relation; Peters knew, but he was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +the man to share a secret he had thought worth much. Although one must +not altogether take this for granted, Wyndham could not see another +plan.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Larrinaga when he had made his cigarette. "I will take +your money and see you are not bothered." Then he looked hard at +Wyndham. "I will give you a hint: wait until your cargo comes down and +do not go far from the beach. The bush is dangerous for strangers just +now."</p> + +<p>"We heard something about this," Marston replied. "I don't like the +<i>Mestizos</i>, and if they're plotting trouble, hope you'll put them down."</p> + +<p>"My partner has a horror of the swamps," Marston remarked with a smile. +"If he was not keen to earn some money, he would not enter the lagoon. +He has not joined me long and wants his friends to think he has a talent +for business."</p> + +<p>Larrinaga shrugged and got up. "The English and Americans are hard to +understand. If I were rich, I would be satisfied to lounge about the +plaza and now and then gamble at the casino with my friends. I would not +gamble with the <i>Mestizos</i> in the swamps. The chances are too much on +the side of the banker there. Well, I wish you good luck until we meet +again."</p> + +<p>The others went with him to the gangway and when the launch steamed off +Marston sat down and looked about. It had got dark but a half moon drew +a sparkling track across the calm sea. Anchor lights swung languidly by +the shore, and in the background the white town shone with a pale +reflection against the dusky hills. Music came off across the water with +the rumble of the surf, and the smooth swell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> splashed softly against +the vessel's side. Presently Marston turned and looked to the east.</p> + +<p>"One feels an English steamer's a bit of England. She takes civilization +and decency where she goes; but it will be different to-morrow when we +board <i>Columbine</i>. I wish our job was finished and we were going the +other way. Anyhow, it must be finished, and I don't know if I liked the +line you took. Don Ramon won't hand over all the money."</p> + +<p>"It's possible," Wyndham agreed. "Still I think you urged that we must +begin by paying the duties we had dodged."</p> + +<p>"I wanted them paid to the Government, not to a corrupt official who +thinks he's got another bribe. The duties belong to the country."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well. I don't know a channel by which the country would get its +dues. All are leaky; in fact, they are meant to leak. It's significant +that official salaries are small. However, I don't expect Don Ramon is +dishonester than the rest. Some of the money will go where it ought."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's not important," Marston said thoughtfully. "All the same, +you rather let the fellow think we wanted to smuggle."</p> + +<p>"Smuggling's profitable. It was prudent to hint we had an object for +haunting the lagoon. On the whole, I imagine a frank statement that we +were trying to be honest would not have satisfied Don Ramon; one must +make allowances for the other fellow's point of view. I hope he is +satisfied, but I doubt."</p> + +<p>"He is not a fool," Marston remarked. "I expect he reckons we mean to +supply the Bat with things he needs to fight the Government. If he's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +not altogether corrupt, why does he let us go on?"</p> + +<p>"It's not very plain. Anyhow, I imagine he won't let us go on very long. +In fact, speed's important. We must finish the job before we are +stopped."</p> + +<p>"The rebellion must be stopped," Marston agreed. "In a way, I don't care +who rules the country; I expect nobody would rule it well. All the same, +I'm not going to see white traders murdered and the swamp-belt given up +to a cruel brute who would rule it on the African plan."</p> + +<p>"The Bat can't start his rebellion without supplies, which we don't mean +to give him," Wyndham said dryly. "Things would be easier if he were not +my uncle."</p> + +<p>Marston hesitated. "This bothers me most. D'you think Larrinaga knows?"</p> + +<p>"I think not. Peters knows, however, and when he finds out where we've +gone I expect we'll soon have him on our track. This means we must +reckon on three antagonists."</p> + +<p>"Three?" said Marston with a puzzled look.</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. "I expect we'll find Rupert Wyndham the worst. However, +I see one advantage; none of the three knows our plans and all theirs +clash. We are not up against a combine."</p> + +<p>"We haven't a plan," Marston objected.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "Since that is so we must trust our luck."</p> + +<p>He went off and Marston smoked a cigarette and mused. He had wanted to +be open and honest, but since they could not use force, he admitted +reluctantly that they must intrigue. The job did not look as simple as +he had thought in England; it was getting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> obvious that Rupert Wyndham +would be their worst antagonist. The fellow was, so to speak, no longer +a white man; he was a savage with a lust for cruelty and power, but he +had a white man's intelligence. To imagine he could be persuaded to give +up his ambitious plans was ridiculous; he had no moral sense to which +one could appeal. All the same, it was unthinkable that they should let +him be captured by Larrinaga and shot.</p> + +<p>Marston could see no light and presently threw away his cigarette and +got up. The job was awkward, but he must not own he was beaten before he +had begun. He would go on and trust his luck. In the meantime, he had +promised to play cards with some passengers and he went to the +smoking-room. They played until the electric light went out, when +Marston found he had lost five pounds. It did not look as if his luck +was very good.</p> + +<p>In the morning, the steamer sailed and when she stopped again as dark +fell a boat was hoisted out. High land loomed, vague and blue, against +the sunset, drifting mist hid the beach, and not far off two masts and a +dark hull cut against the hazy background. As he went to the gangway +Marston looked back with a curious feeling of regret. The steamer stood +for much that he liked and knew, and he had enjoyed the society of her +officers. Their temperament was sane and practical. They did not seek +strange adventures; theirs was a healthful struggle against the obvious +dangers of the sea.</p> + +<p>In front, all was different, and Marston could not see where his path +led. Mystery, and perhaps horror, deepened the gloom through which he +must grope his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> way, and his face was grim as he went down the ladder. +He did not talk while the sailors rowed him to <i>Columbine</i>, and leaving +Wyndham to give the crew some orders he sat down on the gratings by the +wheel.</p> + +<p>The dew was falling and the deck was damp. Moisture dripped from the +masts and ropes, and it was very hot. The anchor light tossed against +the portentous gloom of the land. The yacht looked old and dirty, though +Marston knew her strength and speed; the half-naked crew made no noise +as they stole about. Their dark skin was scarcely distinguishable and +Marston thought they rather looked like ghosts than men.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the steamer's boat was pulling back. Marston saw her +move across the dim reflections on the water, but the splash of oars got +faint and by and by she vanished in the dark. Then a whistle shrieked +and lights that twinkled in the distance began to move. The throb of +engines traveled far, but it presently died away and all was quiet. +Marston was launched on his adventure, and since he was practical, he +went below and studied the chart.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_II" id="CHAPTER_III_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br /> +<span class="smalltext">MARSTON GETS A WARNING</span></h2> + + +<p>It was dark and the mud village was strangely quiet. Thin mist drifted +about the house Don Felix had occupied, and Wyndhams' new agent leaned +forward slackly with his arm on the table. He was a young French creole, +but his face was pinched and careworn.</p> + +<p>Marston, sitting in a corner, studied the man. When he last saw Lucien +Moreau he was vigorous and marked by a careless confidence. Now his +glance was furtive and sometimes he fixed it on the window. There was no +glass and the shutters had been left open because the night was hot. +Marston remembered Don Felix's disconcerting habit of looking at the +window when it was dark. The miasma from the swamps had obviously +undermined Moreau's health; but Marston doubted if this accounted for +all.</p> + +<p>Moreau had been talking for two or three minutes when Wyndham stopped +him.</p> + +<p>"I understand you want to give up your post?" he said.</p> + +<p>"That is so," the other agreed. "For one thing, you do not need an agent +when you are closing down your business." He paused and gave Wyndham a +sullen look. "Besides, I have had enough."</p> + +<p>"Your pay is good."</p> + +<p>"Good pay is of no use if one dies before one can spend it," Moreau +rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Wyndham. "If you have had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> enough, we must try to let +you go. However, since your engagement runs for some time, you must stay +a month."</p> + +<p>Moreau agreed unwillingly and Wyndham asked: "Have you sent for the +fellow who gave us our last load?"</p> + +<p>"He is coming to-night. You will stay until he goes?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Wyndham, smiling. "I don't want to put too much strain +on you. It looks as if you were afraid of your customers."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid. One is always afraid here," Moreau admitted. "It has been +worse since you did not send the goods you promised."</p> + +<p>"We will send no more," said Marston firmly and they talked about +something else until they heard steps outside and a man came in.</p> + +<p>He was a big, dark-skinned fellow and carried a thick blanket folded +across his shoulder. His feet and the most part of his thin legs were +bare, his chest and arms were powerful, and he looked truculent. He +glanced at Marston curiously and then turned to Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"Have you brought payment for my goods?" he asked in uncouth Castilian.</p> + +<p>"We have," said Wyndham. "Señor Moreau has a list of the cargo and we +will begin to unload in the morning. Tell him what we have brought, Don +Lucien."</p> + +<p>Moreau did so and the other frowned. "These things are of no use to me."</p> + +<p>"They are standard trade goods that count as money," Wyndham replied.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>"You know what we wanted," said the other and added, meaningly:</p> + +<p>"In this country, it is not prudent for a stranger to disown his debts."</p> + +<p>"We are not cheats," Marston rejoined. "The stuff is all good, but we +are willing to pay in money."</p> + +<p>Wyndham stopped him and turned to the mulatto. "If you are not +satisfied, send your master. We do not dispute with servants."</p> + +<p>Moreau looked alarmed, as if he thought the reply would provoke the +other, but Wyndham gave him a peremptory glance, and he said a few words +in Castilian. The mulatto smiled, a rather cruel, knowing smile.</p> + +<p>"One needs courage to dispute with the Bat. It is not often people in +his debt want to see him."</p> + +<p>"All the same, we want to see him."</p> + +<p>"I doubt if he will come. The custom is to send a present and ask leave +to visit the Bat; but I will take your message."</p> + +<p>"And what about the goods?" Wyndham asked.</p> + +<p>"I can do nothing until I get an order."</p> + +<p>"Then we'll send them up the creek and put them in the store. You can +let them remain or take them, as you like. We have paid our debt."</p> + +<p>"I doubt," said the other grimly and with an ironical salutation went +off.</p> + +<p>Marston felt relieved when he had gone, and soon afterwards he and +Wyndham walked through the silent village to the creek. There were no +lights, the quietness and gloom were disturbing and Marston noted that +the negroes had not left the boat. He thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> they were glad when +Wyndham told them to shove off.</p> + +<p>"We have made our first move. I expect you don't see the next," he said.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," Wyndham agreed. "It depends on our antagonist. I think he'll +understand our challenge, but it's going to be an intricate game."</p> + +<p>Marston lighted his pipe and tried to think about something else. He +hated intrigue and liked to see his path. It was a relief when +<i>Columbine</i>'s lights began to twinkle in the mist, and he went to the +cabin when they got on board. The little room was very hot and no air +seemed to pass the gauze beneath the skylight, but the glow of the brass +lamp was comforting. He owned that he had begun to fear the dark.</p> + +<p>Next day they unloaded cargo and when they stopped in the evening +Marston took his gun and went off in the dinghy. The tide was near its +lowest ebb, the uncovered mud banks gave off a sickly smell, and for a +time Marston pulled languidly down the channel. Then he saw a strip of +firmer bank, where a little path came out. A creek flowed through the +wet forest not far off, and he thought he might find his way across; the +ducks fed at twilight in the pools in the swamps. Pulling up the dinghy, +he looked at his watch. The tide had not turned, there was a moon, and +it would not be very dark. One got cramped on board the yacht and he +wanted exercise.</p> + +<p>The path was faint and the ground wet, but it bore his foot. Here and +there a huge cottonwood towered above the jungle, which was choked by +fallen branches and fresh growth that sprang from the tangled ruin of +the old. Knotted creepers strangled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> slender trees and pulled each other +down to the corruption that covered the boggy soil. Green things rotted +as they grew; parasitic plants drained the sap from drooping boughs. One +sensed the pitiless savageness of the struggle for life, in which the +beaten were devoured by the survivors before they were dead.</p> + +<p>Dark water that smelt horribly oozed through the jungle, the mosquitoes +had come out, and Marston pulled down the veil fastened to his double +felt hat. The forest daunted him, there was something about it that one +felt in a nightmare, but he was tired of loafing, and pushed on. If he +could reach the creek, he might get a shot. By and by, however, the path +bent back towards the lagoon, and he stopped at the edge of a channel +that crossed his path. It was not wide, but looked deep and the banks +were very soft. The creek he meant to reach was farther on.</p> + +<p>Marston considered. The channel marked the edge of the forest, which it +followed for some distance and then, turning, ran obliquely to the +lagoon. There was a muddy flat on the other side where he thought ducks +might feed, and he did not want to turn back. All the same, he did not +like the bridge that spanned the channel. Somebody had thrown a small +trunk across and stayed it, as a suspension-bridge is stayed, by +creepers partly pulled down from neighboring trees. The log looked +rotten and the rounded top was wet with slime. The water obviously +covered it when the tide was full. Marston, however, was sure footed and +steadying himself by the bent creepers, went cautiously across.</p> + +<p>When he reached the flat the sand and mud were soft and his step got +labored, but the light was going,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> he heard ducks, and thought he might +get near them in the gloom. They flew off, and he followed some curlews +that led him on for a time and then vanished with a mournful cry. +Marston stopped and looked about. He had gone far enough, the tide had +turned, and it was getting dark. Dark came quickly at the lagoon.</p> + +<p>Across the little channel, mangroves rose from sloppy mud. Their roots +were five or six feet high, and mudfish splashed in the holes beneath. +Crabs crawled about the roots, for he heard their claws scratch on the +smooth bark. He knew the noise; one heard it on board the schooner when +the tide was low, and Marston hated the hideous mangrove-crabs that +swarmed about the lagoon. They were savage and not afraid. If one sat on +the sand, they crawled over one's body and their bite was sharp. A +curlew's wild cry pierced the gloom and then all was quiet.</p> + +<p>Marston frowned. Now the light was going, the forest looked sinister. +Perhaps he was imaginative, but his half-conscious shrinking had some +grounds. In the tropics the woods were hostile and sheltered man's +enemies, of which the insect tribes were perhaps the worst. They +attacked in hosts, with poisoned jaws. Then a pale glimmer caught +Marston's wandering glance. The tide was creeping across the mud.</p> + +<p>He went back and stopped at the bridge. Dark had fallen, but the moon +was above the jungle and its light touched the channel. The log ran +across like a thin black bar, a few feet above the slime. It looked +frailer than when he had come. He braced himself, and balancing +carefully, went a yard or two along the trunk. Then he heard a crack and +seized the creeper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> as the log dropped under his feet. He held fast, +although the strain on his arm was sharp. There was a splash, the +creeper broke, and swinging back with one end, he dropped in the mud. It +rose to his knee and for a minute or two he splashed and struggled +furiously. Somehow he got out and floundered back to the bank he had +left. He was breathless and rather surprised to find he had not dropped +the gun, but the arm by which he had hung was horribly sore.</p> + +<p>Then it dawned on him that he was on the wrong side of the channel and +could not get across. When he fell into the mud he was not far from the +bank, but he had gone deep and it was unthinkable that he should venture +farther out. The half-liquid mire would suck him down. Still the tide +was rising and he could not stop on the flat. After a few moments, +another thing struck him; when he crossed, the bridge, although narrow +and slippery, was firm, but now it had given way as soon as it bore his +weight. The log had slipped down, or broken, suddenly. He wondered +whether it had been meant to break. A few strokes with the cutlass the +half-breeds carried would be enough, and he could not have struggled out +had he dropped where the mud was deep.</p> + +<p>Marston clenched his fist and raged with helpless fury. He was persuaded +somebody, with devilish cunning, had set the trap for him. When the tide +rose the dinghy would drift up the lagoon and in the morning the yacht's +crew would find her stuck among the mangrove roots. It would look as if +he had landed on a mud bank and had stopped too long. Then, with an +effort, Marston pulled himself together. He must search for a place +where the bottom was not so soft.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>He ran across the flat, heading for the lagoon and hoping he might find +a belt of firm sand that would enable him to wade across, but there was +none, and by and by he came to the main channel. It was wider and he saw +clumps of weed and flakes of foam drift past. The tide was rising and +would presently cover the flat. He went back as near as he could get to +the jungle, and sitting down with the gun across his knees, took off his +shoes. He had sometimes gone wild-fowling on the English coast and knew +one can pull one's naked foot out of mud where one's boot would stick. +The gun might be an embarrassment, but he meant to keep it to the last, +because the fellow who had cut the bridge might be lurking about.</p> + +<p>Treading very cautiously, Marston tried the bank again, but began to +sink and had some trouble to regain the flat. It was obvious that he +could not cross, and he doubted if he would be much better off if he +reached the mangroves some distance from the path. The tide flowed back +among them, their trunks were slender, and they were haunted by +poisonous insects and the horrible crabs. If the crabs attacked him when +the tide rose and he was forced to cling to the trees, he could not beat +them off. All the same, he could not swim to the schooner.</p> + +<p>For a time he wandered up and down the flat. Although he saw no way of +escape, he could not keep still. In the end, he must swim, but he meant +to wait until the tide drove him off the flat. There was not much use in +swimming when one could not find a spot to land. The rising water +presently forced him back to the small channel, where he stopped. The +moon had got bright and although, for the most part, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> mangroves on +the other side rose like a dark wall, the silver beams touched their +branches here and there. Marston searched them keenly, because he had a +strange feeling that somebody was about. Perhaps the fellow who had cut +the bridge had stopped to watch him drown.</p> + +<p>He thought he heard a soft rustle, leaves moved, and throwing the gun to +his shoulder, he pulled the trigger. The barrel jerked, the sharp report +rolled across the woods, and leaves and twigs came down; but that was +all, and Marston, swinging the gun, pulled the other trigger. Then as +the echoes died away he thought he heard a distant shout and a regular +throbbing noise. He paused as he pushed in fresh cartridges, and +listened hard. The noise was like the splash of oars and got louder. It +was the splash of oars, and a shout came across the water again. Marston +fired another shot and then waited, trembling with the reaction. Wyndham +was coming for him on board the gig and the crew were pulling hard. They +would reach him before the tide covered the flat.</p> + +<p>When the sand was all but covered, the boat grounded close by and +Marston got on board. Wyndham gave him a nod and Marston noted that he +was hot and breathless. A heavy oar he had thrown down lay in the +sculling notch.</p> + +<p>"The boys went out to make fast a warp and saw the dinghy drifting up," +Wyndham remarked. "We reckoned we had better start."</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Marston, who imagined his comrade did not want to talk +just then. "Have you got a cigarette?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>They shoved off and when they reached <i>Columbine</i> went to the cabin. +Marston mixed a cocktail.</p> + +<p>"There's enough for two," he said. "I expect you sculled pretty hard."</p> + +<p>"I did," Wyndham admitted. "The boys shoved her along handsomely; looks +as if they liked you, but the tide was rising fast. Well? What were you +shooting at?"</p> + +<p>"I imagined it was at the man who sent the dinghy adrift."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Wyndham, "I wondered—didn't think you'd carelessly stop too +long. In fact, I was pretty anxious until I heard the gun. But do you +reckon somebody did push off the dinghy?"</p> + +<p>Marston stated his grounds for believing this, and Wyndham, after +pondering for a few moments, looked hard at him.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose you see what it implies?"</p> + +<p>"I'm in the way. Somebody meant to get rid of me."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but that's not all," said Wyndham, with a dry smile. "It looks as +if I'm not thought dangerous; the man we're up against is not persuaded +my reform's sincere. On the whole, this may be an advantage. To puzzle +your antagonist is good strategy."</p> + +<p>He drained his glass and lighted his pipe. "In the meantime, we'll let +it go. What about the new running gear? Have we enough manilla rope for +the peak-halyards?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_III" id="CHAPTER_III_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br /> +<span class="smalltext">WYNDHAM TRIES PERSUASION</span></h2> + + +<p>The moon had not risen and thick mist drifted past the schooner before +the hot land-breeze. Marston was talking to Wyndham in the cabin, but +stopped when something bumped against the vessel's side.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"A canoe, I think," said Wyndham, and both listened.</p> + +<p>Marston wanted to run up on deck, but did not. Since his adventure on +the flat had rather shaken his nerve, he meant to use some control. For +a few moments they heard nothing and then the sliding hatch rattled, as +if somebody pulled it back. Marston thought it significant that none of +the crew had challenged the stranger. The hatch opened and the old +mulatto came down. He did not squat on the deck, as he had done before, +but sat, like a white man, on the side locker.</p> + +<p>"Give me a drink; you know my taste," he said, and Marston noticed that +he spoke good English.</p> + +<p>Wyndham gave him some old brandy and he drank with leisurely enjoyment. +Although he wore ragged and dirty cotton and his legs were bare, it was +obvious that Rupert Wyndham had now done with pretense.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>"I'm your guest," he said to Wyndham. "Perhaps it's not good manners, +but I'd sooner Mr. Marston left us alone."</p> + +<p>"Bob's my partner; I think we'll let him stay," Wyndham replied. "All +that interests me interests him."</p> + +<p>Rupert shrugged. "It looks as if you had given him your confidence."</p> + +<p>"He knows who you are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well!" said Rupert. "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve the +form of the invitation you gave my servant."</p> + +<p>"Something like <i>lè Majesté</i>?" Wyndham suggested.</p> + +<p>"Something like that," said Rupert with a touch of dryness. "After all, +I'm king <i>de facto</i> in the bush."</p> + +<p>"Then I think you ought to be content," Wyndham rejoined. "The republic +is forced to challenge a king <i>de jure</i>."</p> + +<p>Rupert looked at him with half-closed, bloodshot eyes, and Marston +thought his face was now like a negro's. After all, his civilized talk +and manners were a mask; the fellow was a negro underneath.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk about this again," he said in a careless voice. "You seem to +have got scrupulous since you went home. Is it a prudish girl's +influence or your partner's?"</p> + +<p>"My wife's, for the most part. If you take it for granted that I agree, +it will clear the ground."</p> + +<p>"Ah,"—said Rupert, frowning, "it looks as if I were foolish when I +helped you to marry. Perhaps I forgot—it's long since I studied things +from the white man's point of view and women don't count in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> the bush. +They are toys and don't make rules for their lovers."</p> + +<p>"Unless human nature's different in the jungle, I expect some do so," +Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>"Their end is generally sudden," said Rupert, with grim humor. Then he +turned to Wyndham. "I promised to make you rich. Have I cheated you?"</p> + +<p>"No. In a sense, you have kept your promise; but, for all that, I was +cheated. My reward vanished when I got it."</p> + +<p>Rupert gave him a mocking smile. "Sometimes it happens so, but this is +your affair and we will not philosophize. You made a bargain and got the +goods, for which you must pay."</p> + +<p>"I'm willing to pay. We have brought a load of stuff that has a standard +value in the bush. If this won't satisfy you, I've paid a sum to your +account at my bank. You can draw it when you like."</p> + +<p>"Neither plan will do. I don't want trade rubbish and money is not much +use. I need the goods I expected you to bring. If you refuse to supply +me, you miss a chance you will not get again."</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure that to seize the chance would be a very sound +speculation," Wyndham rejoined in a thoughtful voice.</p> + +<p>Marston looked hard at him. Harry's manner almost hinted that he was +hesitating, but this was unthinkable. Rupert, however, smiled.</p> + +<p>"You are a tactful fellow! You want me to state things plainly in order +to persuade you? Well, I will be frank, and if I can banish your +scruples, so much the better. We are relations and ought not to be +enemies——"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>Rupert paused for a moment or two and then went on: "I sent you rare +goods—that sell for high prices in England, but so far I have not sent +you the best. There are plants in the swamps for which doctors and +chemists would give very much. A few of my people know where they can be +found, but I am perhaps the only man who knows how the essences can be +distilled. After all, I am not a magician for nothing."</p> + +<p>"There is not much modern chemists do not know," Marston interposed.</p> + +<p>"Your manufacturing chemists have not got the plants," said Rupert +dryly. "The finished product is scarce and valuable; I have the +knowledge that can bring the raw material to the distilling retorts. +Well, if I use this knowledge, I make my charge, and I have offered my +nephew a generous share."</p> + +<p>"On some conditions, to which I can't agree," Wyndham rejoined. "Your +secret is worth money, but you can use it in one of two ways. You mean +to smuggle the stuff into England in small quantities at a monopoly +price; I think the other line would pay you better. Ship all you can, +develop the trade openly, and although the price will drop and you may +have rivals, the sums paid will be large and you will be first on the +ground."</p> + +<p>Rupert gave him an ironical smile. "You are rather obvious, Harry. You +want me to come out of my seclusion and engage in conventional trade. I +see drawbacks. In six months, English, American, and German buyers would +overrun the country, touting for business. The country's mine and my +people will not let white men get control. We are satisfied with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> the +old rules and don't want tram-roads, clearings, and factories. In fact, +we don't mean to be exploited for the advantage of Larrinaga's greedy +politicians, who'd sell the foreigners trading privileges for bribes."</p> + +<p>He stopped and drained his glass, and there was silence for a minute or +two. Wyndham understood his uncle and rather sympathized. Independence +and liberty to follow one's bent were worth much; one would not change +them carelessly for the commercialism that gave a man no choice but to +work by rule or starve. Marston, however, was puzzled and presently +remarked:</p> + +<p>"Clearings would let in some light, which the country needs."</p> + +<p>"The light your industrial civilization gives is dim. I and the others +would sooner have the dark. You hate the shadowy world because you do +not know it; I have lived in it long."</p> + +<p>"How have you lived?" Marston asked. "You are a white man and it's plain +you have unusual gifts. Yet you're satisfied to skulk about the swamps +in dirt and rags, cheating superstitious brutes by conjuring tricks! The +thing's unthinkable."</p> + +<p>Rupert looked at him with the smile Marston hated. It was malevolent and +mocked his philosophy.</p> + +<p>"Some of the tricks are clever; they have puzzled you. We will not argue +whether all are tricks or not. Anyhow, the clever impostor is a common +type. Men who claim magic power direct your company-floating and +manipulate your politics; but perhaps it's among primitive people the +fakir has most influence. In the bush, I'm high-priest, and something of +a prophet."</p> + +<p>"You claim to be king," said Wyndham, very dryly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> "Prophecy's not +difficult when you rather trust to knowledge your disciples haven't got +than inspiration. No doubt, you make lucky shots, but royalty's another +job. An unacknowledged king must fight for his crown. I want you to +think if you hadn't better give it up."</p> + +<p>Marston, looking from one to the other, felt the crisis had come. Both +were calm, but he thought Harry was highly strung. Their glances were +strangely keen; they looked like fencers about to engage. Marston +reflected that Rupert did not know Harry's new plans; nor did he know +Peters meant to meddle.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Rupert, "suppose I agree? What have you to offer?"</p> + +<p>"Much, I think. Your return to civilized life and the place where you +properly belong. However, we'll be practical. You can resume the +partnership in Wyndhams' that is really yours. I'll give you any just +share to which Bob will consent, and we'll use your knowledge as far as +we can do so lawfully. Our business could be extended and the house +ought to prosper in our joint control."</p> + +<p>Rupert laughed. "You offer money! In England, it would buy no power I +have not got, and the things I like I have. We'll let this go. You are +my nephew and perhaps you feel you must be generous; but don't you think +you're rash? Have you forgotten the years I've lived in the dark? Habits +stick. It would be embarrassing if your relation used the manners of a +savage, and I have idiosyncrasies that would give fastidious people a +nasty jolt. Then, since you have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> married, what about your wife? Women +are rather strict about conventional niceties."</p> + +<p>"My wife agrees," Wyndham replied, incautiously.</p> + +<p>"To your plans for my reform? Then, you have some plans. You are, so to +speak, missionaries. Well, I imagine Marston is fitter for the job. His +confidence can't be shaken, and he doesn't bother about the other +fellow's point of view. The successful missionary is a fanatic."</p> + +<p>"Give the thing up," said Marston, with some sternness. "You're white, +you're English! Come out of the mud!"</p> + +<p>Rupert shrugged and turned to Wyndham. "Your partner's staunch, but does +not use much tact. Can you see me ordering smart young clerks, talking +at an old men's club, and amusing your wife's friends in a conventional +drawing-room? If so, your imagination's vivid. I can't see myself." He +laughed, a harsh laugh. "In the bush I rule with power that nobody +challenges."</p> + +<p>Wyndham made a sign of resignation, and Marston owned defeat. After all, +he had not expected to persuade the Bat. Then the latter resumed:</p> + +<p>"You refuse to supply the goods I need?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then why do you stay and keep your agent at the village?"</p> + +<p>"Moreau will not stay long," said Wyndham, and Marston, seeing where +Rupert's question led, wondered how Harry would account for their +haunting the lagoon.</p> + +<p>"We came to trade," Wyndham went on. "Al<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>though I now see it won't pay +to keep an agent, we must clear off our stock of goods."</p> + +<p>"You can't do so without my leave."</p> + +<p>"I doubt this," said Wyndham. "Anyhow, we're going to try. It's obvious +you have some power, but a firm rule generally provokes opposition and +we may do some business with the dissatisfied."</p> + +<p>Rupert looked hard at him. "You may find the experiment dangerous. On +the whole, my servants are staunch and know the advantage of keeping out +foreigners. Well, this is your affair, and since it's plain we can't +agree, I won't stay."</p> + +<p>He got up and while Marston studied him with a touch of horror he seemed +to change, as if he shook off the superficial civilization he had worn. +His lips got thick and stuck out; they looked strangely red and sensual. +His eyes got dull and the colored veins were plainer, and he rubbed one +bare foot with the other's flexible toes. Marston felt he had reverted +to the old mulatto.</p> + +<p>"You go dash me them bottle?" he said with a grin.</p> + +<p>They let him pick up the bottle of brandy, he climbed the ladder, and +the hatch slid back. There was no noise on deck and they did not hear a +paddle splash, but they knew he had gone. Marston drained his glass and +looked at Wyndham, whose face was rather white. He saw Harry had got a +jar, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>After a few moments Wyndham broke out: "At the last, he looked a +half-breed. A trick of pushing out his lips and stretching his nostrils, +perhaps; but one feels he is a half-breed. I think he will never really +be a white man again. He gave no hint of regret for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> all that he has +lost; it was rather horrible to see he was content."</p> + +<p>"He is content, he has done with civilization," said Marston quietly. +"We must remember this."</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. "From now, we have not to deal with Rupert Wyndham, but +with the Bat. To some extent, it makes the job easier. All the same, we +can't give him up to Larrinaga. It's unlucky we could not have kept him +on board."</p> + +<p>"That was impossible. Your asking him to come implied that he was safe. +Besides, we were forced to try persuasion first. Well, we have tried. +What's the next plan?"</p> + +<p>"I have none. We must wait."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he was satisfied with the grounds we gave for stopping? I +mean, do you imagine he believes we merely want to trade?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Wyndham moodily. "Perhaps I made a lucky shot when +I talked about our trading with the opposition. I imagine it touched +him; looks as if there was an opposition. Then I don't suppose he knows +Peters is on our track and his. Well, in the meantime we must use +patience and trust our luck."</p> + +<p>He went up on deck and Marston went to bed. For a time he heard +Wyndham's restless tread on the planks above him, and then he went to +sleep.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_IV" id="CHAPTER_III_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br /> +<span class="smalltext">WYNDHAM FINDS A CLEW</span></h2> + + +<p>A few days after Rupert's visit to the schooner, a quantity of cargo +arrived. The goods were not valuable, but the owners were satisfied with +the payment Wyndham told his agent to offer and Marston was surprised +they had got a load at all.</p> + +<p>"It's strange," said Wyndham thoughtfully when they lounged under the +awning while the negroes unloaded the canoes. "Of course, the Bat may +have allowed the stuff to come down, for reasons that are not very +plain. On the other hand, it's possible some of the half-breeds don't +yet own his rule. Since this might be important, I'd rather like to +know, but don't see much chance of our finding out."</p> + +<p>Marston noted that Harry called Rupert the Bat, but he agreed. Rupert +was no longer a white man. All the same he was Harry's relation.</p> + +<p>"I imagine our chance of finding out anything useful here is very +small," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Then suppose we take the cargo across for transshipment and see if we +can pick up a clew at the other end?" Wyndham suggested. "If we knew +something about Larrinaga's plans, it might help."</p> + +<p>Although the schooner was not half-loaded, Marston agreed. Any excuse +was good that took him away from the lagoon, and at noon next day +<i>Columbine</i> went to sea. The voyage to the white town was short and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> on +the evening of their arrival Marston lounged contentedly on the arcade +in front of his hotel. A full moon shone above the flat roofs, the hotel +was lighted, and the glow from the windows touched the pavement beyond +the pillars. Citizens, enjoying the cool of the evening, crowded the +streets, and sometimes stopped at the small tables to drink a glass of +wine. On the opposite side of the street, the straight-fronted houses +threw a dark shadow. The band of the <i>cazadores</i> regiment played on the +plaza.</p> + +<p>Wyndham was talking to a gentleman from whom his agent bought goods. Don +Luis came to town to gamble at the casino, and Marston had met him +before.</p> + +<p>"You must come and see my <i>finca</i>," he said. "There are ducks on the +marsh and you English are fond of sport."</p> + +<p>Marston said he would be pleased to go if they stopped long enough; and +then letting Wyndham carry on the talk, watched the passers-by. After a +few minutes, a big muscular negro entered the belt of light, and Marston +glanced at him with some surprise.</p> + +<p>"There's Pepe!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>He doubted if the negro heard him through the clink of glasses and hum +of talk, but it looked as if he saw his quick movement, for he turned +his head and went behind a group at a table.</p> + +<p>"Somebody like him," said Wyndham carelessly, and when Marston looked +back across the street the negro had vanished.</p> + +<p>People moved about and Marston imagined he had retired into the gloom, +where one could not distinguish him from the others. Pepe was the pilot +at the lagoon, a good-humored fellow whom they had generally given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> a +small present besides his pay. As a rule, he did not wear much clothes +on board, but he was now rather neatly dressed in white cotton and his +hat was good. On the Caribbean coast, men spend large sums on their +hats. It looked as if Pepe was getting rich, but Marston could not +imagine why he did not want to be seen. He was going to talk about this +when he caught Wyndham's eye and he lighted a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"My partner is a good shot," Wyndham said to their companion. "We will +be occupied for two or three days, but perhaps after that——"</p> + +<p>Don Luis fixed a day for their visit, and when he went off Marston +turned to Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"It was Pepe," he declared.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I saw him. I think he was with the officer of the port-guard."</p> + +<p>"But what is he doing here? And why did he step back when I turned to +you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Wyndham. "The thing's interesting."</p> + +<p>Marston agreed, but he could suggest no explanation and they talked +about Don Luis. In the morning, when the narrow streets got hot, they +went to the <i>marina</i> where the sea breeze blew among the pepper-trees +and palms. After lounging for a time on a shady bench, Wyndham indicated +some carpenters at work behind the mole.</p> + +<p>"It's too early to meet our agent. Let's see what those fellows are +doing," he proposed.</p> + +<p>They crossed a belt of shingle and found the carpenters mending a big +open boat. Two or three other boats were drawn up close by and planks +lay about. When Marston stopped, a man who had been sitting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> in the +shade got up and turned to him with a careless smile. It was Pepe, the +negro pilot.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" said Marston. "Have you given up your job?"</p> + +<p>"Not for long. One likes a change," the other replied.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Wyndham examined the boats. He knew the type, which was +used for taking off cargo to vessels that did not come into the harbor. +For their length, they carried a big load and were generally propelled +by four men who pulled the heavy oars double-banked. Their flat bottom +adapted them for use in shallow water.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to buy the <i>candrays</i>?" Wyndham asked.</p> + +<p>Pepe grinned. "One does not get rich by fishing and piloting. It is cool +here in the shade and I have not much to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Wyndham, "No doubt you have seen the schooner. I expect +we'll sail in about a week and we can give you a passage, if you are +going back."</p> + +<p>Pepe said he did not mean to return yet, and Marston and Wyndham went +away.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what he is doing about the boats, although I don't know if it +matters," Marston remarked.</p> + +<p>"He was rather obviously loafing."</p> + +<p>"I'd have expected to find him loafing about a second-class wine shop."</p> + +<p>"With a hat like his and new yellow boots?" said Wyndham dryly.</p> + +<p>"They may have cost him all he's got. These fellows are vain. All the +same, there's something strange about his being here and trying to pass +without our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> seeing him last night. He's frank enough this morning."</p> + +<p>"He may have been making the best of it because he could not steal off +before we came up."</p> + +<p>"It's possible, although I don't see why he should want to dodge us," +Marston replied, and added thoughtfully: "Since he's allowed to pilot +vessels at the lagoon, I expect he's the Bat's man."</p> + +<p>"Looks like that," said Wyndham. "I imagine he has been in Africa. +Although his Castilian is not remarkably bad, the English he uses on +board has the true West-coast twang. You might hear the words at +Kingston, but the accent's good <i>Sar Leone</i>. However, if he's a friend +of the Bat's, why was he going about with one of the President's +port-guard?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps he met him at a wine-shop; they're both sailors," Marston +suggested. "I thought you rather went out of your way to tell him we +would sail in a week."</p> + +<p>"An example of instinctive caution. It's possible we may sail before. In +the meantime, we won't bother about the thing."</p> + +<p>They went to the agent's office, and after transshipping their cargo set +out one morning for Don Luis' <i>finca</i>. The road was bad, their horses +were poor, and when they reached the big whitewashed, mud house their +host persuaded them to stop the night. Dinner was served at four o'clock +and soon afterwards Don Luis gave them fresh horses and they started for +the marsh. It got dark while they floundered through the mud and reeds, +but they shot some ducks as the light was going and stayed until the +mosquitoes drove them off.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>Going back, they took a road that crossed a steep hillside. Trees in +dark masses rolled down the slope and thin hot mist drifted about the +trunks. The moon, however, was full, and where there was an opening in +the wet leaves bright beams pierced the gloom and made pools of silver +light on the ground. A cloud of mosquitoes followed them and Marston's +horse was fresh. He was not used to the big stirrups and wide Spanish +saddle, and now and then found it hard to hold the animal. By and by, a +regular throbbing noise came up the hill and he turned to Don Luis.</p> + +<p>"It sounds like soldiers marching," he said.</p> + +<p>Don Luis pulled up. "It is soldiers. A battalion of <i>cazadores</i> occupies +the old mission. If we could go another way, it would be better, but +there is no road up the hill."</p> + +<p>The road was bad and narrow. There would not be much room for the +soldiers to pass, and Marston imagined this accounted for Don Luis' +wanting to turn off.</p> + +<p>"They keep the troops a long way from the town," he said.</p> + +<p>"The old mission makes a good barracks," Don Luis replied. "Besides, +this is the President's own battalion. They are very loyal while their +pay is regular, and made disturbances in the town, wrecking the wine +shops where there was revolutionary talk."</p> + +<p>They rode on and when the tramp of feet got louder, Marston asked: "Do +the <i>cazadores</i> often drill in the dark?"</p> + +<p>"Once they scarcely drilled at all," said Don Luis, laughing. "However, +since Ramon Larrinaga became the President's friend they drill them +much, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> German officers in command. Recently the drilling has got +harder and one wonders why this is and whether it means something. All +the same, I am a supporter of the President's and if he is satisfied—"</p> + +<p>The measured tramp was now very close, and the creak of leather and +rattle of straps and slings came out of the gloom. Marston thought he +could hear the labored breath of men toiling up hill. Then a hoarse +challenge rang out and his horse plunged across the road.</p> + +<p>"Hold him!" said Wyndham sharply, and two or three men with glittering +bayonets came into the moonlight that shone between the trees.</p> + +<p>"A picket, or advance guard!" Wyndham resumed. "Get down, Bob. You +mustn't let the brute go!"</p> + +<p>Marston's horse reared and tried to turn from the shining steel, but he +got his foot out of the awkward stirrup and swung himself from the +saddle. The others dismounted and the soldiers led them off the road and +then stood on guard.</p> + +<p>"I do not know if we are arrested," Don Luis remarked with a shrug. "One +must use patience; but I am not without some influence and expect +apologies when the officers arrive."</p> + +<p>When he had quieted his horse Marston lighted a cigarette and leaned +against a tree. For a few yards the moonlight shone upon the road and +when the first fours of the leading platoon crossed the illuminated belt +he was surprised. The <i>cazadores</i> were short, dark-skinned men. Their +sloped rifles wavered at different angles, and their march was +slouching, but they carried complete field equipment; pouches, +mess-tins, tools and bandoliers. It was the first time he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> had seen the +republican soldiers in regular marching order.</p> + +<p>"Your government has been extravagant," he said to Don Luis.</p> + +<p>Don Luis spread out his hands. "It is these Germans! Somebody will have +to pay and the country is poor. Perhaps it is well to pay the soldiers, +but one need not spend money on equipment until there is risk of war."</p> + +<p>"Then there is no risk of war just now?" Wyndham interposed.</p> + +<p>"I know of none. I cannot see why we should quarrel with our neighbors +and although the negroes are turbulent in the back country, one leaves +them alone. The Germans have led us into extravagance, señor. All must +be efficient and worked on a plan! They do not understand us. We are not +machines like them!"</p> + +<p>He stopped, for one of the guards roughly ordered the party farther back +into the wood. From their new position they could not see much. Sloped +rifles tossed and wavered across the opening in the trees; steel bands +and swivels shone in the moon, and one distinguished shadowy figures +going by. After a time the measured tramp got fainter and rolled up the +hill, and the beat of horses' feet came out of the gloom. The soldier +who had driven the party back went to the road and his voice reached the +others. Then he ordered them to advance and they saw two or three +mounted officers in the moonlight. One sat stiff and motionless and +asked a few sharp questions in uncouth Castilian, after which he turned +to a companion.</p> + +<p>"They say they are sportsmen and the fellow in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> cloak claims to be +well known. The others look like foreigners. I will leave you to talk to +them, Don Maccario."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Don Luis, "now the thing resolves itself!"</p> + +<p>The other officer pushed his horse forward, and then laughed. "It is +you, my friend! Well, perhaps we ought to make our apologies, but we are +being trained on the German model and you are not as discreet as usual."</p> + +<p>"Is one forbidden to look at the soldiers for whom, one must pay?" Don +Luis asked.</p> + +<p>"One is not encouraged, when they marched at night," the other rejoined +dryly.</p> + +<p>"I and my friends come back from shooting and there is no other road. +What must we do? It is well known that I am a staunch supporter of the +President's and a friend of Don Ramon's. However, you can see the ducks +and our guns."</p> + +<p>"It is not necessary. Do you know Don Ramon is at the mission? I think +he means to breakfast with you to-morrow. But who are your friends?"</p> + +<p>Don Luis presented Wyndham and Marston, and after greeting them politely +the officer let the party go. They rode on down the hill and Don Luis +grumbled.</p> + +<p>"I am staunchly for the Government; the thing was ridiculous. I do not +see why they hide our soldiers. It is some German plan. We will talk +about it to Don Ramon if he comes in the morning."</p> + +<p>When they reached the <i>finca</i> and Wyndham and Marston were alone for a +few minutes the former said, "Perhaps it's lucky we came here, because I +think I have found a clew. I expect you noted they tried to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> keep the +drilling and equipping of the President's battalion a secret."</p> + +<p>"It looks like that," said Marston. "Still I don't see what it implies."</p> + +<p>"For one thing, it implies they want a small, highly-efficient, striking +force. The force is obviously to be used. These fellows don't study +efficiency for its own sake."</p> + +<p>"But why don't they want people to know?"</p> + +<p>"I think that's rather plain. There's an advantage in striking before +your antagonist is ready, and the citizens of this country have some +talent for political intrigue; plot and counter plot are always going +on. I don't imagine the President altogether trusts his friends."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Marston, "I begin to see——"</p> + +<p>He stopped, and when Don Luis came up talked about the shooting.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_V" id="CHAPTER_III_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br /> +<span class="smalltext">DON LUIS' BREAKFAST PARTY</span></h2> + + +<p>One got up early at the Finca Buenavista, and when they had been given +some black coffee and a small hard roll, Wyndham and Marston went to a +bench in the patio. The house was built in a hollow square and its +occupants used the patio when the rooms were hot. One wall was pierced +by arches opening to the kitchen and stable; outside stairs, balconies, +and windows with green shutters, broke the straight front of the others. +In places, purple masses of Bougainvillea glowed against the ochre wash, +and beyond the flat roof a steep hill, darkly green with foliage, rolled +up against a background of distant mountains. In the middle of the +square a pepper tree stretched its thin branches across a marble +fountain, in which shining water splashed. The <i>finca</i> dated back to +days when the country prospered under Spanish rule.</p> + +<p>Wyndham lighted his pipe and looked thoughtful when he began to smoke.</p> + +<p>"If Larrinaga is curious about us, he will come to breakfast," he said. +"Since I think we can take this for granted, we had better choose our +line."</p> + +<p>"Why do you think he is curious?" Marston asked.</p> + +<p>"To begin with, I doubt if he's persuaded our object for stopping at the +lagoon is to carry on an ordinary, lawful trade. We have some grounds +for imagining Peters has not told him the Bat is my rela<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>tion; but I +expect he knows we could not get much cargo without the Bat's consent. +Then it's possible he has heard about our examining the boats, and now +we are found watching the secret maneuvers of his troops. It's pretty +obvious whom they are to be used against."</p> + +<p>Marston nodded. "I've been pondering this. They could put three or four +platoons of <i>cazadores</i> on board the old gunboat and land them where +they are wanted in the cargo lighters. In fact, if it was fine weather, +the Government's tug could tow them all the way. That's why Larrinaga +brought the pilot over. The question is: what ought we to do about it? +Do you mean to warn the Bat?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," said Wyndham, thoughtfully. "If he got warning soon enough, +he would probably be able to make a good fight. Although I don't imagine +he could win, a number of the soldiers would be killed. We don't want +this."</p> + +<p>Marston agreed. Their business was not to take a side. Indeed, it was +unthinkable that they should help either party. All the same, he was +puzzled, because since they could not allow the Bat to be captured and +shot, something must be done. After a moment or two, Wyndham resumed:</p> + +<p>"I have a half-formed plan. We must find out where the soldiers will +land and when they'll start. Then we must get across before them and +take the Bat the news while they are marching through the bush. It will +not matter if his spies bring him word a few hours sooner. This will +bear out our tale; but our arrival must be carefully timed."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Marston and pondered.</p> + +<p>Harry's plan was vague, but on the whole it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> good. The Bat must be +taken by surprise, without time being given him to organize a defense. +Then he might be forced to surrender, not to the soldiers but to his +relation, and they must try to smuggle him on board the yacht. The +scheme, however, needed to be carefully worked out.</p> + +<p>"You are reckoning on his not being ready to fight," he said.</p> + +<p>Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "That is so. You ought to see why he +is not ready, because, to some extent, you are accountable. Negroes and +half-breeds, armed with cutlasses and a few old guns, can't stand up +against well-drilled troops. The Bat has been embarrassed by not getting +the material he expected us to bring."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Marston awkwardly. "Well, how are we to find out when +the troops will sail?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. So far, we have been lucky; we must trust our luck +again."</p> + +<p>"Suppose all goes as you expect, and the Bat sees a struggle would be +useless and gives himself up to us? What are we going to do with him?"</p> + +<p>"That's perhaps the worst puzzle," said Wyndham dryly. "We must try to +solve it when it comes. It's possible, however, the Bat may solve it for +us."</p> + +<p>Marston smoked for a time, glancing sympathetically at Wyndham, who +knitted his brows. Then Bob said, "To begin with, we have got to bluff +Larrinaga and he is not a fool. How do you mean to satisfy him?"</p> + +<p>"On the whole, I think I'll leave the job to you," Wyndham replied and +his eyes twinkled when he saw Marston's surprise. "Don Ramon's a good +judge of character and would think a little embarrassment on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> your part +rather natural. You're not the stuff romantic conspirators are made of, +and our being partners will imply much. However, there's a drawback; he +mustn't think I have cheated and am using you."</p> + +<p>"Then, I'm to look simple and trustful, but not altogether a fool. You +give me a hard part. I doubt if I can play it," Marston grumbled.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't try to play a part," said Wyndham firmly. "Be frank where +you can, but don't talk too much. There's a thing may help us; Don Ramon +will be careful not to hint our seeing the boats and the soldiers in +field equipment is important."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Marston gloomily, "I'll be glad when breakfast's over."</p> + +<p>About eleven o'clock two servants began to spread a table under the +pepper tree, where the shadow of a projecting balcony stretched across +the broken flags. Soon afterwards, Don Luis, looking hot and slightly +disturbed, entered the patio with Larrinaga and a thin, dark-faced +gentleman who wore plain white clothes. Marston, however, noted that his +hat and silk belt were remarkably good, and thought he had somewhere +seen his portrait, only the man had then worn a handsome uniform. Bob +got up as the strangers advanced and Wyndham, taking off his hat, gave +him a quick glance. Marston felt he was warned to brace himself.</p> + +<p>"My poor house is honored to-day," Don Luis remarked. "Our illustrious +President will breakfast with us."</p> + +<p>The President smiled urbanely and Don Luis presented his guests. Wyndham +saw and frankly returned Larrinaga's twinkle, but he felt some strain +and hoped Bob would take the proper line. If, as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> thought, he +understood Don Ramon, the latter had, perhaps, hinted they would sooner +breakfast unceremoniously in the patio; Wyndham afterwards found this +supposition correct. The stage was, so to speak, properly set. The light +was strong and a row of windows commanded the table. Nothing indicated +plot or secrecy. The party would meet without reserve and engage in +careless talk.</p> + +<p>"I did not know his Excellency was at the mission, or I might have +ventured to offer him hospitality," Don Luis remarked when the President +was served.</p> + +<p>"Nobody knows," said the latter, smiling. "Now and then I neglect my +duties and steal away from town. I can trust my officers, when they do +not know I have gone. A President has some cares and perhaps deserves a +holiday. Besides, I like to watch my soldiers' drill."</p> + +<p>Wyndham imagined the President had thought it prudent to account for his +visit to the mission, and admitted that the statement was plausible. He +said that so far as he could judge, the <i>cazadores</i> were excellently +drilled.</p> + +<p>"I understand it was dark when you saw them," the President replied. +"However, if soldiers interest you and I am not recalled to town, you +and Señor Marston must come and see them at the morning parade."</p> + +<p>"I hope we did not break your rules last night," said Marston. "Perhaps +I ought to have pulled up sooner, but my horse was fresh and got out of +control. Then I was not used to the saddle and stirrups. I do not ride +much."</p> + +<p>"Señor Marston is a sailor, what the English call a yachts-man," +Larrinaga interposed. "For him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> sport means the sea. His taste is +strange, but some of his countrymen are like that. If I were rich, I +would sooner amuse myself at the casino."</p> + +<p>"Then our friend is rich?" the President remarked. "But I +remember—these gentlemen paid some duties our officers neglected to +collect. It is a thing that does not often happen in this country. Since +Señor Marston is both rich and honest, he has my felicitations. However, +we owe him and Don Luis some apologies." He turned to the others. "I +hope you were not treated roughly, but our new officers are very strict +and use all military caution."</p> + +<p>Wyndham laughed. "We make no complaint. But surely even a German officer +could not imagine three or four men with shot-guns meant to attack a +battalion of soldiers as brave and disciplined as yours? We would much +like to see them in the daylight."</p> + +<p>"If I am allowed to stop at the mission, we will fix a time," the +President said graciously.</p> + +<p>"Is not the mission an awkward spot for a barracks?" Wyndham asked. "It +is a long way from the town and the road is bad."</p> + +<p>"It is lonely and quiet. Ours is a small country and we have jealous +neighbors. One must take precautions, but, since spies are numerous, it +is not prudent to display our readiness to fight. When one wants peace, +one does not go about with a fine new pistol in one's belt."</p> + +<p>Wyndham agreed. The President's explanation was plausible and his +humorous frankness calculated to banish doubt, but Wyndham was not +deceived. Moreover, he thought Larrinaga was watching him. Larrinaga's +object for bringing the President was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> plain; he wanted his master to +see the men he had allowed to trade at a spot where the Bat would try to +get supplies. Wyndham felt that he and Marston were being closely +examined. Then the President turned to Marston.</p> + +<p>"Since I am told you came from Africa in your little ship, it looks as +if you are a keen sailor."</p> + +<p>"I love the sea," said Marston, simply. "There is no other sport like +sailing."</p> + +<p>The President shrugged, and pushing back his plate, gave Marston a +cigar.</p> + +<p>"It is a love that needs cultivation. When I go to sea I am very ill. +Then one understands you others have comfortable yachts. To go to sea in +a trading boat is another thing."</p> + +<p>"All the same, one is at sea," Marston replied. "Besides, in a sense, a +yacht is a toy, and when you have sailed about for a time you begin to +feel it is playing and does not lead to much." He paused and resumed +apologetically: "Yachting is not serious, if you understood. I expect my +Castilian is very bad."</p> + +<p>The President smiled and Wyndham thought his look of puzzled amusement +was well done. He was satisfied with his comrade's reply. Bob was not +playing up; he was sincere. The others would recognize this.</p> + +<p>"The English are a serious people," the President remarked. "But go on, +my friend. I am not bored."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Marston, "when I got tired of playing, I saw how I could +make my yachting useful. I thought I could earn some money. Then Harry, +I mean Señor Wyndham—" He stopped and gave Wyndham an apologetic +glance.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>"He means he wanted to help me," Wyndham interposed.</p> + +<p>"To earn money is certainly useful," the President observed and turned +to Wyndham. "Your partner is a very scrupulous gentleman; he would not +rob me and feels that he must use his talents. But you do not go to sea +altogether because you like it?"</p> + +<p>"I am a merchant and live by trade. I am forced to earn money."</p> + +<p>"Then I hope you will earn enough to pay us our duties and I expect Don +Ramon will help you when he can," said the President. "I am sorry we +have no ships to show Señor Marston, because we are too poor to build a +navy yet. We have an old gunboat and a big new tug. I do not know why we +bought the tug, but the captain of the port-guards uses her to travel +about the coast."</p> + +<p>He paused and got up. "Now I must go back to the mission. If it is +possible, you shall see our soldiers, and if not, I may perhaps come to +see your ship."</p> + +<p>Larrinaga and Don Luis went off with him and Marston drained his glass.</p> + +<p>"That's done with!" he remarked with keen relief. "After all, it was +easier than I thought, but I got a knock when I saw the fellow was the +President. Don Luis is a staunch supporter of his and perhaps he +imagined breakfasting with him would be a cheap reward. Presidents and +such people do things like that."</p> + +<p>"It's possible, but I doubt," said Wyndham dryly.</p> + +<p>"Then suppose he came to study us? Do you think he feels we might be +dangerous?"</p> + +<p>"I imagined he feels he needn't bother about you. I'd much like to know +what he thinks about me."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>"Oh, well," said Marston, "he didn't push me hard and I got a part I +could play. I'm on firm ground so long as I can talk about boats. All +the same, when you come to think of it, if the fellow wanted to study +us, the thing's ominous. The country's not big, but he's its head and I +don't know if Presidents are often polite to traders."</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" said Wyndham. "We must be careful. Anyhow, we have found out +something. They don't want us to think they suspect us, or that their +drilling the soldiers is important. They're clever, but their frankness +was overdone. However, we must start for the port when Don Luis +returns."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_VI" id="CHAPTER_III_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br /> +<span class="smalltext">A SAIL IN THE DARK</span></h2> + + +<p><i>Columbine</i>'s gig rubbed against the landing steps and Wyndham and +Marston lounged about the end of the mole. The sun had sunk behind a +high, black range and the land-breeze had begun to blow in gentle gusts +that crisped the greasy water and dropped again. When the crew were +trimming ballast in the hold, a man shouted that some chain Wyndham had +ordered had arrived, and he and Marston pulled the gig to the steps. +After putting the chain on board, they strolled to the town, where they +drank a glass of wine and bought a newspaper; and then went back to the +mole. For the last few nights they had slept on board, but it was early +in the evening and the top of the wall was cooler than the deck of the +yacht. Besides, a Spanish liner was steering for the port and they +waited to watch her passengers land.</p> + +<p>Presently Wyndham looked up from the newspaper. "It's lucky we bought +the <i>Diario</i>. It declares the report that the Sta Catalina mission was +recently plundered is not confirmed."</p> + +<p>"Isn't that Father Sebastian's station?" Marston asked.</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. "A few mud huts, and a small, thatched church! Still, it +belongs to a famous Order and pious folk no doubt sent gifts, because +the <i>Diario</i>'s remarks indicate that the Virgin's jewels were supposed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +to have been stolen. If this is true, the thing's significant. The most +part of the people here are pretty staunch Catholics."</p> + +<p>"But the newspaper states the report is <i>not</i> confirmed."</p> + +<p>"It is not denied," said Wyndham, meaningly. "I imagine the Government +had given the editor a hint. You see, the desecration of a church by +negroes would rouse the citizens' feelings and lead to a popular demand +for swift punishment. If the President complied, the Bat would know +about it, and the republicans would lose the advantage of surprise. All +the same, they must strike soon, because the Bat will now get ready."</p> + +<p>"Then, why do you think he let his people rob the mission?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think he did so. Perhaps some were too keen and got out of +control; perhaps some meant to force Larrinaga to put him down. They're +a treacherous lot and given to intrigue. However, there's another bit of +news. The gunboat, <i>Campeador</i>, has gone into Anagas, damaged, after +stranding, and will need extensive repairs. I expect this is true, +because folks at Anagas could see the boat."</p> + +<p>"It's important," Marston declared. "If the gunboat's damaged, Don Ramon +can't use her to carry his troops. Still I suppose the Government tug +could tow them along the coast on board the lighters. They are +overhauling her at San Cristobal. Looks as if we had better find out +when they'll finish the job."</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. San Cristobal was some distance off; a small town with a +good harbor, where there was a foundry and a coaling wharf. Yet it would +be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> dangerous to make open inquiries about the tug or to visit the +place, because Wyndham had grounds for imagining they were watched. +Indeed, one of the port-guards was lounging near them. When a whistle +screamed he looked up and saw the liner circle outside the mole. Foam +broke about her side as the screw turned astern, a row of lights flashed +into brightness, and big electric hatch lamps blazed up on deck. She +stopped, the anchor splashed, and the doctor's noisy launch went off. +Then the yellow flag came down and shore boats crowded about the ship.</p> + +<p>It was nearly dark when the returning boats pulled towards the mole. A +steamer was anchored near the entrance, and <i>Columbine</i> rode between her +and the wall, leaving a narrow channel through which the boats must +pass. When the first was close by Wyndham glanced carelessly at the +passengers, but after a few moments his glance got fixed. Among the row +of faces there was one he thought he knew and as the boat drew level +with him he clenched his fist.</p> + +<p>"Look at the third man in the stern-sheets, Bob," he said.</p> + +<p>Marston looked and started. "It's Peters! This is going to make things +awkward. The brute has lost no time. D'you think he knows we're here?"</p> + +<p>"He knows <i>Columbine</i>," said Wyndham. "I imagine he sees her." Peters +turned his head and his movements indicated that he was talking to the +sailor who rowed on the thwart in front.</p> + +<p>"That is enough," Marston remarked. "He'll try us again in the morning, +and if we're firm, he'll see what he can do with Larrinaga. We are going +to be firm. I won't buy off the brute."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>"Then we had better get to sea, but we must find out about the tug +before we start. On the whole, I think we'll get about it now."</p> + +<p>Marston was surprised. "San Cristobal's a long way off, and I don't know +if we could hire horses. Then I doubt if we could return by noon +to-morrow, and one of the port-guards might board <i>Columbine</i> in the +morning. Larrinaga would guess our object if he found out where we'd +gone."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Wyndham. "We can't go by road, but the gig is here and +we'd shorten the distance by sailing across the bay. In fact, if we're +lucky, we ought to have an hour or two to look about and then get back +by daybreak. The land-breeze will soon blow fresh; a fair wind both +ways."</p> + +<p>"By George!" said Marston. "The thing can be done!"</p> + +<p>Running down the steps, they pushed off the gig. She was a well-built +boat, twenty feet long, and on the African coast Marston had got a Fanti +carpenter to fit her with a centerboard. She carried a big sail when she +had a crew on board, and now the heavy chain would make good ballast. +When they had got a compass, a lantern, and some food from <i>Columbine</i>, +they pulled off among some shore boats going to the liner, and vanished +into the darkness round her stern.</p> + +<p>"If the port-guard saw us, he'd reckon we meant to board the mailboat, +but it's possible he didn't pick us out from the others," Wyndham +remarked. "Well, the breeze is freshening. Let's put up the mast."</p> + +<p>They were occupied for some minutes, and then Wyndham sat down at the +tiller and the gig, leaning over, gathered speed. Marston had had the +lugsail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> and jib made in England by a famous yacht-chandler, and the +boat was fast. Foam piled up at her lee bow, lapped the gunwale at her +waist, and boiled round her stern. The breeze came down in gusts from +the high land, and now and then the boat, listing sharply, shipped some +water. Wyndham might have avoided this by slackening the sheet, but he +held on to the rope and kept his course. Although the night was dark, he +could see the hills against the sky and for a time he followed the +coast. Then, when the shore curved back in a wide bay, he told Marston +to put the compass on the thwart and light the lantern.</p> + +<p>"Get out the baler and bucket, afterwards," he said. "There's room +enough for the wind to knock up the sea, and she'll take some water on +board as we reach across. Time's valuable and we must hold her to it, +without shortening sail."</p> + +<p>Marston crouched behind the lifted weather gunwale and lighted the +lantern; then he saw that halyards and sheets were clear, and afterwards +pulled up the well-board in the stern flooring. Sitting down with the +baler in his hand by the hole, he waited and looked about. The sea began +to break as they drew out from the land. Showers of spray beat into the +hollow of the jib and the splashes that blew across the weather bow got +heavier. The wind was not, as they had hoped, abeam, but a point or two +ahead, and Marston lowered the centerboard, which jolted in its trunk +when she plunged. She was not shipping much water yet and he wondered +whether he could light his pipe. Then Wyndham said, "Look out!"</p> + +<p>A white comber rose to windward, there was a thud, and jib and short +bowsprit vanished. A white cloud<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> hid the mainsail and foaming water +flooded aft. As he used the baler Marston heard the sheet-blocks rattle. +Wyndham was easing her while he threw the water out. It was hard to fill +the bucket because the flood washed to and fro, but he knew the job was +urgent. He was wet and breathless when he looked up.</p> + +<p>"A nasty one!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Here's another," said Wyndham, and flying water whipped Marston's face.</p> + +<p>After this he was kept occupied. Sometimes he used the bucket and +sometimes the baler, for water came on board fast. Now and then he +imagined Wyndham slackened the sheet to ease a plunge that might swamp +the boat, but this was Harry's business and he must not neglect his. +Balancing himself against the lurching, he scooped up the splashing +flood. When a gust heeled the boat over it gained on him, and then as +the pressure slackened he held his own, but while he used his best +efforts he could not bale her dry. At length, when his arms ached and he +was very wet, he stopped for a few moments.</p> + +<p>"Don't know if I can keep it up for long; I'm horribly cramped," he +said. "Can't we drop the lug and tie in a reef?"</p> + +<p>"I doubt if she'd hold her course with sail shortened," Wyndham replied. +"The breeze has drawn another point ahead and we'll lose time we can't +spare if we're forced to tack. Stick it out, Bob. We'll get smoother +water when we pick up the land again."</p> + +<p>He stopped and jerked the tiller, a moment too late, for a sea came over +the bow. The water foamed about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> Marston's knees, the lantern went out, +and he thought he felt the compass strike his legs.</p> + +<p>"Bale!" said Wyndham, sharply. "She'll capsize if she ships another +before you get this lot out."</p> + +<p>Marston did his best, while the lantern and compass washed against the +bucket. There was no use in stopping to pick them up, since he could not +get a light and Harry was now steering by the wind. He must keep her as +near it as she would point until they crossed the bay and found the land +again. Marston hoped this would be soon. For some time he did not look +up and afterwards wondered how Wyndham kept her afloat, but at length +the plunges got easier and the water did not come on board so fast. By +degrees, he got it under, and stopping to stretch his cramped limbs, +looked to windward. The sea was smoother and the breeze not so fresh. +There was a vague dark line not far off and he knew they were +approaching the beach.</p> + +<p>"We'll be round the point in a few minutes," said Wyndham. "Bale her +dry, and then look out for the red light at San Cristobal."</p> + +<p>Soon after he stopped baling, Marston saw a red twinkle. The gig was +sailing very fast, swaying down and recovering buoyantly as the gusts +came and went. The lug-yard bent in a strained curve and showers of +spray blew into the sail. Marston, stooping behind the gunwale, managed +to strike a match and told Wyndham the time when he had looked at his +watch.</p> + +<p>"We have made a good run, but she'll beat it going back, when we'll have +the wind a point or two aft," he added. "This ought to give us an hour, +or perhaps an hour-and-a-half, at the port."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span>"It will be enough. Unluckily, the tide is ebbing yet, and although +there's not much rise and fall, I don't know if we can both leave the +boat. It would be awkward if she grounded and we couldn't shove her +off."</p> + +<p>Marston nodded. The gig was heavy and he doubted if they could launch +her down a beach. It would be risky to tie her to landing steps, because +the port-guards watched the harbors at night. Vessels were not allowed +to enter after dark. Yet he did not want to be separated from Harry.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, they were fast coming up with the light, and when a +high, dark wall ran out in front Wyndham luffed the boat and they +lowered sail and took down the mast. Marston sculled her past the wall, +and the narrow harbor opened up. A few anchor lights swung languidly +inside, and the indistinct, dark shape of a steamer shut out part of the +wall. When they got near her Marston stopped sculling.</p> + +<p>"The repairing slip is up at the top by the foundry," he said. "I expect +the brigantine to starboard has a rope out. If we try to get across, we +might make a splash. If we go the other side, we'll pass close under the +steamer's rail. She's a pretty big boat; they'll have a <i>Sereno</i> on +board, and keep harbor watch. If somebody hailed us, it might bring the +port-guard."</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded and for a few moments they looked about. The harbor was +long and narrow. For the most part, the town at its end was dark, but +two or three big electric lamps threw a silver gleam across indistinct +masses of foliage. Marston thought these were trees on the <i>marina</i> at +the water's edge. If so, the faint light lower down came from the office +of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> the port-captain. Turning to the wall abreast of the gig, he +imagined he saw some steps.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you had better land me and wait while I try to find the tug," +he said. "I ought to get back in an hour."</p> + +<p>"The awkward part is going along the mole," Wyndham replied. "You'll +have to pass two or three vessels and somebody may speak to you. This +must be risked one way, but instead of coming back, it might be prudent +to cross the land end of the mole and join me on the beach in front of +the <i>marina</i>. There's not much surf to bother us, but it will make some +noise and if anybody is about you won't be heard."</p> + +<p>Marston agreed, and sculling to the steps, jumped out. He pushed off the +gig, and Wyndham picked up the oar. In another few moments the boat +vanished in the dark.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_VII" id="CHAPTER_III_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE TUG</span></h2> + + +<p>When he had climbed the steps Marston stopped. Now he had started on his +adventure he saw its difficulties. To begin with, he must pass two or +three vessels, and the lights that burned on the steamer touched the +mole. She came from Cadiz and Spanish passenger boats carried a +<i>Sereno</i>, whose particular duty was to keep watch at night. Marston was +afraid the man might hail him. Although he had laboriously studied +Castilian, he did not speak it well, and his accent would indicate that +he was a foreigner. If the <i>Sereno</i> were curious and kept him talking, +the port-guard might come up. Anyhow, there was some risk of his meeting +the latter and he would then be asked to account for his wandering about +in the dark. It was obvious that he could not do so satisfactorily, and +there was a telephone to the Government office at the Capital.</p> + +<p>Marston doubted if Larrinaga could imprison him for spying, but it did +not matter much. If he were found at San Cristobal, Don Ramon would know +his object and would not let him go until he had sent off his soldiers +to put down the Bat. If the latter were not warned, he would probably be +surprised and captured. This was unthinkable, and Marston saw he must +not be caught, although to run away from the port-guard might lead to +his getting shot. The fel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>lows carried pistols, which they were +empowered to use. Caution was plainly needed, and he crept past the +steamer, keeping close to the high parapet of the mole.</p> + +<p>Nobody hailed him, and he went on until he came opposite a small marque. +She had no lights, but as he stole by his foot struck a mooring rope and +he fell. He lay flat on the ground for some moments, and then, hearing +no movement on board, got up and crept away, looking out for the next +rope. The mole was long and he had not gone far when he heard the splash +of oars. A boat came out of the dark, and a break in the wall indicated +a row of steps. Marston did not want to turn back, and it was possible +the men were going to one of the vessels. If they were going to the +town, he had better get past the steps before they landed. A pile of +goods forced him to leave the gloom of the parapet and it looked as if +his figure cut against the sky, for the splash of oars stopped.</p> + +<p>"<i>Ola compañero!</i>" somebody shouted.</p> + +<p>Marston saw he must trust his luck and asked gruffly: "<i>Que quiere?</i>"</p> + +<p>The man said they were coming to let go a schooner's rope but he might +throw it down, and Marston dragged the heavy warp to the edge.</p> + +<p>"<i>Coje-le</i>," he said in a hoarse voice and threw down the rope.</p> + +<p>He imagined it fell upon the others' heads, for somebody said, "<i>Mal +rayo! Esta borracho.</i>"</p> + +<p>Then the boat pulled away and Marston went on. If the fellows thought +him drunk, so much the better. This would account for his brevity and +uncouth accent. He wondered whether the shouting had excited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> the +port-guards' curiosity, but although he stopped to listen he heard +nothing.</p> + +<p>By-and-by he got near the end of the mole and distinguished the +repairing ship, which ran down obliquely to the water. The trees on the +<i>marina</i> rose behind it, touched in places by the glow from two big +electric lamps, and a blurred, dark mass cut against the illumination. +This was, no doubt, the tug and he wondered, rather anxiously, whether +the crew were on board. Stopping where the gloom was deepest, he looked +carefully about.</p> + +<p>The tug's bow rose high above him, but he doubted if the tide had left +her stern. So far as he could feel with his feet, the stones were +covered by broken shells, and he smelt paint. In the tropics, the bottom +of an iron vessel soon gets crusted with shells and weed, and it looked +as if the crew had scraped the boat. When the plates were clean they +would paint her with red-oxide before applying the anti-fouling coat. It +was important for him to find out which they had put on, because, since +they could only work at low-water, this might mean a difference of a day +or two in the time needed to finish the job. All the same, he could not +take it for granted that she would be ready for sea when the last coat +was dry. He understood her engines were being overhauled, and must +ascertain if the work were done.</p> + +<p>Marston moved lower down the inclined slip. The tug was a big propeller +boat and rested, upright, on heavy shores. When he was level with the +engine-room he saw a ladder against her side and his foot struck +something that tinkled. Stooping down, he felt about and found a number +of short tubes, some of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> which had torn ends. They had obviously come +from the condenser, and re-tubing a condenser might be a long job. It +looked as if he would have to get on board, but, to begin with, he had +better see how far the men had gone with the painting.</p> + +<p>He rubbed his hand along the plates. Although they were pretty smooth, +this did not tell him much and he got no plainer hint when he used his +nose. There was a strong smell of paint, but he could not tell if it was +the priming coat, or the anti-fouling that would finish the work. +Perhaps he could find the drum that had held the paint and he began to +feel about as he moved down the slip. He had not gone far, however, when +he trod on a piece of iron that tilted up and dropped with a sharp +rattle. To continue the search might be dangerous and he stopped and +listened.</p> + +<p>All was quiet on board the tug; the trees on the <i>marina</i> tossed in the +wind and the surf rumbled behind the mole. A clinking noise came up the +harbor and Marston imagined the men whose rope he had thrown down were +getting ready to go to sea at sunrise; vessels were not allowed to leave +or enter port in the dark. This reminded Marston that it was some time +since he had left Wyndham and they must reach the schooner before +daybreak.</p> + +<p>He went back up the slip, hoping he might be able to see the tug's deck. +Now he was on higher ground, he noted a faint and rather puzzling +illumination behind her bulwarks. Its position indicated that it came +from the engine-room and he imagined the skylight was open but somebody +had thrown a tarpaulin across the frames. The hinged lights opened from +the bottom, and perhaps the engineer wanted to dry his paint and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> yet +keep the heavy dew off the machinery. Anyhow, since there was a light in +the engine-room, one could see below.</p> + +<p>Marston hesitated at the bottom of the ladder. It would be very awkward +if he were caught on board the tug; but he must find out if she were +ready for sea and he wore light, rubber-soled deck shoes. The ladder was +not fastened, for the top began to slip along the plates when he +climbed, and he was forced to reach up and seize the rail. Next moment +he stepped cautiously down on deck. Nobody seemed to have heard him and +all was dark but for the glow from the skylight, which only shone for a +few feet on the damp planks. As Marston made for the engine-room his +foot struck an iron drum and he stopped. It was a paint-drum, but he +must discover if it were empty and what paint the crew had used.</p> + +<p>He tilted the drum and its lightness indicated that there was not much +inside. Then he turned it round carefully until he could see the brass +label on the top. The letters were obscured by paint, but he +distinguished JES—and was satisfied. He knew the famous anti-fouling +composition; the crew had put on the last coat and, so far as her being +painted went, the tug was ready for sea. Now he must look at her +engines, and he put back the drum. Its rim jarred on the deck and +Marston thought he heard a movement below. Stooping down, he looked +under the tarpaulin and got something of a shock.</p> + +<p>A man stood on the floor plates in the engine-room, with his face turned +up towards the skylight as if he had been disturbed. Marston could not +see him well, because the bars of the top platform were in the way,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> but +the fellow carried a small, bright piece of steel and a ball of waste. +It looked as if he had been cleaning a valve-spindle, and his working at +night was significant. Marston's heart beat, but after a few moments the +other seemed to be satisfied and sitting down on a locker picked up a +file.</p> + +<p>When the fellow bent his head over his work Marston glanced carefully +about the engine-room. He saw the condenser; the cover was on, which +indicated that the repairs were finished. A chain tackle hung from the +beams above the cylinders and some nuts lay about their heads. The +pistons had obviously been lifted in order to put on new rings. Other +things Marston noted implied that the engines had been given a thorough +overhaul. He thought the work was nearly completed, but when one +examined a vessel's engines the boiler was generally opened and he crept +cautiously to the stokehold.</p> + +<p>The ladder came up to a grating on deck and when he had gone down half +way he struck a match. He could see the man-hole; the cover had recently +been taken off and replaced, for smears of red-lead marked the joint, +and Marston went cautiously back to the deck. He knew all he wanted to +know. The tug had been put in first-rate order, as if in preparation for +some important work, and he thought she could be floated off after +another tide. He must now rejoin Wyndham as soon as possible. So far, he +had been lucky, but when he went to the rail it looked as if his luck +had turned.</p> + +<p>A man, singing lustily, crossed the <i>marina</i> and his hoarseness implied +that he was returning from a carouse. As he passed the port-captain's +office some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>body hailed him and Marston heard him answer, "<i>Fogonero</i>."</p> + +<p>There was a short colloquy that seemed to get abusive, and then somebody +said, "<i>Vaya al diablo!</i>"</p> + +<p>The man laughed and came on unsteadily towards the mole. He was a ship's +fireman, and Marston, who did not want to meet him, hoped he was not +making for the tug. After a few moments he fell down and Marston thought +he kicked something savagely when he got up. His figure was now faintly +distinguishable and it was plain that he meant to board the tug. Marston +crawled round the skylight and crouched against the bulwarks on the +other side. A rope ran across the rail and he tried to feel if its end +was fast. The rope might help him to reach the ground.</p> + +<p>Then the awkward steps stopped at the tug and the ladder shook. Its +upper end slipped and a noise below indicated that the fireman had +fallen off.</p> + +<p>"Pancho, Panchito!" he shouted. "Come out and help, little parrot!"</p> + +<p>Marston heard the engineer clatter across the iron platforms and cross +the deck. So far as Marston could understand, his remarks were grossly +rude, but the other interrupted:</p> + +<p>"What is a small bottle of <i>caña</i> to a fireman? It is the ladder that is +drunk. If you will not hold it, little parrot, I must sleep in the +cold."</p> + +<p>To judge by the noise they made, Pancho seized the ladder while the +other scrambled up. He jumped on deck, laughing boisterously, a door +shut, and when the men's feet rattled on the platform bars in the +engine-room Marston crawled across the deck. He found the top of the +ladder, but had only gone down a few steps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> when it slipped across the +side and threw him off. Although he did not fall far, the ladder struck +the ground with a crash and he lay down in the gloom under the tug's +bilge.</p> + +<p>After waiting for a few moments he saw the others were not coming back +on deck, and he got up and stole along the slip. Crossing the mole with +a few quick steps, he climbed the parapet and dropped to the stones on +the other side. When he had gone a hundred yards along the beach he +whistled softly, and although the gravel rolled about in the languid +surf heard Wyndham's answer. Then the gig's white hull appeared +indistinctly among the streaks of foam, and he plunged into the backwash +as a wave recoiled. Seizing the gig's bow, he pushed her off and got on +board while Wyndham sculled her round. For two or three minutes they let +her drift off-shore; and then stepped the mast and hoisted sail.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Wyndham. "Did you find the tug?"</p> + +<p>Marston related his adventures and added: "I expect they'll float her +off next tide, but some of the small jobs I noted would hardly be +finished. Then she'll have to coal, fill her tanks, and get up steam. In +fact, I don't imagine she could start until sometime after dark +to-morrow. Five or six lighters were lying near the slip."</p> + +<p>"She'll no doubt bring them across," said Wyndham thoughtfully. "I +expect the skipper will go half-speed across the bay. Well, suppose she +arrives in the morning? The sea-breeze will freshen as the sun gets +high, and towing the loaded boats would be dangerous in broken water; +perhaps we can take it for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> granted the troops won't leave until it's +dark. At night they'd get smooth water, because the wind's off the land. +This means we have about forty-eight hours' warning. But slack the jib +sheet a little. Our first job's to get on board by daybreak."</p> + +<p>As they opened up the bay the sea got rougher, but the wind was on the +gig's quarter and they let her go. She rolled on the angry combers and +the boom that stretched the lugsail's foot tossed up. If she fell off +much and the sail lurched across, the shock would capsize her or carry +away the mast. Wyndham, however, held her straight and she drove on, +with curling foam piled about her side. It was a wild run and they were +glad when they got near the land again and found shelter. The sea was +smooth now, and the breeze moderate, although it blew in gusts that +heeled the boat and set the water splashing against her planks. Once or +twice Wyndham made Marston strike a match and look at his watch.</p> + +<p>"We may get in, but we have not much time to spare," he said at length.</p> + +<p>The breeze fell and the boat rose nearly upright. Marston put out an oar +and began to pull, for when he looked east the sky was getting pale. The +gig was sailing, but the splash at the bows was faint and at times the +canvas hung slack. Half an hour afterwards they pulled down the mast and +Wyndham took the other oar.</p> + +<p>"A steady stroke! Don't force the pace. But you have got to row!" he +said.</p> + +<p>The need for speed was plain. The eastern sky was clearing and the mist +began to roll back from the coast. Marston saw a belt of surf and +shadowy rocks and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> woods. Ahead, a light marked the harbor mouth, but it +was some distance off and the gig was a heavy boat for two men to row. +Yet they must reach port before day broke, and, gasping and straining, +they labored on. After his hasty glance about, Marston saw nothing but +Wyndham's back, swinging to and fro in front with a regularity that he +must emulate. He felt the bow lift as he dragged the heavy oar through +the water; then there was a faint gurgle, and his heart beat as he swung +forward again. His hands blistered and the sweat ran into his eyes.</p> + +<p>At length, Wyndham said something hoarsely and a high wall, washed by +languid surf, rose above the boat. They were entering the harbor, but +Marston dared not turn to look ahead. The light was growing and the wall +would guide them to <i>Columbine</i>. He must not miss a stroke, because the +port-guard might be able to see them now. Three or four minutes +afterwards, Wyndham stopped rowing and said, "Easy! Let her go!"</p> + +<p>Marston fell forward with his oar and fought for breath. His heart beat +like a hammer, his arms and legs trembled, and he felt he had not +strength to lift his head. Then the end of his oar struck something and +they were alongside <i>Columbine</i>. Rousing himself with an effort, he +leaned out and seized a rope. Wyndham got up and began to lift the mast.</p> + +<p>"Find the compass and lantern; then help me put the gear on board," he +said.</p> + +<p>When the gig was empty of all but the oars they got over the schooner's +rail and pulled off their wet clothes. In the tropics, white men, as a +rule, do not bathe in cold water, but the galley fire was not lighted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +and Wyndham filled a bucket over the side. The cool brine braced them, +and going to the cabin, they began to take out dry clothes. Wyndham, +however, stopped, as if listening, and Marston heard the splash of oars.</p> + +<p>"Pyjamas, I think," said Wyndham. "Somebody's coming."</p> + +<p>As they put on their pyjamas the oars stopped close by and a man +shouted.</p> + +<p>"One of us will be enough," Wyndham resumed. "Look as sleepy as you +can."</p> + +<p>Marston went up, with his pyjamas half buttoned, and leaned on the rail. +It was daylight, for on the Caribbean dawn comes swiftly at about six +o'clock. A boat carrying two men in the port-guards' uniform floated a +few yards off. Marston thought they were looking at the gig, and he +waited in keen suspense.</p> + +<p>"A note from Señor Larrinaga," said one.</p> + +<p>"Don Ramon gets up early," Marston remarked with a yawn, and when the +man gave him the note added: "Wait a minute."</p> + +<p>Opening the envelope he went to the cabin and said to Wyndham, "We are +asked to breakfast at the mission and see the soldiers parade. I imagine +we're expected to stop the day. Don Ramon is sending horses; they'll be +ready in half an hour."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Wyndham, "I suppose we must go."</p> + +<p>Marston gave the men a bottle of <i>caña</i> and sent them off. Then he went +back and sat down limply.</p> + +<p>"If we had been ten minutes longer, they'd have found us out," he said. +"I don't feel up to riding far, and their asking us to the mission now +is awkward. Still I expect we couldn't sail until it's dark. It's lucky +we got our clearance papers."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_VIII" id="CHAPTER_III_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">AT THE MISSION</span></h2> + + +<p>Half an hour after the boat pulled away, Marston and Wyndham mounted the +horses Larrinaga had sent. The mission was some distance off, but +breakfast would not be served until about eleven o'clock and they rode +slowly up the hill behind the town. Two soldiers followed thirty or +forty yards in the rear, but Marston had found out that they knew no +English. Wyndham was quiet and preoccupied.</p> + +<p>"The horses are the best I've seen, and I suppose Don Ramon's sending an +escort is something of a compliment," Marston said presently. "We are +going to the mission like honored guests; I don't know about our coming +back. Yet we must get back to-night."</p> + +<p>"We calculated the tug would sail with the lighters to-morrow after dark +and we need twenty-four hours' start," Wyndham replied. "It ought to be +enough, if the breeze is strong; landing the troops will be a long job. +However, we must not be late."</p> + +<p>Marston agreed. Larrinaga was using every precaution to keep the +dispatch of the expedition secret, and no doubt hoped to surprise the +Bat. If they were too late, they might be captured with him. If, +however, they brought him warning long enough beforehand, he might make +a stubborn defense, and this would involve them in fresh entanglements.</p> + +<p>"I'd feel happier if I knew the President's plans for to-day," Marston +resumed.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span>"So would I," said Wyndham, smiling. "I imagine they will, to some +extent, depend on the line we take. On the whole, his object for sending +for us is plain; he wants to keep us away from the port as long as +possible."</p> + +<p>"If he thought we were spying for the Bat, he might lock us up."</p> + +<p>"I think not. He would then have to inform the consul and state the +grounds for our arrest. All the same, if he's not satisfied, he may tax +us with cheating the customs or something of the kind and keep us until +the tug has sailed. In the meantime, perhaps it's lucky we are not about +the port, because I think Peters won't offer his help to the Government +until he has seen us. If Larrinaga knew what Peters knows, we wouldn't +reach the lagoon."</p> + +<p>"I expect that is so," said Marston gloomily. "Well, it will be a big +relief when all this intrigue is done with and we leave the coast for +good."</p> + +<p>For the most part they were silent until they reached the mission. The +building was old and falling to ruin, but it had a touch of stateliness, +for its foundations were laid when the Spanish conquerors were +influenced by the austere beauty of Moorish art. The front was pierced +by Saracenic arches that led to a cloistered walk on one side of the +patio, from which an outside stair went up to the officers' rooms. The +rest of the building was plainer and was now used for a barracks. Palms +grew round the square in front and in the background dusky forest rolled +back to the mountains that cut the sky. Two or three companies of +<i>cazadores</i> were drawn up in the square.</p> + +<p>The President and Larrinaga received their guests at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> the central arch, +where chairs had been put in the shade. There was another gentleman, +whom Wyndham imagined belonged to the President's cabinet, and he +thought the minister quietly studied him and Marston. It was possible +Señor Villar had joined the party with this object. If so, it looked as +if the others had not yet decided if they were dangerous or not.</p> + +<p>"Now you have arrived, we will go on with the drill," the President +remarked. "Afterwards, Señor Marston will tell us what he thinks about +my soldiers."</p> + +<p>"My opinion is not worth much; I am a sailor," Marston replied with some +awkwardness, because he thought the President was amused.</p> + +<p>"You are modest," the latter rejoined. "Well, we cannot ask what you +think about our fleet. Our gunboat, the <i>Campeador</i>, has stranded, and +this only leaves us the tug."</p> + +<p>"I have seen the tug," said Marston, and stopping for a moment, went on: +"A very fine boat! She looks powerful and ought to steam fast."</p> + +<p>Wyndham wondered whether the others had noted Marston's pause. It was +not long and perhaps his frank admission would satisfy them.</p> + +<p>"Let us try to turn kilometers into what you call knots," said the +President. "It is a complicated sum; you must help me, Don Ramon."</p> + +<p>"About twelve knots," Wyndham interposed when they began the +calculation. "However, you must not indulge my comrade by letting him +talk about ships. We came to see the soldiers."</p> + +<p>The President signed to an officer, who shouted, and the <i>cazadores</i> +wheeled and formed on a new front. The bands and muzzles of their rifles +sparkled in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> searching light and dust rolled about them as they +moved. They were little, wiry men, and although they did not drill +remarkably well and their white uniforms were not clean, Wyndham noted +that their rifles were good. Moreover, their equipment was up to date +and new.</p> + +<p>The officer, shouting savagely, kept the men moving about, and when at +length he dismissed them came back, hot and sprinkled by dust, with a +look of disgust. Wyndham, allowing something for the German character, +thought the disgust was rather marked.</p> + +<p>"Then you are not satisfied yet?" the President asked.</p> + +<p>"They are your Excellency's subjects," the other replied with a shrug. +"I do my best, but we do not make much progress. Perhaps, with extra +drill for two or three months——"</p> + +<p>The President laughed. "One must use patience, and in this country one +goes slowly. Besides, I do not know if speed is needed." He turned to +Wyndham. "Now we will leave you to Don Arnoldo for a few minutes. I +promised Señor Villar I would examine the quartermaster's books. There +are people who grumble about our military extravagance."</p> + +<p>He went off with the others and the officer sat down. Wyndham imagined +him a soldier of fortune whose main object was to earn his pay. For all +that, it looked as if he had been given a part in the plot and had +played up well.</p> + +<p>"I expect you find drilling these fellows a tiresome job," Marston said +in English.</p> + +<p>"It is so," the other agreed. "The President is too ambitious; I think +he wastes his money. His people<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> have no military feeling; they are +stupid individualists and one cannot give them mass-consciousness. One +might make them brigands, but not soldiers. Yet I think they would +fight, and after all, the best school for soldiers is war."</p> + +<p>"You don't want a war for the sake of drilling your men!" Marston +exclaimed, and the officer laughed.</p> + +<p>"In my country, we are no longer sentimentalists and I do not pretend to +be humanitarian. In the meantime, there is no war, and I am satisfied to +draw my pay. Playing with soldiers is expensive, and some of the people +grumble, but so far the pay is regular. When it stops I give up my +post."</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards, the President came back and breakfast was served behind +the pillars. For a time he talked to Marston about the soldiers and then +remarked: "I understand you do not stop long."</p> + +<p>"Our business is nearly finished and we expect to sail very soon," +Wyndham replied. "Now our visit to the coast is over, I feel there is +much for which we must thank you and Don Ramon."</p> + +<p>"We hope your visit has been prosperous enough to bring you back," +Villar interposed. "You paid us some duties. All foreigners are not so +honest."</p> + +<p>"I expect foreigners are something of a nuisance. It is strange, but +when one goes abroad one feels justified in breaking rules."</p> + +<p>Villar smiled. "This is illogical. Have you broken our rules?"</p> + +<p>"Not many; my partner is scrupulous, and if I have given way to +temptation, it was not from greediness."</p> + +<p>"Then what persuaded you?"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span>"Perhaps it was British impatience with other people's regulations. In a +way, we are rather an arrogant lot, and it flatters our self-importance +to know that if we do get into trouble our Consuls will probably save us +from the punishment we deserve. You cannot lock up a drunken British +sailor without inquiries being made. Don Arnoldo's people are proud of +their army, but our fleet is ubiquitous."</p> + +<p>"Señor Wyndham is frank, although I doubt if he is just to himself," the +President remarked with a twinkle. "I will confess it is sometimes hard +to bear with foreigners philosophically, but we make the effort. My +country is poor and we need the trade and money they bring. If we do not +always love them, we make allowances." He paused and gave Wyndham a +thoughtful glance. "There is, however, one thing about which we are +firm; no stranger must meddle with our politics. It is our Monroe +doctrine and is sternly enforced."</p> + +<p>"A good rule," Wyndham agreed. "After all, your people do not need much +help from strangers; they have some talent for political intrigue. How +many antagonistic parties have you just now?"</p> + +<p>"Six," said the President dryly. "They hate each other, but to gain an +advantage all will combine against my Government. Moreover, in this +country, the vote is not the only way of marking one's disapproval. But +we will let this go. You will stop with us to-night and Don Ramon will +give you some shooting when the evening gets cool."</p> + +<p>Wyndham thought quickly. He had expected something like this and it was +obvious that much depended on his reply.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span>"We ought to go back," he said, with pretended hesitation. "You see, we +want to sail as soon as the wind is fair and must get water and stores +on board. It might, however, help if you would let us leave port at +night. The land-breeze would carry us some distance off the coast before +it dropped when the sun got up."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Larrinaga. "I will send the port-captain orders, and +if you tell him when you want to sail he will let you go."</p> + +<p>Wyndham allowed himself to be persuaded, and soon afterwards the +President went off and Larrinaga took them to a shady room. He said +dinner would be served at four o'clock and then they would go to a lake +and shoot. When he left them Marston looked at Wyndham.</p> + +<p>"Why did you agree to stop?"</p> + +<p>"I did not think there was much use in refusing. Their urging us to stop +was an experiment. If I had insisted on going, they'd have known why."</p> + +<p>"Then, d'you imagine they'd keep us by force?" asked Marston.</p> + +<p>"It's possible. I studied the President when I made my boast about our +British citizenship. He stated they would allow no meddling with their +politics, and he meant this. Anyhow, if I'd shown him his suspicions +were well-grounded, he would have found a plausible excuse for keeping +<i>Columbine</i> in port."</p> + +<p>"All the same, we have got to get away," said Marston in a resolute +voice.</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded. "That's plain. Well, if we go to bed soon after shooting +and are lucky, they won't miss us until somebody brings our early +breakfast. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> don't know if we can get the horses. Now I'm going to +sleep."</p> + +<p>He got into a hammock and Marston lay down in a long chair. They had +been strenuously occupied all night and did not expect much rest the +next. Nobody would bother them until dinner, and although they were +disturbed and anxious they went to sleep.</p> + +<p>After dinner Larrinaga took them to a lake, where they shot some ducks. +The President was occupied when they returned at dark, and for a time +they sat on the arcade, playing cards. The cards were Spanish and +Marston could not remember their value and the rules of the game. +Mosquitoes hovered about them, the night was gloomy and very hot. +Something in the still air made one strangely languid. Moreover, he was +tired and anxious, and he did not feel much relief when Villar put the +cards away and they began to talk.</p> + +<p>Marston suspected the others' remarks were not as careless as they +looked and might lead him to some awkward statements. It was like +fencing with a clever antagonist when all one could do was to stand +clumsily on guard. For the most part, he left the talk to Wyndham, and +although Harry played up well, Marston thought the effort was difficult. +He wondered whether their companions saw this. There was one comfort; in +the tropics, people got up early and he imagined their hosts would not +sit very long.</p> + +<p>At length Larrinaga pushed back his chair. "Time goes and my duties +begin at sunrise. Then I think you would like to make an early start?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham said they must get off as soon as possible, and Larrinaga +nodded.</p> + +<p>"Don Arnoldo will give the necessary orders about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> the horses. They +belong to the soldiers and nobody else is allowed about the stable. I +believe he posts a guard at night. The Germans are like that, and the +mission is now under military rule. It has drawbacks, but the army is +the President's hobby and we submit."</p> + +<p>The officer laughed and said the horses would be ready soon after +daybreak, and when the others went off Marston and Wyndham climbed the +outside stairs to their room.</p> + +<p>"Looks as if they meant to keep us. Don Ramon's hint was plain," Marston +observed.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky white men don't walk much in this country," Wyndham replied. +"A <i>pasear</i> round the plaza while the band plays is about all the +exercise people take, and I don't imagine anybody above the rank of a +<i>peon</i> has ever walked from the mission to the port. In fact, it's very +possible Don Ramon hasn't calculated that we might set off on foot." He +paused and went to the window. "The night's dark but very calm. A noise +would carry; we must wait for some time."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_IX" id="CHAPTER_III_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br /> +<span class="smalltext"><i>COLUMBINE</i> STEALS AWAY</span></h2> + + +<p>All was quiet at the mission but for the soft rustle of the palms when a +puff of wind came down the hill. The last light had gone out behind the +narrow windows across the patio, and Wyndham, looking at his watch, got +up.</p> + +<p>"We must chance it now," he said. "If all goes well, we ought to reach +the port two or three hours before dawn and our hosts won't miss us +until the major-domo sends our breakfast."</p> + +<p>Marston pulled himself together. The port was a long way off and since +he had left England he had not walked much, but it was obvious that he +must make good speed to-night. Opening the door quietly, they stole +downstairs, carrying their boots, and stopped for a few moments in the +gloom of an arch. It was very dark; the palms across the square hardly +showed against the sky. There was a sentry on the terrace, but they +could not see him and waited until they heard his measured steps.</p> + +<p>When the sentry passed the arch, they crept out and started across the +square. Small stones hurt their feet, but they went on as fast as +possible, until they heard a soft rattle of leather and jingle of steel. +The sentry had wheeled round at the end of his beat and was coming back, +and they lay down on the sand and waited until the steps receded. They +must reach the gloom of the trees before he turned again, and they +pushed on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> listening hard. Marston's heart beat and his hands trembled +as he clutched his boots. The measured steps stopped for a moment and +then began to get louder, but Bob drew a deep breath when he +distinguished the long branches of the palms overhead. Nobody could see +him now.</p> + +<p>A few minutes afterwards they set off down hill at the fastest pace they +could make. The road was rough, one could not see the holes, and Marston +was soon wet with perspiration. He had got soft in the tropics and his +legs began to ache, but he thought he was going nearly five miles an +hour. Since time was valuable, he must try to keep it up. He had no +breath to talk and Wyndham said nothing; with clenched hands and eyes +fixed straight in front they labored on. Half-seen palms went by, but in +places the gloom was impenetrable, and now and then they fell into a +hole.</p> + +<p>By-and-by Marston's boot began to gall his foot. The smart got worse and +sometimes he limped. When he did so, he dropped behind Wyndham, and +setting his mouth tight he trod squarely. One could not walk fast on the +side of one's foot; he must push on and bear the pain. It was ridiculous +that he should lose time because his boot scraped his toe. Yet long +afterwards he remembered the effort to keep up his speed.</p> + +<p>When the first white houses of the town came out of the gloom his +clothes were sticking to his skin and his wet hair was flat on his head. +He stopped and sat down in a dusty gutter.</p> + +<p>"I've got to take off my boots. There's a pavement of sorts," he gasped.</p> + +<p>Wyndham nodded and looked about. The houses were indistinct and the sky +was dark. He could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> see his watch, but he calculated it was about +four o'clock and day would not break for two hours yet. Puffs of wind +touched his wet face and he heard it in the trees behind the town. They +were in time, but had none to waste.</p> + +<p>"Be quick!" he said. "We're a mile from the harbor."</p> + +<p>Marston got up and they set off. Straight and nearly blank walls now +shut them in, for the houses got light from the patios. Wyndham's steps +echoed in the dark, but except for this all was quiet. It looked as if +nobody were about. A strange smell hung about the houses, for the street +was narrow and the land-breeze did not sweep it clean.</p> + +<p>By-and-by they crossed a square and kept back from a lamp at the end of +another street. To meet one of the armed police would be awkward, for +although the fellow's curiosity might be appeased by a bribe, to +persuade him would occupy some time. They met nobody, but after some +minutes Wyndham thought it prudent to cross the <i>alameda</i>, where shady +paths wound among tall trees. The gloom would hide them and from one end +a dark street ran down to the harbor. Marston agreed and set his lips as +he struggled on, for the walks were covered by sharp, fresh gravel. +Stealing along the dark street, they reached the mole and stopped for a +moment. So far as they could see, the tug had not arrived, and although +they distinguished <i>Columbine</i>'s masts against the sky, she was moored +to a buoy some distance from the wall. Wyndham had warned the crew to +keep a watch, but there was a risk in hailing them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span>"One of the port-guards is generally about this side of the harbor," he +said.</p> + +<p>They listened, but only heard the sea splash against the wall and the +wind in a neighboring vessel's rigging. The land-breeze was fresh and +blew down the harbor. If they could get on board, it would not be long +before <i>Columbine</i> was at sea.</p> + +<p>"We might swim," Marston suggested.</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Wyndham. "There's a nasty, splashing ripple that +would break in our faces; besides, the gig would be quicker. We must +chance a hail."</p> + +<p>He shouted and Marston clenched his fist when no answer came. It was +unthinkable that they should be stopped by the negligence of a sleepy +look-out. Before long the port-guard would walk up the mole, and if they +were not gone, would take them to the captain's office. One must get +leave to go on board, because the port was closed at night.</p> + +<p>They waited for two or three minutes, since Wyndham dared not shout +again, and then a soft rattle came out of the dark. Marston started and +thrilled.</p> + +<p>"I believe that's somebody jumping into the gig," he said.</p> + +<p>"It is," said Wyndham softly, and after a few moments added: "She's +coming."</p> + +<p>They could not see the boat and she made very little noise. There was no +splash; it looked as if somebody sculled her cautiously. By and by a +dark object glided out of the gloom beside the wall and they went to the +steps.</p> + +<p>"Go back softly, softly," Wyndham said to the indistinct figure in the +stern as they got on board.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>In a few minutes they reached the schooner and Marston's spirits rose. +He had done with tracks and plots; now his job was straightforward. +Moreover, he knew it well.</p> + +<p>"I'll cast off the bow mooring," he said when Wyndham got on board. +"Give me a line and you can haul the chain up quietly. It mustn't run +through the pipe."</p> + +<p>Shoving the gig forward, he jumped out on the buoy; then he unscrewed +the shackle and, fastening on the line he brought, waved his hand. The +chain slipped gently into the water and did not make much noise when the +men on board pulled it up. <i>Columbine</i> was free now and had begun to +drift when Marston seized her rail. He made the gig's painter fast and +left her alongside, because the blocks on the Burton tackle would +clatter if they tried to hoist her in. It was something to feel the +schooner's deck under his galled feet, but there was much to be done +before he could indulge his relief. Although they could not see the tug, +she might have reached the port, and they must pass the three-mile limit +before they would be safe. In the meantime, <i>Columbine</i> was drifting +slowly down the harbor.</p> + +<p>"We must chance hoisting the staysail," Wyndham remarked. "Get it up +handsomely; stop if the chain clinks much."</p> + +<p>The staysail had chain halyards and Marston sent a man aloft with a +grease-swab. For all that, the halyard made some noise and the sail +thrashed in the fresh breeze, until they hauled the sheets and Wyndham +got her round. <i>Columbine</i>, with a small triangle of canvas set, stole +down the harbor, and if the port-guards did not keep a keen look out, +she might get away.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>Marston, sitting on the bowsprit loosing the jib, watched the shadowy +wall move back. They were passing the Cuban barque and she was not far +from the end of the mole. <i>Columbine</i> moved faster; he heard the water +ripple at her bows, and the beam of the lighthouse ahead got near. It +was a sector light, screened on one bearing, and they could keep outside +its illumination.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes they would clear the end of the mole, and when the jib +was loose Marston looked aft. Shadowy figures moved about the deck, +getting the canvas ready to hoist. Not long since, he had doubted if +they could steal out of the harbor. When one studied the plan coolly, it +looked ridiculous, but they had tried and he began to hope they would +succeed. Then he turned his head and thrilled as he saw the end of the +mole slip by.</p> + +<p>"Hoist the outer jib," said Wyndham when Marston joined him. "We must be +cautious. The captain's launch has steam up and could catch us yet."</p> + +<p>They got to work. The blocks rattled as the jib went up, but the wind +blew the noise away. The splash at the bows was louder, and Wyndham +waited, measuring the distance from the receding mole.</p> + +<p>"Boom-foresail," he said sharply.</p> + +<p>The tall dark canvas rose and swelled. <i>Columbine</i> began to list and +trailed a white line astern. The mole faded and the light looked farther +off.</p> + +<p>"Mainsail next," said Wyndham. "Hoist handsomely."</p> + +<p>The winch by the mast began to clink; the big sail shook and thudded +while its slack folds blew out, and the Kroos started a wild paddling +song. The tension<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> was over; they were running out to sea and nobody +could hear them now. The song, however, soon got breathless; it was hard +to drag up the heavy canvas while she was before the wind and Wyndham +would not round her to. He braced himself against the wheel and steered +off-shore for the three-mile limit.</p> + +<p>They set the sail, and got more wind as they left the land. She rolled +and foam ran level with her dipping rail. The long main boom lurched up +and groaned; one heard the masts creak and the rigging hum. Her wake ran +back into the dark like a white cataract.</p> + +<p>"Hoist gaff-topsail," said Wyndham. "Trim the squaresail-yard."</p> + +<p>Marston gave him a quick glance and then got to work. He doubted if the +gear would stand the strain, but Harry knew the boat. Although the +Krooboys looked surprised, it was obvious that they trusted him. It cost +them a struggle to cover her with sail, and she drove along almost too +fast to roll. A white wave stood up above her waist, another curled +astern, and the hollow squaresail swelled like a balloon. Although the +sea was smooth, water foamed on board and spray swept the deck in savage +showers. The men crouched behind the bulwarks and when Marston went aft +he got an exhilarating sense of speed.</p> + +<p>"Do you want help?" he asked. "Can you hold her?"</p> + +<p>"I think I can," said Wyndham, with an exultant note in his voice. "We +have sailed some hard races, Bob, but none for a stake like this. If the +masts will stand, she must go to-night!"</p> + +<p>Marston nodded. "Looks as if we ought to win! I imagine the tug is not +in harbor and Don Ramon is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> comfortably persuaded we're asleep at the +mission. When he finds we're not, we'll be a long way off. I don't +suppose they can march the troops to the port and embark them before +it's dark." He paused and laughed when he resumed: "His promise to send +the port-captain orders to let us go if we told him when we wanted to +sail was clever. He knew, of course, we couldn't do so."</p> + +<p>He sat down on a coil of rope and lighted his pipe. Now the long strain +was over, a reaction had begun. His head was heavy; he felt very tired +and limp. Showers of spray blew about and when he began to get wet he +thought he would go to the cabin and study the chart. It was plain that +they could not leave the schooner at the lagoon; besides a little mental +exercise might rouse him.</p> + +<p>When he lighted the lamp he found he could not see the small figures on +the chart. His eyes and brain were dull, for two nights and a day of +effort and suspense had worn him out. The coast-line, however, was +clearly marked and indicated a number of bays and inlets. So far as +Marston could remember, they were bordered by mangrove swamps with dark +forest behind. Looking up at the compass, which was fixed in the +skylight and allowed the glow of the binnacle lamp to shine through, he +tried to calculate where Wyndham was steering. He could not fix the +course within two or three points and presently gave it up. Then his +head dropped forward, the chart fell on the floor, and sinking down on +the locker cushion, he fell asleep.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_X" id="CHAPTER_III_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE BAT OWNS DEFEAT</span></h2> + + +<p>At daybreak Wyndham entered the cabin and wakened Marston. The latter +yawned, stretched his arms, and glanced at the compass.</p> + +<p>"It's getting light. I expect I've been asleep," he said. "Where are we +heading?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham picked up the chart and indicated a spot. "This bay. She has +made a good run, although the wind has nearly gone."</p> + +<p>"You know where to find the Bat, I think?"</p> + +<p>"I have a notion," Wyndham replied, indicating another spot some +distance from the coast. "But come up on deck. The sun will soon rise +and I must try to get our bearings."</p> + +<p>Marston went up. The wind had dropped and was now very faint. +<i>Columbine</i>, carrying all the sail they could set, scarcely crept across +the smoothly heaving sea. Ahead, a bank of mist hid the low coast; +farther back, vague mountain tops rose against the pale sky. In places, +rippling streaks lined the gray water. The picture had a strangely flat +and lifeless touch that reacted on Marston. He felt dull, and shivered, +although it was not cold. Turning to the galley, he saw a plume of smoke +trail from the bent funnel.</p> + +<p>"I'll get some coffee and then we'll talk," he said.</p> + +<p>Coming back in a few minutes with a jug, he sat down on the +stern-gratings.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>"To begin with, can you hide the boat?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Not properly. There are one or two creeks, but they'd, so to speak, +invite examination. On the whole, I'd sooner trust an open beach. +<i>Columbine</i>'s low hull and masts won't be very distinct against a +background of forest. I'm steering for an anchorage behind some shoals."</p> + +<p>Marston signed agreement. "Larrinaga can't keep the tug searching the +coast; he'll send her back for supplies. I expect he knows how to reach +the Bat."</p> + +<p>"It's possible. He has spies and the German Colonel has, no doubt, made +careful plans. There are two routes; east and west of the high ground, +and I reckon he'll send the <i>cazadores</i> up in two columns. The first +will probably try to get behind the Bat's position."</p> + +<p>"Then, we'll strike one column's line of march," said Marston, +thoughtfully. "In fact, since we must come back, we'll strike it twice."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I see some advantage in this. Our taking their path won't matter +when we go up, because we'll be in front, and we agreed that the time of +our arrival is important. We must give the Bat just long enough to reach +the coast before the soldiers turn back and cut us off. I expect it will +mean our pushing across the hills for some distance. When we cross their +line we'll be in front again."</p> + +<p>Marston signified his agreement by a nod. It was plain that they must +leave much to luck, and lighting his pipe, he leaned against the rail. +As the sun rose the mist ahead began to melt. Wooded heights rose out of +the streaming vapor and presently Wyndham found the marks he wanted and +went off to sleep while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> Marston kept his anxious watch. It was now +nearly calm. Sometimes a puff of wind ruffled the water; sometimes the +sails hung slack and the ripple at the bows died away. The sun got hot, +the smooth swell shimmered with reflected light, and nothing indicated +when the sea-breeze would begin.</p> + +<p>The calm, however, would not stop the tug, and Marston pictured her +steaming up from San Cristobal with engines thumping hard and the empty +lighters astern. News of <i>Columbine</i>'s departure had, no doubt, reached +the mission; bugles would be calling and the <i>cazadores</i> strapping on +their equipment ready to start. Still it was a long march to the harbor +and Marston hardly thought the troops would embark before nightfall. If +wind would come, Wyndham might keep in front of them, but in the +meantime <i>Columbine</i> hardly moved. Marston wondered whether they ought +to hoist out the gig and tow, although the labor would be exhausting and +they could not make much progress.</p> + +<p>A dark streak broke the glittering surface, a cool draught touched +Marston's face, and the slack sails swelled. <i>Columbine</i> began to move, +and presently gathering speed, listed over to the fresh sea-breeze.</p> + +<p>After an hour or two, he wakened Wyndham, who got another bearing and +changed the course. At dusk they steered for the coast and towards +morning anchored behind a shoal. There was nothing but the background to +hide the vessel and Marston knew the risk when they landed with four of +the crew. In the steamy heat of the forest, exertion soon wears a white +man out, and the negroes were needed to carry food and some shelter from +the dew at night.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span>After dark on the second evening, they reached the Bat's headquarters, +in the company of a gang of savage negroes. They were exhausted by the +journey, their clothes were torn, and they did not know if the negroes +were their captors or their guides. So far as one could see, the village +looked mean. A few small mud huts stood among mahogany trees and big +cottonwoods. There was no light in the huts, but a fire burned outside +one, and although the night was warm, indistinct figures crouched about +the blaze. They vanished and appeared again when the light leaped up, +and Marston remembered the factory boys squatting round the fires in +Africa. But the Kroo laborers sang, and these fellows were strangely +silent. In fact, a daunting quietness brooded over the spot.</p> + +<p>The Bat's hut was larger than the rest and a rude veranda occupied the +front. There was no furniture except some mats and stools, and a +badly-cleaned paraffin lamp gave a dim light. The Bat sat on a carved +stool and wore a striped tennis jacket over his dirty white clothes. His +legs and feet were bare; his lips stuck out and his nostrils were wide, +and Marston felt that to fear and shrink from him was ridiculous. Yet he +did shrink. Then he noted with some surprise that Father Sebastian +occupied a mat in the corner. Next moment the Bat looked up with a +mocking grin.</p> + +<p>"Why you lib for my village? It d—— poor place," he said.</p> + +<p>"We'll explain that later," Wyndham replied. "In the meantime, why is +Father Sebastian here?"</p> + +<p>"I take care of him," said the Bat. "Fool black man rob his church." He +paused and added with a cruel smile: "Them fool man pay."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span>Wyndham turned to the priest. "Will you give us a few minutes, <i>padre</i>? +We will send for you soon."</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian got up and the Bat nodded, as if he gave him leave to +go. He went out and Wyndham sat down on a mat.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said, "suppose you drop this negro mummery and talk like an +Englishman. I want to remember you are Rupert Wyndham. No doubt you +meant to keep the missionary for a hostage, but it's not important. I +imagine you did not expect to see us?"</p> + +<p>Rupert's face changed. Something of its coarseness vanished, his lips +straightened, and he looked less like a mulatto.</p> + +<p>"I did expect you. Anyhow, I heard white men were coming, although I +could only account for one," he said and added with an ominous smile: "I +sent to meet you because I did not want you to lose your way."</p> + +<p>Marston knew that in Africa the negroes can signal news across the bush +with remarkable speed. It looked as if Rupert had learned how this was +done and taught his people.</p> + +<p>"Whom did you expect?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Peters. He is a fool, but he has pluck. Some pluck is needed when one +tries to blackmail me!"</p> + +<p>"I imagine Peters will come later, but not to bargain with you," Marston +said dryly. "We have some grounds for believing he means to sell you to +the Government."</p> + +<p>Rupert's glance got very keen. "Ah," he said, "this is interesting! +Perhaps it explains your visit, which rather puzzled me."</p> + +<p>"Before long you will get some fresh news," Wynd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span>ham interposed. +"Larrinaga and the German colonel, with two or three companies of +<i>cazadores</i>, have landed and are marching for your village."</p> + +<p>For a few moments Rupert did not move and his face was inscrutable. Then +he looked up and the red veins in his eyes were very plain.</p> + +<p>"Is this true? You will find it dangerous to cheat me!"</p> + +<p>Wyndham told him what they had found out and stated the conclusions they +had drawn. When he stopped Rupert nodded.</p> + +<p>"It looks plausible; you are cleverer than my spies, but we will wait. +If the soldiers have landed, I will soon know."</p> + +<p>"You may wait too long!"</p> + +<p>"If there's a risk, you share it," said Rupert meaningly. "You were rash +when you came to see me without being asked. However, the entrance of +the lagoon is shallow and the surf is often bad. Can Larrinaga find the +channel?"</p> + +<p>"Pepe, the pilot, is with him. I expect he'll steer the tug."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Rupert. "I rather trusted Pepe, but he has been bribed. Well, +it is possible he will get his reward. However, I imagine you have made +some plans for me."</p> + +<p>Wyndham braced himself. Although luck had given him strong arguments, +Rupert was bold and cunning. Since his situation looked desperate, he +might try some desperate remedy that would ruin them all. He must be +persuaded to use the obvious way of escape.</p> + +<p>"You can't fight; it's too late," he said. "If you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> start now and we +push across the hills between the two columns, we may cross one +detachment's line after they have passed. When they find out you have +gone, we will have got a start and ought to travel faster than loaded +soldiers. The schooner is ready and would sail in a few minutes after we +got on board. I don't see another plan, and if you're caught Larrinaga +will shoot you. His men are well equipped and drilled. He has been +getting ready for some time."</p> + +<p>Rupert pondered for a minute or two, and the others waited anxiously. +Then he said, "If I go, I leave people who trusted me in Larrinaga's +power. It is not a very heroic exit."</p> + +<p>"Does this count for much?"</p> + +<p>"On the whole, it does not," said Rupert coolly. "After all, my +followers can take care of themselves. They are an elusive lot and Don +Ramon would soon wear out his troops hunting them in the bush. All the +same, to slink away is something of an anti-climax."</p> + +<p>"We didn't run a big risk in order to help you save your dignity," +Wyndham rejoined, and Rupert gave him a mocking smile.</p> + +<p>"Your object's plain and I owe you nothing. You hope to mend the +family's fortunes, and see an awkward chance of its getting known that a +leader of negro rebels is your relation. However, what do you reckon to +do with me if I go? You proposed, another time, that I should return to +England."</p> + +<p>"We don't propose it now. We'll land you at an American port and I will +try to pay you a small allowance so long as you stay in the United +States. The South might suit you and one could trust the Americans to +see you didn't make trouble there."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span>"For guests, you take a bold line. It's rather strange you imagine I'm +forced to agree. You don't seem to understand that there's not much to +prevent my leaving you here and going off with your yacht."</p> + +<p>"We thought about this," Wyndham replied. "If we don't return by a +stipulated time, <i>Columbine</i> will sail and carry a statement I left with +the mate to the British officers at Kingston, Jamaica. The cable is +ready for slipping, the sails are loose, and if strangers try to board +her, the boat will go to sea."</p> + +<p>"One must approve your caution," said Rupert dryly. "Well, I think my +plans were good, and but for two things they might have been carried +out. Our robbing Father Sebastian's church forced Larrinaga to move, but +I was not responsible for this. The other's more important and the +mistake was mine." He turned to Marston as he went on: "When you were +ill with fever I ought to have poisoned you. Instead I tried a cure +civilized doctors would hesitate to use."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Marston, "you saved my life?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want thanks. To some extent, I thought it policy. It did not +seem worth while to bother about your antagonism then. Afterwards, when +we tried to drown you, we were too late. You had persuaded your partner; +your work was done. If you had not meddled, I'd have led him where I +wanted."</p> + +<p>"I think that is so, Bob. I owe you much," Wyndham interposed.</p> + +<p>"If Harry had brought me the supplies I needed, I could have fought the +President's troops," Rupert resumed, fixing his bloodshot eyes on +Marston. "Well, you spoiled the plot, and if I'm beaten now, it is not +Larrinaga but you who wins. You ought to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> flattered. For such a man +as you are, it's a remarkable victory!"</p> + +<p>There was something sinister in his sneering voice and Wyndham said +sharply, "It will be prudent for you to see Bob does not fall ill again. +If I meet with any misfortune, he will make you accountable."</p> + +<p>Rupert shrugged. "We will let it go and wait until news about the +soldiers arrives. In the meantime, I have some preparations to make. You +can sleep until I come back. Nobody will disturb you."</p> + +<p>"I have a pistol, but don't expect to use it," Wyndham replied. "Your +need of our help is our best protection, and so long as the need is +obvious I think we are pretty safe."</p> + +<p>When Rupert went out they lay down on the mats. Although they were near +physical exhaustion, it was impossible to sleep. The tension they had +borne had not relaxed, because until the news of the soldiers' advance +was signalled the situation was not free from danger. The tug might +strand among the shoals, a strong breeze and breaking surf might stop +her entering the lagoon to land the troops, and delay would give Rupert +time to form fresh plans. Marston did not trust him yet. If Rupert could +escape without their help, he would not leave them at liberty to meddle +again.</p> + +<p>They heard nothing from outside and the hut was very quiet. The silence +began to wear Marston's nerve. He could not wait much longer, but it +might be rash to go out, and he forced himself to smoke, although the +tobacco burned his tongue and his mouth was parched. It looked as if +Rupert were not coming back. Perhaps he had cheated them and gone off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +alone. Marston pictured his malicious grin as he stole off through the +bush and left them to wait for Larrinaga.</p> + +<p>At length, however, Rupert returned to the hut. "I have got news," he +said coolly. "Your boys are ready and we will start. Father Sebastian is +an embarrassment; you will see that we cannot leave him behind."</p> + +<p>"Send for him," said Wyndham. "You had better understand that I'm +accountable for his safety."</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian came in, and Wyndham asked if he would promise to say +nothing about their visit and departure with the Bat.</p> + +<p>"No," said Father Sebastian, "I will not promise. I do not know what is +happening, but it looks as if the punishment this man deserves were +overtaking him. I will not help him to escape."</p> + +<p>"You are in his power yet," Wyndham remarked.</p> + +<p>Father Sebastian smiled. "I am an old man and my work in the dreary +swamps is hard. My life is not worth much; there are things I value +more."</p> + +<p>"I was wrong," said Wyndham quietly. "However, since you refuse, we must +take you with us as far as the coast. It would help if you promised not +to run away."</p> + +<p>"I will run away, if it is possible. This man is bad and cruel; I think +he killed your agent, and now he is stealing off, the soldiers must be +coming. I will warn them if I can."</p> + +<p>"After all, is this your business? You are a missionary," Wyndham urged.</p> + +<p>"I am the Church's servant and a citizen of the country the Bat defies. +Perhaps its rule is corrupt,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> but it is better than his. Its citizens +are Christians and follow the light, although their steps are sometimes +weak; these others would plunge the land in the dark of superstitious +horror. I know, I have long watched the shadow deepen."</p> + +<p>"You are a loyal servant," Wyndham replied. "I am afraid you must come +with us, but we will try to make your journey easy."</p> + +<p>"White man fool man! Black man fix them thing different," Rupert +remarked with his cruel grin. Then he indicated Marston and added in +good English: "This fellow is certainly a fool, but his boyish scruples +have beaten my cleverest schemes."</p> + +<p>He signed them to go out. The Krooboys from the schooner were waiting, +and in a few minutes the party plunged into the woods.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_XI" id="CHAPTER_III_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE BAT'S EXIT</span></h2> + + +<p><i>Columbine</i> rolled heavily on the broken swell and the lamp that swung +from a beam threw a puzzling light about the cabin. Now and then water +splashed on the deck and the slack sails flapped. The fresh breeze had +dropped, although the sea had not yet gone down, and Marston had set the +topsail and the balloon jib. The light canvas would chafe and was not of +much use, but he must reach Kingston as soon as possible. He was +exhausted by physical effort and anxious watching, and when Rupert +replaced the bandage on his comrade's face he leaned back slackly on the +locker seat.</p> + +<p>Wyndham lay in an upper berth, in the faint draught that came down +through the open skylight. A wet cloth covered his face and the cabin +smelt of drugs. He did not move and had not been altogether conscious +for some time. Rupert wore Harry's white clothes and looked, in the +unsteady light, like a rather haggard and jaundiced Englishman. Marston +had noted his firm touch when he fixed the bandage and now he was +methodically putting back some bottles in the medicine chest. When he +finished he bent over the berth for a moment, as if he listened to +Wyndham's breathing.</p> + +<p>"I think he will live," he said. "Although he is very weak, we have got +the fever down, and the wound<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> is not as septic as it was. Anyhow, you +must get him into hospital at Kingston soon."</p> + +<p>Marston remembered afterwards that Rupert had said <i>you</i>, not we, and +thought it significant. Now, however, he was dully pondering something +else.</p> + +<p>"If you had not been on board, Harry would not have lived," he said.</p> + +<p>"You're puzzled about my saving him?" Rupert rejoined. "Well, I don't +owe Harry much and I owe you less. On the whole, I hardly think our +relationship accounts for my efforts. A bold experiment is interesting +when somebody else is the subject, and one rather enjoys using one's +skill."</p> + +<p>Since there were only one or two very simple surgical instruments in the +medicine chest, Marston thought Rupert's skill was remarkable. He had +envied him his firm hand and nerve when he cut out the bullet that had +pierced Harry's cheek and jaw and lodged in his neck. As he remembered +the operation, in which he had been forced to help, Marston shuddered. +After a few moments Rupert looked up.</p> + +<p>"You need fresh air. Go and see how she steers. Harry will sleep, but if +it's necessary I will watch."</p> + +<p>Marston went on deck. It was a little cooler and the touch of the dew on +his face was soothing. He put on an oilskin and sat down by the wheel. +The night was clear and the tops of the broken swell shone with +phosphorescence. <i>Columbine</i> rolled about, shaking her masts and booms +with savage jerks. Blocks rattled and now and then the canvas banged. +Yet she forged ahead and kept her course.</p> + +<p>By-and-by Marston lighted his pipe and tried to fix the elusive pictures +of their journey to the coast. To<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> begin with, the night they left the +hut Wyndham owned he had a dose of fever. In the morning he was worse, +but time was valuable and they pushed on. Then, at evening when they +came down from the hills to cut the soldiers' line of march, they saw +two or three <i>peons</i> run out from a ruined village and plunge into the +bush. Another, who was slower and was caught, stated that they had been +left behind to wait until some more troops came up. The village was +empty, but the <i>peon</i> took the party to a hut he had been ordered to +watch. It was getting dark and when they went in Marston struck a match. +Next moment he let it drop, for a white man lay on the floor and +something strange about his attitude indicated that he was dead. Then +Rupert picked up the burning match and lighted a lantern.</p> + +<p>Marston shuddered as his memory recaptured the scene the dim +illumination touched. The dead man had drawn up his legs and his face +was distorted, but Marston did not want to remember this. It was Peters' +face, and he knew the fellow had not met a peaceful death. Father +Sebastian knelt down by the body; Rupert stooped and smiled.</p> + +<p>"You cannot help him and I do not think you will find a mark. I doubt if +he belonged to any flock, but it was not to yours. Anyhow, he is dead, +and you need not bother about how he died."</p> + +<p>"Yet you know," said Father Sebastian, fixing him with steady eyes.</p> + +<p>Rupert nodded. "He meant to sell me, and it is possible he got his +reward, although he did not enjoy it long. One could philosophize about +it, but I leave this to you. Well, I think we will not wait until his +friends arrive."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span>"I will wait," said Father Sebastian, firmly. "It is a duty to bury the +dead."</p> + +<p>Rupert shrugged and looked at Marston. Wyndham, shivering with ague, had +sat down and rested his head in his hands, as if he did not know what +was going on.</p> + +<p>"Watching the <i>padre</i> did not run off has cost us some time," Rupert +remarked. "However, it would be awkward if he sent the next detachment +of <i>cazadores</i> after us. I expect he knows how I would meet the +difficulty."</p> + +<p>"We will leave you and not bother you for a promise," Marston said to +Father Sebastian, who gave him his hand.</p> + +<p>"There is much that puzzles me and I do not know why you help this bad +man to escape, but I feel you are honest," he said. "Sometimes one must +trust without understanding." He lifted his hand solemnly. "<i>Vaya con +Dios!</i>"</p> + +<p>Then they went out and left him in the dark with Peters.</p> + +<p>Marston did not know if Father Sebastian sent the soldiers after them, +but although he thought he did he bore him no grudge. The man was +staunch, and from his point of view, was justified. In the morning, +Rupert declared they must push on faster, and their march became a race +for the coast. Now Marston could think about it coolly, he imagined +Rupert feared some of the negroes had joined Larrinaga and were +signalling news of the party's flight. Wyndham stumbled as they forced +their way savagely in scorching heat across reedy swamps and through +tangled bush, but he would not be carried and this would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> delayed +them dangerously. Marston recaptured with strange vividness the last +scene.</p> + +<p>It was dark when they broke out of the forest and saw the sea sparkle +under a half-moon. The land-breeze blew fresh, and now and then belts of +warm mist trailed across the beach. There were no mangroves, the beach +was flat and open, but they were some distance off the spot where the +schooner lay and they labored across the soft sand. Marston owned that +the suspense had shaken his nerve. He was desperately anxious to get on +board before he was stopped, but Wyndham could hardly walk. For +half-an-hour Marston dragged him along.</p> + +<p>When they were nearly level with the schooner, indistinct figures ran +out from the bush. Wyndham turned, and shaking off Marston, drew his +pistol. He fired two or three shots, but since the distance was long +Marston thought he rather expected to warn the crew than stop their +pursuers. The latter did not stop and Marston dragged Wyndham on again. +A boat was coming, but he doubted if they could reach it before the +others arrived. The sand was soft, he was exhausted, and Wyndham lurched +about. Sometimes he nearly pulled Marston down.</p> + +<p>Shots were fired behind them and bullets hummed overhead. The negroes +were running hard close in front, and the boat plunged into the belt of +surf. Then Wyndham fell and pulled Marston over. When he fell Marston +got some sand in his eyes and could hardly see. Somebody seized his arm +and dragged him to his feet; men were splashing in the foam about the +boat. He stuck to Harry but did not know how they got on board. Then he +felt the boat plunge and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> saw the half-naked Kroos were pulling for +their lives. Wyndham leaned against him and Marston felt his jacket +getting wet; he afterwards found that it was wet by blood. He put Harry +down in the stern-sheets and seized the nearest Krooboy's oar, thrusting +while the other pulled.</p> + +<p>When they got on board the schooner the sails were going up and nobody +else was hit. Marston and Rupert carried Wyndham to the cabin and +Marston remembered his horror when they put him in his berth. A glancing +bullet, turning over endways, had mangled the lower part of his face.</p> + +<p>This, however, was some days since and Marston was getting over the +shock. Rupert had told him Harry would live, although he would always +wear the scar.</p> + +<p>By-and-by Marston got up and walked about the deck. He dared not think +about Flora yet; he must navigate <i>Columbine</i> to Kingston and get +Wyndham into hospital. There was a little more wind now and the damp +sails did not shake, but the rolling and lurching stopped the schooner. +Although it was important to make Kingston soon, one could do nothing to +help their progress and Marston presently returned to the wheel. He +waited for a time, because he did not want to talk to Rupert. His +shrinking from the fellow had not lessened, but he was very tired and +limp, and at length he went down and got into his bunk.</p> + +<p>In the morning the breeze was fresh and <i>Columbine</i> threw the spray +about as she plunged across the white combers. At noon, Marston got his +sextant to take the sun and sat for some minutes on the skylight +calculating the schooner's position. Then he looked up and saw Rupert.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span>"I think the wind will hold," said the latter. "When do you expect to +arrive?"</p> + +<p>Marston told him and added: "You are not on the crew list and since +Kingston's a British port we will have to comply with the usual +formalities. We must think of a way of accounting for your being on +board." He paused and added with a touch of embarrassment: "It may be +some time before the doctors let me take Harry home and I don't +know——"</p> + +<p>"You don't know what to do about me?" Rupert suggested with the smile +Marston disliked. "Well, suppose you wait until you get there. I imagine +I won't bother you much. In the meantime, you haven't hauled your +patent-log. Let's see what distance it marks."</p> + +<p><i>Columbine</i>'s log was old-fashioned. In order to read the dial it was +necessary to bring the torpedo-shaped instrument on board, and Rupert, +jumping on a grating, put his foot on the low taffrail as he began to +haul the line. The line was long, the log, with its spiral vanes, +offered some resistance, and Marston, knowing it would be a minute or +two before Rupert lifted it out of the water, studied the compass. +Looking round, he saw the other's bent figure outlined against the +foaming wake; and then he glanced ahead. The wind was fresh and +<i>Columbine</i> sailed fast. White combers rolled up to windward and as she +plunged across their tops she threw up clouds of spray.</p> + +<p>In about a minute, Marston looked aft again and braced himself as he +gazed at the slanted rail. He had heard no splash or cry, but Rupert had +gone. He shouted, and signed to the Kroo steersman, who pulled round the +wheel. <i>Columbine</i> shipped some water as,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> with sails flapping and +banging, she came head to wind. The long booms jerked, blocks and ropes +whipped to and fro, and the crew began to run about the deck. One or two +hauled down the foresail, one or two trimmed the jibs aback, and Marston +helped the others at the Burton tackle to hoist out the gig.</p> + +<p>He jumped on board as she took the water. Four excited negroes leaped +down from the schooner's bulwarks, and a white sea washed across the +bows as they shoved her off. They got away without damage, and pulled +obliquely to leeward while Marston tried to calculate how far +<i>Columbine</i> had gone since he last saw Rupert. It was necessary to be +accurate, because, except when the combers picked up the boat, he could +see nothing but the white tops of the waves. Besides, rowing on an angry +sea is hard and the men would soon get exhausted. Since they could not +search long, he must reach the proper spot.</p> + +<p>No floating object tossed among the foam, and after half an hour he gave +it up. Rupert Wyndham had gone; he was old, and a good swimmer could not +have lived long in such a sea, because a man, buffeted by breaking +waves, may drown before he sinks. The boat had shipped much water, the +crew were worn out, and had some trouble to row back to <i>Columbine</i>. +When they had hoisted in the gig and put the schooner on her course, +Marston went to the cabin and mixed a drink. He was wet, his hands +shook, and his arms ached, for he had been forced to use his strength +while he labored with the big sculling oar.</p> + +<p>Moreover, he was strangely disturbed. He had shrunk from Rupert Wyndham +with half-instinctive repulsion. In one sense, Rupert's drowning would +relieve him and Wyndham from an awkward respon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span>sibility. Marston +admitted that he had recognized this, although he hoped he had not +allowed it to influence him. Indeed, because he did not like Rupert, he +had made sterner efforts to reach the spot where he had gone overboard; +but he wondered whether he had perhaps afterwards neglected means he +might have used had the man been his friend. On the whole, he did not +think so, and his tormenting doubts began to vanish. For all that, he +was glad Wyndham was asleep.</p> + +<p>When, some hours later, Marston went back to the cabin Wyndham's eyes +were open. The lower part of his face was covered by the bandage and he +could not talk, but Marston thought he missed Rupert and was curious. +Although Harry was very weak, Marston felt he had better tell him now. +If he did not, his unsatisfied curiosity might keep him restless and +bring the fever back.</p> + +<p>"I know what you want to ask," he said quietly. "Rupert's not here. He +fell overboard when he was hauling up the log."</p> + +<p>Wyndham's eyelids flickered and his hand moved under the blanket, but +this was the only sign he gave.</p> + +<p>"She was rolling," Marston went on. "He stood with his foot on the +taffrail, leaning out to gather in the line. You see, there was nothing +to save him if he lost his balance——"</p> + +<p>He stopped, for he saw Wyndham was looking at him very hard. Then he +resumed: "I think he did lose his balance, but I don't know. I was +looking forward, wondering whether we ought to haul down a reef, and +none of the boys saw him fall. There was not a splash."</p> + +<p>A feeble movement of Wyndham's head urged him to go on.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>"We got the gig over soon, but the boat had been going fast and +head-reached some distance when we brought her round. Then there was a +confused sea."</p> + +<p>Marston saw Wyndham understood; he need not labor his explanation, but +he wished Harry could talk. There was an assurance he wanted his comrade +to give; Harry knew how he had felt about Rupert.</p> + +<p>"I think I did my best," he said awkwardly. "She nearly capsized once or +twice; the sea was hollow and curled before you expected. The water on +board was getting deep, and we couldn't bale."</p> + +<p>A very faint smile flickered in Wyndham's eyes and Marston was conscious +of keen relief. Harry had understood his embarrassment and was +satisfied. To hint at regret would be useless cant; there was nothing +more to be said. For all that, Marston was glad when a Krooboy called +him on deck. It was blowing fresher and he gave some orders and occupied +himself by shortening sail.</p> + + +<h2 class="newchapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III_XII" id="CHAPTER_III_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br /> +<span class="smalltext">THE FRESH START</span></h2> + + +<p>Dusk had fallen and rows of lights twinkled along the walls at the +river-mouth. Tall chimneys and warehouses rose against the sky, there +was a biting wind, and Marston shivered at the door of the liner's +smoking-room. Her engines throbbed slackly as she steamed in with the +tide, past the dark shapes of anchored vessels. A mile or two ahead, +bright streaks, in which the separate lights were merged, marked the +landing stages, and Marston looked for the red, white, and green +triangle that would indicate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> the company's tug. For his comrade's sake, +he was illogically relieved because he could not see her yet, although +the moment he dreaded could not be put off long.</p> + +<p>After a time, he went back into the smoking room. Wyndham, wearing a +heavy coat, lounged on a settee. He was very thin and his face was +haggard, but this was not all. His mouth was distorted, for one side +drooped, giving him a strange look of vacant amusement. The contrast +between this and the melancholy in his eyes was rather horrible. Marston +was getting used to the disfigurement, but he had seen that strangers +were jarred. Besides, Wyndham would never again articulate clearly. His +talk was slow and awkward, and the Kingston doctor doubted if he would +altogether get back his strength.</p> + +<p>"Ten minutes yet; I don't see the tug," said Marston. "Shall I help you +out on deck when she comes?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled and answered with the deliberation he was forced to use: +"There wouldn't be much use in that, Bob. I heard them fixing the big +gangway lights."</p> + +<p>Marston knew he was thinking about Flora and the shock she must get. It +was going to be hard for Flora; in fact, it was hard for both.</p> + +<p>"She knows," he said quietly. "I was frank with Mabel and told her all +before the doctor would let you write."</p> + +<p>"Thanks! Flora has pluck, but the pluck that hides a hurt does not cure +it."</p> + +<p>"It goes some way," said Marston. "When Flora sees you, I don't think +she will see the scar."</p> + +<p>Then one or two of the passengers came in, and they waited until the +engines stopped and they heard the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> tug's paddles. Wyndham got on his +feet awkwardly and waved back Marston, who had meant to give him his +arm. His face was very pinched, but his eyes were bright, and as they +went out he forced a smile.</p> + +<p>A big electric lamp hung from the spar-deck and threw down a searching +light. The tug's gangway was run out and people began to come on board. +Marston saw Mabel and his heart beat with mixed emotions as he noted her +black dress, for a cablegram had told him Mrs. Hilliard was dead. He was +unselfishly sorry for Mabel, but she had met the last claim of duty and +he had waited long.</p> + +<p>Then Flora stepped down from the gangway and went straight across the +deck to Wyndham, who stood under the lamp. The strong light touched +their faces and Marston imagined the corners of Flora's mouth twitched. +This was all; her step was swift and eager and her eyes shone with +tender welcome. She was very brave. Marston saw no pity in her look; +there was nothing but gladness and love.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" she cried, and Wyndham took her in his feeble arms.</p> + +<p>A few moments afterwards Mabel gave Marston her hand and when he had +gazed at her his glance rested on her black dress.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry. Very sorry; I think you understand!"</p> + +<p>"I know, Bob," said Mabel. "You thought about me; you don't think much +about yourself. But I must speak to Harry."</p> + +<p>She left him and he was filled with tenderness and pride as he watched +her greet Wyndham. Her smile was frank and her voice was sympathetic, +but one got no hint of pity that might jar a sensitive nerve. Mabel +struck the right note, and Marston knew it was not all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> good-breeding +that guided her. He loved her for the human kindness she gave his +comrade.</p> + +<p>When they went down the gangway Wyndham was forced to lean on Marston's +arm. A car was waiting at the floating bridge that led to the pier-head +and Marston helped Wyndham in.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the office early and report to you in the evening," he said. +"You must take things easy and not bother at all."</p> + +<p>Flora and Chisholm got in and when they drove off Marston took Mabel's +hand.</p> + +<p>"If you don't mind, we'll walk to the top. I want to look about and +realize I'm at home. I feel like a boy who has just come back from his +first term at school."</p> + +<p>"Was it very hard, Bob?" Mabel asked, sympathetically.</p> + +<p>Marston smiled. "It was foreign, if you understand, and that was worse. +Plots, gloom, sickness, and mystery that made you savage because you +didn't know if you were being cleverly cheated or not. Sometimes I half +believed the Bat was a magician. In fact, it was all from which a sober +fellow revolts."</p> + +<p>"Yet you were strong enough to carry out the job you hated. That is +much, Bob."</p> + +<p>Marston looked down the river. Long rows of lights pricked out the dock +walls that narrowed to a dark gap in the distance. Low constellations +marked the ferry landing stages, and in the stream other lights, colored +green and red, moved swiftly up and down. In the background were misty +towers and spires. Whistles shrieked and one heard the splash of paddles +and the throb of propellers, for the commerce of two cities floated up +on the tide. Bob's imagination was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> sometimes dull, but the river noises +moved him then. He got a hint of ordered effort and useful activity. +Sober men brought home the ships and controlled the trade that extended +across the world. Perhaps, if one looked for it with understanding, +there was a romance about this far-spread trade, but of one kind of +romance Bob had had enough.</p> + +<p>"We will go to the car," he said presently, with quiet happiness. "I've +got back and you are with me. I have all I want. Coming up channel, my +satisfaction was half spoiled; the trouble waiting Flora haunted me. +Then, to some extent, I felt I hadn't justified her trust. I'd promised +to see Harry out, and I brought him home like that."</p> + +<p>"If you had not been very staunch, he might not have come home at all. +But will he always be disfigured?"</p> + +<p>"The mark of the bullet won't wear off and he will never talk easily. +For the rest, the Kingston doctor wasn't very encouraging. He said Harry +had obviously borne a crushing strain for long, and now it had broken +him, we mustn't look for a quick recovery. Still he was young and proper +treatment in England would help. Well, his meeting Flora is over and +I've got rid of a load."</p> + +<p>"You ought not to have been afraid for Flora."</p> + +<p>"I see this now; she was wonderful," Marston agreed. "Human nature's +rather mixed and some is pretty base metal, but you feel that Flora's +almost without alloy."</p> + +<p>Mabel smiled. "I like you when you're romantic, Bob; but even then +you're cautious."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Marston. "After all, I only know one girl who is pure +gold."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span>"Now you're quite extravagant, but you're very nice indeed," Mabel +replied, and their car rolled up.</p> + +<p>Next evening Mabel went with Bob to Wyndham's small house. Wyndham, +looking pale and jaded, occupied an easy chair by the fire and Mabel +ordered him not to get up.</p> + +<p>"I have been to the office and all is going well," Marston remarked. +"Next week you can come down for perhaps an hour a day. We won't need +you longer and I mean to be firm. Nevis tells me he won't stay. I +imagine he doesn't approve my methods, but I'd rather expected this and +think I've got a better man."</p> + +<p>"If you're satisfied——" said Wyndham, smiling. "Since Nevis began at +the office, I suppose you feel he belongs to the old state of things."</p> + +<p>Marston looked half embarrassed, but nodded. "I did feel something like +that. A new man is better when you make a fresh start on another line. +However, I'm not going to bother about business; I've told you enough to +put your mind at rest. There's something much more important, Mabel has +agreed to marry me next month."</p> + +<p>Flora kissed Mabel and for a time they engaged in happy talk. Then +Marston got up.</p> + +<p>"We are going to the drawing-room. It's a long time since I heard good +music and Mabel said she'd play."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know you liked music much, Bob," Flora remarked.</p> + +<p>"All the same, I do like it," Marston rejoined. "It's true I've been to +concerts that bored me; but all music's charming when Mabel plays."</p> + +<p>Flora let them go and then looked at Wyndham. "A wedding present's the +next thing, Harry, and it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> will need some thought. What can we give +them, who have given us so much?"</p> + +<p>Wyndham smiled. "I imagine Bob would be content with our gratitude, +although he'd feel badly embarrassed if you made it too plain." His +smile, however vanished as he resumed: "Anyhow, I shall never wipe out +my debt. There are not many like Bob."</p> + +<p>He mused for a few moments and went on: "I remember his telling me +Rupert was drowned. My face was bandaged; I couldn't speak and was too +weak to move. Bob could only see my eyes, and as he watched them I knew +what he thought. Because he had hated Rupert from the beginning, he was +desperately anxious to persuade me he had done his best. The thing was, +of course, ridiculous. Bob being the man he is, one could not doubt him. +It was unthinkable to imagine he had not used every effort, although the +sea was rough and he risked a capsize. The boat was half swamped when he +brought her back. Yet I imagine he was more disturbed than me."</p> + +<p>"I think Bob did not see him fall overboard?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Wyndham. "Rupert may have lost his balance, but I doubt. We +were not far from Kingston and when we got there he must, so to speak, +resume a white man's responsibilities and begin life again. He had lived +like a savage, commanding fear and using power that few civilized rulers +know; but all that had gone and he was proud."</p> + +<p>"But you were disturbed when Bob told you," Flora urged.</p> + +<p>"At first, I was conscious of relief. I thought Rupert had seen the only +way out of the tangle. Before he went, I'd begun to feel the situation +was im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span>possible for us all. Afterwards, I saw that my greedy ambition +had helped to involve us and he had borne the punishment. Had he not +thought he could get supplies from me, he would not have plotted the +rebellion."</p> + +<p>Flora hesitated for a moment, and then said, "When Bob came in the +morning to ask if you had slept, I kept him a few minutes and we talked +about this. He declared your engaging to supply the goods was not +important, because if you had refused, Rupert could have got all he +needed from Peters or somebody else, so long as he was willing to give a +high price."</p> + +<p>"It's possible. After all, Bob is cleverer than people sometimes think, +and I see an explanation for Peters' vindictive pursuit: I'd stopped his +trading with Rupert and refused him for a partner. Well, he paid, and +Rupert paid, and I owe my escape to Bob."</p> + +<p>"You made reparation," said Flora gently.</p> + +<p>"I tried; when I was found out. It was rather late then, and Bob carried +much of the load. But I did not get off free. I spent days of torment, +thinking about what you must bear, before I resigned myself to coming +home, broken in body, to be a burden to you."</p> + +<p>Flora's eyes shone. "Oh, my dear! You have come home and that's all that +matters. Besides, you'll get well in England; your strength will +return."</p> + +<p>"It may be long," said Wyndham quietly. "I cannot grumble for myself; +I'm thinking about Bob. It looks as if he must carry my load and his, +but he won't growl. He's strong and his pluck's unbreakable. Pluck and +honesty like Bob's are worth more than talent."</p> + +<p>He paused, and smiled when he resumed: "Well, while I try not to lose +patience, waiting, and wonder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span>ing whether I'll be fit to work again, +he'll build a new Wyndhams' on a surer foundation than I could have +laid. I can see him, stopping now and then with his puzzled look, but +not stopping long. Bob's way is to go on, straight and steadfastly."</p> + +<p>"We owe him much," said Flora. "Your debt is mine."</p> + +<p>Then there were steps in the passage and the others came in. Mabel +blushed when she saw Flora's smile.</p> + +<p>"After all, it looks as if music did bore Bob," Flora remarked. "We +didn't hear you playing long."</p> + +<p>"We talked," said Mabel, with a frank glance. "There was much to talk +about and all was rather wonderful. Perhaps this looks extravagant, but +I don't think it is."</p> + +<p>"Hold fast to your persuasion," said Flora gently. "It will take you +far. Love conquers many doubts and troubles."</p> + +<p>"Mabel's troubles ought not to be numerous," Wyndham interposed. "She is +going to marry my partner; the best man I know."</p> + +<p>Marston's face got red, but Mabel laughed, a soft, happy laugh.</p> + +<p>"I really think Bob stands alone," she said. "He's like nobody else and +I'm sure there's nobody like him."</p> + + +<p class="theend">THE END</p> + +<hr class="wide" /> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected.</p> + +<p>In Part I, Chapter VIII, "They are <i>bete</i>, the <i>Mestizos</i>" was changed +to "They are <i>bête</i>, the <i>Mestizos</i>".</p> + +<p>In Part I, Chapter IX, a period was changed to a comma after "if the +goods are his or the other's".</p> + +<p>In Part I, Chapter X, a period was changed to a comma after "let your +imagination carry you away".</p> + +<p>In Part I, Chapter XI, periods were changed to commas after "satisfied +in one way" and "Harry's business standing".</p> + +<p>In Part II, Chapter I, a period was changed to a comma after "your next +balance sheet won't be good".</p> + +<p>In Part II, Chapter IV, "he had a invested a good sum" was changed to +"he had invested a good sum", and a missing quotation mark was added +after "started inland from the Salinas coast of the Caribbean."</p> + +<p>In Part III, Chapter II, "Dark came quicky at the lagoon" was changed to +"Dark came quickly at the lagoon".</p> + +<p>In Part III, Chapter III, "You sent for me. don't know if I approve" was +changed to "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve".</p> + +<p>In Part III, Chapter VIII, a period was changed to a comma after "Don +Ramon's hint was plain".</p> + +<p>In Part III, Chapter IX, "He shouted and Marsten clenched his fist" was +changed to "He shouted and Marston clenched his fist", and a period was +changed to a question mark after "Can you hold her".</p> + +<p>In addition, the heading for WYNDHAM'S PAL which originally followed +the heading for PART I: THE LURE OF AMBITION has been moved to precede +it.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wyndham's Pal, by Harold Bindloss + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYNDHAM'S PAL *** + +***** This file should be named 39349-h.htm or 39349-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/4/39349/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Wyndham's Pal + +Author: Harold Bindloss + +Release Date: April 2, 2012 [EBook #39349] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYNDHAM'S PAL *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +[Illustration: It looked as if the Mulatto knew this. _Page 82_ +_Wyndhams Pal._] + + + + +WYNDHAM'S PAL + +BY HAROLD BINDLOSS + +AUTHOR OF "_The Buccaneer Farmer_," "_The Girl from Keller's_," +"_Brandon of the Engineers_," _etc._ + +[Illustration] + +WITH FRONTISPIECE + +A. L. BURT COMPANY +Publishers New York + +Published by arrangement with Frederick A. Stokes Company + +COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY +PUBLISHED IN ENGLAND UNDER THE TITLE "WYNDHAM'S PARTNER" + +ALL RIGHTS RESERVED + +PRINTED IN U. S. A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +PART I--THE LURE OF AMBITION + + CHAPTER PAGE + I THE COMMODORE'S CUP 3 + II MOONLIGHT AND GLAMOUR 14 + III CHISHOLM'S PERSUASION 26 + IV THE MAN WHO VANISHED 35 + V THE TORNADO 45 + VI THE MIDDLE PASSAGE 54 + VII THE TOW 64 + VIII THE LAGOON 74 + IX DON FELIX'S REVOLT 85 + X MARSTON USES HIS POWER 97 + XI MARSTON GOES TO SEA 107 + + +PART II--WYNDHAM CLAIMS HIS REWARD + + I MABEL PONDERS 121 + II MABEL'S PEARLS 131 + III PETERS' OFFER 142 + IV THE LOST EXPLORERS 152 + V WYNDHAM CHANGES HIS PLAN 161 + VI PETERS RENEWS HIS OFFER 171 + VII WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY 180 + VIII UP HILL 190 + + +PART III--REPARATION + + I WYNDHAM PAYS DUTY 203 + II MARSTON GETS A WARNING 213 + III WYNDHAM TRIES PERSUASION 223 + IV WYNDHAM FINDS A CLEW 232 + V DON LUIS' BREAKFAST PARTY 242 + VI A SAIL IN THE DARK 251 + VII THE TUG 260 + VIII AT THE MISSION 271 + IX _Columbine_ STEALS AWAY 280 + X THE BAT OWNS DEFEAT 288 + XI THE BAT'S EXIT 299 + XII THE FRESH START 308 + + + + +WYNDHAM'S PAL + + + + +PART I + +THE LURE OF AMBITION + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE COMMODORE'S CUP + + +The breeze had dropped as the tide ebbed, and _Red Rose_ plunged +languidly across the shining swell. Faint mist obscured the horizon and +the yachts engaged in the fifty-mile race had vanished, although Wyndham +thought he had not long since distinguished a sail in the distance. He +was curious about this because if he had seen canvas it was _Deva_'s, +and her skipper had probably seen _Red Rose_. The rest of the fleet was +scattered about to the north. Wyndham had noted their positions +carefully before the haze rolled up. He wanted to win and meant to leave +nothing to chance. + +In the meantime, the yacht crept slowly through the sparkling water, +close-hauled to a light wind that Wyndham knew would not last. Her +canvas, tapering in a tall white pyramid, swayed with a regular heave +against the sky. In her shadow, the sea was a cool, luminous green, but +the sun was hot and Wyndham had taken off his coat. He wore a white +jersey, blue trousers, and very neat white shoes. His age was +twenty-six, his figure was thin but athletic, and the molding of his +face was good. On the whole, he was a handsome man and was generally +marked by a careless, twinkling smile. The smile, however, was to some +extent deceptive, and at times his blue eyes were hard. Wyndham was +popular; he had a way of inspiring confidence, and knew and used his +talent. + +Marston, who sat on the yacht's coaming, splicing a rope, trusted +Wyndham far. Marston's round face was burned red and generally wore a +look of tranquil good-humor; his mouth was large and his eyes were calm. +People thought him dull and he was not clever, but Wyndham knew his +comrade's stability. Although Bob was honest and trustful, he was firm. +It was characteristic that the splice he slowly made was very neat. + +Their paid hand was occupied at the clanking pump, for _Red Rose_ had +shipped some water while the breeze was fresh. This was not remarkable, +since the boat was small, but Wyndham knew, though Marston did not, that +a quantity of water had come in between her working planks. She was old +and needed repairs Wyndham could not afford. For all that, he hoped to +win the Commodore's cup. He had particular grounds for wanting the cup, +and Wyndham's habit was to get what he wanted. + +"I think the splice will stand," Marston said, throwing down the rope. + +"Your work does stand," Wyndham remarked. + +"Oh, well," said Marston, deprecatingly, "I'm slow, but I like a good +job. Saves time in the end, because you needn't do the thing again." + +"You're a philosopher, Bob. My plan is generally hit or miss. But can +you see _Deva_?" + +Marston searched the horizon. The gently heaving sea was empty and _Red +Rose_ alone in a misty circle three or four miles across. Except for a +few razor-bills, nothing but the ripple she trailed broke the reflection +of the calm sky. Then his glance, traveling north, stopped and fixed on +something faintly distinguishable against the thin mist. + +"No," he said, "I don't see her. Thought I did some time since but she's +faded. What's that in the distance on our starboard bow?" + +"It's hard to tell. Might be a big black-backed gull resting on the +water. The misty light magnifies things." + +"Shall I get the glasses?" + +"Not unless you want them. They're under the stuff we stowed away in the +locker aft. If Charley has finished pumping, you might help him get out +the spinnaker. We'll have the wind fair when the flood begins to run." + +Marston and the fisher-lad vanished down the forecastle hatch, and +Wyndham studied the distant object. He did not yet need the sail the +others had gone for, but he was afraid of Charley's keen eyes. A buoy +indicating a shoal was not far off and the sailing directions for the +race stated that all marks of this kind must be kept on the port hand, +but Wyndham knew the coast and imagined the tide was still ebbing in a +neighboring river mouth. The main stream ran north and would carry the +boats off their course, but near the shore another stream ran west +across some wide shoals. If he could steer _Red Rose_ into this current, +it would help her on while her rivals, farther off the land, drifted +back. When the others came up with the sail Wyndham wondered whether +Marston would ask for the chart, but he did not. The object they had +seen had vanished, for although the wind was light the boat slowly +forged ahead. The color of the smooth undulations indicated that the +depth got less. + +"Looks as if we were near West Hodden sand," Marston remarked. "They had +a dispute at the committee about keeping us outside the bank. Makes a +longer run, but some of the deep boats might have touched bottom if +they'd tried to cross at low-water. Anyhow, it doesn't matter, so long +as we all keep out." + +Wyndham nodded and began to talk about something else. + +"I hope we'll get fine weather, because I need bracing up. When you have +not much money, business is a grind and I'm rather young to carry the +responsibilities of the house. Things might have been easier, had Jim +Wyndham not died two or three days after he fell ill." + +Marston knew something about this. Wyndham Brothers was a small +old-fashioned firm and Harry had recently taken control on his uncle's +sudden death. James Wyndham was extravagant and Marston imagined he had +left his affairs involved. Marston had no occupation and all the money +he needed. Moreover, he was Harry's friend. + +"Well," he said, "if you're short of capital, I think some could be got. +Sound investments don't pay much, and now and then I feel I'd like a +venture." + +"You're a good sort, Bob. For all that, you had better leave business +alone, because you would get robbed. Of course, if I saw a safe and +profitable speculation, I might let you join, but just now I'm occupied +trying to put things straight. Some are badly tangled. I used to think +I could carve my way to fortune if I got a chance, but so far it's been +my luck to use broken tools." + +Marston thought this was so. Harry was a good shot and racing skipper, +but he had never had a first-class gun or boat. Still, he used the +make-shifts well and sometimes beat better men. + +"Yours is a pretty old house, isn't it?" Marston remarked. + +"Wyndhams' was founded in the days of the slavers and privateers and has +traded in West Africa and South America ever since. The house was +famous, but its decline began when steamers knocked out the sailing +ships. We stuck to the old vessels and own one or two small schooners +yet, though they're only used for collecting cargo at beaches steamboats +do not touch. Some of the documents I've recently studied tell a +romantic tale. The Wyndhams were all adventurers and a number did not +die in bed. One or two vanished abroad. As perhaps you know, my uncle +Rupert did." + +"I heard something about this," said Marston. "What happened?" + +"Nobody knows. He left the West Indian factory; sailed off in a canoe +and was not seen again. Books and money were in order and his health was +pretty good. There was no explanation; he vanished, that's all. I saw +him once in England and thought him a sober business man. One got no +hint of wildness, but the house's records indicate a vein of romantic +extravagance in my ancestors. For all that, my father was a quiet +country parson and I have felt nothing of the kind." + +Marston pondered. He knew Harry Wyndham rather well and had noted, in +moments of excitement and strain, a curious recklessness that was +perhaps not altogether normal. For example, there was the race when _Red +Rose_ and another yacht met close-hauled. _Red Rose_ was on the port +tack, and the rule was she must give way, but, until the last minute, +Harry sat unmoved at the tiller. Marston remembered the piled-up foam +about the plunging hulls as the yachts converged, the slanted pyramids +of sail that looked as if they must shock, and the horrible tension he +had felt. Then, when collision was imminent, Wyndham gave the other room +and afterwards laughed. + +"I was tempted to find out how it would feel if we rammed her," he +confessed. + +This, however, was some time since, and Marston did not dwell on the +incident. His temperament was essentially normal. + +"No sign of a breeze from the east yet," he said. + +"All the same, it will come," Wyndham rejoined. + +Marston looked about. The sun was getting low and it was nearly calm. +Now and then the topsail flapped and the mainsail hung slack. Blocks +rattled as the heavy boom jerked about. The swell was smooth and in +color a curious shining green, as if the light were reflected through it +from beneath. It looked as if they were crossing a big sand, but Marston +did not sound. Harry knew the coast, and the sailing directions required +them to keep outside the shoals. + +In the distance a steamer's smoke trailed across the sky; one heard her +engines beat with a monotonous rhythm. In front, the mist was melting +and vague gray hills were faintly distinguishable. The yacht's deck was +damp, but for the rolling she hardly moved. + +"We had better get some food," said Marston. "I'll light the stove." + +He went to the cabin and when, after the rude meal, they lounged and +smoked, the mist suddenly rolled away. Long hills, with woods among +their folds, ran back on the port hand; in the distance, a big black +headland cut against the sunset. The water astern was hazy and dotted by +sails. It was now a glassy calm. + +"We're nearer the coast than I reckoned, but the ebb has given us a big +lift," Marston observed. + +"The rest are a long way back, although I think they're moving." + +"They've got the breeze and will bring it up," said Wyndham. "Hoist the +spinnaker." + +For the next few minutes Marston and the paid hand were occupied with +the big triangular sail, which extended from the masthead to the end of +a boom they thrust over the boat's side. A British yacht's spinnaker is +not fitted with a gaff. At first the spinnaker hung slack, but presently +lifted in gentle curves; then the water splashed against the planks and +_Red Rose_ began to move. She gathered speed. There was a humming noise +astern, mast and rigging creaked, and foam leaped at the bows. It got +cold, white ripples streaked the sea, and the wake ran back in a foaming +wedge. The spinnaker swelled like a balloon and, with the tall mainsail +on the other side, dwarfed the speeding hull. + +The sun dipped, the dark sea stood up in ridges above _Red Rose_'s rail, +spray began to fly, and one heard the rush of wind and groaning of +spars. The boat yawed about and steering needed skill, since, if +Wyndham let her swerve, spinnaker or mainsail would swing across and +mast or boom would go. For all that, he risked a glance over his +shoulder now and then. Some of the boats were coming up; they were +bigger craft and gave _Red Rose_ time by the handicap. She, however, +gave time to others, and must save it in order to win. + +Wyndham let go while the sea got rough, for the flood tide now ran +against the freshening wind. While he swayed with the tiller she plunged +and rolled about, lifting her bows out of boiling foam and sometimes +burying them deep. Water flowed across her deck and presently began to +splash beneath the cockpit floor, and Charley started the clanking pump. +A full moon had risen and two big boats, with canvas that cut black +against the silver light, were getting near. + +"I think we'll save our time," Wyndham said. + +Marston looked at the high topsail and bending spinnaker boom. He would +have liked to haul the topsail down, but his comrade's voice had a +strange gay note that he had heard before. Harry meant to carry on; he +would drive the boat until something broke. Then Marston looked ahead. +The big promontory was not far off and moonlight touched the towering +crags. The sea was all white, for the current, setting strongly round +the head, ran in angry combers against the wind. + +"We are going to get wet in the tide-race," he said. "You might find +slacker water if you edged her off a bit." + +"And sail a longer course?" Wyndham rejoined. "We give _Deva_ four +minutes and she's not far astern." + +Marston acquiesced. After all, his business was to obey. "Oh, well," he +said, "Charley and I had better get out on the booms." + +He beckoned the paid hand and they crawled along the deck. _Red Rose_ +rolled savagely and main boom and spinnaker boom tossed their ends +aloft. The spars must be kept down, lest they swing across, and Marston, +clasping the varnished pole with arms and legs, crawled out as far as he +dared. Sometimes he swung high above the combers that rushed past below; +and sometimes swung down until his body was wet by the foam. He could +hold on if Harry kept her straight, but if she swerved much the big +sails would lurch across and he and Charley would hardly escape with +broken bones. He looked aft. Wyndham's figure cut against the light; it +was tense and his head was motionless, as if his glance was fixed. +Marston knew he meant to bring _Red Rose_ in on her time allowance or +sail her under. + +They drew round the head and reeled across a bay. A row of lights began +to blink and two colored lanterns tossed. Marston saw the lights for a +few moments when the spinnaker soared away from the boom. The race was +nearly over, for the colored lights marked the flag-boat, anchored off +the long iron pier. The committee had not given the yachts much room; +perhaps they thought of their comfort and anchored the steamer near the +beach so she would not roll about. Smart work would be needed to shorten +sail before they struck the pier. + +A shadow touched the spinnaker and Marston looked astern. A swaying +pyramid of canvas shut out the moon and foam leaped about a plunging +hull. _Ptarmigan_ had crept up and would go past, but she was large and +allowed _Red Rose_ some time. Marston could not remember how much she +allowed; all he could do was to hold on, for his arms ached and his head +began to swim. A few minutes would finish the race, and he wondered +dully what would happen then. There were, perhaps, two hundred yards +between the flag-boat and the pier; they ought to haul down the +spinnaker now, but Harry would carry on. + +He saw _Ptarmigan_'s topsail tilt downwards and dark figures run about +her deck. Her spinnaker collapsed like a torn balloon, but _Red Rose_ +leaped on, pressed by straining sail. Then there was a flash, and the +report of a gun rolled among the crags ahead. They drove into the smoke, +speeding side by side with _Ptarmigan_, and the flash of another gun +pierced the dark. Marston, crawling in-board, dropped into the cockpit +as the flag-boat swept astern, and for the next few minutes he was +desperately occupied. + +The spinnaker went into the sea, the topsail thrashed half-way up the +mast, and _Red Rose_ listed until the water was deep on her lee deck. A +white sea swept her forward as they hauled down the staysail; and then, +coming round, she plunged head to wind, a few yards from the dark +ironwork of the pier. Wyndham came to help and soon afterwards they +brought her to a safe anchorage. While they stowed the sails a gig +crossed the bows and somebody shouted: "Well done, _Red Rose_! You're +first by three minutes on handicap time." + +Wyndham put on his jacket and lighted a cigarette. "Not bad for a boat I +bought because she was outclassed. Sometimes I wonder what I could do if +I had proper tools," he said. Then he laughed. "Anyhow, we had better +start the pump." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MOONLIGHT AND GLAMOUR + + +Rockets leaped up from the old castle on the narrow flat between the +woods and the strait. Colored fires burned behind the loopholes in the +ruined walls, and an admiring crowd occupied the lawn that slanted to +the water. The night was calm and when the band stopped the voices of a +choir, singing old part-songs on the pier, carried well. There was a +smell of drying seaweed, and the yachts' anchor-lights burned steadily +in rows that wavered with the eddying tide. The last race was over and +the townsfolk had given the crews a feast before the fleet dispersed. + +Marston sat on a broken wall, talking to _Deva_'s owner about the race +along the coast. Elliot was a friend of Marston's. Chisholm, the +commodore's young son, stood close by, smoking a cigarette. + +"You beat us handsomely and Wyndham deserves the cup for his pluck in +carrying on when we were forced to lower our topsail," Elliot admitted. +"Still something was due to luck; you got the last of the stream along +the shore when the tide running down the river carried the rest of us +back." + +"Wyndham has a talent for that kind of thing," said Marston. "Sometimes +you feel he, so to speak, thinks like a fish. He doesn't need to +calculate when the tide will turn and where he'll find slack water. He +knows." + +"Wyndham has a talent for getting what he wants," Chisholm interposed. +"_Deva_ ought to have beaten _Red Rose_." + +"Aren't you rather young to judge?" Marston asked, with a touch of +dryness. + +"Oh, well," said the lad, "I like a man who loses now and then. You can +understand that kind of fellow." + +Elliot frowned. He could take a beating; but he was curious and looked +at Marston thoughtfully. + +"I suppose you didn't see the Knoll buoy?" + +"We did not," Marston replied. "There was something on the water in the +haze, but it was too small for the buoy. Wyndham thought it a gull, a +big black-back; his sight is pretty good." + +"How did the thing bear?" + +Marston hesitated, because he saw where the question led, but he was +honest. + +"Nearly ahead; a point or two to starboard. Anyhow, it vanished, +although, as we didn't change our course, we must have passed the spot +rather close," he replied, forgetting that he was below when the object +vanished. + +"Then it was a gull," Elliot agreed, but Chisholm was not satisfied. + +"Elliot's a sportsman; I don't know if I am or not, because I was on +board _Deva_ and feel hurt we didn't get the cup. Wyndham's a smart +skipper, but his luck's too good. One's inclined to doubt a man who +always gets a prize. My notion is, it isn't altogether due to skill. +Besides, I think the commodore would have liked Elliot to win the cup." + +"You're not a tactful lad and perhaps you're not in very good form just +now," Elliot remarked. "We'll go along and hear the band." + +They went off and Marston lighted his pipe. He was rather angry with +young Chisholm, because he was persuaded Wyndham had not seen the buoy. +Harry was not the man to win a race by a shabby trick; Marston trusted +his friends. + +In the meantime, Wyndham and Flora Chisholm occupied a bench in a quiet +corner of the castle wall. Now and then a colored fire blazed up on the +battlements and red reflections flickered about the crowded lawn, but +there were dark intervals when they saw the water sparkle and the black +hills across the strait. When the band stopped, one heard the soft +splash of the tide, and the choir singing old Welsh airs. Flora was +young and felt the glamour of the calm moonlight night. + +Moreover, there was something strangely romantic about Wyndham. He was +handsome and marked by a dashing recklessness that rather carried one +away. Flora liked his pluck and bold seamanship. Her father was an old +navy man and the yacht club commodore, and she had inherited his love +for the sea. She had watched the finish of the race from the flag-boat, +and had seen _Red Rose_ reel past, horribly pressed by sail. Fine skill +and steady nerve were needed to bring the old boat in first. + +Perhaps this was not important, but it was typical of Harry Wyndham; he +ran risks and laughed. It was bracing to know him and flattering to feel +that he was drawn to her. Yet Flora had some doubts; after all, she had +not known Wyndham long and he had drawbacks. He was poor, some of her +friends distrusted him, and Chisholm had given hints--he approved Jim +Elliot, and Flora thought Jim loved her. When Wyndham was away she +hesitated and wondered whether she was rash; when he was near she +thrilled and caution vanished. Presently she roused herself and began to +talk. + +Wyndham got a hint of strain and his heart beat. He imagined Flora was +vaguely alarmed by his power to move her, but she did not go away. +Although her fresh beauty had first attracted him, he soon saw she had +qualities that strengthened her charm; she was proud, with a clean +pride, honest, and plucky. All the same, he was poor; his people were +known for their romantic extravagance and a touch of moral laxity. The +business of which he had recently taken control languished and had not +been very scrupulously carried on. Yet Wyndham was not daunted, and his +love for the girl was sincere. + +"Things will look different to-morrow when the boats have gone and the +little town goes to sleep again," he said. "I feel doleful. The +holiday's nearly over and soon after sunrise there'll be nothing left +but a happy memory." + +"Then you make an early start?" + +"At half ebb; three or four o'clock. One wishes the night would last. +Nights like this are not numerous." + +"You ought to be satisfied. You won the cup." + +"I meant to win. For one thing, you wished me luck." + +Flora blushed and wondered whether he could see her face. "After all, +that was not much help," she said. "My wishing you luck wouldn't alter +the wind and tide." + +"It gave me an object and a stimulus. We are a curious lot and much +depends on our mood. When one's braced enough, obstacles don't count. +One runs risks and wins." + +Flora was fastidious and got a faint jar. Yet she knew he was not a +boaster; he did what he said. Besides, she was flattered. + +"You are stopping for a few days, with the Commodore?" he resumed. + +Flora said she was and he frowned. "I must go. I ought not to have taken +the holiday, but the temptation was strong. Now I must make up for the +lost time." + +"Your new business keeps you occupied?" + +"Yes; it claims all my thought, though now and then I deny the claim. +The sea pulls and a boat's a fascinating toy; but a time comes when one +must put one's toys away." + +"For all that, you came to the regattas and won the cup." + +Wyndham smiled and, for the moon was bright, Flora noted the reckless +sparkle in his eyes. + +"You know why I came and why I won the cup," he said. "Perhaps I'm vain, +but I wanted you to see I could beat the others whose toys are all that +occupy them. I have not their luck, and my object for coming drives me +back to town. If I'm to realize my ambitions, I have got to work." + +"Then you are ambitious?" Flora remarked and looked away. + +"Very," he replied quietly. "I know my drawbacks and they must be +removed. I have inherited the responsibilities of an embarrassed house. +My job's to repair its credit, wipe out debts, and make Wyndhams' +respected, as it was respected once. A big job, but the ambition behind +it gives me driving force." + +He paused and gave her a steady look. "Your father's friends are +merchants and shipowners. You know I have much to build up and something +to live down." + +Flora was quiet for a moment or two. She had heard her friends talk +about Wyndhams' and it was plain that they thought the new head of the +house something of an adventurer. For all that, she was moved. She liked +his frankness and his resolution. Looking about, she saw Marston and a +girl she knew cross the lawn, and was tempted to join them. Had it not +been for the glamour of the moonlight and sparkling sea, she might have +gone. + +"I wish you luck again!" she said quietly. + +"Ah," he said, "that will carry me far! Farther than you think, perhaps, +because I am going away." + +Flora moved abruptly and he saw she was disturbed. + +"Where are you going? Will you stop long?" she asked, and Wyndham knew +his chance had come. Her friends might blame him, but he meant to use +his power. + +"To begin with, I'm going to West Africa, and then to South and Central +America. We have an old schooner in the Guinea coast and I expect to +sail her across. She can creep into lagoons and call at beaches the +steamers do not touch. Somebody must pull the house's vanishing trade +together and I am the head." + +"But it's a long ocean passage and an unhealthy coast," Flora remarked, +with a note of strain in her voice. Altogether she tried to be calm. + +"All the same, I must go, and go soon," Wyndham replied. + +He stopped because he knew he had said enough, and Flora pondered. She +would miss him much and his going forced her to front a crisis she would +sooner have put off. She knew he loved her and he had a strange +fascination; he stood for romance and adventure, but she was +fastidiously honest and now and then he jarred. She felt vaguely that +there was something about him she did not like. + +In the meantime, Marston and his companion came by again. The girl was a +friend of Flora's, but she passed without a glance and Flora knew she +disapproved. Somehow she wished her lover was like Bob Marston. Bob had +no fascination; indeed, he was rather dull, but he was frank and honest +and one trusted him. She knew she ought to join him and Mabel; there was +danger in stopping, but she did not go. Harry would sail at daybreak and +she would be lonely afterwards. + +Marston and the girl went on, the music stopped, and Flora heard the +drowsy splash of the tide. The moonlight sparkled on the strait and she +felt a strange longing to be rash. One missed much unless one had pluck. +Then Wyndham put his hand on her arm and gave her a long ardent look. + +"I am going away," he said. "I must go. For your sake, I must try to +mend my damaged inheritance. Will you marry me when I come back?" + +Flora hesitated until he put his arm round her and her doubts vanished. +Romance conquered and passion swept her away. She yielded when he drew +her to him, and gave back his kiss. Then he let her go as people came +towards them and they crossed the lawn. + +"My dear!" he said triumphantly. "I can conquer all my difficulties now +and make your friends approve. You have given me a power I never had; I +feel I can't be stopped." + +His eyes were very bright and he lifted his head. He looked +unconquerable and his confidence was flattering. Flora's doubts had +gone. He was her acknowledged lover and she was very staunch. + +"I must see your father when he gets back to town," Wyndham said +presently. "The committee will keep him until too late to-night." + +"Yes," said Flora with faint misgivings, "you must see him soon." + +Wyndham's eyes twinkled. "It's possible he will get a jolt. I'll own I +was half afraid; but I fear nothing now." + +"He loves me," Flora answered with a quiet look, and Wyndham said +nothing, but pressed her arm. + +They left the castle grounds for the quiet beach, and in the meantime +Mabel Hilliard and Marston leaned against the rails on the pier. For a +time the girl watched the water foam among the pillars and then looked +up. + +"Why didn't you speak to Wyndham?" she asked. + +Marston smiled. "I think the reason was plain; Harry didn't want us. Why +didn't you speak to Flora?" + +Mabel made a sign of impatience. "I wanted to, but this would have been +different. Flora wouldn't have suspected you were meddling." + +"I see," said Marston. "I'm known to be dull; but I'm not so dull that I +miss your meaning. Well, you know Harry Wyndham's my friend." + +They were lovers who used no reserve, and Mabel did not hesitate. + +"Flora's my friend," she said. "Do you always trust Wyndham?" + +"If I didn't trust him, he wouldn't be my friend." + +"In some ways, you're very nice, Bob. But I'm afraid. Flora's attracted +by Wyndham. I wish she were not." + +"Why? Don't you like Harry?" + +"It's rather that I love Flora. She's sincere and proud. She's +fastidious; I think I mean she's scrupulously honorable." + +"Then you imply that Harry is not?" Marston asked, with a touch of +sternness. + +"No, I don't altogether imply this; but I feel he is not the man for +Flora." + +"Well," said Marston quietly, "I have known Harry long. He's clever and +generous; he has pluck and when strain comes is his best. I know what +some folks think about him, and Harry knows his handicap. The Wyndhams +were rather a wild lot, the family business was drifting on the rocks, +and the character of its recent head was not good. All this is a load +for Harry, but he'll run straight, and I feel my job is to help him +out." + +Mabel was not much comforted, but she gave him a smile. + +"If he is going to marry Flora, I want you to help him," she replied. + +They went off and some time afterwards Wyndham came along the pier. The +fireworks were over and the crowd had gone, but a group of men stood +about some steps that led to a narrow stage where the yachts' boats were +moored. The tide ran fast, foaming against the iron pillars, but the +promenade above threw a dark shadow on the water. Wyndham stopped at the +steps and tried to see if _Red Rose_'s dinghy was tied among the rest. +It was too dark; all he could distinguish was a row of boats that swung +about. Then young Chisholm pushed past. + +"The weed on the steps is slippery and I'm not going down. A yachtsman +jumps into a punt," he said. + +A yacht's punt is small and generally unstable, and to jump on board +needs skill. Marston came up and seized Chisholm's shoulder. + +"Don't be a fool, Jack!" he said. "It's six or seven feet. If you don't +capsize her, you'll go through the bottom." + +"Think I can't jump six feet?" the lad exclaimed, and Wyndham imagined +he had drunk some wine at the committee supper. "Anyhow, I'll try." + +He shook off Marston's hand and leaped. His dark figure vanished and +there was a splash below. Marston and the others climbed down the steps, +but Wyndham jumped. He went under water and knew the risk he ran when +he came up; he had known when he made the plunge. The tide swept him +past the boats and broke angrily among the ironwork. One might get +entangled and pulled down, and if a punt came to help, she would +probably capsize when the current drove her against a brace. + +For a moment or two he drifted, and then saw something dark wash about +in a wedge of foam. It was Chisholm, clinging to an iron and trying to +keep his head above water. + +"Let go! I'll pick you up on the other side," shouted Wyndham, and the +current swept them under a beam. + +Then he grasped the lad's shoulder and steered him between two pillars. +The splash of oars indicated that a boat was pulling round the pier. +Wyndham's arm struck a cross-bar and next moment something caught his +leg, but he went clear and, dragging Chisholm with him, drifted into the +moonlight. He felt safe now; all they need do was to wait until the boat +arrived. They were a hundred yards from the pier when she came up and +Marston leaned over the bow. + +"Let me have him," he said. "Back her and sit steady, Tom." + +Wyndham knew he could trust Bob and let Chisholm go. Marston dragged him +on board and then balanced the boat while Wyndham lifted himself over +the stern. Chisholm did not seem much the worse, for he began to squeeze +the water from his clothes and laughed. + +"Trouble was, the punt I jumped for wasn't there," he said. "Imagine I +owe you something, Wyndham. The other fellows couldn't have got me +while I stuck to the brace, and if I'd let go, I'd have gone under the +irons." + +"That's all right!" Wyndham remarked. "You'll look before you jump +another time." + +They put Chisholm on board a steam yacht and when they reached _Red +Rose_ Marston said, "It was lucky for Jack you were about. We couldn't +have got in between the braces with the punt." + +"It was a stroke of luck for both of us," Wyndham replied with a laugh. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CHISHOLM'S PERSUASION + + +Commodore Chisholm sat in his smoking-room and knitted his brows while +Wyndham talked. The room was small and plainly furnished and the books +on the shelves were all about the sea; narratives of old explorers' +voyages, works on naval tactics, and yacht registers. Wyndham spoke fast +and with marked eagerness, and when he was moved he had a strange power +of persuasion, but now and then Chisholm frowned. Although he knew he +must give way, he hesitated. There was something romantic and, so to +speak, exotic, about Wyndham, and Chisholm liked sober English calm. + +For all that, he loved his daughter, whom he had long indulged, and knew +her mind. He had only two children, Jack and Flora, and his wife was +dead. Chisholm had loved her well and married rather late. It was for +her sake and because his pay was small he left the navy and took a post +in the service of a public navigation board. Although he held his navy +rank he was generally given his yachting title, the "Commodore." He was +scrupulously just, frank, and rather slow; a man at whom his friends +sometimes smiled but always trusted. Now he frankly wished his daughter +had chosen another lover. It was not that he disliked the fellow; he +knew his family history and what business men thought about Wyndham +Brothers. Still, it looked as if Flora was satisfied. + +"You ask me rather a hard thing," he remarked when Wyndham stopped. +"However, if Flora agrees, I suppose I cannot refuse. It's obvious I owe +you much." + +"You mean my pulling Jack out of the water? I don't want to urge this. +It was really nothing, and the lad swims well." + +"There is some risk in trying to swim through a net of iron rods when a +four-knot current runs through the holes; as I expect you knew when you +plunged. Besides, it's plain Jack was excited and a little off his +balance. The others went for a punt; you saw the real danger and steered +him through." + +Wyndham imagined Chisholm was struggling with his prejudices and trying +to be just. He had a generous vein and the Commodore's honesty moved +him. + +"My strongest argument is that I love Flora," he declared. + +"It counts for much," said Chisholm, who felt his sincerity. "Still, +there are other matters one must talk about." + +"That is so, sir," Wyndham agreed. "Well, I know I'm asking much and I'm +handicapped. I'm poor; when I took the family business I took a load of +debt and some distrust. We're not a conventional lot; we have long been +reckless and adventurous." + +He stopped for a moment, and then, while Chisholm approved his +frankness, went on: "All the same, I'm young; the house's fortunes can +be mended and its credit made good, and I have an object for putting my +heart into the job. It will be something of a struggle, sir, but I've +got a fighting chance, and with Flora's help I feel I'm going to win." + +"How do you propose to mend the house's fortunes?" Chisholm asked. + +"For a start, I've planned to visit our factories abroad, study our +trade on the spot, and turn out incompetent agents. I'll begin in West +Africa and then cross to the Caribbean. I expect to use our trading +schooner." + +Chisholm looked up, rather quickly, and Wyndham saw his interest was +roused. When one talked about boats the Commodore was keen, and +Wyndham's voyage was, so to speak, safe ground. + +"It's a long run," Chisholm remarked. + +"The slavers' road, sir," said Wyndham, who meant to lead him on. "A +slow beat against the Guinea current until one clears the windward ports +and works up to the Pambier; and then a fast reach across open water in +the North-East Trades. The early adventurers used smaller boats than +mine." + +"They pushed off from the Azores and Canaries, north of your track, and +carried the North-Easter farther across. If you get to leeward, you'll +strike the equatorial calms. But what about your boat?" + +"She's an old ninety-ton yacht, the _Columbine_, and was rather famous +once." + +"_Columbine_?" said Chisholm, who took down a yacht register. "Here she +is! Good builders, men who stuck to oak and teak. But she's thirty years +old." + +Wyndham smiled. The Commodore was getting keen; he was as enthusiastic +as a boy when he talked about the sea. + +"I understand she's pretty sound and I must use the tools I've got. Her +draught is light. We can cross river bars and get into shallow lagoons. +Our factories stand by the mangrove creeks the slavers haunted. +Wyndhams' were slavers long since." + +"An old house!" said Chisholm. "Your folks were pioneers. There's +something in a long record; habits and characteristics go with the blood +of an old stock." + +"Sometimes that has drawbacks, sir," Wyndham remarked. + +Chisholm did not follow him and Wyndham saw he was musing about the +romance of the sea. + +"But what about your crew?" the Commodore asked. + +"I expect to keep the Liberian Krooboys now on board. A half-tamed, +reckless lot, but every Krooboy's a sailor." + +"I know; fine stuff, but needs management," Chisholm agreed. "I was on +patrol along the Guinea coast--a long time since. Blazing sun, roaring +bars, steaming mangrove swamps, and sickness. For all that, there's a +fascination you get nowhere else, unless it's on the Caribbean and coast +of Brazil. The world's alike on the lines of latitude and man's morals +follow the parallels." He paused with a dreamy look and then resumed: +"I'm getting old and have my duty; but if I could, I'd go with you." + +For a time they talked about the voyage, and then, with a +half-embarrassed smile, Chisholm pulled himself up. "I'm forgetting. +There are things I ought to ask----" + +Wyndham told him how much money he had, and when Chisholm looked +thoughtful, went on: "I don't expect your consent to our marrying yet. +It's not long since I took control of the business and much depends on +the arrangements I hope to make at our factories. Things will look +better when I come back." + +"It's possible. But you do not know." + +"I really do know, sir," Wyndham declared. "You can make my ability to +put things straight a stipulation, if you like. I'm willing to be +tested. I feel I can't fail." + +Chisholm studied him for a moment or two. Wyndham's eyes sparkled; he +looked strangely forceful and resolute, and Chisholm thought he +understood why Flora had been carried away. The fellow was handsome and +romantic. Besides, he was a fine sailor, and Chisholm knew his pluck. + +"Very well," he said. "We'll let it go like that. The wedding must wait +until you come back, but I wish you luck." + +Wyndham thanked him and when he went off Chisholm pondered. Perhaps he +had agreed rather weakly; he had meant to be firmer, but Wyndham had led +him to talk about his voyage. Anyhow, the fellow had charm. It was hard +to refuse him and Chisholm had seen he was sincere. By and by he got up +and lighted his pipe. The thing was done with and he had given his +consent. Somehow he had been persuaded and after all if Flora was +satisfied---- + +Chisholm had not stipulated that nobody should be told and Flora's +friends had much to talk about. Mabel Hilliard was disturbed, and when +Marston came to her mother's house one evening took him to the garden. + +"Bob," she said, "I suppose you know Wyndham is going to marry Flora?" + +"I do know," said Marston. "In fact, I approve. Flora is nearly the +nicest girl I've met. However, I imagine you're not satisfied." + +"I am not. Flora has been my friend since we were children. I am very +fond of her and think she is quite the nicest girl you have met." + +"Bar one!" Marston interposed. + +Mabel smiled. "Oh, well, I expect your judgment's biased, Bob. But let +me go on, although it's rather awkward ground. Wyndham has charm, he's +picturesque; something of the gentleman-adventurer type. I think that's +what I mean." + +"But you don't like the type? I thought it appealed to a girl's +imagination. Anyhow, although we're getting conventionalized, there are +gentlemen-adventurers and we have jobs for them yet." + +"I am not romantic," Mabel replied, with a twinkling glance. "I like +sober men, even if they're sometimes slow; men who keep a promise but +don't protest much. One doesn't want to be dazzled. A steady light is +enough." + +Marston was silent for a moment or two. Mabel's trust moved him and he +was half embarrassed. Then he said: "There's a remark of yours I can't +let go. No ground you think you ought to venture on is awkward to us. +Very well. You don't approve Harry's marrying Flora, but what line d'you +want me to take? I can't give him up and you're not going to give up +your friend. It wouldn't be like you." + +"I want you to stick to him closer than before. Flora and he may need us +both. One feels that Wyndham's unstable, and you make good ballast, +Bob." + +"Well, I suppose I'm heavy enough and you have given me an easy job. +It's curious, but not long since I told Harry I'd see him out if he +wanted help and yesterday he hinted he'd like a partner for his voyage +South. In a way, of course, I don't want to go." + +Mabel hid her disturbance and mused. She was modern and sometimes +frivolous, but she was very staunch and loved two people well. She did +not want Bob to go and yet she thought he ought. Mabel had an +instinctive distrust for Wyndham, although she liked him. She felt that +with his temperament he would run risks in the South and he must be +protected, for Flora's sake. Flora had promised to marry Wyndham and +Mabel knew she would keep her word. Well, sober, honest Bob, who was +really cleverer than people thought, was the man to take care of him. + +"If Wyndham urges it, I must let you go," she said. + +Marston gave her a steady glance, and nodded. + +"I understand. Of course, I think your notion's ridiculous. Harry +doesn't need a fellow like me, but you mean well. Although, in one way, +I'd frankly like the trip, in another I'd much sooner stay." + +"I know," said Mabel. "You're a dear, Bob." + +Then she got up, smiling, and advanced to meet Chisholm and Flora, who +came up the garden path. + +Wyndham urged Marston to go with him, and a week or two afterwards Flora +and Mabel stood on the deck of a paddle tug crossing a busy river mouth. +The day was dull and a haze of smoke from two towns hung about the long +rows of warehouses and massive river walls. Out in the stream, a small +steamer with a black funnel and a row of white deckhouses moved seawards +with the tide. The figures grouped along her rail got indistinct, but +Flora's eyes were fixed upon two that stood away from the rest, until +they faded. Then the African boat vanished behind the towering hull of +an anchored liner. + +Flora turned and lowered her veil, for her eyes were wet. Chisholm was +on board the tug, but he was some distance off. Mabel was near, and her +look was strained. + +"In a way, it's only a long yachting trip," the latter remarked. + +"No," said Flora; "we both know it is not. It's a rash adventure; Harry +is going South, as his people all have gone, and some did not come +back." + +"Of course he'll come back! Travel's safe and easy now. They'll have no +adventures, except perhaps, at sea." + +"I'm not afraid of the sea," Flora said in a quiet voice. "It's the +tropic coast; the big muddy rivers that get lost in the forest, and the +dark lagoons among the mangrove swamps. The country's insidious; its +influence is strong." + +Mabel forced a smile. She thought Flora was not disturbed about the +physical dangers, such as fever and shipwreck. It looked as if she knew +her lover. + +"Anyhow, Bob is going with Harry, and Bob is not romantic," she +remarked. "In fact, he's the steadiest, most matter-of-fact man I know. +Nothing excites Bob much. It's very hard to carry him away." + +Flora gave her a grateful look. Since she must not criticize Harry, they +could not be altogether frank, but she saw Mabel understood. The men +they loved had very different temperaments, and Bob would be a useful +counterbalance. He was sober and practical: one could trust him. It was +hard to own that, in a sense, she could not trust Harry. He was rash, +and Flora did not like the stories about the Wyndhams who had not come +back. However, Bob was going, and she imagined she owed Mabel much. + +"I like Bob," she said. "I expect it cost you something to send him with +Harry." + +"He wanted to go." + +Flora put her hand in the other's arm. "But you might have stopped him." + +"He's Harry's friend," said Mabel. "I am yours. After all, that counts +for something, but we won't talk about it now. Your promising to marry +Harry has drawn us closer. It's an extra tie, because all Bob's friends +are mine." + +The tug's whistle shrieked as she swung across the tide to the landing +stage and Flora looked down the river. In the distance, where granite +walls and warehouses got small and indistinct, the African boat melted +into the smoke and mist. Flora felt strangely forlorn and half afraid. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE MAN WHO VANISHED + + +Moonlight glittered on the West African river and it was very hot; the +air was heavy, humid, and tainted by miasmatic vapors. Inside the lonely +factory, moisture dripped from the beams and the big bare room that +opened on the veranda smelt of mildew. Across the river, tangled +mangroves loomed through drifting mist that hid the banks of mud about +their long, arched roots. Wyndham's schooner, _Columbine_, rode in +midstream, her tall masts and the graceful sweep of her rail cutting +black against the silver light. Somebody on board was singing a Kroo +paddling song with a strange monotonous air. In the distance one heard +the rumble of heavy surf. + +The factory was old and ruinous and the agent's hair was going white. He +sat opposite Wyndham, at the end of a table about which documents were +scattered; a cocktail jug and some glasses occupied the middle. Ellams +was haggard and his skin was a jaundiced yellow. Marston lounged in a +deck chair, with the perspiration running down his face, and smoked a +cigarette. + +"I think I have told you all you want to know, and I'm willing to give +up my post," Ellams remarked. "Indeed, I'm beginning to feel I'm too old +for the job. Few white men have lived as long in the fever swamps; as a +rule an agent's run was very short when I first came out. We didn't +bother about mosquitoes then. The tropical-diseases people hadn't +discovered the mischievous habits of _anopheles_." + +"You were here with my uncle, I think?" said Wyndham. + +"I was with him for a year or two," Ellams answered, in a reminiscent +tone. "A strange man, in some ways! I expect it's long since you saw +him?" + +"He came to England when I was a boy." + +Ellams smiled. "When I saw you cross the compound, I thought Rupert +Wyndham had come back. Wait a moment; I have his portrait." + +He brought a faded and mildewed photograph. Wyndham studied it, without +speaking, and then gave it to Marston, who made a little gesture of +surprise. He imagined Rupert Wyndham was about his comrade's age when +the portrait was taken, and the likeness was strange. There was in both +faces a hint of recklessness and unrest, although the hint was plainer +in the portrait. It indicated that Rupert would venture much and take +paths sober men did not tread. Somehow it disturbed Marston. + +"I suppose you know he vanished in the West Indies?" Wyndham remarked. + +"Yes," said Ellams quietly. "I half expected something like this----" + +"Ah!" said Wyndham. "Well, we've done with business for to-night. Tell +me about my uncle." + +Ellams drained his glass and Marston noted that his hand shook. The man +had obviously suffered much from ague and fever. + +"Rupert Wyndham was here before me," Ellams began. "Procter was agent +when he arrived and Procter had got some native habits. That's a risk +men who indulge their curiosity run in Africa. There's danger of +forgetting one is white. I imagine it was unlucky Rupert began with +Procter; his was a strange, adventurous temperament----" + +"I'm told I have some of Rupert's characteristics," Wyndham remarked. +"But go on." + +"When your uncle came out, there was no rule but the negro headman's. +British authority stopped a few miles from the outpost stockade, and +traders made their own laws; they lived and drank hard. In some ways, +things are not very different yet. We kill mosquitoes and dig drains, +but Africa doesn't change. + +"Well, Procter had gone the way some white men go, and when he died your +uncle got a jar. Rupert had only known England and he was young, but I +don't mean he was daunted. Rather he lost his balance and started on a +line he ought to have left alone. Sometimes he talked about the thing. I +suspect he knew the Leopards killed Procter." + +"The _Leopards_?" Marston interrupted. + +"The Ghost Leopards, a secret society. In this country, there are a +number, run by the Ju-Ju priests. They're supposed to use magic, but +they're a power in native politics and have given the British government +trouble. Perhaps the Leopards are the strongest. The bushmen believe +they can take the form of the animals, and when they like make +themselves invisible. Anyhow, the headman they don't approve seldom +rules very long----" + +Ellams paused for a few moments and resumed: "It was a hot night when +Rupert Wyndham thought he heard Procter call. He said his voice was +choked and faint. He got up; he occupied the room yonder--" Ellams +indicated a door opposite and went on: "There was no light, but the moon +shone through the window behind us. Rupert had only been awake a few +moments and heard nothing but the faint cry. He ran out in his pyjamas +and found Procter on the floor. Procter's body was warm, but when +Wyndham tried to lift him he saw he was dead. He lay across the cracked +board where Mr. Marston sits." + +Marston half-consciously pushed back his chair. "But what indicated the +Leopards?" + +"There were strange marks on Procter's throat. Wyndham thought they +looked like the marks of claws." + +Marston pondered while Ellams filled his glass. He pictured the huddled +figure in pyjamas lying across the rotten boards, and the marks on the +throat. As a rule his nerve was good, but the picture daunted him and he +did not like his comrade's strange, fixed look. In a sense, the story +was ridiculous; that is, it would have looked ridiculous in England, but +Africa was different. Theatrical tragedy was not strange there, and he +did not think Ellams had exaggerated much. + +"Well," said the latter, "in the morning Wyndham found the factory boys +had gone. He was alone with Procter and could get no help; besides, he +had a dose of fever and when malaria grips you, your imagination works. +He said perhaps the worst was the quietness and the buzzing of the +flies. He dug a grave, but could not get Procter down the steps; fever +makes one very limp, you know. Well, he sat there all day, keeping the +flies off Procter, and in the evening a Millers' launch came up stream." + +"A ghastly day!" said Marston, but Wyndham signed to Ellams. + +"You haven't told it all. Go on." + +"I'm an old servant and you're the head of the house," Ellams replied +meaningly. "Well, I think that day left a mark on Rupert Wyndham. When I +arrived he was moody and often brooded, but it looked as if he had a +talent for managing the bushmen. They seemed to understand him and the +business was growing fast. He began to go up river, although I imagine +no other trader had reached the native market then. It was good for +business; our oil was first quality and we got stuff, skins and +sometimes ivory, Millers' and the Association couldn't buy. Besides, +there were bits of pottery, brass, and silver work, the Fulah brought +across the desert. Wyndham said the patterns were Sarascenic and the +stuff was hundreds of years old. The house knew where to sell the goods +at home. Once or twice we got Aggri beads." + +"I didn't know about that," Wyndham remarked and turned to Marston. "In +Africa, Aggri beads are worth almost any price you like to ask. We can't +imitate them and don't know how they are made. It's very rare for a +negro headman to let an Aggri go." + +Ellams made a sign of agreement, and gave Wyndham an apologetic glance. +"You see what this implies?" + +"I think I see. My uncle was getting native habits; he was getting an +influence----" + +"He stopped away from the factory longer. Men with tattoo marks I +didn't know came down and talked to him, and sometimes brought no trade. +I thought he ran risks and warned him, but he laughed. It went on, and +we were getting rich when the change began. Our trade did not fall off +much, but one felt a difference----" + +Ellams paused, and looked thoughtful when he resumed: "I can't +altogether make things plain; there was a feeling of insecurity, and +Wyndham's moodiness got worse. He did not go away so much, and locked +his room door at night. I think he did not sleep and took some draught; +not drugs white men use, but stuff the negroes make. When he did sleep, +he was strangely hard to rouse. He was cool and as nearly fearless as +any man I knew, but he began to look haggard and start at unexpected +sounds. One morning I could not wake him and went round to the veranda +window. Wyndham was fast asleep and a gun lay across his bed. He was a +good shot with a pistol, but this was a heavy duck-gun that threw an +ounce and a quarter of shot. Well, I was getting nervy, and the factory +boys would not stop--it looked as if they knew something was wrong. I +began to wonder how long Wyndham could keep it up." + +The others were quiet when Ellams reached for the cocktail jug and +finding it empty filled his pipe. Marston had spent some weeks on the +African coast and sympathized with the agent. When one had seen the +country and breathed the foul miasma that saps the white man's strength, +one could understand the strain Ellams talked about. It was a daunting +country and the gloom of its steamy forests was the shadow of death. + +"After all," said Ellams, "there was no theatrical climax. One day a +launch brought us a cablegram. Wyndham was wanted at home, the ebb tide +was running and a mailboat was due to call at Takana lagoon. In an hour +_Columbine_ dropped down stream and my notion is it was a relief to +Wyndham the cablegram arrived. If it had not arrived, he would have +stayed. He was that kind of man." + +"Had you trouble afterwards?" Marston asked. + +"I had not. It was as if a shadow had melted. The strain had gone." + +"Then it looks as if my uncle, alone, were threatened." Wyndham +remarked. + +Ellams nodded. "Yes. I think it was, so to speak, a personal thing. For +all that, our trade got slack and has not since touched the mark it +reached in your uncle's time. Well, I think that's all, and perhaps I +have talked too much." + +"If you'll mix another cocktail, we'll go to bed," Wyndham replied and +when, a few minutes afterwards, he went to his room stopped at the door. + +"This is where Rupert Wyndham slept with the gun beside him, I suppose?" +he said. "I wonder what he dreamed about!" + +For some time Marston did not sleep. As a rule, he did not indulge his +imagination, but he had been disturbed by the agent's tale and there +were strange noises. Some he thought were made by cracking boards and +falling damp; others puzzled him and he found them daunting in the dark. +They were like footsteps, as if somebody stole about the rooms. Marston +had had enough of Africa and yet he owned the country had a mysterious +charm. White men stayed, knowing the risk they ran and without much +hope of money reward, until they died of fever or their minds got +deranged. The latter happened now and then. In order to keep sane, one +must concentrate on one's business and refuse to speculate about the +secret life of the bush. After all, there was much to speculate +about---- + +Marston pulled himself up. He was a sober white man and had nothing to +do with the negro's fantastic superstitions. Magic and witchcraft were +ridiculous, but in a country where they were a ruling force it was not +easy to laugh. He thought Rupert Wyndham had made rash experiments and +had dared too much, and although this was perhaps not important, Harry +had his uncle's temperament. The trouble was there. Still they would +leave the river soon and it would be a relief to go to sea. The sea was +clean and bracing. + +Three or four days afterwards _Columbine_ dropped down stream on the +ebb. A big naked Krooboy held the wheel, another in the fore-channels +swung the lead and called the depth in a musical voice. The white +factory got indistinct and melted into the swamps, the puffs of wind +were fresher, and Marston was conscious of a keen satisfaction as the +dreary mangroves slipped astern and yellow sand and lines of foam came +into view ahead. + +Wyndham, smoking a cigarette, leaned against the rail. He wore white +duck without a crease and a big pale-gray hat. Marston thought he looked +very English, with his keen blue eyes, light hair, and red skin, but his +gaze was contemplative. + +"You're not sorry to get away?" he presently remarked. "I wonder +whether Rupert Wyndham was." + +"I wonder why he stayed," said Marston. "Unless, of course, he was +earning money." + +"A plausible explanation, but I'm not sure it's good," Wyndham replied +with a smile. "The head of our house was often extravagant but never, I +think, a miser. We're not a greedy lot." + +"You were traders; the object of trading is to get rich." + +"I doubt if this was my uncle's, or some of my other ancestors' object, +I think they valued money for what it would buy. Anyhow, they seldom +kept it long." + +"Since most of us value money for what it will buy, I don't understand," +Marston rejoined. + +"You bought a country house, a sober sportsman's life, and the liking of +honest friends. Well, your investments were sound, but there are men of +other temperaments they mightn't satisfy. I don't think they would have +satisfied Rupert Wyndham." + +"Then what did he expect to get in the swamps?" + +"I don't know," said Wyndham, with a curious smile. "Perhaps strange +experiences; perhaps knowledge and power. I imagine he knew he must buy +them and was willing to pay." + +"Power over tattooed bushmen!" Marston exclaimed. "What could they teach +him?" + +"Things we have begun to experiment with and their Ju-Ju men knew long +since. The white man who knows the meaning of their tattoo marks has +gone some distance; they're not all tribal signs. However, I don't know +what Rupert Wyndham learned and it looks as if I shall not find out. +Our object's very matter of fact; to earn as much money as possible." + +"That is so. I mean to stick to it," said Marston firmly. + +Wyndham laughed. "I expect you mean to see I take your line! Well, it's +a good line. But we're getting near the bar. Suppose you fetch the +chart?" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE TORNADO + + +The night was hot and nearly calm, and Marston, sitting on the cabin +skylight, languidly looked about. A Krooboy held the wheel, and his dark +figure cut against the phosphorescent sea. _Columbine_'s bulwarks were +low and when she rolled the long, smooth swell ran level with their top. +A dim glow came from the compass binnacle, but the schooner was +close-hauled and the Kroo steered by the faint strain on the helm. The +wind was light and baffling and _Columbine_ beat against it as she +worked along the coast. + +She carried all her canvas and her high gaff-topsail swung rhythmically +across the sky, shutting out the stars. Her dark mainsail looked very +big and every now and then shook down a shower of dew as its slack +curves swelled. A small moon touched the tops of the undulations with +silver light, and when the bows went down the foam that leaped about the +planks glimmered with green and gold. Booms and blocks rattled and +timbers groaned. + +Marston could not see the land, which was hidden by the sour, hot mist +that at sunset rolls off the African coast. He did not want to see it; +he hoped he had done with Africa, but he doubted. _Columbine_ was on the +track the keels of the old slavers plowed, and he felt that the shadow +of the dark country might follow him across the sea. Long since, Africa +had peopled South America and the West Indies; Wyndham's ancestors had +helped in that. One found mangrove swamps, fever, and negro superstition +on the Caribbean coast, and it was significant that Rupert Wyndham had +vanished there. The trouble was Harry had inherited something of his +uncle's temperament. All the same, Marston had undertaken to stand by +him and meant to do so. + +The breeze got lighter, the wet canvas flapped, and _Columbine_ hardly +made steerage way. She rolled until her bulwarks touched the water and +threw off fiery foam. One could not stand on her slanted deck, and +blocks and spars made a hideous din. In the distance, the roar of surf +rose and fell with a measured beat. Somewhere in the mist the big +combers crashed upon a hammered beach. It did not matter if there was +wind or not; the white band of surf had fringed the coast since the +world was young. + +Marston found his watch dreary. There was nothing to do; nothing, that +he could see, threatened, and the scattered light clouds hardly moved +across the sky. He was filling his pipe when he heard a step and saw +Wyndham by the wheel. He knew him by his white duck; the negro crew did +not wear much clothes. + +"Hallo!" he said. "My watch is not up." + +"I was awake," Wyndham replied. "Felt I ought to get on deck. The glass +is falling." + +"Did you feel you ought to come _after_ you noted this?" + +"Before," said Wyndham, dryly. "I didn't know the glass had dropped +until I got a light, but it looks as if I might have stayed below. +However, since I have turned out, we'll haul down the main-topsail." + +He gave an order and two Krooboys got to work. There was no obvious +reason for lowering the sail, but when Wyndham ordered the negroes +obeyed. Although they grinned with frank good-humor when Marston talked +to them, he knew he did not share Wyndham's authority. Yet Harry was not +harsh. + +When the sail was lowered Wyndham looked about. Some of the scattered +clouds had rolled together and the sky was black over the land. One +could scarcely feel the light wind, but the surf had got louder. Its +roar came out of the dark as if heavy trains were running along the +coast. + +"It looks ridiculous, particularly since I'd like to edge her farther +off the beach, but I think we'll stow the mainsail and fore-staysail," +Wyndham remarked. + +Marston agreed. Although he could see no grounds for shortening sail, he +trusted Wyndham's judgment, and the Krooboys got to work again. The +ropes, however, were stiff and swollen with the dew, and the mainsail +came down slowly. The heavy folds of canvas caught between the +topping-lifts; the gaff-jaws jambed on the mast. Wyndham sent a man +aloft to sit upon and ride down the spar, but this did not help much, +and the boom along the foot of the sail lurched with violent jerks. +Blocks banged and loose ropes whipped across the deck. The sweat ran +down Marston's face; he wanted to finish the job. For one thing, +_Columbine_ was unmanageable while the half-lowered canvas flapped +about. + +Stopping a moment for breath, he glanced over the rail. The long swell +sparkled with small points of light that coalesced in sheets of green +flame when the undulations broke against the schooner's side. The deck +was spangled with luminous patches by the splashes and the wake that +trailed astern was bright. _Columbine_ stole through the water although +the wind had nearly gone. It was not worth while to bring her head-to +when they shortened sail. + +Then the helmsman shouted and Marston felt one side of his face and body +cool. The loose canvas flapped noisily. Its folds shook out and swelled, +and Marston seized a rope. His skin prickled; he felt a strange tension +and a feverish desire to drag down the sticking gaff. A few moments +afterwards, something flickered behind the sail and a peal of thunder +drowned the noise on board. When it died away, rolling hull, slanted +masts, and the figures of the men stood out, wonderfully sharp, against +a dazzling blaze that vanished and left bewildering dark. The next peal +of thunder deafened Marston, who thought Wyndham shouted but heard no +words. This did not matter, because he knew they must secure the sail +before the tornado broke, and he pulled at the downhaul. He could not +hear the wind for the thunder, but it had begun to blow. + +The sail swelled between the confining ropes, there was a noise on one +side of the yacht, water foamed along the planks, and she began to +swing. It looked as if the steersman were putting up the helm. The peak +of the gaff was nearly down; with another good pull they could seize it +and lash it to the boom. Then a dazzling flash touched the deck. Marston +saw Wyndham run aft and push the Kroo from the wheel, but this was the +last he saw clearly for sometime. He imagined the fellow had meant to +run the yacht off before the squall; one could ease the strain of a +sudden blast like that, but if the squall lasted, they could not shorten +sail while she was before the wind. Now she was coming round. Wyndham +had put the helm down. It looked as if he were too late. + +The tornado broke upon her side and she went over until her lee rail was +in the sea. There was a noise like a thunder-clap forward as a sail blew +away; Marston thought it was the jib. He could see nothing. It had got +impenetrably dark, but he had a vague notion that water rushed along the +deck and the mainsail had broken loose and blown out between the ropes. +Unless they could master it, the mast would go. He heard another report +forward and thought somebody had loosed the staysail halyards and the +sail had blown to rags. Although his eyes were useless, he knew what was +going on. + +But they must secure the main gaff, and clutching at the boom above his +head, he swung himself up and worked along to its outer end, which +stretched over the stern. A footrope ran below the spar; one could +balance oneself by its help and he vaguely distinguished somebody close +by. It was, no doubt, Wyndham, because his clothes looked white. There +was no use in shouting. The uproar drowned one's voice; besides, their +job was plain. They must get a rope round the end of the gaff and lash +it fast. + +Marston's waist was on the boom; his feet stuck out behind him, braced +against the rope. In front there was a dark gulf. This was, no doubt, +the hollow of the sail, and the indistinct slanting line above was the +gaff. He threw a rope across the latter, but the end did not drop, so +that he could seize it under the sail; the wind blew it out, straight +and tight. He tried again, farther aft, jostling against the figure that +looked faintly white, and leaning down across the boom, caught the end +of the rope. The other man helped him and when they had got a loop round +the end of the gaff he stopped for breath. He was shaky after the +effort, his heart thumped painfully, and his chest rose and fell. He +imagined other men were on the boom, but he and his companion were all +that mattered. They must lash the peak down before the sail blew out +again. When this was done, the others could master the distended folds. + +The wet rope tore his hands; he felt them get slippery with blood, but +he held on and the man beside him helped. Marston knew he was not a +Kroo. The Kroos were bold sailors, but their resolution had a limit. +When a job looked hopeless they gave up; the man beside Marston was +another type. While there was breath in his body he would stick to his +task. The sail must be conquered. + +Lightning played about them and Marston's eyes were dazzled by the +changes from intolerable glare to dark. He trusted to the feel of things +and his seaman's knowledge of what was happening. He did not think, but +worked half-consciously. They made the gaff fast, and then something +broke and the heavy boom swung out over the sea. The jerk threw +Marston's feet from the rope and his body began to slip off the boom. He +saw fiery foam below, but as he braced himself for the plunge the next +man seized him. It looked as if they must both slip off, for Marston +found no hold for his hands on the smooth, wet spar. Perhaps the +pressure of the wind saved them by forcing their limp bodies against +the boom, for the other man steadied Marston until his foot touched the +rope again. + +For a moment or two they hung on, not daring to move and waiting until +they gathered strength. Then they carefully worked their way to the +inner end of the spar and dropped, exhausted, on the deck. There was +however, no rest for them. The massive boom must be dragged back and +dropped into its crutch. It could not be left to lurch about and smash +all it struck. Marston was vaguely conscious that a gang of Krooboys ran +to the mainsheet and Wyndham directed their efforts. He, himself, could +do no more, and he leaned against the rail, breathing hard. + +As his exhaustion vanished he began to note things. The men had secured +the boom; but the schooner's bows looked bare and he remembered the jibs +had blown away. The foresail was torn and half-lowered, and the gaff at +its head was jambed. The torn canvas kept the vessel from falling off +the wind, but would not bring her up enough for her to lie to. Masts and +deck were horribly slanted, the windward bulwark was hove high up, and +luminous spray drove across its top. It looked as if she were going over +and there was an appalling din, for the scream of the tornado pierced +the thunder. + +Then lightning enveloped the yacht and ran along the water. For an +instant Marston saw Wyndham's white figure at the wheel, and then he +groped his way towards him in the puzzling dark. Harry would need help, +for Marston knew what he meant to do. Since _Columbine_ would not come +up, he was going to run her off before the wind in order to ease the +horrible pressure that bore her down. The trouble was, the tornado blew +from sea, and land was near. Marston seized the wheel, and using all his +strength, helped Wyndham to pull it round. She felt her rudder and began +to swing, lifting her lee rail out of the water. Then she came nearly +upright with a jerk, and although the tornado was deafening, Marston +thought he heard the water roar as it leaped against her bows. + +The speed she made lifted her forward and a white wave curled abreast of +the rigging. She was going like a train and Marston sweated and gasped +as he helped at the wheel. There was nothing to do but let her run, +although it was obvious she could not run long. A glance at the lighted +compass indicated that she was heading for the land, where angry surf +beat upon an inhospitable beach. If they tried to bring her round, the +masts would go and she might capsize. + +She drove on and presently the thunder stopped. Rain that fell in sheets +swept the deck and beat their clothes against their skin. One heard +nothing but the roar of the deluge and the darkness could not be +pierced. After a few minutes Marston felt the strain on the wheel get +easier and lost the sense of speed. The deck did not seem to be lifted +forward and he thought the bows had resumed their proper level. When he +turned his head the rain no longer lashed his face, the foresail +flapped, and the straining, rattling noises began again. It looked as if +the wind had suddenly got light. + +"Let's bring her round," he shouted and heard his voice hoarse and loud. + +Wyndham signed agreement, they turned the wheel, and the crew ran about +the deck. She came round and a few minutes afterwards headed out to sea, +lurching slowly across the swell that now rolled and broke with crests +of foam. The sky had cleared, but not far off an ominous rumble came out +of the gloom astern. + +"We'll wait for daybreak before we make sail," Wyndham remarked. "You +can get below. My watch has begun." + +"I suppose you were with me on the boom?" + +"I was on the boom," said Wyndham. "Somebody else was near." + +"Do you imply you didn't know whom it was when you held me up?" + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham, laughing, "it's not important. Suppose I had +grabbed a Krooboy who was falling? Do you imagine I ought to have let +him go? Anyhow, we helped each other. I don't expect I'd have reached +the deck if I had been alone." + +Marston said no more. One felt some reserve when one talked about things +like that. He looked to windward, and seeing the night was calm, went +below. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MIDDLE PASSAGE + + +Marston lounged with languid satisfaction on a locker in the stern +cabin. He had borne some strain and his body felt strangely slack +although his brain was active. The cabin was small and very plain, +because the yacht had been altered below decks when she was fitted for +carrying cargo. Moisture trickled down the matchboarded ceiling, big +warm drops fell from the beams, and a brass lamp swung about as she +rolled. Marston, however, knew this was an illusion; the beams moved but +the lamp was still. + +There were confused noises. Water washed about inside the lurching hull, +although a sharp clank overhead indicated that somebody was occupied at +the pump; water gurgled, with a noise like rolling gravel, outside the +planks. Timbers groaned, a seam in the matchboarding opened and shut, +and a dull concussion shook the boat when her bows plunged into the +swell. The swell was high, although the wind had dropped. Marston knew +these noises and found them soothing. They belonged to the sea, and he +loved the sea, although he had not long since fought it for his life. +Now the strain was over, he felt the struggle with the tornado had +braced and steadied him. + +In the tropics, it was the land he did not like. Perhaps he was getting +morbid, for after all he had not seen much of the African coast and yet +it frankly daunted him. His confused recollections were like a bad +dream; muddy lagoons surrounded by dreary mangroves from which the +miasma stole at night, hot and steamy forests where mysterious dangers +lurked, and rotting damp factories from which the burning sun could not +drive the shadow that weighed the white man down. Marston was not +imaginative, but he had felt the gloom. + +He pondered about it curiously. The shadow was, so to speak, impalpable; +vague yet sinister. Now and then white men rebelled against it with +noisy revels, but when the liquor was out the gloom crept back and some +drank again until they died. Yet the coast had a subtle charm, against +which it was prudent to steel oneself. The shadow was a reflection of +the deeper gloom in which the naked bushmen moved and served the powers +that rule the dark. + +Fever-worn traders declared there were such powers. One heard strange +stories that the men who told them obviously believed. It looked as if +the Ju-Ju magicians were not altogether impostors; they knew things the +white man did not and by this knowledge ruled. Their rule was owned and +firm. Marston had thought it ridiculous, but now he doubted. There was +something behind the hocus-pocus; something that moved one's curiosity +and tempted one to rash experiment. Marston knew this was what he +feared. Harry was rash and had rather felt the fascination than the +gloom. + +Marston banished his disturbing thoughts and began to muse about their +struggle with the sail. Harry was a normal, healthy white man then. It +was rather his sailor's instincts than conscious resolution that led +him to keep up the fight when it looked as if he must be thrown off the +boom. He would have been thrown off before he owned he was beaten. One +did things like that at sea, because they must be done, and did not +think them fine. Marston reviewed the fight, remembering his terror when +he slipped and how his confidence returned after Harry seized his arm. +The thought of the lonely plunge had daunted him; it was different when +he knew he would not plunge alone. If Harry and he could not reach the +deck, they would drop into the dark together. That was all, but it meant +much. For one thing, it meant that Marston must go where his comrade +went, although he might not like the path. In the meantime he was tired +and got into his bunk. + +When he went on deck in the morning the breeze was fresh and _Columbine_ +drove through the water under all plain sail, for they had some spare +canvas on board. The sky was clear and the sun sparkled on the foam that +leaped about the bows and ran astern in a broad white wake. The old boat +was fast and there was something exhilarating in her buoyant lift and +roll. Marston and Wyndham got breakfast under an awning on deck. Wyndham +wore thin white clothes and a silk belt. His skin was burned a dark red +and his keen blue eyes sparkled. One saw the graceful lines of his +muscular figure; he looked alert and virile. + +"You're fresh enough this morning," Marston remarked. "My back is sore +and my arms ache. It was a pretty big strain to secure the gaff." + +Wyndham laughed. "If the sail had blown away from us, the mast would +have gone and the boat have drifted into the surf." + +"I suppose we knew this unconsciously. Anyhow, I didn't argue about the +thing." + +"You held on," said Wyndham. "Well, I expect it's an example of an +instinct men developed when they used the old sailing ships. They must +beat the sea or drown, and sometimes the safety of all depended on the +nerve of one. I expect it led to a kind of class-conscientiousness. The +common need produced a code." + +"The instinct's good. Somehow, all you learn at sea is good; I mean, +it's morally bracing." + +Wyndham smiled and indicated a faint dark line that melted into the +horizon on the starboard hand. + +"It's different in Africa, for example?" + +"Oh, well," said Marston cautiously, "Africa has drawbacks, but if you +don't get fever and are satisfied to look at things on the surface, you +might stay there sometime and not get much harm." + +Wyndham saw Marston meant to warn him and was amused. Bob was rather +obvious, but he was sincere. + +"Suppose you're not satisfied with things as they look on the surface +and want to find out what they are beneath?" he asked. + +"Then I think you ought to clear out and go back to the North." + +"A simple plan! As a rule, your plans are simple. I'm curious, however, +and sometimes like to indulge my curiosity. It's easily excited in +Africa. There is much the white man doesn't know; he's hardly begun to +grasp the negro's point of view." + +"The negro has no point of view. He gropes in the dark." + +"I doubt it," said Wyndham thoughtfully. "I rather imagine he sees a +light, but perhaps not the light we know. There's a rude order in his +country and men with knowledge rule. The Leopards, the Ghost Crocodiles, +and the other strange societies don't hold power for nothing. Power +that's felt has some foundation." + +"You like power," Marston remarked. + +Wyndham smiled and looked about while he felt for another cigarette. +_Columbine_, swaying rhythmically to the heave of the swell, drove +through the sparkling water with a shower of spray blowing across her +weather bow. Her tall canvas gleamed against the blue sky. A Krooboy +lounged at the wheel, the most part of his muscular body naked and a +broad blue stripe running down his forehead. Two or three more squatted +in the shade of a sail. At the galley door the cook sang a monotonous +African song. The wire shrouds hummed like harpstrings, striking notes +that changed with the tension as the vessel rolled. There was nothing to +do but lounge and talk and Wyndham's mood was confidential. + +"I have not known much power," he said. "In England, power must be +bought. My father was poor but careless; my mother was sternly +conventional. When he died she tried to turn my feet into the regular, +beaten path. I know now she was afraid I would follow my ancestors' +wandering steps. Well, at school, I had the smallest allowance among the +boys, and learned to plot for things my comrades enjoyed. As a rule, I +got the things. I don't know if the effort was good or not, but I was +ambitious and wanted a leading place. Folks like you don't know what it +costs to hold one's ground." + +"I expect I got things easily," Marston agreed. "Perhaps this was lucky, +because I've no particular talent." + +"You have one talent that is worth all mine," Wyndham rejoined with some +feeling. "People trust you, Bob." + +Marston colored, but Wyndham went on: "When I left school and went to +Wyndhams' there was not much change. For the most part, my friends were +rich, and I had a clerk's pay, with a vague understanding that at some +far off time I might be the head of the house. The house was obviously +tottering; I did not think it would stand until I got control. My uncle, +Rupert's brother, would not see. Wyndhams' had stood so long he felt it +was self-supporting and would stand. Well, he was kind, and I'm glad he +died without knowing how near we really were to a fall. + +"However, I didn't mean to talk about the house, but rather about my +life when I was a shipping clerk. I had ambition and thought I had +talent; I hated to be left behind by my friends. It cost much planning +to share their amusements, join a good yacht club, and race my boat. +Sportsmen like you don't know the small tricks and shabbiness we others +are forced to use. Well, at length my uncle died and I got control of +the falling house, with its load of debt. I'd long been rash, but the +rashest thing I did was when I fell in love with Flora. Yet she loved +me, and Chisholm, with some reserves, has given his consent. I have got +to satisfy him and with this in view, we're bound for the Caribbean on +board a thirty-year-old yacht." + +Marston thought Wyndham did not look daunted. In a sense, his venture +was reckless, but Harry tried, and did, things others thought beyond +their powers. On the whole Marston imagined his boldness was justified. + +"If money can help, you know where it can be got," he said. + +Wyndham's half-ironical glance softened. + +"Thanks, Bob! So far, I haven't gone begging from my friends; but if I +can use your money without much risk, I will borrow. I think you know +this." + +"What's mine is yours," Marston remarked and went to the cabin for a +chart, with which he occupied himself. + +He studied the chart and sailing directions when he had nothing to do +and was rather surprised that Wyndham did not. It was a long run to the +Caribbean and would be longer if they drifted into the equatorial calms. +Marston had a yacht master's certificate, although he was rather a +seaman than a navigator. He could find his way along the coast by +compass and patent-log, but to steer an ocean course was another thing. +One must be exact when one calculated one's position by the height of +the sun and stars. + +For some time they made good progress and then the light wind dropped +and _Columbine_ rolled about in a glassy calm. The swell ran in long +undulations that shone with reflected light, and there was no shade, for +they lowered all sail to save the canvas from burning and chafing. The +sun pierced the awning, and it was intolerably hot. They had reached the +dangerous part of the old slavers' track; the belt of stagnant ocean +where the south wind stopped and the north-east had not begun. The belt +had been marked long since by horrors worse than wreck, for while the +crowded brigs and schooners drifted under the burning sun, fresh water +ran out and white men got crazed with rum while negroes died from +thirst. + +Wyndham lounged one morning under the awning after his bath. He wore +silk pyjamas, a red silk belt, and a wide hat of double felt. He looked +cool and Marston thought he harmonized with his surroundings; the +background of dazzling water, the slanted masts that caught the light as +they swung, and the oily black figures of the naked crew. He wondered +whether Harry had inherited something from ancestors who had known the +tragedies of the middle passage. Marston himself was wet with sweat, his +eyes ached, and his head felt full of blood. + +"We may drift about for some time," he said, throwing down a book he had +tried to read. "The sailing directions indicate that the Trades are +variable near their southern limit." + +"It's a matter of luck," Wyndham agreed, and Marston started because his +comrade's next remark chimed with his thoughts. "When I studied some of +the house's old records I found that two of our brigs vanished in the +calm belt. One wondered how they went. Fire perhaps, or the slaves broke +the hatch at night. Can't you picture their pouring out like ants and +bearing down the drunken crew? The crews did drink; slaving was not a +business for sober men. Hogsheads of rum figure in our old victualing +bills." + +He paused and resumed with a hard smile: "Well, it was a devilish trade. +One might speculate whether the responsibility died with the men +engaged in it and vanished with the money they earned. None of the +Wyndhams seem to have kept money long; luck went hard against them. When +they did not squander, misfortune dogged the house." + +"Superstition!" Marston exclaimed. + +Wyndham laughed. "It's possible, but superstition's common and all men +are not fools. I expect their fantastic imaginings hold a seed of truth. +Perhaps somebody here and there finds the seed and makes it grow." + +"In Africa, they water the soil with blood. It's not a white man's +gardening." Marston rejoined and went forward to the bows, but got no +comfort there. + +The sea shone like polished steel, heaving in long folds without a +wrinkle on its oily surface. But for the sluggish rise and fall, one +might have imagined no wind had blown since the world was young. + +For a week _Columbine_ rolled about, and then one morning faint blue +lines ran across the sea to the north. Gasping and sweating with the +effort, they hoisted sail and sent up the biggest topsail drenched with +salt water. Sometimes it and the light balloon jib filled and although +the lower canvas would not draw, _Columbine_ began to move. One could +not feel her progress, there was no strain on the helm, but silky +ripples left her side and slowly trailed astern. + +For all that, she went the wrong way, heading south into the calm, and +they could not bring her round. Her rudder had no grip when they turned +the wheel, and sometimes she stopped for an hour and then crawled on +again. The Krooboys panted in the shade of the shaking sails, and +Marston groaned and swore when he took his glasses and slackly climbed +the rigging. The dark-blue lines were plainer, three or four miles off, +and he thought they marked the edge of the Trade-breeze. + +Wyndham alone looked unmoved; he lay in a canvas chair under the awning, +and smoked and seemed to dream. Marston wondered what he dreamed about +and hoped it was Flora. In the afternoon Marston felt he must find some +relief. + +"I want to launch a boat and tow her," he said. "There's wind enough not +far off to keep her steering." + +Wyndham nodded. "Very well. It's recorded that they towed the +_Providence_ for three days and used up a dozen negroes in the boats, +besides some gallons of rum. The fellow who kept the log was obviously +methodical. However, I want to keep our boys, and you can't tow in the +sun." + +"It's unthinkable," Marston agreed. "We'll begin at dark." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE TOW + + +At sunset they hoisted out two boats, for wages are low in Africa and +_Columbine_ carried a big crew. Wyndham stopped on board to steer while +Marston went in the gig, and the sun touched the horizon when he began +to uncoil a heavy warp. He was only occupied for a few minutes but when +he had finished it was dark. The relief from the glare was soothing and +the gloom was marked by a mistiness that gave him hope. He knew a faint +haze often follows the North-East Trades. + +The Krooboys dipped the oars, and the water glimmered with luminous +spangles under the blades and fell like drops of liquid fire. This was +all the light, except for the sparkle at _Columbine_'s bows as she +slowly forged ahead. She came on, towering above the boats in a vague +dark mass, until she sank with the swell and the tightening rope jerked +them rudely back. On heaving water, towing a large vessel is strenuous +work, for her progress is a series of plunges and one cannot keep an +even strain on the rope. + +When they began to row Marston's boat was drawn back under the yacht's +iron martingale. Her bowsprit loomed above it, threatening and big, and +the oars bent as the Kroos drove the boat ahead. In a few moments she +stopped and forged back towards the yacht, but the jerk was less +violent. _Columbine_ was moving faster and the heavy warp worked like a +spring, easing the shock. Marston's business, however, was to tow her +round and when she began to turn he had trouble to keep his boat in +line. The tightening rope rasped across her stern, the gig swerved and +listed over, until it looked as if she would capsize. The oars on one +side were buried deep, the men could not clear them for another stroke, +and the threatening martingale rose and fell close astern. + +Marston, when the rope would let him, sculled with a long oar, and +presently the skin peeled from his hands. His throat got parched, sweat +ran down his face and he gasped with straining breath, but it was better +to use his strength than risk the martingale's being driven into his +back. They pulled her round and it was easier afterwards although he +could not relax much. The yacht was stealing through the water, but they +must keep up her speed or the violent jerks would begin again. It was +only possible to rest for a moment on the crest of the swell when the +warp absorbed the backward pull. + +A negro began to sing and the rest took up the chorus. The air was +strange and dreary but somehow musical, and Marston imagined it was very +old. He understood the Kroos had sung their paddling chanties long +before the Elizabethan slavers touched the fever-coast. The night was +very calm and dark. The figures of the men were indistinct, but when the +song stopped Marston heard their labored breathing and the regular +splash of oars. They rowed well and he hoped their toil was not wasted. +By daybreak they might reach the edge of the wind, but the fickle +zephyrs might die away and the fiery dawn break across another glassy +calm. + +When he was not sculling Marston mused. He was rich and owned it strange +that he was there, laboring in the boat, as the slavers labored when +they towed the _Providence_, two hundred years ago. He wondered why men +went to sea in sailing ships, to bear fatigues nobody endured at home, +to fight for life on slanted yards, and stagger waist-deep about flooded +decks. Yet one went, and sometimes went for no reward. The thing was +puzzling. + +After all, the sea had a touch of romance one felt nowhere else. It was +something to brave the middle passage, although one had enough fresh +water and no frenzied slaves on board. Marston thought about the old +brigs--they towed the _Providence_ three days, under the burning tropic +sun. He could picture her. She rode low in the water, with her stone +ballast, and freight of parched humanity packed close on the tween-decks +and in the bottom hold. She had tall masts, for speed was needed, and +the weight aloft would make her plunge and roll. The jerks on the +towline embarrassed the boats, but white men drove the exhausted negroes +with whips and curses until they dropped the oars and died. Yet they +towed her three days. + +Marston could not see his watch and wondered how long it was to sunrise. +It was unthinkable they should go on rowing in the heat of day; he was +tired now and remembering the dark ripples alone sustained him. He +thought they had nearly reached the spot where the surface was +disturbed, but the fickle puffs of wind might have dropped. Stopping +sculling for a few moments, he turned his head. His face was wet with +sweat but he felt no coolness on his skin. It was very dark and +ominously calm. + +He took up the long oar again, twisting it with bleeding hands and +bracing his legs. They must keep _Columbine_ moving and his business was +to hold the boat straight; trouble with the warp would follow if she +took a sheer. For all that, he could not hold out long. He had taken +life easily and his body revolted from the strain. In fact, he was +beaten now, but it counted for much that the Krooboys rowed. They were +raw savages and he was white. They owned his control, but all the +advantages money could buy for him had gone. Nothing was left but the +primitive strength and stubbornness of human nature. He must not be +beaten; he owed it to the ruling stock from which he sprang, and with a +stern effort he tugged at the oar. + +At length, he felt an elusive chill, and wiping his wet face, looked +about. In the east, it was not quite so dark, and when he turned his +head the yacht looked blacker and not so large. Hull and sails were no +longer blurred; their outline was getting sharp, and he noted that the +balloon jib swelled in a gentle curve. One side of his face got cold and +when he began to scull again he thought the strain on the rope was less. + +A belt of smoky red spread swiftly along the horizon, he heard the high +gaff topsail flap, booms rattled and then the yacht got quiet. The tow +rope sank and when it tightened there was no jerk. _Columbine_ was +stealing up behind them. + +"In oars!" said Marston hoarsely. "Let go the warp!" + +The boat drifted back to the schooner and bumped against her side until +somebody caught a trailing rope. Marston with an effort climbed the rail +and dropping on deck saw Wyndham at the wheel. + +"Shall we hoist in? The boys are done," he said. + +Wyndham nodded. "Day's breaking; it will soon be blazing hot. The sun +may kill the wind, but I don't know. It's a fiery dawn." + +Blocks began to rattle and when the first boat swung across the rail +Marston looked about. Broad beams of light stretched across the sky and +the red sun rose out of the sea. He went to a chair under the awning and +threw himself down. He had earned a few minutes' rest, but when they had +gone he did not move and Wyndham smiled as he noted his even breath. +Beckoning a Krooboy, he sent him for a blanket and gently covered the +sleeping man. + +Marston was wakened by a lurch that threw him off the chair, and getting +up stiffly he noted the sharp slant of deck. Then he saw foam boil +behind the lee rail and straining curves of canvas that kept their +hollowness when the yacht rolled to windward. She trailed a snowy wake +across the backs of the sparkling seas and her rigging hummed on a high, +piercing note. The sky was blue, but the blue was dim and the sunshine +had lost its dazzling glare. One felt a bracing quality in the breeze. + +"Looks as if we had hit the _Trades_," he said. "What's her course?" + +"About North, North-west," said Wyndham, who sat on the stern grating +and indicated the Kroo at the wheel. "Bad Dollar is steering by the +wind. I reckoned we had better make some northing while we can. Off our +course, but the _Trades_ are fickle in this latitude. Suppose you get +your sextant. It's close on twelve o'clock." + +Marston looked at the nearly vertical sun and laughed. + +"I feel as if I'd just gone to sleep," he said and went below. + +The breeze freshened and held, _Columbine_ with all plain sail set made +good speed, and they laid off a straight course on the big Atlantic +chart. The risks of the middle passage were left behind. If they were +lucky, she would reach far across on the starboard tack, without their +shifting a rope. + +Their hopes were justified and at length they made Barbadoes, and +sailing between the Windward Isles, entered the Caribbean. One phase of +the adventure was over, but Marston with vague misgivings realized that +another had begun. Somehow he felt he had not done with the shadow he +had shrunk from in Africa. For all that, nothing happened to disturb him +as they followed the coast, stopping now and then at an open roadstead, +and now and then in the stagnant harbor of an old Spanish town. Indeed, +Marston found much that was soothingly familiar; smart liners, rusty +cargo boats, and busy hotels. In parts, the towns had been modernized, +but civilized comforts, and sometimes luxuries, contrasted sharply with +decay and customs that had ruled since the first Spaniards came. + +Wyndhams' had agents and correspondents at a number of the ports, but, +as a rule, they were dark-skinned gentlemen of uncertain stock. They +lived at old houses with flat tops and central patios, where the kitchen +generally adjoined the stable, and transacted their business in rooms +from which green shutters kept out the light. The business was +accompanied by the smoking of bitter tobacco and draining of small +_copitas_ of scented liquor. They declared their houses were Wyndham's, +but did not present him and Marston to their women. + +Except for some American and German merchants they saw few white people. +The citizens were mulattos of different shades, negroes, and half-breeds +who sprang from Spanish and Indian stock, although it was often hard to +guess what blood ran in the _Mestizos'_ veins. For the most part, they +were a cheerful, careless lot; the coast basked in sunshine, with high, +blue mountains for a background, and Marston felt nothing of the gloom +and mystery that haunted the African rivers. At some of the ports +Wyndham made arrangements for the extension of the house's trade, but +Marston could not tell if he was satisfied or not. + +When they lounged one evening on the veranda of a big white hotel, +Marston led his comrade firmly to talk about business. The hotel had +long since been the home of a Spanish grandee, and although the back was +ruinous the Moorish front had been altered and decorated by American +enterprise. Marston thought it a compromise between the styles of +Tangiers and Coney Island. The rash American had gone and the _Fonda +Malaguena_ owned the rule of a fat and urbane gentleman who claimed to +have come from Spain. For all that, the _Malaguena_ was comfortable, and +after the yacht's cramped, hot cabin, Marston liked the big shaded +rooms. The wine and food were better than he had thought, and as he sat, +looking out between the pillars, with a cup of very good coffee in +front of him, he was satisfied to stay a few more days. Small tables +occupied part of the pavement, white-clothed waiters moved about, and +people talked and laughed. A band played in the plaza and tram cars +jingled along the narrow street. There was a half moon and one could see +the black mountains behind the ancient town. + +"I don't know if I ought to grumble, but it's obvious there's not much +money to be earned at the ports we've touched," Wyndham remarked. "Where +steamers call and trade is regularly carried on, competition cuts down +profits. You must use a big capital if you want a big return." + +"It's the usual line," said Marston. "I think it's sound." + +Wyndham smiled. "You like the usual line! The trouble is, my capital is +small." + +"Then, you have another plan?" + +"I have some notions I hope to work out. Wyndhams' have agents and +stores at places farther along the coast. Steamers can't get into the +lagoons and we use sailing boats. The trade's small and risky, but the +profit's big. We'll push on and see what can be done, although I don't +expect too much." + +Marston pondered. He wanted to help Wyndham and had sometimes felt his +sportsman's life was rather objectless. For one thing, he might provide +himself with an occupation and perhaps stop Harry's embarking on rash +adventures. To invest his money would give him some control. + +"Could you make the business pay if you had a larger capital?" he +asked. + +"There are pretty good grounds for imagining so," Wyndham replied. + +"Very well! I have more money than I need and have been looking for a +chance to use my talents. So far I've kept them buried, and if I don't +dig them up soon, they might rust away. If you agree, I'd like to make a +start now and try a business speculation." He named a sum and added: +"You promised you'd take my help when you saw how you could use the +money." + +"You're generous, Bob," Wyndham remarked with a touch of feeling, and +then smiled. "However, I know you pretty well and think I understand +your plan. You want to keep me out of trouble and see I take the prudent +line. But was the plan yours or Mabel's?" + +"Mine," said Marston, rather shortly. "All the same, I imagine Mabel +would approve. But this has nothing to do with it and you needn't invent +an object for me. I'm looking for a good investment. My lawyers only get +me three or four per cent." + +"Then you make no stipulation?" + +"I do not," said Marston. "You will have control and command my help. If +I couldn't trust you with my money, I would not have gone to Africa with +you. I won't grumble if you lose the lot. The thing's a speculation." + +Wyndham knitted his brows for a few moments and then looked up. + +"You're a very good sort, Bob. I'll take the loan." + +"It's not a loan," said Marston firmly. "I'm buying a partnership." + +"A partner is responsible for all losses and liabilities. A lender is +not; he only risks the sum he invests." + +"Of course," said Marston. "I understand that." + +A touch of color came into Wyndham's face, but he smiled. + +"Oh, well, I knew you had pluck!" + +Marston got up. "Now we have agreed, we'll get to work. Let's see if the +telegraph office is open. To begin with, we'll buy the lot of ballata +your agent at the other port talked about." + +Wyndham laughed and they set off up the hot street. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE LAGOON + + +After a few days, _Columbine_ sailed west, and one night lurched slowly +across the languid swell towards the coast. There was a full moon, but +Marston, standing near the negro pilot at the wheel, could not see much. +Mist drifted about the forest ahead and he heard an ominous roar of +surf. Although no break in the coast was distinguishable, the schooner +was obviously drifting with the tide toward an opening. The wind was +light and blew off the land, laden with a smell of spices and river mud. +Marston did not like the smell: he had known it in Africa and when one +felt the sour damp one took quinine. He had studied the chart, which did +not tell him much, and since there were no marks to steer for he must +trust the negro pilot. + +There was a risk about going in at night and Marston would sooner have +hove to and waited, but the tide rose a few inches higher than at noon, +and Wyndham seldom shirked a risk when he had something to gain. By and +by he jumped down from the rail where he had been using the lead. + +"I expect we'll get in, but I don't know about getting out if we're +loaded deep," he said. + +"Do you expect much of a load?" Marston asked, because the chart did not +indicate a port. + +"It depends on our luck. Small quantities of stuff come down; scarce +dyestuffs, rubber, and forest produce that manufacturing chemists use. +We have a half-breed agent. White men can't stand the climate long, and +the natives are rather a curious lot." + +"Negroes?" said Marston thoughtfully. + +Wyndham laughed. "There are negroes. I understand the population's +pretty mixed, with a predominating strain of African blood. I expect you +don't like that, but trade's generally good at places where steamers +don't touch. Profits go up when competition's languid." + +Marston did not like it. He had thought his giving Wyndham money would +limit their business to trading at civilized ports. He imagined Harry +knew this and ought to have been satisfied, but he banished his feeling +of annoyance. After all, he had made no stipulation and was perhaps +indulging an illogical prejudice. He must, of course, trust his partner. + +The yacht stopped with a sudden jar and her stern swung round. The sails +flapped and her main boom lurched across and brought up with a crash. +She bumped hard once or twice, and then floated off and went on again. +The misty forest was nearer and a dim white belt indicated surf. It +looked as if they were steering for an unbroken beach. Then a wave of +thicker mist rolled about them and the forest was blotted out. Wyndham +jumped on the rail, and Marston heard the splash of the lead. After that +there was silence except for the roar of the surf, and Marston went +forward to see if the anchor was clear, but Wyndham said nothing and the +schooner stole on. Although the breeze was very light, the tide carried +her forward and Marston felt there was something ghostly about her +noiseless progress. By and by, however, Wyndham threw the lead on the +deck. + +"Another half-fathom! We're across the shoals," he said. "I expect the +pilot trusts the stream to keep us in the channel." + +Marston nodded. He saw trees in front, and in one place, a dark blur, +faintly edged by white, that he thought was a bank of mud, but all was +vague and somehow daunting. The trees got blacker, although they were +not more distinct, the sails flapped and then hung limp. The pilot +called out, and when Marston gave an order the anchor plunged and the +silence was broken by the roar of running chain. This died away when +_Columbine_ swung, and except for the languid rumble of the surf all was +quieter than before. The pilot got on board his canoe and vanished in +the mist, and a few minutes afterwards Marston went to the cabin. It was +very hot, but when malaria lurks in the night mist one does not sleep on +deck. + +When he awoke in the morning the cabin floor slanted, and going on deck +he saw why the pilot had told them to let the boom rest on the port +quarter. The tide had ebbed and although its rise and fall was not +large, belts of mud and channels of yellow water occupied the bed of the +lagoon. All round were dingy mangroves that overlapped and hid the +entrance. A little water flowed past the yacht, but it was plain that +her bilge rested on the ground. The bottom shelved, but the heavy boom +inclined her up the bank. There was nobody about and nothing indicated +that anybody ever visited the spot. Marston frowned, because it was hard +to persuade himself he was not in Africa. + +About noon a canoe arrived with two negroes on board and Marston and +Wyndham were paddled to a village some miles up a creek. It was a poor +place; small, whitewashed mud houses, a rusty iron store, and a row of +squalid huts occupied a clearing in the forest. Wyndhams' agent had a +house by the creek and received his visitors in his office. Outside the +sand was dazzling, but the office was dark and comparatively cool. A +reed curtain covered the window, which had no glass, there was no door, +and little puffs of wind blew in. Don Felix was a fat and greasy +mulatto, dressed in soiled white duck, with a broad red sash, in which +an ornamental Spanish knife was stuck. + +He brought out some small glasses and a bottle of scented liquor and +they began to talk and smoke. The agent's English was not good and he +now and then used French and Castilian words. Marston noted that he +talked about a number of unimportant matters before he touched on +business, and seemed unwilling to come to the subject. + +"I can give you a load, but trade is bad," he said at length, and turned +to the window with a gesture that seemed to indicate the forest. "The +people up there are lazy and for some time have not brought much produce +down." + +"It's natural produce, I suppose? Stuff that grows itself," Marston +remarked. "There isn't much cultivation in the bush?" + +Don Felix shrugged. "_Quien sabe?_ Who knows what they do up yonder? +These people they are _drole_. Sometimes they bring me cargo. Sometimes +they come to beg; there is a _fiesta_ in their village, they make +_fandango_, _jamboree._ The trader pays for the fiesta and gets back +nothing." + +"Then why do you pay?" + +"It is better," Don Felix replied and looked at the door, as if to see +there was nobody about. "They are _bete_, the _Mestizos_, but when one +is wise one does not make enemies. There is much Obeah in the bush." + +"_Obeah_'s something like African Ju-Ju? Magic of a sort?" Marston +suggested. + +"Something like that," Wyndham agreed. "I don't know much about it." He +looked at the agent. "Do you?" + +Don Felix made the sign of the cross. "Me, I am good Catholic; I know +nothing. They are _drole_ in the bush. When I think about their folly I +laugh." + +"Not always, I imagine," Wyndham remarked dryly. "However, we must +persuade these folks we have goods they'd find useful. That's the +beginning of trade. When a man sees he needs things somebody else has +got, he gets to work and looks for something to sell. Now let's +consider----" + +Marston listened while his comrade talked. Harry sometimes surprised +people who did not know him well. He was romantic but he had a +calculating vein. Harry could plan and bargain, and Marston reflected +that while the Wyndhams had long been adventurers they were traders, +too. After an hour's talk he had arranged much that promised to help the +agent's business and they went back to the creek. + +"In a way, we're lucky," Wyndham observed while they paddled down +stream. "The people we're going to deal with are nearly pure Africans +and we know something about negroes." + +Marston said nothing. He did not know if they were lucky or not and +rather doubted. + +They returned to the schooner and in the morning cargo began to arrive. +Two or three days afterwards Wyndham went off to the village with some +of the crew and Marston gave the others leave to go ashore. Neither the +boys nor Wyndham came back at dark, but this did not matter. Although +the schooner rose upright for a few hours when the tide flowed, she +would not float until the new moon, and the muddy lagoon was as smooth +as a pond. + +In the evening Marston sat in the little stern cabin. It was very hot +and his brain was dull but he did not want to go to bed until the crew +arrived. Moisture dripped from the ceiling and flies hovered round the +lamp that hung at an angle to the beams. The skylight was open a few +inches and although the opening was covered by mosquito gauze one could +not keep out the flies. Marston hated their monotonous buzzing, for +there is something about a mangrove swamp that frays a white man's +nerves. Water lapped against the planks and now and then there was a +splash in the mud. The tide was flowing and Marston imagined the water +round the vessel was three or four feet deep. It looked as if Wyndham +meant to stay away all night, and Marston wondered with a slight +uneasiness what was keeping him. + +A mahogany medicine chest stood on the small swing table. It was of the +type supplied to British merchant ships, but larger, and the London +chemists had fitted it with the latest drugs used in the tropics. There +was a book about them and Marston had meant to re-arrange the bottles +and packets, which had got displaced. He was not a doctor, but he had +studied the book and found it interesting. Tropical diseases were +strange and numerous, and he had made some cautious experiments on the +crew. Now his head ached rather badly and he wondered whether he would +take some quinine. + +Presently he put down the book and listened. Something had disturbed +him, but for a few moments he only heard the splash of the tide. Then +the scuttle over his head opened and a naked foot felt for the ladder. +The foot was white underneath, but although he was somewhat startled, +Marston did not think this strange. He had noted that negroes' and +mulattos' soles are often lighter in color than the rest of their skin. + +He sat still until a half naked man, who came backwards down the ladder, +turned and confronted him with an apologetic smile. The fellow was old +and his face was wrinkled and a curious yellow color. Marston had in +Africa seen badly jaundiced white men look something like that, although +the sickly tint was not so dark. A network of red veins covered his eyes +but they looked as if they had been blue. His hair was all white. He put +a small carved calabash on the table and then squatted on the cabin +floor. + +Marston frowned and waited. The carving had an African touch and it was +an African custom for a visitor to bring a present. The negroes called +it a _dash_. + +"Cappy lib for village?" the mulatto remarked and Marston nodded. + +He had not heard a canoe and wondered how the fellow got on board, since +his thin cotton clothes were dry. Moreover, although the half-breeds +Marston had met generally used creole French or uncouth Castilian, the +other said _lib for_, like a West African. + +"Bad country; white man sick too much. You sick now?" the mulatto +resumed, glancing at the chest. + +Marston made a sign of agreement. His head ached and he felt languid. It +was possible he had a mild dose of fever. + +"I fix you," said the mulatto, who pulled out a small brass box and +emptied some brown powder on the table. "You drink him in hot water." + +"Thank you," said Marston and scraped the stuff onto a piece of paper, +thinking he might experiment with it. The fellow could have no object +for trying to poison him and he understood the half-breeds knew some +useful cures. + +"Now you dash me a drink," said the other, looking at a bottle of whisky +in the rack, and Marston rather wondered why he took down the bottle. +The whisky was extra good; he did not like mulattoes, and knew no reason +for his entertaining his uninvited guest. Yet he put a glass on the +table; one glass. + +He imagined the other understood the significance of this, for his eyes +momentarily narrowed. It was strange, but they now looked blue. For all +that, he poured out a liberal measure of whisky and drank slowly, like a +connoisseur. + +Marston studied him with some curiosity and on the whole felt repelled. +The old fellow looked cunning and greedy, but not debased. One got a +hint of cruelty and power, and his manner was very calm. In West +Africa, Marston would perhaps have kicked him out, but pure white men +are not numerous on the south and west coasts of the Caribbean and the +distinction of color is relaxed. Besides, he reflected, he was engaged +in trading with the natives. + +"You lib for here for buy thing," the other remarked presently. "What +thing you want?" + +Marston mentioned some articles Wyndham had talked about, and the other +nodded. "You go make me dash and you get them thing. Agent man fool man; +him no savvy black man's way in bush." + +"If the stuff comes along, we'll talk about the dash," Marston answered +cautiously, although he did not like his visitor and wondered when he +would go. + +"When white cappy come back?" the old fellow asked. + +"In the morning, I expect," said Marston with a yawn. + +The other got up as if he were going, and turned sideways in order to +pass between the swing-table and the locker. There was not much room, +for one does not lean against a swing-table, which keeps its level by a +counterbalance underneath when the vessel rolls. It looked as if the +mulatto knew this, and Marston thought it strange. Next moment, however, +he struck his naked foot against the fastenings in the deck and, +stumbling, put his arm on the table. The table tilted and the medicine +chest slipped off. It turned over as it fell and emptied bottles, +packets, scales, and measures on the deck. + +The mulatto looked at the disordered pile and made for the ladder. +Marston did not stop him, although he was angry, and kneeling down began +to pick up the articles. The bottles were strong and had not broken, +and in a minute or two he replaced them and the other things in the box. +Then he went up the ladder and looked out on deck. A lamp hung on the +forestay as a beacon for the boats and one could see the sweep of planks +and line of the rail. There was nobody about and nothing broke the +silence. Beyond the feeble glimmer of the lamp it was very dark, but the +night was calm and Marston knew the splash of a paddle would carry far. + +He crossed the deck and looked over the rail. The water caught a faint +reflection and he saw muddy foam and weed float past. The tide was +rising and running up the lagoon. One could hardly wade to land and it +was obviously impossible to do so without making a noise. Yet his +visitor had vanished and he had not heard him go. Marston remembered +stories about the Ghost Leopards he had heard in Africa, and laughed, +but the laugh was forced. + +He went back to the cabin and, shutting the hatch, examined the medicine +chest. He did not know if he was surprised to find two articles had +gone; one was a bottle of laudanum and the other a packet of new and +powerful drugs. The book warned one to be careful about their use. +Marston lighted a cigarette and pondered. He was not certain the bottle +and packet were in the box when he got it down, although he thought they +were; he had sometimes taken things out when he dosed the crew and he +had used laudanum. Moreover, it looked impossible that the mulatto had +picked them up. So far as Marston remembered, he did stoop down or stop. +Then, supposing he had taken the stuff, it was hard to see why a man +who was half a savage should steal laudanum and the other drug. + +If Obeah was like West African Ju-Ju, there were no doubt men who used +poison to support their claim to magical power; but strange and virulent +poisons could be extracted from tropical plants. Besides the fellow had +given Marston a cure for fever. Perhaps he was making a dangerous +experiment, but his curiosity conquered his caution and he resolved to +try the stuff. Going to the galley, he found some hot water, and as he +came back noted that one could see into the cabin through the +half-opened skylight. He wondered whether the mulatto had looked down +and noted the medicine chest. The brown powder melted, and he swallowed +the draught. Then he got into his bunk, and blowing out the lamp, +presently went to sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DON FELIX'S REVOLT + + +When Marston woke in the morning his headache and languidness had gone. +It looked as if the powder the mulatto had left had cured him, and +although he did not find the laudanum and packet of drugs, he resolved +he would not bother about their loss. In a day or two, small lots of +rather valuable cargo began to arrive and one afternoon Marston and +Wyndham lounged under the awning and watched the Krooboys transfer goods +from a big canoe to the yacht. Four or five negroes from up river put +the fiber packages in the hoisting slings. + +The men worked slackly, for although the sun was hidden the heat was +extreme. A yellow haze covered the sky, but the oily surface of the +lagoon shimmered with subdued light. On the other side, the reflection +of the mangroves floated motionless, without a leaf quivering. Dark +shadow lurked in the caves under the high roots, and here and there the +massed foliage was touched by dirty white. Marston thought the trees +looked as if they were blighted by some foul disease. He hated the +mangroves and the smell of mud that hung about the vessel. + +"The tides are beginning to get higher," he said. "It will be a relief +to leave this dismal spot and go to sea." + +"Calling here has paid us," Wyndham rejoined. "We are getting stuff for +which dyers and chemists give high prices; stuff I wanted but hardly +expected to obtain. In fact, I'll own your mysterious visitor has earned +his dash. No doubt he'll turn up again and ask for it." + +"D'you reckon he had much to do with our getting the goods?" + +Wyndham shrugged. "I understand he promised you the articles you talked +about, and they have arrived. If he comes again, I'd like to see him. +Perhaps he could be persuaded to send us something else." + +"He asked for you," said Marston, and wondered whether his remark was +rash when he saw Wyndham was pondering. Although Bob felt he was perhaps +illogical, he did not want Harry to persuade the fellow. + +"I think you said his eyes were blue," Wyndham resumed presently. "Well, +one does meet a mulatto with blue eyes now and then, and it's perhaps +not important that the bottom of his feet was white----" + +Wyndham stopped, for a splash of paddles broke the silence, and when a +canoe stole out of the shadow across the lagoon Marston said. "We may +learn something about him now. Here's your agent, Don Felix." + +He thought Wyndham was going to reply, but he hesitated and then crossed +the deck as the agent and another man came on board. Marston called the +steward, who put a small table under the awning and brought out a bottle +of choice liquor they had bought at the last port. The party sat down +and Marston studied his guests. On the whole, he liked Don Felix and +thought him honest. The fellow's greasy fat face was frank and his black +eyes met one's glance squarely. For all that, he thought he did not +look well; there was a hint of strain about him and his hand shook when +he greedily drained his glass. The climate, however, was unhealthy, and +Marston turned to their other guest. + +Father Sebastian was white, although his skin was dark and wrinkled. He +was very thin and his threadbare clothes were slack; his hair was white +and his eyes were sunk. He looked about with a frank curiosity and +Marston imagined it was long since he had been on board a ship and had +met civilized white men. + +By and by Don Felix began to talk about the cargo and declared that he +was puzzled, because he had not received so large a quantity of valuable +goods for some time. + +"It looks as if the people in the bush were working," he remarked and +added dryly: "They work when they are forced." + +Marston told him about the mulatto's visit, and Don Felix's face got +dark. He drained his glass and turning to Father Sebastian repeated +Marston's story in awkward French. + +"I do not like it," he said, "This foul Bat! I think he is plotting +again." + +Father Sebastian made a sign of agreement and addressed Marston, whose +curiosity was obvious. He spoke slowly, as if it cost him an effort to +remember words, but Marston thought his French was good. + +"An evil man! He is called the Bat because he likes the dark. Moreover +they talk about bats that drink human blood." + +"If there are such creatures, why don't you kill them?" Marston asked +and glanced at Wyndham. He was smoking a cigarette and looked rather +bored, but Marston knew his friend and doubted. + +"The Bat is hard to kill. Some have tried, but perhaps I may be +luckier," Don Felix answered, and his fat, nervous fingers touched his +Spanish knife. Then he shrugged. "All the same, it is possible he kills +me!" + +The others said nothing. Don Felix was rather theatrical, but Marston +thought him strongly moved by anger or fear. By and by Don Felix went to +the hatch and examined one or two of the packages the Krooboys were +putting in the hold. + +"What is this?" he asked. "These packages have a mark I know but I did +not buy the goods." + +"The shipper will, no doubt, come to you for payment and we'll engage to +meet the bill," Wyndham replied. "The stuff is getting very scarce and +ought to sell for a good price." + +"No!" exclaimed Don Felix angrily. "I buy nothing with that mark! You +must stop the boys loading the lot. Send it all back." + +"Isn't this ridiculous?" Wyndham asked. "Why do you want us to refuse +the goods?" + +Don Felix sat down and gripped the arm of his chair hard. "The man whose +mark that is is a friend of the Bat's," he said, and his voice got +hoarse. "I do not know if the goods are his or the other's, but I will +not buy the stuff. Bad luck would go with the money one earned by +handling it." + +He said something to Father Sebastian in rapid creole French and the +priest turned to Wyndham. + +"It is better that you send back this cargo," he remarked quietly. "Don +Felix is an honest man. He has given you advice that may cost him much." +Marston pondered, with his eyes on his guest. Father Sebastian was old +and shabby; he had obviously lived long with his savage flock, but he +was white. His glance was calm and thoughtful and he had a touch of +dignity. Marston thought he knew much about human nature and could be +trusted. Don Felix, however, got up and clenched his fist. It looked as +if the company of the priest and the others had given him some resolve. + +"What do I care about the cost?" he exclaimed in French. "I was afraid +and I paid. Me, a good Catholic, I paid that these pigs might serve +their devil! But it has gone on long, and now I stop. This dirty Bat +will come between me and my employer; he leaves me out. Well, let it be +so!" He paused and spread out his hand with a theatrical gesture that +Marston thought was meant for the negroes in the canoe. "Now I fight. My +trade is my blood. I will kill this Bat!" + +Father Sebastian shook his head, but Don Felix turned to Wyndham and +resumed in a defiant voice. "You will send back the packages? If not, +you must get another agent." + +"Very well," agreed Wyndham. "You can tell the boys to unload the goods +you don't like." + +He gave Don Felix a quick glance and Marston wondered whether he +expected him to hesitate, but the mulatto went back to the hatch and +gave his orders resolutely. Marston remembered that another lot of fiber +packages had been stowed at the bottom of the hold before the agent +arrived and were now probably out of sight. Wyndham however, said +nothing about these and filled Father Sebastian's glass. + +"Our friend is superstitious," he remarked. "You know something about +Obeah, and Voodoo magic. I expect the men who teach the cult use cunning +tricks. But how much is trickery?" + +"Ah," said Father Sebastian, "Who can tell? There are powers that rule +the dark. You know it is permitted when you have lived in the gloom. +Perhaps Don Felix is superstitious, but he takes a hard path. It is the +right path; I think he is brave." Then he paused and smiled. "I am old +and have lived in this country long. There is much about Voodoo and +other things that puzzles me; but this I know. They who walk in the +light need fear no lasting hurt." + +"Sometimes one's light gets dim," said Marston. + +"That is when we stray into the shadow and our eyes are dull. The light +burns steadily; it will not go out." + +Don Felix came back from the hatch and stopped for dinner. When he and +Father Sebastian had gone, Marston asked Wyndham: "What about the other +lot of goods that was already in the hold?" + +"Well?" said Wyndham. "Do you see any object for our returning the +stuff? For that matter, I don't know to whom it ought to be returned." + +Marston said the goods could wait at the village until the owner claimed +payment. "We promised Don Felix we would not take this cargo," he added. + +"You mean, I promised?" Wyndham rejoined. "My promise applied to the +particular lot he grumbled about. Anyhow, I want the goods. We can sell +them for a high price." + +Marston admitted that the argument was plausible, although he doubted if +it were ethically sound. Still he must not be fastidiously critical +about his friend. He was rich and free from one kind of temptation; +Harry was poor. Wyndham noted his hesitation and resumed: + +"Our voyage is not a yachting excursion. We are frankly out for what we +can earn, and I'm, so to speak, now on trial. I'm young and the head of +a house that people knew was tottering when I took control. Chisholm and +Flora's relations have reserved their judgment; they're willing to give +me a fair chance, but wait to see what I can do. Well, you know my +drawbacks and how much depends on my making good. In order to do so, +I'll run all risks." + +Marston thought there was a risk Wyndham did not see. Flora Chisholm was +honest and proud. Her lover's success would not satisfy her if she +disapproved the means he used. This, however, was an awkward subject and +Marston owned that to imagine Harry would give her grounds for +disapproving was taking much for granted. He let the matter go and began +to talk about something else. + +For all that, when Wyndham left him he lighted a fresh cigarette and +mused. Harry was his friend, but he began to see he had got a habit of +making allowances for him that he might not have made for others. Harry +had a strange charm and individuality; somehow one could not judge him +by conventional rules. Then Marston remembered that Mabel had let him +go in order that he might be Harry's protector, but the dangers he was +to be guarded from were not physical. Marston understood this better now +and doubted if he were clever enough for the job; Mabel did not mean him +to be a hypercritical prig. Anyhow, he had undertaken the job and Mabel, +perhaps rather foolishly, trusted him. He threw his cigarette away and +went off to superintend the stowage of the cargo. + +The moon was getting small and the tides were higher when, one evening, +a messenger asked them to come to the village. They went up river in the +mist, and Marston felt languid and dejected. The day had been very hot +and it was not much cooler at dark. The stagnant air was hard to +breathe, there was something daunting in the silence, and the splash of +paddles sounded harshly loud. When they landed they found Don Felix +alone in his house except for a half-breed woman and Father Sebastian. +He lay in a fiber hammock and Marston saw he was very ill. His black +eyes were half shut, his face was a livid color and wet with clammy +sweat. + +The room was brightly lighted and the half-breed woman sat on the ground +in a limp, huddled pose, with a black shawl hiding her shoulders and +head. She did not move when the others came in, but Don Felix's glance +hinted at relief, and Father Sebastian indicated two American bent-wood +chairs that looked strangely out of harmony with the mud walls and +floor. + +"If we had known you were ill, we would have brought our medicine +chest," Marston said. "What is the matter?" + +"Who knows?" said Don Felix, dully, and Marston imagined the Castilian +rejoinder meant his question admitted of no reply. "I will not live +until the morning, but I have lived longer than I sometimes thought. It +does not matter now the good father and my friends have come. I am no +more afraid." + +Marston was puzzled; somehow Don Felix looked afraid. The first part of +his statement was easier to understand, because Marston had learned in +Africa that negroes and uncivilized half-breeds slip easily out of life +and often seem to know when theirs will end. But if Don Felix was not +afraid to go, what did he fear? + +"Is there nobody about? Where are the working boys?" Wyndham asked. + +"They have gone; they _know_," Don Felix replied, and Marston felt half +daunted as he asked himself; What did the boys know? "But you will +stay?" the other went on anxiously. + +"Of course," said Wyndham in a quiet voice. + +Father Sebastian looked up, as if to thank him, and Marston saw Harry +had taken the proper line. He felt there was no use in trying to +persuade Don Felix he was not very ill. It was significant that the +priest had not tried. + +"Now we will talk a little," Don Felix said to Wyndham. "There is some +business to talk about." + +Wyndham glanced at Father Sebastian, who made a sign of permission, and +then got up and went to the door with Marston. They sat down on a bench +outside and a beam of light and the dull voices of the others came +through the door. Marston did not hear the woman; she had not spoken at +all, but sat motionless and huddled. He had not seen her face and never +knew what she was like. All was quiet in the village, and outside the +feeble beam the gloom was strangely deep. Marston sympathized with Don +Felix's liking for plenty of light. + +"What has caused his illness?" he asked. + +"Poison, I think," Father Sebastian replied. "Our friend is a good +Catholic, but he is half persuaded it is something else." + +"The other thing's ridiculous, though I suppose they claim to use magic +in the bush. But you ought to know something about native poisons." + +"I know many, but Don Felix's symptoms are strange," said Father +Sebastian, quietly. + +Marston asked him about the symptoms and carefully noted his answers. +Then he remarked: "I don't altogether understand why the boys left him." + +"They were afraid. In this country, it is rash to help a victim of +Voodoo." + +"But they are your people; I mean, they belong to your flock." + +"They are human and one must not expect too much from men who have long +walked in the gloom. The old gods are powerful." + +"The Obeah gods are devils!" Marston declared with an anger that rather +surprised himself. + +Father Sebastian glanced at the surrounding dark, in which blurred trees +vaguely loomed. + +"It is possible there are devils yonder. Things are done they would +approve," he remarked quietly. + +"I understand the Bat is Don Felix's enemy. Do you think he poisoned +him?" + +"I do not know. Perhaps we shall never know. In this country, many +people are poisoned." + +Marston clenched his fist. "Don Felix is Wyndhams' agent and I'm a +partner in the house. If I find out who poisoned him, I'll see the +fellow is held accountable." + +He stopped, for Wyndham came to the door, beckoning the priest. + +"He wants you," he said, and they went in. + +Marston long remembered the next hour or two. At first Don Felix was +shaken by spasms of pain and groaned, but was silent afterwards. His +eyes were dull and half shut, and when they opened wider they turned +apprehensively to the open door. Sometimes he glanced about the room and +Marston thought he took courage when he saw Father Sebastian sitting +near his hammock and Wyndham in the background. Yet he was obviously +afraid and his fear was disturbing. + +For the most part all was very quiet, but sometimes there were noises +that jarred Marston's nerves. Although the night was calm, leaves +rustled in the dark and one heard sounds like the stealthy tread of +naked feet. Marston fancied shadows lurked about the edge of the beam +from the door and found it hard to persuade himself he was deceived, +although he knew nobody was there. For a minute or two moisture splashed +outside, as if somebody had struck a branch and shaken down big drops. +The noise stopped and Marston felt the silence worse. + +Now and then he glanced at Wyndham. The latter did not move and looked +straight in front, but his quietness was significant and his mouth was +firm. Marston imagined he bore some strain, but it was often hard to +tell what Harry felt and thought. At length, Don Felix moved his hand +awkwardly, as if he felt for something to which he could cling, and the +slack movement did not stop until he felt Father Sebastian's grasp. His +haunted look was plainer, although he was now too weak to glance at the +door. It jarred Marston strangely, and getting up he went out. + +Half-an-hour afterwards there was a wild cry in the house and Marston +shivered. It was the woman's voice and he knew why she had cried out. +Then Wyndham came to the door, and standing with his back against the +light, looked about for his comrade. + +"We need not stay now," he said. "He was calm at the last and had all +the consolation Father Sebastian could give him. An honest man, and +brave, I think, believing what it's obvious he did believe!" + +"He trusted you," Marston remarked, meaningly. + +"It's possible he found our being about some help. We stayed while we +were needed." + +"That is not what I mean," Marston rejoined. "If ever I saw a man fight +with fear, I watched the horrible battle to-night! The fellow was your +agent and somebody who destroyed his body sent an unthinkable horror to +torment his mind. The thing's devilish! What are you going to do about +it?" + +"What can I do?" said Wyndham. "I have nothing to go upon." + +Marston made a sign of agreement, but his face was very stern. "Some +day, perhaps, we'll find out who's accountable. I mean to try." + +Wyndham said nothing and they went back to the canoe. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MARSTON USES HIS POWER + + +Soon after Don Felix was buried two strangers visited the schooner. One +was white but so burned by the sun and worn by the climate that he +looked like a native. Peters was agent for a Hamburg merchant house with +a factory on a neighboring lagoon, and told Wyndham he had come because +he seldom met a white man. The other was a government officer and +stated, apologetically, that his business was to make a few inquiries +about Don Felix's death. His skin was nearly white, but his coarse lips +and short, curling hair indicated a strain of negro blood. + +Marston knew something about the officials who held small posts on the +Caribbean coast. For the most part, they were mulattos, paid low wages +and willing to augment the latter by presents and bribes. As a rule, he +had found them good-humored and indolent, and he imagined Don Ramon +Larrinaga would be satisfied with a few particulars and a little money. +There was, he thought, no use in trying to put him on the track of the +unknown poisoner. He let Wyndham take the man to the cabin and sat under +the awning on deck with Peters, for whom he opened a bottle of vermouth. + +Peters knew much about the country and told him some rather curious +stories. He looked shriveled and desiccated, but his glance was keen and +Marston imagined he was very shrewd. Marston, however, did not study +him much; it was enough that he was an amusing companion while Wyndham +was occupied. By-and-by the latter opened the cabin scuttle and +beckoned. + +"You have some paper money, Bob. Lend me a few bills," he said. + +Marston asked the sum he wanted and was surprised when Wyndham told him. + +"Is it necessary to give him so much?" he asked. + +"Perhaps it's advisable. We'll soon be ready for sea and I expect the +fellow could keep us here while he made fresh inquiries and wrote +reports. He's polite, but he rather hinted something like that. Of +course, he has no notion of really finding out why Don Felix died." + +"We want to find out," Marston rejoined. + +Wyndham smiled. "That's another thing; the government officials don't +want to bother. If we knew who was accountable, it would be hard to get +them to move. However, Don Ramon is waiting----" + +Marston took out his wallet and after giving Wyndham some money went +back to Peters, whose eyes twinkled. + +"Your partner knows the customs of the country," he remarked. "On the +whole, it pays to be generous. In a climate like this, it's prudent to +save oneself unnecessary trouble." + +"We don't want to avoid trouble," Marston replied. "If I was persuaded +our agent was poisoned and could get on the poisoner's track, I'd use +some energy to follow it up." + +Peters shrugged. "You can do nothing; better let it rest. In the fever +swamps, men who are well one day often die the next. It is possible they +have an enemy in the bush, but the law does not reach up yonder. +Sickness is common and human life is cheap." + +They talked about something else until Wyndham and Larrinaga came on the +deck. The latter bowed to Marston when his canoe was paddled to the +gangway. + +"I thank you and your partner, senor," he said. "If I can be of help, +remember I am your servant." + +"It was nothing," Marston replied. "I expect Senor Wyndham has told you +all we know, but if you can find out anything important, you'll earn our +gratitude. The man who tells me why Don Felix died can count on his +reward." + +Peters gave him a curious glance and smiled. "After all, the reward may +perhaps be claimed. It is not likely, I admit, but things one does not +look for sometimes happen." + +He got into the canoe and when the negroes paddled off Marston leaned +against the rail. + +"I suppose we need expect nothing from Larrinaga," he remarked. "How +much did you tell him?" + +"All I thought it useful for him to know," said Wyndham, rather dryly. +"He's a common type; lazy and greedy. Now he's got his bribe, I don't +suppose he'll bother us. What did you think about the other?" + +"I didn't study him much. Amusing fellow, but you get a hint of force. I +imagine he's clever and a man who can hold on. Anyhow, he doesn't +matter, since it's improbable we'll see him again. We'll have the holds +full in a day or two and I've had enough of the lagoon." + +"All the same, I'm rather afraid we can't get away just yet." + +Marston began to grumble, but Wyndham smiled. + +"There are things to straighten out and now we have no agent I may be +needed, but it won't be necessary for you to stay. In fact, I'd like you +to take the schooner to the next port and transship the cargo. Then you +could come back for me and the extra load I half expect, but I'll know +more when I've been to the village, and we'll talk about this again." + +Wyndham started for the village next day, and when it was getting dark +Marston lounged on deck looking out for the boat. Some of the crew had +gone with Wyndham, the rest were in the forecastle, and except for the +cook at the galley door Marston had the deck to himself. The yacht was +slowly lifting with the tide, which spread across the mud banks in the +lagoon. Thin mist drifted about the mangroves and there was not a breath +of wind. The water glimmered with faint reflections but in a few minutes +it would be dark. + +Presently Marston, looking over the rail, imagined there was somebody +behind him on the deck. For a moment or two, however, he did not turn. +He had heard no step and had recently felt himself highly strung. It +looked as if Don Felix's death had given him a jar, but he was not going +to indulge his shaken nerves. Still he felt there was somebody about and +he slowly and deliberately looked round. The mulatto who had visited him +before squatted on the deck, as if he had been there some time. Marston +thought he saw amusement in his wrinkled face and his anger arose. + +"Cappy Wyndham lib for on board?" the old fellow asked. + +"He is not on board," said Marston roughly. "What do you want?" + +"You done get them cargo?" + +"We did. I don't know if you had much to do with it, but I suppose you +expect your dash. What would you like? Money?" + +The other shook his head. "Money no good. My friend sick too much. You +dash me some medicine." + +Marston remembered the packet of drugs and found it needful to use some +control. He did not know if the mulatto was the Bat or not, but on the +whole thought he was and the horror of his watch at Don Felix's house +was fresh. Yet he had nothing to go upon and would not be justified in +throwing the fellow overboard. The other watched him with bloodshot +eyes, and although his face was inscrutable, Marston began to feel +uneasy. He wondered whether the fellow was something of a hypnotist, for +he got a hint of force; force that he thought malevolent. Looking +forward along the deck, he imagined he saw the cook at the galley door, +but the indistinct figure vanished and Marston felt it was significant +that the negro had gone inside. Then he braced himself and looked back. + +"I will not give you medicine, but since we did get the cargo, perhaps +you deserve something," he said. "Wait a minute." + +Going to the cabin, he opened a locker in which they had put a quantity +of African trade goods. The stuff was rubbish, made to please the +negro's eye; brass, jewelry, cheap scent, colored flannel jackets, and +frail umbrellas. Marston picked up as much as he could carry and was +conscious of rather dry amusement as he climbed the ladder. His visitor +had obviously learned English in West Africa and he was going to give +him the usual African dash, but he knew the old fellow had no use for +the stuff. It was like giving a philosopher a child's toy. + +"There you are!" said Marston, throwing down the articles. "Now get +off!" + +"I lib for see Cappy Wyndham," the other objected. + +"Get off the ship," said Marston. "Don't come back!" + +He wondered how the man would go. There was no canoe about and the water +round the vessel was three or four feet deep; she lay obliquely to the +beach. It was ridiculous to imagine the other had vanished on his last +visit, but Marston had not seen how he went. Now, however, he meant to +watch. + +The mulatto picked up the load of rubbish and went forward along the +deck. He jumped on the end of the bowsprit and Marston smiled, for it +looked as if he could not use his tricks when one kept one's eye on him. +Balancing himself cautiously, he walked along the spar and melted in the +dark. But in a few moments there was a splash and Marston knew he had +dropped from the bowsprit's end into shallow water. Somehow this was +soothing and he went to the cabin. In an hour or two Wyndham returned +and when they lighted their pipes after supper Marston remarked: + +"The old fellow Don Felix imagined was the Bat turned up again." + +"Ah," said Wyndham, who looked interested. "Don Felix hadn't seen him; +we don't know he is the Bat." + +"Father Sebastian agreed that he was, and I haven't much doubt. He said +the man was evil and I think evil's the proper word. He gives me a +strange nervous shrinking. Have you felt a kind of nausea when you +looked at something repulsive? Well, I feel like that when he's about." + +"As a rule, you don't let your imagination carry you away," Wyndham +remarked. "I expect the heat and the dismal surroundings account for +much." + +"Anyhow, I gave him a dash and ordered him off the boat." + +Wyndham glanced up rather sharply. "Why? We have got some valuable +goods, and although we'll have to pay their owners, it looks as if the +old fellow was useful." + +"I don't want any goods he sends," Marston rejoined. "My notion is +they're better left alone. Then I'm a partner, and although I haven't +meddled much, I felt I ought to use my power." + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "You are a partner, I suppose we must let it +go." + +They talked about something else and next evening Marston took the +schooner's dinghy and rowed down the lagoon. He had heard curlew whistle +in the dark and wondered whether the birds were as wild as they are in +England. For a time he followed the edge of the mangroves, where water +dripped from the arched roots, and amphibious things splashed in the +muddy caves; and then skirted a sloppy bank the tide flowed across. Now +and then he saw a curlew but did not get a shot, and by and by he put +down the oars. The damp heat was enervating and he rested and looked +about. + +It would soon be dark and the mangroves cut in a straight black line +against a fading orange glow. The land-breeze began to shake the leaves +and now and then a pale branch moved. All was very quiet but for the +dull rumble of the surf outside. Marston felt languid and vaguely +disturbed. There was something about Wyndham that puzzled him. When they +were at sea he did not want a better friend, but it was different when +they went ashore to trade. Well, he had come to look after Harry and now +understood better why Mabel had let him go. Perhaps Harry really needed +to be looked after. Marston was staunch, but he knew Mabel had not +altogether trusted his comrade. + +There was another thing; he must soon sail the schooner to the next port +and he wanted to go, but Harry meant to stay. Marston did not like this, +although he could think of no logical objection. The mulatto's visits +bothered him. The fellow had asked for Wyndham and somehow Marston would +sooner they did not meet. Perhaps the thing was ridiculous, but he felt +like that. + +It got dark and although there was no obvious reason for his return he +felt he ought to get back to the yacht. Recently he had felt highly +strung. This was, no doubt, the consequence of pottering about the +unhealthy swamps, but he must control his illogical impulses and he +lighted his pipe while he let the dinghy drift with the tide. + +She floated quietly up the lagoon and presently he saw _Columbine_'s +lights in the mist. Pulling a few languid strokes, he let the boat drift +again until the vessel's dark side was close ahead. Then he put out his +hand and seized a rope. He wore rubber boots, because he had thought he +might wade across the mud, and made no noise when he stepped down from +the rail. There was nobody on deck, but a light shone in the cabin and +when he went aft he heard voices. The skylight was open and one of the +voices was the old mulatto's. + +Marston stopped abruptly. He wanted to go down and turn out the fellow, +but doubted if he would be justified, although he was Wyndham's partner. +Somehow it was unthinkable the brute and his comrade should engage in +quiet talk. For all that, he did not go, and turning back a few yards +stopped again. He must not be a fool, and no doubt the fellow had come +to talk about some goods his friends in the bush could supply. Marston +did not want the goods, but forced himself to wait. + +By and by a shadowy figure came out from the cabin hatch. It made no +noise and Marston would not have seen it had not the indistinct black +object for a moment cut against the light. Outside the beam from the +open hatch all was misty and dark. Still Marston thought the fellow knew +he was there, because he vanished as if he had gone behind the mast. +Marston did not bother about him and went down to the cabin. + +There was liquor on the table and Wyndham had obviously just drained the +glass he held. His hand shook as he put it down, his face was rather +white, and drops of sweat stood on his forehead. It looked as if he had +got a knock, although Marston knew Harry's nerve was good. + +"I couldn't get near the curlew, so I came back," he remarked, +awkwardly. + +Wyndham looked up, with an obvious effort for calm. "Oh, well, since you +are here, you might turn out the boys and heave up the slack cable." + +Marston noted that Wyndham's voice was hoarse, but thought it better to +conquer his curiosity. Harry might give him his confidence later, and in +the meantime to heave the cable taut would obviate their bringing the +boys up again. The tide was rising and they wanted to float the schooner +off the mud. He went forward to call the crew and the clank of the +windlass and rattle of chain were soothing, since they indicated that +_Columbine_ was ready for sea. Marston owned that he would be glad to +get away from the lagoon. He was occupied for some time and when he went +back to the cabin Wyndham looked calm. + +"We'll keep her off the beach after this," he said. "Sorry you didn't +get a shot. The curlew seem as wild as they are at home." + +"I don't want her to take the beach again," Marston remarked. "When do +we sail?" + +"You'll sail as soon as the pilot thinks there's water enough on the +bar. He comes to-morrow." + +"But you mean to stay?" + +"I must stay," said Wyndham. "We haven't an agent and I'm on the track +of some business I can't neglect." + +Marston saw there was no use in urging his comrade to go. Harry's mouth +was ominously firm. He wondered whether Harry would tell him what the +mulatto had talked about, but he did not and soon after supper they went +to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MARSTON GOES TO SEA + + +The new moon shone in a clear sky and the tide was nearly full. Puffs of +warm land-breeze shook the mangroves and drove small ripples against +_Columbine_'s side. She rode to the flood stream, ready for sea, and the +clank of her windlass rolled across the swamps. The negro crew were +shortening cable and sang as they hove at the levers. + +Wyndham was talking to Peters, who had arrived in the afternoon, and +Marston, standing near them, frowned. He was annoyed that Peters had +come, because he had wanted to talk to Wyndham and after the other's +arrival this was impossible. It was unlucky he had put it off, but he +did not see why Harry had urged the fellow to stay and go back to the +village with him when the schooner sailed. Marston felt rather hurt, +since it almost looked as if Harry had kept Peters in order to prevent +him trying to satisfy his curiosity. + +Marston was curious. The old mulatto had told Harry something that had +given him a bad jar; Bob could not forget his comrade's strained look +when he entered the cabin, and he had found no clew to the puzzle. It +was a relief to go to sea, but the satisfaction he had expected to get +was dulled. He felt as if he were running away and leaving his partner +when the latter needed him. Yet somebody must go and Harry would not. + +"Short up, sah!" a Krooboy shouted when the windlass stopped. The pilot +gave an order, and the foresail began to rise with a rattle of blocks. +The canvas flapped and swelled, and Marston went forward. + +"Break out the anchor," he said. "Hoist the inner jib." + +Dark figures rose and fell with the windlass-bars; slowly at first, then +faster, as with a harsh clank the chain ran through the pipe. Marston +had generally found the noise inspiriting. It hinted at adventure on the +open sea, but it did not move him now; he was not leaving the lagoon for +good. Yet he was soothed when _Columbine_ began to move. After lying on +the mud, he liked to feel her lift as she met the gentle swell the tide +brought in, and hear the ripple splash about her bows. The mangroves +stole past, a gap opened in the trees, and a faintly-glittering track +led out to sea. + +"Hoist the mainsail," said the pilot, and the splash of ripples was +louder when the dark canvas rose. + +She drove out with the land-breeze and met the rollers on the bar. They +were not high and hardly broke, only one here and there melting into +foam. She lurched across with dry decks, and when the leadsman got +deeper water the pilot brought her round and pulled up his canoe. +Marston went to the gangway with Wyndham and Peters, and the latter +laughed as he gave him his hand. + +"I don't know if we'll meet again, but it's possible," he said. "You +offered a good reward for some information not long since. I wonder +whether you were rash." + +"The offer stands," Marston replied. "The man who tells me all about our +agent's death will find me generous." + +"Oh, well," said Peters. "I can't state that I expect to claim the +reward, but after all I might. Then I hope we'll both be satisfied." + +Marston let him go. He would have given much for ten minutes' frank talk +with Wyndham, but this was impossible. The pilot was waiting and the +yacht drifting near a dangerous shoal. He resigned himself and gave his +comrade his hand. + +"Run no risks and take care of yourself until I come back," he said. + +"Good luck!" said Wyndham and jumped into the canoe. + +Marston signed to the steersman, the sails filled, and the canoe dropped +astern. _Columbine_ gathered speed and listed down, throwing spray about +while the water foamed below her lee rail. Small white waves rolled down +the glittering track ahead and Marston's mood got lighter. After all, it +was a relief to put to sea; the salt wind was tonic and blew morbid +thoughts away. It was bracing to grapple with breaking waves and savage +squalls. + +He looked astern. The canoe had vanished and a misty line indicated the +land. Marston was conscious of a strange repugnance as he watched it +fade. Sickness lurked in the steamy forest, where the gloom was touched +by mystery and something of horror. For a time, he had done with it, and +he would come back strengthened and invigorated by the change. + +He gave the helmsman the course, and going to the cabin, opened a tin +box that held letters for England and manifests of cargo. He must copy +these out on the bills of lading when he transshipped the goods and as +he studied the lists he felt some surprise. _Columbine_ did not carry +much but her freight was valuable. Some had been put on board without +his knowing and he thought it strange Wyndham had not talked about its +cost. For example, there were small pearls. One found pearls at places +on the Caribbean, but the fisheries were jealously guarded and none were +near the lagoon. Then there was a packet of ambergris and Marston knew +ambergris was worth much. Don Felix had said nothing about this curious +stuff, which the cachalot whales throw up, and Marston wondered where +Wyndham had got it. + +The voyage was obviously going to pay, but the strange thing was, their +cargo for the most part had come down after the agent died. To some +extent this bore out Marston's conclusion that the old mulatto was the +Bat and had power over Don Felix's uncivilized customers. Marston began +to muse about the fellow. He had power; one felt it, although he was old +and repulsive. Something indicated that he had inherited from his white +ancestors qualities not often found in half-breeds. Marston began to see +that this was partly why the fellow repelled him; one got a hint of +intelligence put to a base use. + +The matter was not important, and he pondered about his finding Wyndham +and the other in the cabin. Harry was badly shaken, although Marston +knew his pluck. Something very strange and startling was needed to drive +the blood from his face and bring the sweat to his forehead. All the +same, it was ridiculous to imagine the mulatto had frightened him. The +old fellow was clever and no doubt claimed to be a magician in the +bush, but Harry was not the man to be cheated by his tricks. After a +time, Marston gave it up and went on deck. + +_Columbine_ leaned over to the steady breeze. The sea was flecked with +white and a spray shower leaped about her bows. A foaming wake trailed +behind her and Marston's heart got light as he heard the shrouds hum and +felt her measured swing. He liked the sense of speed and buoyancy, the +feeling that he had control of straining wood and sail. To fight the +sudden wild Northers and keep her off reefs and shoals was a man's job, +but it was a job he knew. He did not know the other that Mabel had given +him, and often felt puzzled. Yet he had undertaken it and meant to make +good. By-and-by he went down to the cabin and to bed. + +After a quick run he reached port, transacted some business, shipped his +cargo home by steamer, and then returned to the lagoon, where he found +Wyndham had another load ready. On the night after his arrival they sat +in the cabin, talking, and although Wyndham said nothing about the +mulatto he was frank. Indeed, Marston smiled when he remembered the +doubts with which he had left his comrade. All the same, he thought he +noted something about Harry he had not known before. + +"You will sail again as soon as we can load the cargo, but for another +port," Wyndham said. "We have, so to speak, found a treasure house and +want to keep it dark. If other folks get to know, the treasure will soon +be picked up. Anybody can buy a pretty good chart of the coast for a few +shillings, and we have been lucky so far, largely because the shoals +keep steamers out." + +"The thing will be known sometime," Marston remarked. + +"Of course, but I hope to get the most part of the stuff that's worth +getting before our rivals come in." + +"After that you'll let this branch of the business go?" + +"I think not," Wyndham replied. "If I can find a good agent, we ought to +hold our ground in the regular trade, although the profits will not be +large." + +"But you, yourself, don't mean to stay very long?" + +"No," said Wyndham. "When I get the best of the produce that seems to +have been piling up and appoint our agent, I'll willingly clear out; but +I don't expect to do so for three or four months. I've got my chance now +and must seize it." + +"Three months is a long time to stay at the lagoon. Besides, who will +look after the business at home?" + +"My manager is pretty capable, though he's young and recently promoted. +Would you like to go?" + +Marston laughed. "I'm not a business man. Would you trust me?" + +"I don't think it would be rash. You're a careful fellow, Bob, and it +begins to look as if you had talents you didn't know. You have +transacted our business like a shipping clerk." + +For a moment or two Marston hesitated. Wyndham looked amused and Bob +admitted that the situation had a touch of humor. He meant to stay at a +place for which he had a strange, superstitious dislike, in order to +help his comrade, who would sooner be left alone. + +"I may go by-and-by, but I won't go yet," he replied. + +They let the matter drop and in the morning Wyndham went up the creek in +the boat. He stated, rather vaguely, that he must arrange about some +cargo and it was three or four days before he returned. Then Marston +sailed with another load for a different port, and the French creole who +shipped the goods to England was frankly surprised by their value. +Indeed, his remarks indicated that the freight was worth much more than +Marston had thought. The latter returned to the lagoon, satisfied in one +way, but disturbed in another, and did not see much of his comrade. + +Wyndham often left the vessel, and although he did not tell Marston +where he went, the loaded canoes that came down the creek hinted that he +was usefully engaged. It was plain that the business was remarkably +profitable, but Marston imagined Wyndham was overdoing the thing. He +began to look worn and was sometimes moody, for a white man cannot +strain brain and body hard in the tropic swamps. + +Marston got uneasy about him, but to some extent sympathized. They could +not long enjoy their monopoly, rivals would soon be attracted to the +lagoon, and Harry was justified in seizing his chance. He had not +thought Harry greedy, but there was much at stake; Chisholm's approval, +Harry's business standing, and his marriage to Flora. Marston could +understand his comrade's running heavy risks for a girl like that. + +Still he was bothered because he did not know all the risks; it was +possible that Harry was being driven far by his very natural ambition, +but there were lengths to which one ought not to go. + +Another thing puzzled Marston. Don Felix had known the negroes and had, +moreover, negro blood in his veins, but the trade had not extended until +he was dead. It was strange the efforts of a white man and a stranger +had led to the sudden extension. Harry had obviously qualities and +knowledge that had not marked the other. But what were the qualities, +and what did he know? Although Marston sometimes brooded over this, he +saw no light. + +One evening he sat in the cabin and studied their trading accounts while +Wyndham smoked. It was very hot and Marston's face and hands were wet +with sweat and his eyes were dazzled. Flies hovered about the light and +now and then a beetle struck the mosquito gauze in the skylight. +Presently Marston put down his pen and frowned. + +"My brain's dull to-night," he said. "I ought to be satisfied with the +results of our venture, but there are things I don't see quite plain. +For example, we have got a lot of stuff for which we don't seem to have +paid." + +"You are supercargo," Wyndham rejoined. "The accounts are yours and +they're remarkably accurate. All we have got is properly charged against +us." + +"That is so; I have used your figures. All the same, we haven't handed +over much money." + +"The business is largely done by barter." + +"Of course," said Marston, with a touch of impatience. "We haven't +delivered much goods against the account." + +"The goods will be delivered. Our customers haven't yet stated the +articles they want." + +"This means they trust us until we can bring the stuff from England or +America? In fact, they're willing to trust us for some time?" + +"It looks like that," said Wyndham and laughed. "Are you puzzled about +it, Bob? After all, Wyndhams' has long traded here and the house's +reputation is obviously pretty good." + +"But I understand your agents never got such stuff as we have got." + +"They were agents and we are principals; I expect that accounts for +something," Wyndham replied with a twinkle. "Besides, Wyndhams' never +had a supercargo like you." + +Marston frowned and tried to think of some other matters that had +excited his curiosity, but could not make the effort, and Wyndham put a +bottle and glasses on the table. + +"Shut the books and I'll mix a cocktail," he said. "You're working too +hard and it's very hot." + +They went to bed soon afterwards and when he awoke Marston's head ached +and he did not get up. He thought he had a dose of fever and felt +strangely annoyed. Somehow he had not expected to get fever; he had +thought Harry might get it, and to be kept in his bunk was a +complication he had not reckoned on. Although Wyndham dosed him as the +medical book directed, the fever did not abate. For some days he tossed +about in his narrow bunk with a throbbing head and pain in his limbs, +and then lay half-conscious in limp exhaustion. He had strange dreams +and long remembered ones; indeed, he sometimes doubted if it were all a +dream. + +He imagined he was back at the factory on the African river and +Wyndham's uncle, the man who vanished, was in the big mildewed room. +Marston saw him come out of his door and stand for a moment listening, +with his face touched by the moonlight; and then run forward and stop by +the body on the boards. The dream was horribly vivid and real, but the +big room got hazy and melted, as it were, into _Columbine_'s cabin. + +Marston saw the lamp, turned low, hang at an angle to the beams, and the +charts and cargo books in the net rack. He smelt the mud and heard the +ripples splash against the schooner's side. Somebody sat in front of the +table and when the man looked up he saw it was Rupert Wyndham. Marston +knew him because he had seen his portrait, but his hair had gone white +and his skin very dark. In fact, he did not look like a white man. He +got up and his face and bent figure melted as the room at the factory +had melted, but very slowly got distinct again and Marston thrilled with +repulsion and horror. Rupert Wyndham had changed to the old mulatto. + +His naked feet made no noise as he crossed the floor and Marston +struggled to get up but could not. His lips refused to move when he +tried to call for help; the old fellow had fixed his bloodshot eyes on +him and he felt powerless. The mulatto stopped by his bunk, holding out +a glass, and Marston knew he meant to poison him. He resolved he would +not drink, but felt he must. There was something in the fellow's steady +look that broke his resistance and for a few moments he fought a +horrible battle against a strange conquering force. Then he took the +glass and drained it, and the mulatto melted away. He did not vanish. +This implied suddenness; he faded out of the cabin by imperceptible +degrees. + +Marston knew no more and awoke in daylight, haunted by the dream. He was +surprised to feel he was not worse; indeed, his head did not ache and +although he was very weak the pain in his limbs had gone. His throat was +parched and there was a strange taste in his mouth, as if he had +swallowed the draught he dreamed about. Wyndham sat on the locker and +got up when he saw Marston was awake. + +"You look different. I think you have seen the worst," he said. "I've +been bothered about you, Bob." + +Marston smiled. He did not want to talk and the relief he saw in his +comrade's face was soothing. He went to sleep again and it was dark when +he awoke. He did not dream that night and in a few days got, rather +shakily, out of his bunk. Wyndham put some cushions for him on the +locker and they began to talk. + +"The boat's full to the hatches and we go to sea to-morrow," Wyndham +said. "If the wind keeps fair, I expect to put you on board the Spanish +liner for the Canaries in three or four days. You'll transfer to a +homeward Cape boat when you arrive." + +"But I don't want to go home yet," Marston objected. + +"You are going all the same," Wyndham declared. "You have been very ill +and a sick man hasn't much chance in this miasmatic air. There's no use +in arguing; you have got to go." + +Marston grumbled, but they sailed with the next high tide, and when they +made the port where the Spanish steamer lay he let Wyndham help him on +board. + + + + +PART II + +WYNDHAM CLAIMS HIS REWARD + + + + +CHAPTER I + +MABEL PONDERS + + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Marston sat by a window in an +English country house. His pose was limp and his face was thin, for the +fever had shaken him, but he felt his strength coming back. Outside, +bare trees shook their branches in a fresh west wind, and a white belt +of surf crept across the shining sands in the broad estuary. On the +other side, the Welsh hills rose against the sunset in a smooth black +line. + +Marston felt pleasantly languid and altogether satisfied. Mabel had put +a cushion under his head and given him a footstool. It was soothing to +be taken care of by one whom one loved, and after the glare of the +Caribbean and the gloom of the swamps, the soft colors and changing +lights of the English landscape rested his eyes. For all that, they did +not wander long from Mabel, who sat close by, quietly pondering. With +her yellow hair and delicate pink skin she looked very English, and all +that was English had an extra charm for Marston. He liked her thoughtful +calm. Mabel was normal; she, so to speak, walked in the light, and the +extravagant imaginings he had indulged at the lagoon vanished when she +was about. + +Yet he had been forced to remember much, for Chisholm and Flora had come +to hear his story, and he had felt he must make them understand in +order to do his comrade justice. Flora's grateful glance and the sparkle +in Chisholm's eyes hinted that he had not altogether failed. + +"It's a moving tale; I felt I was young again," Chisholm remarked when +Marston stopped. "A daring voyage for a craft as old as _Columbine_ and +Harry obviously handled her well. Some folks declare we're decadent, but +my notion is, a race that loves the sea can't lose its vigor, and the +spirit that sent out the old adventurers is living yet. Well, I wish I +had been with you!" He paused with an apologetic smile and turned to +Flora. "It's plain that Harry has qualities." + +"He has a good partner," Flora replied and gave Marston a friendly nod. +"I mean that, Bob." + +"The persistence of the family type is a curious thing," Chisholm +resumed. "In old times, Wyndhams' sent out slavers and privateers, and +although Harry's modern, he's taking the path his ancestors trod. Well, +in a sense, he's lucky, because he can make seafaring pay. The rest of +us must indulge it tamely on board a yacht and, however you economize, +yachting costs you much." + +"Harry has a talent for making his occupations pay," Marston agreed and +noted that Flora knitted her brows. + +"You are romantic, father," she said. "I don't think Harry is taking his +ancestors' path. They were hard and reckless men and traded in flesh and +blood. You trade in rubber and dyewoods, don't you, Bob?" + +"For the most part. However, we get a bit of everything; ambergris, +pearls, and curious drugs." + +"I like pearls," Flora remarked, but stopped rather abruptly and Mabel +gave Marston a quick glance. He thought he saw what she meant; he must +not talk about pearls just then. + +After a time Flora said they must go, and went out with Mabel, but +Chisholm stopped by Marston's chair. + +"It looks as if you were quite satisfied about this venture of +Wyndham's, Bob," he said. + +"Why, yes," Marston replied. "I've backed my approval by investing a +good sum." + +Chisholm was quiet for a moment or two, and then resumed: "That is not +altogether what I meant; in fact, it's hard to state frankly what I do +mean. I like Harry Wyndham. He's clever, resolute, and a good sportsman, +but when he wanted to marry Flora I hesitated. Well, your story has +given me some comfort. You have been with Wyndham and are satisfied. One +can trust you." + +"You are very kind, sir," Marston answered with a touch of awkwardness. +"The business is risky, the climate's bad, and one must use some +control. Leave liquor alone, for example; I think you understand! Still +Harry's rather a Spartan; there's an ascetic vein in him. Besides, he +won't stay long. As soon as he has put things straight he's coming +back." + +"Thank you," said Chisholm, but when he went off Marston felt +embarrassed. + +Chisholm trusted him and he was not sure he had been altogether frank. +Wyndham, of course, was free from certain gross temptations to which +some white men in the tropics were victims; but there were others, +subtle and insidious, that rather appealed to the brain than the body. +Marston could not declare that Harry resisted these. Yet it was +impossible he should tell Chisholm his vague but disturbing doubts. It +was some relief when Mabel returned and sat down opposite. + +"Have they tired you, Bob?" she asked. "Light a cigarette and don't talk +unless you want." + +"I want to talk," said Marston, who used no reserve with her. + +"Very well. To begin with, you saw my hint when Flora talked about the +pearls." + +Marston laughed. "After all, I'm not so dull as some people think. You +didn't want Flora to know I had brought you pearls?" + +"Something like that. Why did Harry send her none?" + +"It's rather puzzling," Marston replied thoughtfully. "I suggested I +should take a few to Flora, but he said they were not good enough. +They're not really first-class pearls, you know. Then he said they might +be unlucky. The strange thing is, I think he meant it." + +"Yet you brought some for me? You're honest, but you don't always use +much tact, dear Bob!" + +"Oh, well. We're not superstitious and I'd no grounds for thinking the +pearls would bring bad luck." + +"It looks as if your partner had some grounds." + +"Yes," said Marston. "I don't understand the thing. For that matter, I +was puzzled about other things now and then, and although I wanted to +get back to you I felt shabby about coming home. Somehow I had a notion +I ought to stay. After all, you let me go and would like me to finish my +job." + +"You're rather a dear and very staunch," Mabel remarked with a gentle +smile. "Anyhow, you were ill and had done enough." + +She was quiet for a time and Marston was satisfied to smoke and study +her. It had got dark, but the fire was bright and touched her face while +she sat still, as if lost in concentrated thought. Marston thought her +beautiful and she had beauty, but her beauty was not her strongest +charm. + +"Bob," she remarked presently, "yours was a curious dream." + +"I had fever, you know, but the thing was remarkably real. It was like +lantern pictures melting on the screen. Background and figures were +accurate and lifelike. In the last scene, I knew I was in _Columbine_'s +cabin and can hardly persuade myself I was quite asleep. The tide +splashed about the boat; I could smell the mud." + +"Yet you saw Wyndham's uncle change into the horrible old mulatto." + +Marston nodded. "He faded and got distinct again, different, but not +different altogether. This was the puzzling thing. However, the story +the agent told us about the Leopards had haunted me and I'd often +thought about Rupert Wyndham. Perhaps it was because I saw his portrait +and he was like my partner." + +"You mean he was like him physically?" + +"That's not all. Of course a portrait doesn't tell one very much, but I +thought Harry had Rupert's temperament." + +"I see," said Mabel, knitting her straight brows. "To begin with, do you +know Rupert Wyndham's temperament?" + +"In a way; Harry and Ellams, the agent, talked about him much. He was a +daring man; I think reckless is the proper word. We sober folks have our +code, we must do this and not the other; men like Rupert Wyndham have +none. If a thing looked worth getting, he'd venture much and break rules +for it. Harry, you know, is like that; I mean he'd venture much. Well, I +think Rupert made some rash experiments in Africa. He studied the +negroes' habits and tried to get their point of view." + +"With an object, you suggest? What did he want?" + +"Harry imagined it was power." + +"Ah," said Mabel. "Harry wants Flora. And he has Rupert's recklessness!" + +Marston made a sign of disagreement. "There's a difference. A man might +do much for power; but for a girl like Flora he must be fastidious. It +wouldn't help if he got money and lost her respect. Harry knows this. +He's not a fool." + +"But suppose Flora didn't know how he got his money?" + +"Harry doesn't cheat. He wouldn't use means she disapproved and then +claim his reward." + +"Oh, well," said Mabel, "I think we'll let it go. I like you to trust +your friends." + +Soon afterwards a car came to the steps and Mabel saw that Marston put +on a warm scarf and fastened his collar before he drove off. Then she +went back to the fire and pondered his story and subsequent remarks. The +story was strange, but she thought she saw a light where all was dark to +Bob. She had long suspected that Wyndham was reckless and would not be +bound by rules if the prize he sought made his breaking them worth +while. Moreover, she had got books about West Africa and the Caribbean +that touched on Fetish and Voodoo superstitions. Perhaps she was +romantic, but it was possible Wyndham, led by strong temptation, had +ventured where a white man ought not to go. With an effort, Mabel +banished her doubts. After all, the thing was unthinkable. Bob had not +been cheated; he knew Harry. + +In the morning, Marston occupied himself with some old books in +Wyndhams' office at the top of a big stone building. The office was +comfortably furnished and there was a good picture of an old-fashioned +sailing ship on the wall; the big single-top sails indicated when she +was built. At the end of the street the window commanded, the masts and +funnels of channel steamers rose above a warehouse where Wyndhams' barks +and brigs had loaded goods they bartered for slaves. Marston glanced at +the modern iron masts and smiled when he looked up, for the book he +studied had nothing to do with business. + +It was the log of the slaver _Providence_ that Wyndham had talked about, +and it related how they towed her with the boats when the negroes died +in the suffocating hold. There was something about a sacrifice that did +not bring the needed wind and its cost was charged against the freight. +They were hard men, touched by strange superstitions, who towed the +_Providence_, but their brutality was businesslike. Marston found an +entry for the negroes used up at the oars, with their value at Jamaica +properly noted. + +After a time, he shut the log-book. He had read enough and resolved +there would be a break in some of Wyndhams' traditions now he was a +partner in the house. He had noted things he did not like, and Harry +would support his new plans when he came home. By and by he heard steps +in the clerks' office and a broker was announced. The latter came in and +put a small brown jar on the table. + +"I told your people we wanted some hard oil and they sent us samples," +he said. "If the bulk's quite up to specimen, I think it ought to meet +the bill. We must have prime quality for the particular job." + +Marston picked up the jar, which held a quantity of thick yellow grease. +It was palm oil and its strong but rather pleasant smell awoke vivid +memories. He saw the whitewashed factory shine beside the muddy river +and a gang of naked negroes filling big barrels in a compound tunneled +by land-crabs' holes. The compound glowed with light against a +background of forest wrapped in unchanging gloom, from which the palm +oil came. For all that, the oil was a well-known article of commerce. +There was nothing mysterious about its production and Marston would have +been satisfied had Wyndhams' confined its trade to stuff like this. Then +he saw the broker was waiting. + +"Don't samples generally stand for the bulk?" he asked. + +The broker looked at him rather sharply and smiled. + +"It depends upon the people with whom you deal and the skill of their +warehouseman. A man who knows his job can draw samples that will pass a +good-middling lot as prime, and this without the buyer's being able to +claim that they're not fairly representative. But of course, you +know----" + +"I don't know. You see, I'm a beginner," Marston replied, and examined a +ticket stuck in the oil. "Well, I saw this lot barreled in Africa. The +quality is _not_ prime." + +The broker looked surprised and annoyed. "Then your manager has made +things rather awkward for us. One uses some judgment about samples, but +our customer must have a first-class article and we engaged to supply +him at a stated price. I'll own that the price was a little below what +others asked. We quoted on your offer." + +"Our offer stands," said Marston, who indicated the jar. "Will you be +satisfied if the oil we send is all like this?" + +"We will be quite satisfied." + +"Very well. Send in the order and you'll get the quality you want." + +The broker lighted a cigarette and gave Marston his case. "I like the +way you do business. We are buying for big people, the trade's steady +and good, but we haven't dealt much with Wyndhams' before. If this lot's +all right, other orders will follow." + +"You can take it for granted the lot will be all right," Marston +replied. + +He frowned when the broker went out. It looked as if Wyndhams' goods had +not always been up to sample and Marston remembered hints he heard about +the character of the house. Harry, however had not long had control and +had, perhaps, left things to his clerks. It was going to be different +now. + +Presently Marston got up and went to the general office where he +interviewed the young manager. He did not say much, but he was very +firm and when he returned to his room the other shrugged. + +"If the new partner takes this line, your next balance sheet won't be +good," he remarked to the book-keeper. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MABEL'S PEARLS + + +Four months after Marston reached England, Wyndham came home. He had got +thin and, when he was quiet, looked worn, but he had returned in triumph +and soon persuaded Marston that his efforts had earned a rich reward. +Things had gone better than his letters indicated. + +On the evening of his arrival, he waited in Flora's drawing-room for +Chisholm, who had not yet got back from his office at the port. Electric +lights burned above the mantel and Wyndham sat by the cheerful fire, +with Flora in a low chair opposite. For a time she had listened while he +talked, and now her eyes rested on him with keen but tranquil +satisfaction. Harry had come back, as she had known he would come, like +a conqueror. She was proud that he had justified her trust, and although +it had been hard to let him go, this did not matter. + +She was ashamed of her hesitation when he first declared himself her +lover, but the suspicion that she was rash had not lasted long. Flora +was loyal and when she had accepted him looked steadily forward. It was +not her habit to doubt and look back. One thing rather disturbed her; +Harry was obviously tired. Before he went away his talk and laugh were +marked by a curious sparkle that Flora thought like the sparkle of wine. +This had gone, but, in a way, she liked him better, although his sober +mood was new. + +By-and-by he glanced about the room, which was rather plainly furnished, +but with a hint of artistic taste. Chisholm was not rich and the taste +was Flora's. Then he moved his chair and leaned forward to the fire with +a languid smile. + +"Our English cold is bracing, but it bites keen when one has known the +tropics," he said. "I like light and warmth." + +"You got both on the Caribbean," Flora remarked. + +"No," said Wyndham, "not much light. For a few hours, the glare was +dazzling, but soon the shadow crept back from the bush and the +fever-mist floated about the boat. On the creek and at the village, you +got a sense of gloom that never melted." He paused and added with a +smile: "It's often like that in the tropics, and the gloom is not +altogether physical." + +Flora noted the thinness of his face and his pallor. Her glance got soft +and pitiful. + +"My dear!" she said. "I wanted you to win; not that I cared for your +winning, but because I wanted you to satisfy others who do not know you +so well." + +"Your father, for example?" he rejoined with a twinkle. "Well, he took +the proper line, but I think I have some arguments that will persuade +him." + +"I sent you," she said, with a touch of color. "Afterwards I saw that I +was shabby and vain. I ought not to have let you go. What did it matter +about the others, when I was satisfied? You have won and they will own +this, but I'm afraid it has cost you much." + +Wyndham gave her a rather sharp glance and then smiled. "One must pay +for what one gets, but, if it's much comfort, I was very willing." + +"You were always generous, but I'm afraid you're sometimes rash." + +"The rashness was justified. If I had to choose again, I'd stake my all, +fortune, mind, and body, and think the risk worth while." + +"You're very nice," said Flora, and added with a blush: "But, in one +way, there was no risk. Even if you had been beaten, I would have +persuaded father. It was rather for his sake you went than mine and +that's why I'm half ashamed. But he deserved something; he has long +indulged me." + +She got up. There were steps in the passage, and Chisholm came in. +Wyndham stayed for dinner and afterwards went with Chisholm to his +smoking-room and gave him a document. + +"My book-keeper drafted the statement, because I thought you ought to +know where I stand," he said. "The sum indicated could be invested for +Flora. Not much of a marriage settlement of course, but perhaps it will +help to banish your very natural doubts." + +Chisholm studied the paper with some surprise. "You have done much +better than I thought; I don't know if this is flattering or not. In +fact, when one remembers that you have not long been head of the house, +your success is rather remarkable." + +"I ran some risks," said Wyndham, smiling. "We have got started; perhaps +I'm optimistic, but I came home persuaded we are going on. It's possible +we may go far." + +"You have a good partner," Chisholm remarked. + +"The best!" Wyndham agreed quietly. + +Chisholm liked his hint of feeling, but hesitated, although there was no +obvious reason for this. He liked Wyndham, and the latter was on the +way to mend his fortune. All the same, he shrank, rather illogically, +from giving his formal consent to the wedding. + +"Well," he said, with something of an effort, "I'm glad your affairs are +going as well as you hoped and I suppose you now expect me to keep my +promise. I've no grounds to refuse and you can marry Flora when she is +ready." + +Wyndham went soon afterwards and Chisholm said to Flora, "You declared +Harry would force me to approve and he has done so." + +"What do you approve?" Flora asked, smiling. + +"Oh, well," said Chisholm, "I think I see what you suggest. Looks as if +I must be frank. Since my duty is to take care of you, it's a big relief +to find Harry is a good business man and is going to make Wyndhams' +prosperous. I like to feel he's able to give you all you ought to have." + +Flora's glance was proud. "I want you to be satisfied, and it was for +this I let Harry go. I would not have hesitated had he come back +disappointed and poor. Now I feel half cheated, because, in one way, he +doesn't need my help." + +"You are a plucky girl," said Chisholm. "Still I expect it's better he +has come back rich. After all, romance wears off, and then, if money's +short, the strain begins." + +"Your philosophy's not very good," Flora rejoined with a laugh. "Real +romance never wears off; the strain's the test that marks the difference +between the true and false. However, since you have carried out your +duty and used a caution that's rather new, you ought to be happy." + +She kissed him and he let her go, but he was thoughtful afterwards. He +felt he ought to be happy, but somehow he was not. By-and-by he got up +and went to meet Mabel and Marston, whom he heard come in. A famous +Shakespearian actor was visiting the town and Marston had called to +suggest that they should see the play together. They fixed a night, +without knowing in which of his favorite parts the tragedian would +appear. Mabel said this was not important, because he was good in all. + +When the car stopped at the theater she went with Flora to the +cloak-room and began to take off her furs in front of a long glass. As +she did so she hesitated, because she remembered something she ought to +have remembered before. It was too late now, for as the cloak slipped +off her shoulders a string of small pearls caught the light. Flora had +not long since said she liked pearls. Then Mabel saw that Flora had seen +the pearls, and thought she had noted her hesitation, because she +smiled. + +"They are very pretty," Flora remarked. "I suppose Bob gave them to +you?" + +"They are small," said Mabel deprecatingly, but not because she did not +value her lover's present. "Bob said something about their not getting +any Harry thought good enough to send home." + +"Bob and you are very nice, but you're sometimes obvious," Flora +rejoined. "However, I'm not jealous, and if the pearls are small, they +stand for much." + +"These stand for endurance and bold adventure. I think Bob did not get +them easily." + +"That would not matter to Bob," said Flora. "But I wonder what they cost +the others, the dark-skinned men who found them on the sands beneath the +Caribbean. Pearls, you know, sometimes stand for tears." She moved from +the glass, for the room was filling, and smiled as she resumed: "I don't +know why I indulge a morbid sentiment when I'm happy. You will never +have much grounds to cry for Bob." + +They went down a passage and found their places in the stalls. The house +was full and Marston had engaged such seats as he could get. Wyndham, +Flora and Chisholm were in front; Mabel and Marston in the row behind. + +"_Macbeth!_" he said as he gave Mabel a program. "Rather curious; but I +like the play. Kind of plot one can understand." + +"Why is it curious?" Mabel asked. "Don't you understand them all?" + +"Not like this," said Marston, with a touch of awkwardness. "The +motto--or d'you call it the motive?--is plain from the start. 'Ambition +that over-leaps itself,' if I'm quoting right." + +Mabel said nothing. Bob was not clever, but he was sometimes shrewd and +she saw what was in his mind. This was easier because he looked +uncomfortable. The poor fellow felt he had not been quite loyal to his +friend. Then Mabel frowned. Perhaps Bob had seen clearly; there _was_ a +parallel. + +The lights went out and when the curtain rose Marston tried to banish +his disturbing thoughts and enjoy the play. He had seen it often, but +the story gripped him with a force he had not felt before. All was well +done. Pale flames played round the witches' cauldron, and there was +something strangely suggestive about the bent figures that hovered about +the fire and faded in the gloom. He had sometimes thought the +witch-scene unnecessary, but now he felt its significance. In +Shakespeare's days, men believed in witchcraft, and when one had been in +Africa one owned there were powers that ruled the dark. Bob was quiet +and listened, with his mouth firmly set. + +A line caught his notice: "Her husband's to Aleppo gone, the master of +the Tiger." Marston had not thought much about this before, but he saw +the strange, high-pooped old vessel, manned by merchant adventurers, +plunge across the surges of the Levant. She was a type; there were +always merchant adventurers, and he pictured _Columbine_ rolling on the +African surf. + +Then for a time he let the play absorb him. The witches were tempting +Macbeth, flattering his ambition, promising him power. The gloom and the +flickering light round the cauldron recalled Africa; Marston had seen +the naked factory boys crouch beside their fires, tapping little drums, +and singing strange, monotonous songs that sounded like incantations. He +thought about Rupert Wyndham; witches were numerous in Africa and +Marston wondered what they had promised him. Was it power? Or knowledge +the cautious white man shuns? Marston glanced at Wyndham, in front. He +had not spoken since the curtain rose and the pose of his head indicated +that his eyes were fixed on the stage. He was very still and Marston +thought the drama had seized his imagination. + +The cauldron fire leaped up, throwing red reflections that touched a +figure moving in the gloom. Marston wondered whether his eyes were +dazzled, for the hooded figure began to look like the Bat. Then there +was a flash, the witches vanished, and he felt a strange relief when the +curtain fell and the lights went up. + +"Very well done! A realistic scene!" Wyndham remarked, looking round. +"Did you know it was _Macbeth_, Bob?" + +"I did not," said Marston. "If I had known, I think I'd have picked +another night." + +Wyndham looked hard at him, and then laughed and began to talk to Flora, +but Marston felt jarred. Harry laughed like that in moments of tension +when others swore. Then he saw that Mabel was studying him. + +"You are quiet, Bob," she said. + +"It's long since I saw a good play," Marston replied. "My first +relaxation since I got to work, and I expect it grips me harder because +it's fresh. Full house, isn't it? Do you know many people?" + +"I see one or two friends of yours. They have been looking at you, but +you wouldn't turn." + +"I didn't see them," said Marston. "I've got the habit of dropping +people since I joined Wyndhams'. Regular work is something of a novelty +and while the newness lasts you get absorbed. I don't know if it's good +or not. What do you think?" + +Mabel laughed. "Well done, Bob! It cost you something, but you felt you +ought to talk." + +"It oughtn't to have cost me anything," said Marston apologetically. +"But how did you know?" + +"My dear, you're honest and obvious. Besides, we do know things, by +instinct perhaps. I would always know when you were disturbed." + +"I'm not disturbed. You are here." + +"Ah," said Mabel, "now you're very nice! But let's be frank. You were +thinking about another drama, in real life, that touches you close. I +see one comfort; there's no Lady Macbeth in the piece." + +Marston agreed and mused. The light was good, and touched Mabel's face +and neck where the small pearls shone. He saw Flora's face in profile, +her shoulders, and the flowing curve of her arm. He liked the fine poise +of her head. She looked proud and somehow vivid; one got a hint of her +fearless, impulsive character. Her hair and eyes were brown and she wore +a corn-yellow dress. Mabel's skin was white and red, and her dull-blue +clothes matched the color of her eyes. She was calm, steadfast, and +sometimes reserved, a contrast to Flora, although in ways they were +alike. Both were honest and hated what was mean. Marston felt comforted. +There was no Lady Macbeth in the piece. + +Moreover, a glance along the rows of people was calming. There were +business men with shining, bald heads, and some younger whose clothes +were cut in the latest mode. Women of different ages, for the most part +fashionably dressed, sat among the others, but all wore the conventional +English stamp. There was nothing extravagant about them; Marston thought +they sat contentedly by modern hearths. They were not the people to +follow wandering fires. Perhaps he was something of a romantic fool; +but when one had been in Africa and the swamps beside the Caribbean-- + +The play went on. He saw Macbeth's ambitions realized. The witches' +promises were fulfilled, but with fulfillment came retribution that had +looked impossible. This was the touch that fixed Marston's thought. +Macbeth was cheated, but he must pay; the powers of evil lied. One +wondered whether it was always like that. + +When the curtain fell and the lights went up shortly before the end, +Marston remarked: "After all there were the witches. Lady Macbeth was, +so to speak, unnecessary." + +Mabel had indulged him before; indeed, his mood had chimed with hers, +but she thought he had followed this line far enough. His illness had +left a mark, and he sometimes brooded. She laughed when Flora turned. + +"Bob's getting to be a dramatic critic and something of a philosopher," +she said. "Perhaps he'll tell you how he would improve the play." + +"You know what I mean," Marston replied good-humoredly. "Aren't a man's +greed and ambition enough to drive him on, without an outside tempter?" + +"Without a bad woman to urge him?" Flora suggested. + +"When one comes to think of it, a good woman might be as dangerous as +the other," said Marston. + +Mabel frowned. She saw where her lover's remark led, but doubted if the +others did. She forced a laugh when Wyndham looked round. + +"Bob has a flash of imagination now and then," she said. + +"I expect Bob would sooner leave out the witches, now he knows something +about Ghost Leopards and Voodoo," Wyndham replied. "Anyhow, I think the +mummery round the cauldron rather crude; the act was, no doubt, written +to meet the spirit of the times. Temptation by repulsive hags would not +appeal to an up-to-date young man. My notion of a tempter is an urbanely +ironical Mephistopheles." + +Marston said nothing. He remembered the Bat's strange, mocking grin; and +then roused himself and laughed. He was getting morbid; the wretched +fever had shaken him. He joked with Flora until the curtain rose and +when it came down on the closing scene resolved to forget the play. + +"I've ordered supper. It will brace us up," he said. + +They went to a crowded restaurant, and Marston liked the tinkle of +glass, voices, and cheerful laughter, but he shivered when they left the +glittering room and got into the car. + +"Put the rug round you before we start," said Mabel. + +"I think I will," Marston replied, apologetically. "I feel as if my +temperature was up; malaria has an annoying trick of coming back. When +it does come back, you get moody and pessimistic. Sorry if I bored you +to-night!" + +"Perhaps it was malaria, but I wasn't bored," said Mabel, with an +indulgent smile. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PETERS' OFFER + + +Wyndham and Flora were married at a small country church. The morning +was bright and the sun touched the east window with vivid color and +pierced the narrow lancets on the south. Red and green reflections +stained the mosaics inside the chancel rails, but shadows lurked behind +the arches and pillars, for the old building had no clerestory. + +Mabel was bridesmaid, Marston was groomsman, and as he waited for a few +moments by the rails he looked about. Commodore Chisholm had numerous +friends, and for the most part Marston knew the faces turned towards the +chancel. He had sailed hard races against some of the men and danced +with their wives and daughters. They were sober English folk, and he was +glad they had come to stamp with their approval his partner's wedding. +Some, however, he could not see, because they sat back in the gloom. + +Then he glanced at his companions. He was nervous, but Mabel was marked +by her serene calm. Flora's look was rather fixed, and although she had +not much color, her pose was resolute and proud. Marston wondered +whether she felt she was making something of a plunge; but if she did +so, he knew she would not hesitate. Chisholm's face was quiet and +perhaps a trifle stern; he looked rather old, and Marston imagined him +resigned. The Commodore was frank; one generally knew what he felt. All +three looked typically English, but Wyndham did not. Although his eyes +were very blue and his hair was touched by red, he was different from +the others. His face, as Marston saw it in profile, was thin and in a +way ascetic, but it wore a stamp of recklessness. His pose was strangely +alert and highly strung. There was something exotic about him. + +The vicar began the office and Marston remarked with a sense of +annoyance that the church got dark, as if the sun had gone behind a +cloud. He was not superstitious, but he had had enough of gloom, and the +fever had left him with a touch of melancholy. He glanced at Mabel and +felt soothed. Her face was quiet and reverent; she was unostentatiously +religious and her calm confidence banished his doubts. After a few +minutes, the light got stronger, and yielding to a strange impulse, he +looked round. A sunbeam shone through a south window and picked out a +face he knew. Marston moved abruptly and came near forgetting how he was +engaged. + +The face stood out, yellow and withered, against the surrounding shadow. +The eyes were fixed on the wedding group and Marston thought their look +ironical, but the bright beam faded and he wondered whether he had been +deceived. It was hard to believe that Peters, whom he had last seen at +the lagoon, was in the church, and Marston hoped he was not. Peters +belonged to the fever-haunted forest; he brought back the gloom and +sense of mystery Bob wanted to forget. There was something strangely +inappropriate about his coming to Harry's wedding. + +Wyndham turned his head, although the movement hardly seemed enough to +enable him to look across the church. Marston, however, roused himself, +for he had followed the office, and slipped the ring into his comrade's +hand. Wyndham put it on the book, and then as the vicar gave it back, +let it drop. There was a tinkle as it struck the tiles and, for a +moment, an awkward pause. Flora started and Chisholm frowned, but +Marston picked up the ring and when Wyndham put it on Flora's hand, +tried to feel he had not got a jar. Perhaps he was ridiculous, but he +wished Peters had stayed away and Harry had not dropped the ring. + +There was no further mishap, the sun shone out again and as its beams +drove back the shadows the gilded cross above the screen caught the +light and flashed. Mabel looked up. Marston thought her unconscious +movement directed his glance, and he was moved to tenderness and calm. +After the feeling of repugnance Peters had excited, the thing was +strangely significant and he knew the glittering symbol was Mabel's +guiding light. + +The vicar stopped. Flora gave Marston her hand in the vestry and he put +his on Wyndham's shoulder as he wished them happiness. In a few minutes +they went out and when Wyndham's car drove off Marston stood by the gate +with Mabel, waiting for theirs. People stood about talking to one +another, and Marston tried to hide his annoyance when a man outside the +group caught his eye. He had not been deceived; the fellow was Peters, +for he smiled. + +For a moment Marston hesitated. There was, however, no obvious reason +for his refusing to acknowledge Peters, and he nodded when he advanced. +The latter's clothes were in the latest fashion; he wore light gloves +and very neat varnished shoes. At a little distance he looked like a +prosperous Englishman, but as he came up and took off his hat the sun +touched his yellow, deep-lined face and the curious white tufts in his +hair. Then he looked pinched and shriveled. + +"I hardly thought to see you. Indeed, I imagined I had cheated myself," +Marston remarked. + +Peters laughed. "Our meeting is, after all, not strange. I landed a few +days since and stopped to transact some business before I go on to +Hamburg. A paragraph in a newspaper caught my eye, and, having nothing +to do this morning, I thought I'd come to your partner's wedding. Since +I really don't know him well I didn't stop him as he came out." + +"Will you be long in town?" Marston asked. + +"Another day or two," said Peters. "I must try to look you up." + +He stepped back as a car started, and Marston saw no more of him. On the +whole, he thought he had seen enough and was annoyed because Peters was +coming to the office. This, however, was not important and he forgot +about it. + +In the afternoon Mabel and he walked across a heathy common that sloped +to the river mouth. The tide was ebbing and thin white lines of surf +curved about the sands. Here and there a wet belt shone with reflections +from the sky; the woods and fields on the western shore were getting +dim, and a long range of hills rose against the fading light. The soft +colors and the hazy distance, where one heard the sea beat on the outer +shoals, were restful to Marston's eyes. He loved the quiet English +landscape, and glancing at Mabel, half-consciously gave thanks because +he was at home. + +"Who was the strange little man at the church?" Mabel asked presently. + +"Peters," said Marston. "We met him on the Caribbean. Did you think him +strange?" + +"I didn't study him. His eyes were strange; they seemed restless and +very keen. The white tufts in his hair were unusual." + +"Fever leaves its stamp when you get it often," Marston remarked. +"Besides, I expect the fellow has had some romantic adventures. Anyhow, +he's not a friend of ours. We gave him dinner on board because he was a +white man. That's all." + +"I wonder whether Harry saw him, just before he dropped the ring." + +"What do you think?" Marston asked with some curiosity. + +"I don't know. Harry looked round." + +"Oh, well," said Marston. "If Harry did see him, I don't imagine it had +much to do with his dropping the ring." + +Mabel gave him a quiet glance. She knew Bob and thought he was trying to +persuade himself, not to cheat her. + +"Yet you did not like to see the man!" + +"I did not," Marston admitted. "He, so to speak, brought things back; +our agent's dying and the dreams I had when I was ill. Some people +belong to their surroundings. I mean, they stand for the places they +come from, and Peters belongs to the mangrove lagoons. You and Flora +stand for England; spots like this where all's bracing and calm. I think +we'll let Peters go." + +"You're very nice," said Mabel, smiling. "If we are going to flatter +each other, you stand for the sea." + +"No," said Marston. "The sea's restless, breezy, and sparkling, and I'm +not. You have got a rather dull fellow for a lover." + +"Ah," said Mabel quietly, "you are my lover, Bob, and that means much." + +She mused while they crossed the heath in the fading light. Bob was not +what he called breezy and he did not sparkle, but she would not have him +other than he was. She had not often seen him angry, but she knew he +could be strongly moved and forces then set in motion were not easily +stopped. Bob was steadfast; this was, perhaps, the proper word. He had a +reserve of strength and tenacity, of which she thought he was not +altogether conscious. She had loved him long and it was significant that +she loved him better than at the beginning. + +By and by he looked at her. "I grudge Harry nothing and have much for +which I'm thankful. All the same, I envied him his luck to-day." + +"Poor old Bob!" said Mabel "But you know, when I promised----" + +He nodded. "I know and of course I'm satisfied. I can't urge you; but +sometimes, like to-day, waiting's hard." + +Mabel's eyes were very soft. There was love in her glance, but he got a +hint of tears. + +"My dear," she said, "I think you will not be forced to wait very long." +She paused and tried to smile as she resumed: "Never mind, Bob; you +needn't talk! I know your sympathy." + +He said nothing, but took her hand, and she felt comforted. Mrs. +Hilliard was a widow and had long been ill, and Bob had known Mabel +would not marry while her mother needed her. At the beginning, he had +urged that he was able to take care of both, and since he was rich +things might be made easier for the invalid if she lived with them. +Mabel, however, was firm, and Bob gave in. He would not argue that her +sense of duty was perhaps mistaken and Mrs. Hillard's refusal might be +selfish. Mabel's strong persuasion was enough for him. + +"You will come in and see her? She has been alone all day," Mabel said, +and Marston went. + +Mrs. Hilliard sat by the fire in an invalid's chair, and when he entered +gave him a friendly smile. She looked very pinched and fragile and he +thought Mabel's fears were justified. For an hour he talked about the +wedding and other matters as cheerfully as he could, and when he went +Mabel kissed him at the gate. + +"You are very good, Bob," she said. "I owe you much and some day I'll +try to pay my debt." + +In the morning Marston went to the office and soon afterwards Peters was +shown in. Marston gave him a cigar and they talked about the Caribbean. + +"I'm beginning to feel I've had enough," Peters presently remarked. +"Life in the swamps is strenuous and one likes quiet when one's no +longer young." + +"On the surface, things looked pretty dull. I felt languid as soon as I +arrived and didn't really wake up until I left." + +Peters smiled. "Yet I imagine you found the monotony is sometimes +broken. Besides, you didn't stay long enough to learn that much that's +curious goes on beneath the surface. There's an underworld." He paused +and added meaningly: "On the whole, I think the term is pretty good." + +"I was satisfied with the surface. Anyhow, I didn't try to look +beneath," Marston rejoined, with some dryness. "In fact, I'd sooner +leave some things alone." + +"A prudent resolve, when one can carry it out! But d'you imagine your +partner controlled his curiosity?" + +Marston feared that Wyndham had not, and frowned, because he felt Peters +had meant his remark to be significant. The latter resumed: "Of course, +you can live tranquilly at the old Spanish ports; that is, if you are +sober and resist the dark-skinned senoritas' charms. Perhaps the worst +risk a rash stranger runs is being found in a dark _calle_ with a +jealous half-breed's knife in his back. In order to get hurt, you must +court danger; in the swamps it haunts you. Of course, if you trade in +the regular markets, the profit is not large; but if I could get a good +post at a port with a casino and cafes, I think I'd be satisfied." + +"Haven't your employers a job that would suit to offer you?" Marston +asked carelessly. + +"They have not. They have been grumbling recently and hinting that I've +got slack. As a matter of fact, they have some grounds. My knowledge of +the business is pretty extensive, but since your partner came on the +scene the goods we want to get have gone to Wyndhams'. I'm now going to +Hamburg to account for this, but doubt if I can do so satisfactorily. My +explanation's rather romantic than plausible." + +"Then, you have an explanation?" + +Peters smiled. "Yes. It looks as if the Bat had let his old friends go +and taken Wyndham up." + +"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "What has the Bat to do with trade? He's not +a merchant or a cultivator." + +"For all that, the fellow has power. The President rules the cities, the +_guardias rurales_ the cleared land, but the Bat and the devil rule the +bush. I know half-civilized _Mestizos_ who believe the Bat is the devil. +Anyhow, he's a useful friend." + +"He's not my friend," Marston rejoined. "However, if your employers are +not satisfied, I don't see how I can help." + +"I have a plan," said Peters. "I know the bush, the negroes, and their +habits, as few white men know them, and my knowledge is worth much to a +merchant house. Well, I'm not greedy and imagine you'd find it worth +while to give me a small partnership; or, if you'd sooner, appoint me +your agent at a port from which I could control the lagoon trade." + +Marston looked at him with some surprise. On the whole, he did not like +the fellow and he had no grounds for trusting him. + +"I'm afraid I can't agree," he replied. "We have a pretty good agent at +all the ports where we trade, and Wyndham sent a man he was satisfied +about to the lagoon. Our business is not large enough to justify our +taking a new partner." + +"The business is extending. Would you like to talk to Wyndham about it?" + +"He won't be back for some time, and I expect he'll agree that we don't +need help. I think you had better stick to your Hamburg friends." + +"Oh, well," said Peters philosophically, "it looks as if I must drop the +plan, but if you need me later, you know where I can be found. In the +meantime, we'll let it go. When I left, Ramon Larrinaga sent you his +compliments. He's getting an important man; had some part in the plot +that put the new president in power and has, no doubt, claimed his +reward." + +"You may give him our congratulations when you go back," Marston +replied, and soon afterwards Peters went off. + +Marston smoked a cigarette and reviewed his visitor's remarks. The +fellow had implied that Wyndham had, by some means, gained the Bat's +support, and this jarred. Perhaps it jarred worse because Marston had +tried to banish suspicions that chimed with the hint. Then he imagined +Peters' offer was rather made to Wyndham than to him. Marston meant to +urge his partner to refuse. He did not want to see Peters again, but +doubted. The fellow was cunning and obstinate. By-and-by Marston threw +away his cigarette and rang for his clerk. He would not bother about +Peters until he was forced. In fact, if Peters did not come back, he was +not sure he would tell Wyndham about it at all. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE LOST EXPLORERS + + +The days were getting longer and although the evening was cold Marston +rejoiced that winter had gone. He had worked hard at the office until +Wyndham's return from his honeymoon, and now he was glad to get on the +water again. Putting down his oars, he let _Red Rose_'s dinghy drift, +because he doubted if the tide had risen enough to carry him across the +sands. A bitter wind blew up the estuary, where belts of shining water +wound among the shoals, and some distance astern _Red Rose_ rode at her +moorings in a sheltered pool. For half a mile, sand and shallow water +ran between Marston and the beach. + +He had brought the yacht round from a neighboring river mouth where the +smoke of a busy port blackened her gear, and had since been occupied on +board. Now he was pleasantly tired, hungry, and braced by the cold. He +knew no amusement that gave him as much satisfaction as working on board +a yacht. In fact, if one went about the thing properly, it was really a +scientific job. + +The dinghy grounded, and letting her bump across the sand, he lighted +his pipe and reviewed his changed life since Wyndham won the Commodore's +cup. Things had begun to change then. For the most part, he had worked +hard; at first as _Columbine_'s mate and supercargo, afterwards as a +merchant's clerk. Although he had invested a good sum, he was really a +clerk. Sometimes he stated his views and Wyndham listened politely; but +when one came to think about it, Harry did not tell him much. Then he +did not altogether understand transactions in which the house engaged. + +For all that, Marston was not hurt. He admitted that his judgment was +not worth much. He had not, like Harry, been trained for business. In +fact, it was something of a relief when Harry came home and he got rid +of his responsibility, although he thought he had, on the whole, managed +rather well. Recently, he had taken things easier and Wyndham had +encouraged him to do so. He suggested Marston's going off for a few days +now and then, and told him not to bother about the office while he +fitted out _Red Rose_. Harry was a good sort, and since he did not need +him, Marston was glad to occupy himself with the yacht. + +By-and-by the dinghy floated off the shoal and Marston saw the Welsh +hills on the other shore were getting dim and blue. He was cold and +drove the little boat briskly across the rippling water. Carrying her up +the beach, he went to an inn where he left his yachting clothes and then +set out across the heathy common for Mrs. Hilliard's house. Mabel gave +him tea by the fire and when it got dark outside they talked in the +flickering glow. Flora, Wyndham and Chisholm were coming to dinner, but +would not arrive yet, and Marston lounged contentedly in a big easy +chair. + +"I don't know if I'm tired or lazy," he remarked. "Anyhow, it's very +nice to sit by the fire with you." + +"When you're lazy?" said Mabel, with a smile. + +"Always," Marston declared. "However, you get a particular satisfaction +from loafing after you have had a good day." + +"On board the yacht? I'm not jealous, Bob, but you haven't been to the +office much." + +"That is so," Marston admitted. "I was rather keen about the business; +in fact, I'm keen yet. I like to know how things are going, even if I +can't help; but the boat's a temptation and Harry doesn't need me all +the time." + +"Do you know how things are going?" + +"For the most part," Marston replied, with a touch of embarrassment, +because he sometimes felt he did not know as much as he would like. "I +don't bother about small particulars." + +"Has Harry stated he did not need you? Or did you imagine this, and make +it an excuse for a holiday?" + +Marston pondered for a moment or two. He did not altogether approve +Mabel's line, perhaps because it excited doubts he had tried to banish. + +"Harry knows I like pottering about the boat," he said. "He has hinted +that I needn't stick to business quite so close now he's in control. +After all, there's hardly enough work for two partners." + +Mabel let this go. She knew Bob and thought he was rather trying to +justify Wyndham than to find an excuse for his own laziness. It looked +as if he suspected his partner was willing to get rid of him now and +then. Moreover, Bob was not lazy. + +"Harry's occupied pretty closely, is he not?" she said. "I have thought +he looks tired." + +"That is so," agreed Marston, who had recently noted a hint of strain +about his comrade. Wyndham was sometimes impatient; his gay carelessness +had gone. "After all, managing a business like ours is not an easy job," +he resumed. "Things, however, are going well and I imagine I made a +sound investment. In fact, we're getting rich." + +A car rolled up the drive and Mabel rang for lights. Flora, Wyndham, and +Chisholm came in and soon afterwards dinner was served. Mrs. Hilliard +did not come down and Mabel, sitting at the top of the table, studied +her guests. Flora looked charming; she had since her marriage got a +touch of dignity. Mabel thought she was happy, but now and then she gave +her husband a quick glance. Wyndham was thin, and although he talked and +laughed, when he was quiet the jaded look Mabel had remarked was plain. +She knew Bob's mind and his puzzled uneasiness about his partner that he +would not own. Chisholm, she thought, was altogether satisfied, and the +grounds for his satisfaction were obvious. Wyndhams' was prospering, and +his consent to his daughter's marriage was justified. Still, Chisholm +did not see very far. + +When they got up Mabel gave them coffee by the fire in the hall and told +the men to smoke. Chisholm, feeling for his tobacco, pulled a piece of +newspaper from his pocket. + +"Have you read the news to-day?" he asked Wyndham. + +"I have not," Wyndham replied. "One may be able to study newspapers at +the office of a navigation board, but my job is not a sinecure. Besides, +Bob deserted me, and I'd hardly time for lunch." + +"Then, I've something that may interest you. I cut the thing out, in +case you missed it. It's headed, 'A tragic story of tropical +adventure.'" + +Wyndham looked up, rather sharply, and held out his hand for the +cutting, but Marston said to Chisholm, "Suppose you read it. Then we'll +all hear." + +"Very well," said Chisholm, who polished his spectacles and began: + +"'Some time since, a small exploring expedition started inland from the +Salinas coast of the Caribbean.'" He stopped and asked: "Isn't that the +country you are exploiting?" + +"Yes," said Wyndham, with some dryness. "It's not a healthy country for +white explorers, unless they're acclimatized. But go on." + +"'The party consisted of a commercial botanist, a student of tropical +diseases, a mining expert, and a trader stationed on the coast.'" + +"Peters!" said Wyndham, looking at Marston. "No doubt, he persuaded the +others; I expected the fellow would try to get on our track." + +"That's the name," said Chisholm and resumed: + +"'The party engaged a number of half-breed porters and set off, although +they had been warned the bush country was disturbed. The belt of swampy +forest was penetrated by the Spaniards four hundred years since, but it +is, for the most part, little known by white men, and its _Mestizo_ and +negro inhabitants dislike strangers.'" + +"The newspaper man seems remarkably well informed," Wyndham observed. "I +expect he has a correspondent in the neighborhood." + +"'When some time had gone and no news of the explorers reached the +coast, the government got alarmed,'" Chisholm went on. "'Senor +Larrinaga, the head official for the district, fitted out a rescue +expedition and searched the forest. They found one survivor, the trader +Peters, exhausted by suffering.'" + +"Peters said Ramon Larrinaga was getting an important man," Marston +interposed. "Sorry, sir! please don't stop." + +"'Peters' story was tragic. The porters had got uneasy soon after the +start, but their employers forced them to go on, until one night, when +the party stopped at an empty village, they vanished. In the morning, +Peters left his companions, with the object of overtaking the porters, +but lost their track, and returning in two or three days, found the +others dead. They were in a native hut and he saw no indication that +violence had been used. Since the party carried their own provisions, it +did not look as if they had been poisoned. Senor Larrinaga had some +trouble to reach the village. The half-breeds and negroes in the forest +belt are turbulent and rebellious and the rescue party was small. He, +however, pushed on and when he arrived found the hut had been burned and +nobody about. Two of the explorers had previously undertaken the +development of rubber and mining concessions for merchants of this city, +by whom their mysterious fate is much regretted.'" + +Chisholm put down the cutting and the others were silent for a few +moments. Wyndham looked disturbed, but lighted a cigarette, rather +deliberately. + +"Peters ought not to have taken those fellows into the bush. He knew the +risk," he said. + +"The others probably knew it, since the paper states they had done such +work before," Marston replied. + +"I think not. Anyhow, they did not know all the risk. Peters did. It's +significant that he escaped." + +"You don't imply that he ought not to have escaped?" Chisholm said, with +some surprise. + +"Certainly not. Still the fellow's cunning and greedy. I expect he got +up the expedition, and he gambled with his companions' lives. If he had +won, I don't imagine they would have got much of the reward." + +Mabel studied Wyndham. It was plain that he did not like Peters and she +thought he had some grounds for resenting his attempt to explore the +country. Wyndham was a trader and Peters, no doubt, a rival, but she did +not think he was altogether moved by commercial jealousy. Somehow the +thing went deeper than this. His voice was level, but she saw his calm +was forced. Mabel remembered that he had taken some time to light his +cigarette. + +"The half-breeds seem to be a lot of savage brutes," Chisholm remarked. +"What stock do they spring from? The Carib?" + +"The African strain is strongest, and pure negroes are numerous. In +Central and part of South America, it's hard to fix the origin of the +population. About the cities, they've made some progress and a number of +their institutions are good. In the swamps I know best, they have gone +back to rules of life the slaves brought from Africa long since. If you +want to understand them, that's important." + +"Do you think the Bat had anything to do with the explorers getting +killed?" Marston asked. + +"We don't know they were killed, and the Bat's rather a bogey of +yours," Wyndham replied. "Anyhow, from one point of view, perhaps his +efforts to keep out Peters and his gang were justified. The country +belongs to the Bat and his friends; their rules are not ours, but they +suit the people who use them, and I expect they know what often happens +to a colored race when white men take control. Semi-civilization and +industrial servitude, forced on you for others' benefit, are a poor +exchange for liberty." + +"You mean their leaders know?" said Mabel. "They would lose their power +when the white men came?" + +Wyndham said nothing for a moment and Marston imagined he was getting +impatient. Then Flora gave him a puzzled glance and he smiled. + +"Did the fellow you thought the Bat look very powerful, Bob?" he asked. + +"In a way, he did not," said Marston. "He was a dirty, ragged old +impostor--and yet I don't know. Perhaps it was his grin, but you got a +hint that he was a bigger man than he looked. There was something about +him----" + +"Something Mephistophelian?" Wyndham suggested with a twinkle. + +"But Mephistopheles was rather a gentleman," Flora remarked. + +"That's it! You have given me the clew I was feeling for," said Marston. +"You felt the old fellow might have been a gentleman long since and had +degenerated. Now I come to think of it, his confounded grin was +ironical; as if he knew your point of view and laughed at it. In fact, I +imagine he laughed at himself; at his claim to be a magician and the +tricks he used. A cynical brute, perhaps, but he was not a fool." + +"Aren't you getting romantic, Bob?" Flora asked. + +Marston said nothing. He had seen Wyndham's frown and imagined he had +had enough. For a few moments Mabel studied both. She saw Bob wanted to +talk about something else, but she did not mean to help him yet. His +portrait of the old mulatto had given her ground for thought. For one +thing, it had disturbed Wyndham, and she wondered why. She was not +deceived when Wyndham laughed. + +"As a rule, Bob is not romantic, but he was ill before he left the +lagoon and fever excites one's imagination. We'll let it go. Did you +shift the ballast they stowed forward of _Red Rose_'s mast, Bob?" + +"I did. We moved half a ton of iron and she trims much better with it +aft," Marston replied. + +Then they talked about the yacht until Mabel got up and took them to the +drawing-room. She was curious, but in the meantime did not think her +curiosity would be satisfied. Bob knew no more than he had told and it +was plain that Wyndham meant to use reserve. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WYNDHAM CHANGES HIS PLAN + + +There was no wind, the sun was hot, and the reflection of _Red Rose_'s +mast and rigging trembled on the shining sea. She rode at anchor in a +quiet bay, near the woods that rolled down to the smooth white boulders. +Dark firs checkered the fresh green of the beeches and the bronzy yellow +of the new oak leaves. The tide flowed smoothly past the yacht, and +across the strait a lonely cloud threw a soft blue shadow on the scarred +face of a lofty crag. Now and then the echoes of a blasting shot rolled +among the hills. Flora sat in the yacht's cockpit. She wore a pale +yellow dress that harmonized with her brown eyes and hair. Wyndham lay +on the counter, smoking a cigarette, and when she thought he did not see +her Flora gave him a careful glance. After a few days at sea, Harry's +face was getting brown and he was losing his jaded look, but he was thin +and she did not like the way his mouth was set. He had been working hard +for some time, and now he had taken a holiday the strain he had borne +did not relax. Flora did not altogether understand this, because things +were going well with Wyndhams'. + +She looked up the strait. Not far off an old castle stood upon a lawn +where a long green point ran out, and the spot had romantic memories for +her. She had promised to marry Harry on the lawn, one summer night when +the yacht's lanterns twinkled in the roadstead and colored fires burned +on the castle walls. Wyndham lifted his head, and smiled when he saw +where she was looking. + +"It is not very long since, scarcely twelve months, but much has +happened in the meantime," he said. + +"How did you know--?" Flora asked and blushed. + +"Your thoughts were in your eyes; gentle thoughts. It looks as if you +were not disillusioned yet!" + +"I'm not," said Flora, firmly. "For all that, I don't know if I like you +when you're cynical." + +"It's a relapse, or perhaps a reaction. Living up to your standard is a +bit of a strain now and then." + +"Would you sooner I lowered the standard?" + +"Not at all," said Wyndham, with a twinkle. "Keep it as high as you can +for yourself, so long as you are willing to make some allowances for +me." + +"That's a man's point of view," Flora remarked. "However, on the whole, +you're very good. I really don't get many jars." + +She studied him and mused. Harry was all, or very nearly all, she had +thought, and she was happy. Sometimes, perhaps, she wished he would give +her a little more of his confidence, about the office for example. The +control of the extending business was not easy; she saw he had cares he +did not talk about. He was a handsome man and she approved the +fastidious neatness of his white yachting clothes, but he looked +fine-drawn. Flora rather liked this half-ascetic look; Harry had no +gross passions to draw him away from her, although she sometimes feared +she had a rival in his ambition. He was ambitious and did not tell her +much about his plans. + +She looked about. Near the point, a little varnished boat shone in the +strong light. Bob had taken Mabel for a row in the dinghy. + +"I'm sorry for them," she remarked. + +"Sorry for whom?" said Wyndham, and turned his head. "Oh, yes; it's hard +for Bob! Mabel, no doubt, gets some satisfaction from feeling she's +doing what she ought. I, myself, don't know if she ought or not, but +this doesn't matter so long as Bob's persuaded. Well, I suppose she's +worth waiting for and Bob is patient." + +"You are not patient," Flora rejoined. "You refused to wait." + +Wyndham gave her a twinkling smile. "No; I hadn't Bob's advantages. I +seized my chance, and made a plunge. So, I think, did you!" + +"After all, I wasn't very rash. I knew you better than my friends; but +I'll own to feeling proud because they're all satisfied. You were not +very long persuading them." + +"It cost me something," said Wyndham quietly. "However, we'll let it go. +I mean to have a lazy day and brace up for our climbing trip in the +morning. I sent a message that we would need a car." + +Flora nodded and glanced at a peak that rose behind the hills across the +sparkling strait. She was a mountaineer and sometimes wondered whether +she liked best the high rocks or the sea. Then she turned and noted a +long plume of smoke that rolled across the woods. + +"The early boat from town," she said. + +A steamer swung round the point and headed for the yacht, piling the +oily water in a wave at her bows. The thud of her paddles nearly +drowned the music of the band on board, and confused echoes rang among +the trees. A group of passengers forward sang lustily and a row leaned +against the rail. + +"She'll pass pretty close," said Wyndham. "I wonder whether anybody we +know is on board." + +Flora picked up the glasses and Wyndham, resting on his elbow, turned +his head. The steamer drove on, a feather of foam shooting up her stem, +and Wyndham languidly studied the faces of the passengers. Then, when +she was level with the yacht, he moved abruptly, for a short, thin man +with a yellow face sat on a bench, looking at _Red Rose_. + +"Do you see somebody? Shall I give you the glasses?" Flora asked. + +"No," said Wyndham, sharply. "Hold fast! Look out for her wash!" + +Flora seized the coaming and the white wave from the steamer's paddles +lifted the yacht. _Red Rose_ plunged violently and when she steadied, +the passenger boat was slowing near the pier. Flora put down the glasses +and turned to Wyndham. She had seen the little man on the bench and +imagined Harry was studying him. The fellow looked like a foreigner and +she did not like his face. Yet it was strange his being on board the +steamer had annoyed Harry. She thought it had annoyed him, although the +need to warn her about the wash perhaps accounted for the sharpness of +his voice. + +"I saw all I wanted," Wyndham resumed, with a touch of grimness. "I +thought you might drop the glasses when the wave struck us. If I wasn't +lazy, I'd send a complaint to the office about their driving their +boats full speed across a yacht anchorage. Has the splash hurt your +dress?" + +Flora looked down and shook the sparkling drops from the thin material. + +"This stuff won't spoil. A dress that will spoil is no use for yachting; +I've been to sea before." + +Soon afterwards the others returned. They had promised to lunch with +Chisholm at the hotel where Flora and Mabel had a room, but by and by +Wyndham remarked: + +"I feel rather dull and think I won't go ashore. Perhaps you had better +stay, Bob, and we'll fit the new rigging screws. The others look as if +the hooks might draw in a hard breeze." + +"Stay if you like," said Flora. "You have come for a holiday. Are you +sure you feel equal to our climb in the morning?" + +Wyndham hesitated. "I'd hate to disappoint you, but I am lazy. I found +the scramble up the big gully hard enough the last time I went along the +ridge, and I hadn't been to Africa then. After close work in an office, +three thousand feet and some awkward rock climbing is a stiff pull." + +Flora looked at the others. Harry was tired and rather slack, and she +wanted to indulge him. It was something of a relief when Marston played +up. + +"We came for a cruise, not to climb hills," he said. "Let's stop and go +fishing in the dinghy." + +"There aren't many fish and digging bait's a bother," Wyndham replied. +"I've a better plan. The wind will turn east at sunset and there is a +moon. Suppose we run down the coast to Carmeltown and see the Irish +boats finish their cross-channel race?" + +The others agreed and in the evening _Red Rose_ left the anchorage. It +was getting dark when they hoisted sail, but Marston, who occupied with +the halyards, thought he heard a distant shout. Looking round, he saw a +dinghy near the point. + +"Is that somebody hailing us?" he asked. + +"I don't think so," said Wyndham. "There are other boats about. But be +careful; you've got the topsail yard foul of the lift." + +Marston pulled the yard clear, and dropping down the channel through the +sands, they stole out to sea. A light east wind blew behind them, the +water sparkled as the moon rose, and shadowy woods and dark hills opened +out and faded on their port side. The night was warm, the sea ran in +long undulations, wrinkled by the breeze. In the distance one heard surf +break upon the reefs, and now and then a steamer with throbbing engines +went by. Wyndham lounged at the tiller, Marston and Mabel sat under the +booby hatch and talked quietly, while Flora, in the cockpit sang a song. +_Red Rose_, lurching gently with all sail set, headed for the west. + +"Harry's plan is good," Flora remarked when she finished her song. +"There are two grand things, the sea and the mountains; but, on a night +like this, I like the sea best." + +"Then you ought to be happy and I hope you are," rejoined Mabel. "The +trouble about dividing your affection between two objects is, when you +get one you feel you want the other." + +"That is so now and then," Flora agreed. "When you can't have both, you +are forced to choose and choosing's generally hard." + +"You let Harry choose for you. Perhaps it's a good plan, but I don't +know if I'll use it much with Bob." + +Flora laughed and thought Mabel's remark was justified. It looked as if +Harry had meant to leave the strait, although he had said nothing about +this until the passenger boat arrived. Anyhow, it did not matter. She +was glad to indulge him and it was a splendid night for a sail. Flora +was happy and began to sing again. + +The wind freshened as they crossed a rock-fringed bay where a famous +emigrant ship went down. Sparkling ripples flecked the swell, which +presently began to roll in short angry waves. The rigging hummed, a +foaming wake ran astern, and a white ridge stood up about _Red Rose_'s +bows. After a time, Marston and the paid hand set a smaller jib and +hauled down the topsail, and when they had finished Bob stood on deck +looking about. The sea ahead was white and _Red Rose_ rolled hard when +the rising combers picked her up. Astern, the dinghy sheered about and +lifted half her length out of the water when she felt the strain on the +rope. Once or twice she surged forward on a wave, as if she were going +to leap on board. Marston had seen enough and jumped into the cockpit. + +"It's freshening up," he said. "The tide will be running strong round +Carmel when we get there and the sea breaks awkwardly in the race. If +you're going on, we'll heave down a reef and pull the dinghy on deck." + +Wyndham looked at his watch. "I don't know if I'm going on or not. The +flood's running now and there are two nasty races before we reach +Carmel. Suppose we make for Porth Gwynedd? I don't see much use in +getting wet." + +"The Porth's an awkward harbor to enter in the dark," Marston remarked +thoughtfully. + +"I know the way," said Wyndham. "Mrs. Evans will give the girls a room; +we have got her up late at night before. Ask them what they think?" + +Flora and Mabel agreed, Wyndham changed his course, and the dark hills +they were following got nearer. By and by Marston hauled down the +staysail and stood on the deck forward, studying the forbidding coast +Wyndham steered for. + +A narrow strip of gloom, piercing the hills, indicated a valley, and at +its end a dim red light blinked. One could see no entrance. Shadowy +rocks dropped to the water, and a line of foam marked the course of the +tide across a reef. A white belt of surf glimmered without a break at +the foot of the cliffs. + +Wyndham, however, did not hesitate and Flora glanced at him with quiet +confidence. The moonlight touched his face and she liked his calm. One +could trust Harry when there was a strain; she was proud of his pluck +and steady nerve. Besides, he looked strangely handsome and virile as he +controlled the plunging yacht. + +When the white turmoil on the reef was close ahead she saw a break in +the rocks. The gap was dark and very narrow; spouting foam played about +its mouth. Wyndham signed to the fisher lad at the mainsheet, blocks +rattled, and _Red Rose_, swerving, listed over until her lee deck was in +the foam. Showers of spray blew across her, she was sailing very fast, +and Flora knew she would soon be broken on the rocks if Wyndham missed +the harbor mouth. + +They drove past the reef, the long boom lurched across, and _Red Rose_ +rolled violently. Dark rocks towered above her mast and the sails +thrashed and filled in the conflicting gusts, but the water got smooth +and the harbor opened up. Presently Marston jumped to the foot of the +mast and the peak of the mainsail swung down. + +"Starboard!" he shouted. "Look out for the perch!" + +Flora looked under the sail and saw a tall post with iron stays running +from it into the water. She wondered whether the flapping canvas hid it +from Wyndham, because he was slow to move the helm. + +"Starboard it is," he answered after a moment or two, leaning hard on +the tiller as he pushed it across. + +There was a heavy shock, something cracked and broke, and a thick iron +bar ground against the yacht's side. She slowed but did not stop and +when she forged ahead again Marston leaped forward. + +"Bobstay's gone and bowsprit's broken at the cap!" he shouted. + +"Down sail! Ready with the anchor," said Wyndham quietly. + +Marston dropped the anchor under the bows, running chain rattled, and +_Red Rose_ stopped. They pulled up the half-swamped dinghy and when they +had thrown out the water Marston took a rope to a pier. Wyndham went +forward and occupied himself with the wreck at the bows until Marston +returned. + +"We'll need a new bowsprit and she's drawn the stay-bolt on the stem," +he said. "I think that's all, but it will keep us here two or three +days. Perhaps you had better see if you can wake Mrs. Evans before we +land the girls." + +Marston pulled up the harbor and returning after a time said Mrs. Evans +was getting a room ready. Flora and Mabel got on board the dinghy and +when Marston rowed them to the steps Mabel remarked: "I suppose Harry +couldn't see the perch?" + +"He could hear me shout," said Marston. "I made noise enough. If he'd +shoved his helm over, instead of looking for the perch, we'd have gone +past. I don't quite understand it, because Harry's not often slow. +However, a new bowsprit doesn't cost much; the only trouble is, we'll +have to stay while somebody makes it." + +Flora said nothing, although she was somewhat puzzled. On the whole, she +imagined Harry had not looked for the perch; the sail was in his way. He +was slow to move the helm and she thought this strange. All the same, it +was not important, and she talked to Mabel about the Welsh landlady as +they went to the inn. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PETERS RENEWS HIS OFFER + + +Red Rose remained in port for a week. Wyndham needed a stay and +fastenings for the new bowsprit, and although the Welsh ship-chandler +could supply him with galvanized iron articles he sent to Southampton +for copper. Marston thought this curious, but Harry was fastidious about +the boat and for use in salt water copper was better than iron. The +party, however, was not bored. Porth Gwynedd, with its small slate +houses standing between the clear, green water and the quarries that +scarred the face of a hill, was picturesque. The breeze was light and +warm, and sunshine sparkled on the sea. They went fishing, swam about a +sheltered cove, and climbed the rocks. Wyndham's mood was cheerful and +Flora was content. She thought Harry was recovering from the strain; a +rest was all he needed and she was glad she had persuaded him to make +the cruise. + +When the new bowsprit was fitted they set off again along the coast and +stopped at another rock-bound port. A summer hotel stood by a cove +outside the little town, and a day or two after their arrival Marston +and Wyndham lounged on the terrace by the water at the end of the lawn. +The spot was sheltered by a tall cliff, and a thick shrubbery ran +between the grass and terrace. Flora and Mabel occupied a bench in a +nook cut out of the thick foliage. The sun was hot, and all was very +quiet but for the drowsy splash of water on the rocks and the +intermittent rustle of leaves. + +"I like this spot," said Flora. "I have enjoyed the cruise. There's +something about the sea that soothes one." + +"Do you need soothing?" Mabel asked. + +Flora smiled, a rather thoughtful smile. "Not in a way. I've good +grounds for being satisfied; but I had begun to get disturbed about +Harry. He works too hard. No doubt he's forced to bother about his +business, but he looked thin and was sometimes moody." + +"He has done too much," Mabel agreed. "Bob tells me things are going +remarkably well for Wyndhams'. All the same, I expect it has cost Harry +some effort." + +"Harry does not grudge the effort," said Flora. "I grudge it for him. It +was mainly for my sake he went abroad and overtaxed his strength in an +unhealthy climate in order to make Wyndhams' prosperous." She stopped +and looked up, knitting her brows. "Here is the little man I saw on +board the steamer! I wonder what he wants." + +Mabel studied the man who crossed the lawn. She remembered that she had +seen him at Flora's wedding. His face was yellow and wrinkled, and +although he wore light summer clothes made in the latest English fashion +there was something foreign about him. He went towards the shrubbery +with quick resolute steps. + +"It's Peters, somebody Bob and Harry met abroad," Mabel remarked. "No +doubt he's looking for them; they're on the terrace not far off." + +"It's strange, but I feel I'd sooner he hadn't come," said Flora with a +frown. + +The man vanished behind the shrubs and a few moments afterwards Wyndham, +lighting a cigarette on the terrace, dropped the match. + +"Peters!" he exclaimed. + +"Hallo!" said Marston, who turned and gave the newcomer an unfriendly +glance. "We didn't expect you." + +Peters sat down on a bench. "All the same, I have followed you along the +coast for a week. Felt I needed a change after my adventures with the +exploring party, which I dare say you heard about. Business was slack, +and I had a dispute with my employers. I resolved to give up my post, +caught a Royal Mail boat, and here I am." + +"I don't see why you followed us," said Marston, coldly. + +"Then I must explain. Some time since, I suggested your giving me a +partnership. The plan has some extra advantages now." + +"The advantages are not very obvious," Marston rejoined. + +"Let me state them," said Peters, coolly. "The back country behind the +lagoon is disturbed; there are indications that the negroes and +half-breeds mean to rebel and Ramon Larrinaga is resolved to put them +down. It's possible he may do so, but I doubt." + +"I don't know if this is much of an argument for our extending our +business in the neighborhood. But why do you doubt Don Ramon's ability +to keep order?" + +"It's an argument for your putting a man who knows the country in +control. If a rebellion breaks out, there will be opportunities for +business such as one seldom gets; that is, if the situation's cleverly +handled. But we'll let this go in the meantime. Larrinaga has a cunning +antagonist who is much stronger than he thinks." + +"You mean the Bat?" + +Peters nodded. "I expect you have heard about the black Napoleon who +founded a negro state in the Antilles? Well, it's not impossible the Bat +will make himself as powerful as the other." + +"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "Such things can't be done again; the times +have changed." + +"I wonder whether Wyndham thinks it ridiculous. He's better informed +than you," Peters said meaningly. + +Marston turned to Wyndham, but he said nothing. His face was set and he +looked as if he tried to brace himself. + +"You had an example of the Bat's power not long since," Peters went on. +"My exploring companions were poisoned, but not before the tropical +diseases man had made some interesting discoveries. Although the +swamp-belt is unhealthy, malarial fever is not so common as some people +think. In fact, it does not account for all the fatal sickness." + +"Yet strangers die from fever and among the half-breeds the mortality is +large." + +"That is so," Peters agreed. "All the same, my notion is, it's better to +study Obeah than medicine, and, if you want to enjoy good health, +cultivate the friendship of the Bat. He knows how to get rid of people +he disapproves." + +"The brute ought to be shot! However, I don't see what this has got to +do with our giving you a share in our business." + +"I think your partner sees," said Peters, meaningly, and Wyndham +advanced a few steps with his fist clenched. His eyes shone and the +veins on his forehead swelled; but when Marston thought he would seize +the other he stopped a yard or two off. + +"How much do you know?" he asked in a hoarse voice. + +"Nearly all, I think," Peters replied, and turned to Marston. "The Bat +is clever and knows how to use the natural products of the swamps. In +fact, I imagine some of his discoveries would surprise our doctors. He +cannot, however, make all he needs, and somebody has supplied him with +arms and cartridges, besides chemicals and drugs in use in civilized +countries. It's sometimes an advantage to cure your friends as well as +destroy your antagonists, and the power of an up-to-date Obeah man is +not altogether founded on magic." + +"Who has supplied him?" Marston asked, with strange and horrible +misgivings. + +Peters smiled. "You were very dull for some time, but I think you begin +to see. Well, I suppose you can comfort yourself with the reflection +that when you shared the profit you didn't know how it was earned." + +Marston turned and struggled for control when he saw Wyndham's face. The +sweat stood on the latter's forehead and he shrank from his comrade's +glance. + +"Is this true, Harry?" Marston asked. "Have we been backing that +devilish mulatto?" + +"You know now," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "It looks as if you +had got a nasty knock. I'd hoped you would not find out." + +Marston tried to pull himself together. He must be calm, but calm was +hard. Peters gave him a mocking smile. + +"There's something yet. The Bat is not a mulatto." + +"Not a mulatto?" said Marston dully. "What is he then?" + +"A white man. If you're not satisfied, ask your partner. He knows him +best." + +"Who is the Bat, Harry?" + +"Rupert Wyndham," Wyndham answered and turned his head. + +For a moment or two Marston said nothing, and then his lethargy +vanished. Horror gave way to fury and he clenched his hand as he turned +to Peters. + +"You have shot your bolt and missed," he said. "You're a cunning brute, +but all the same a fool. Now get off, or I'll throw you over the wall." + +Peters hesitated. His surprise was plain, and Wyndham's tense face +softened to a grim smile. Peters had not reckoned on Bob. The latter +advanced upon him threateningly. + +"Did you think you could blackmail us?" he resumed with a hoarse laugh. +"That we'd take you for a partner in order to keep you silent while we +got rich? The thing's ridiculous! Now you begin to understand this, +aren't you going?" + +Peters said nothing and went. His mistake was obvious; he might have +forced Wyndham to accept his terms, but he had misjudged Marston. When +he had gone, Marston sat down, rather limply, and there was silence for +a few minutes. + +"Well?" said Wyndham at length. + +Marston looked up. "I have got a knock, but the thing's done and there's +no use in calling myself a careless fool. For all that, I ought to have +seen what was going on; I'm a partner in the house." + +"And if you had seen?" Wyndham asked. + +"I'd have stopped the business and brought you away." + +"It's possible. You're a resolute fellow, Bob. But what are you going to +do about it now?" + +"Put things straight; as far as money can put them straight," said +Marston, quietly. "The cost doesn't matter. It's lucky I am rich." + +"Then you don't mean to break the partnership and give me up?" + +"Certainly not," said Marston in a surprised voice. "We are partners for +good and bad, and Mabel is Flora's friend. When we started for Africa, +she told me my job was to stand by you." + +Wyndham laughed, a bitter laugh. "It looks as if I didn't cheat Mabel +when I cheated all the rest. But you had better let me go before your +staunchness costs you too much." + +"I'm going to stick to you," Marston declared. "I undertook the job; +there's no more to be said." He paused and resumed quietly: "How did you +get into Rupert Wyndham's power?" + +Wyndham's grimness vanished. He looked embarrassed and moved. "You're a +very good sort, Bob. I don't know if I did get into his power; anyhow, +not at first. I rather think ambition carried me away. You have not +known poverty; I doubt if you'll understand." + +"I'll try," said Marston, and Wyndham went on: + +"The house was bankrupt when I got control, and I was in love with +Flora. Perhaps you think it was dishonorable to tell her so. Well, I +haven't your scruples and we Wyndhams like a risk. The worst was, I let +her run a risk she didn't know. We met the Bat at the lagoon and he +showed me how I could get rich. He knew me; I didn't know him at the +beginning. Can't you see the situation? I'd won the girl I loved, but I +must support my wife. I couldn't force her to bear hardship because she +loved me, and, for her sake, I must satisfy her friends. Well, I saw and +seized my chance, and almost before I knew I'd gone so far I could not +draw back." + +"Did you want to draw back?" Marston asked. + +Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "You're cleverer than people think, +Bob. Sometimes I was sorry I had begun, but I imagine I would not have +stopped if I could. I meant to get rich; to give Flora a high place, +and--though the statement looks ironical--to justify myself. Well, I +went on until bad luck sent Peters to pull me up." + +Marston pondered for a moment or two. "Now I understand why the witches +in _Macbeth_ made me think about the Bat; they tempted him with lying +promises. But I'm not much of a philosopher and we have the Bat to +reckon on. Peters doesn't count." + +"Doesn't he count?" Wyndham asked. + +"Not at all," said Marston. "When he told me his secret, he lost the +power to bully you. The fellow's a fool; he thought me greedy." + +"But he can tell others, Larrinaga, for example." + +"That's not important," said Marston quietly. "We don't want to earn +more money by helping the Bat. We're going to put things straight, and +if Larrinaga's government has a just claim on us, we must pay." + +"After all, the Bat's my uncle," Wyndham remarked. + +"Yes," said Marston. "It complicates things. We must go out again and +get him away." + +"Get him away? The man is powerful. I doubt if the government can put +him down." + +"For all that we're going to try." + +"You're an obstinate fellow, Bob. We'll talk about it again. There is +somebody else Peters might tell." + +"Flora? He'll be too late. You must tell her now." + +For a moment or two Wyndham's mouth set firm and the sweat stood on his +forehead. Then he said quietly, "It will be a hard job, desperately +hard; all the same, I suppose it can't be put off. Rupert Wyndham and +the powers he stands for have cheated me, but I must pay." + +Marston made a sign of agreement. "When you have paid, you're free, and +can begin again." + +Then he turned and saw Flora in the narrow path between the bushes. Her +face was white, but her eyes were gentle when she looked at him. "Thank +you, Bob! We owe you much," she said. + +Marston pulled himself together and gave her a friendly smile. Then he +touched Wyndham's arm, as if to encourage him, and left them alone. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY + + +When Marston had gone Flora sat down on the bench. She was pale and +trembled. Wyndham, looking very grim, leaned against the wall. They were +quiet for a moment or two, and then he asked: + +"How much did you hear?" + +"I heard enough," said Flora, with an effort for calm. "I don't +understand it all, but I must understand. I heard Bob's voice, sharp and +angry, and came to see if you were quarreling with the strange little +man. Then I stopped where the shrubs are thick. Perhaps I oughtn't----" + +"It doesn't matter," Wyndham replied. "Bob urged that you must be told +and I think I meant to tell you anyhow. When one is found out, it's +better to plead guilty. Well, what do you want to know?" + +Flora turned her head. His stern coldness hurt. She thought he feared +her judgment would be merciless. Harry did not know her yet. + +"Well?" he said again. + +"I must know all. You helped the man they call the Bat? You sent him +goods he needed; drugs among other things, although you knew he would +use some to poison people and make the superstitious negroes think him a +magician?" + +"Yes," said Wyndham. "At least, I gave him drugs. I don't altogether +know how he used the stuff." + +"He poisoned the explorers who went into the bush." + +"It's possible," said Wyndham. "I think that's all." + +"Still you knew he was cunning and cruel. You knew he killed people who +wouldn't obey him and he used magic." + +"I don't know much about Voodoo and can't state if it's magic or tricks. +However, I imagine the Bat did use it against people who disputed his +rule." + +"He gave you valuable goods; you were getting rich," Flora resumed. Then +she paused and added in a gentler voice: "He gave you pearls; but you +sent me none, although Bob brought some for Mabel. You said they were +unlucky." + +"It looks as if I was a romantic sentimentalist. Anyhow, I didn't want +you to wear pearls I got from the Bat." + +"Yet you were willing to trade with him! You gave him your support!" + +"I did," said Wyndham grimly. "For a tempting price. Now my luck has +turned and I won't get the price. My reward has vanished when it was in +my hands. Nothing is left." + +Flora pondered. In a sense, she thought he exaggerated, because much was +left. All the same, she was glad he had been cheated and the reward for +his wrongdoing had gone. He might have wanted to keep it, and her +refusal to share it might have separated them. Still she would not think +about this yet. She must break down his stern calm and much depended on +the line she took. + +"You misjudged me and perhaps that accounted for your giving way," she +said. "You thought I hadn't pluck enough to marry you when you were +poor? My dear, I loved you and knew you were not rich!" + +"You hadn't known poverty. There was another thing; your father made +stipulations and of course he was justified. I was forced to satisfy him +and your friends. Would you have liked them to pity you for a romantic +fool whom a common adventurer had carried away?" + +"Ah," said Flora, "you didn't know my friends much better than you know +me! Mabel's my friend and she let her lover go away. I think it hurt Bob +when he found out what you had done; but has he turned from you?" + +Wyndham said nothing and she resumed: "However, all this is not +important now. You can't go on. What are you going to do?" + +"It looks as if Bob had made some plans for me. I don't know yet if I'll +consent. My plan is simpler and would save him trouble and risk. It +depends on you if I carry it out." + +Flora gave him a quick glance, for his manner was baffling. He looked +stern and his mouth was set. + +"How does it depend on me?" she asked. + +"I cheated you and your father and you have found me out. You know how +deep in the mud I've gone and it wouldn't be strange if you thought I +might go deeper. I expect you have lost all trust in me. Well, if the +shock's too great, you must give me up. I'll drop out, vanish like my +uncle, and trouble you no more." + +Flora laughed, a hoarse, emotional laugh that shook her and brought the +blood to her skin. + +"You thought I would give you up? You have been afraid of this since you +saw Peters at the church and you dropped the ring? Oh, but you are very +dull! I love you and it was for my sake you did wrong. Well, I am not +afraid to share the punishment. If I could save you, I'd bear it all. +The thing that hurts is, you doubted if I was brave enough." + +"I knew your pluck; you gave me proof when you married me. For all that, +I knew your hatred of shabbiness and wrong. I'm an unsuccessful +criminal." + +"All the same you are my husband," said Flora quietly. + +Wyndham looked hard at her and hesitated. + +"My dear," he said, "I cannot urge this claim. It would hurt less to +leave you than try to keep you if you shrank." + +"Then you doubt me yet?" + +"No. I'm ashamed and humbled. I don't know what I ought to do, or what I +ought to say." + +"There is not much to be said, but it is difficult. Come here, Harry, +and give me your hand. One hates to talk like a moralizing prig and it +does no good; but you have gone down hill for me and I want to help you +back." + +Wyndham came to the bench and she took his hand in hers. "I am your wife +and will not let you go," she went on. "Still you must give up the money +you have earned and put straight the harm you have done. It doesn't +matter if this makes us poor. I can go without much you have given me. +I'd be glad to go without!" + +"Ah," he said with strong emotion, "I didn't know you, Flora! Although +you hate my offense, you mean to stick to me?" + +"My dear! I expect the temptation was very strong and at the beginning +you did not know all you did. It was rather horrible to help a renegade +outcast to plot against civilized rule and try to put in its place +superstitious cruelty. But that's done with. We must think how we can +make good." + +"I can't make good at my cost. You and Bob must pay, and I cheated Bob." + +"Bob will bear you no grudge and I want to help." + +"Very well," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "You have given me a +chance I don't deserve to get straight again, and I'd be a meaner brute +than I am if I let it go." He got up and his face was very resolute. +"Now I'll look for Bob." + +He went off and Flora, although badly shaken, was satisfied. She had +saved her husband from the Bat and from himself. He had not protested +much; on the whole he had been reserved and cold, but she knew he was +moved and one could trust him when he looked like that. She began to +feel comforted and get back her calm. The soft splash of languid waves +on the rocks beyond the terrace was soothing. Except for this, all was +very quiet and the quietness steadied her. + +By-and-by she heard a step, and looking up, saw Peters had come back. He +smiled, but his smile was cruel and she shrank from him with a quick +half-conscious movement. Peters took off his hat. + +"Mrs. Wyndham, I believe?" he said. + +"I am Mrs. Wyndham," Flora replied. "What do you want?" + +"A few minutes' talk. I imagine you will be interested." + +Flora hated him. He knew Harry's offense and meant to use his power; +perhaps to demand money and perhaps for revenge. He had power, but since +she and Bob knew Harry's guilt, not as much as he thought. She wanted to +make him feel the scorn and loathing he excited. All the same, she might +find out something useful if she led him on. He was an unscrupulous +antagonist and she meant to fight for her husband. She made a vague sign +of agreement and Peters sat down on some steps in the terrace wall. + +"Your father holds an important post and your friends are well-known +people," he began. "I expect you value their rather exclusive society." + +"What has this to do with you?" Flora asked. + +Peters made a deprecating gesture. "Wyndhams' has now some standing on +the exchange; the house's credit is pretty good, and people are +beginning to think your husband a clever business man. Wyndham is +clever, but for a man to build up a business he must be known for +something else. If he wants to command people's trust, he must keep +certain rules." + +"I suppose that is so," Flora agreed with forced carelessness. + +"Very well," said Peters. "I'm afraid Wyndhams' new prosperity rests on +an unsafe foundation. A statement about their trade on the Caribbean +would shake it badly; in fact, I doubt if the house would stand the +shock. A merchant must enjoy his customers' confidence and confidence is +soon destroyed." + +"You imply you could destroy the confidence people have in Wyndhams'?" + +"It is possible. For all that, I hesitate-- You see, you, and to some +extent Commodore Chisholm, would be involved in your husband's fall. But +I needn't labor this. You know how prosperous conventional people treat +friends who lose their place." + +Flora struggled for calm, but her eyes flashed and the blood came to her +skin. + +"Oh," she said, forgetting the part she meant to play, "you want a +bribe? Money to be silent? You could not rob my husband, so you came to +me! You think I am weaker and you can work on my fears?" + +"It looks as if he had told you something," Peters remarked coolly. "I +do not think he has told you all." + +There was a step on the path behind them and as Flora turned Marston +advanced. His face was red and very grim. Bob was generally calm, but he +was savage now. + +"Suppose you leave the thing to me? I saw the fellow coming here," he +said to Flora, and stopped in front of Peters. "You haven't gone yet? I +had some trouble to get rid of you before, and don't mean to be bothered +by you again. This is the last annoyance you will give us." + +Moving forward deliberately, he seized the other and swung him off his +feet. Peters was short and light, for fever had worn him thin; Marston +was big and powerful. He got a good hold where the other's clothes were +slack, and lifting him with a strong effort, went up the steps. Peters +kicked and struggled. Marston gasped and when his hat fell off Flora +laughed. She was moved by a reaction after the strain. When Marston +reached the top step he held Peters over the edge of the wall. + +"The tide's low," he said hoarsely, with obvious disappointment. "I was +going to throw you into the water." + +"If you drop me, somebody would find me on the rocks," Peters replied in +a breathless voice, and Flora tried to stop her wild laughter. Her +control was vanishing and the scene was ludicrous. Peters had looked +grotesque while he wriggled in Bob's grasp and now his coolness supplied +a last touch of grim humor. + +"I don't know if it's worth while to go to jail for you and perhaps it's +not," Marston gasped. He put Peters down and shook him savagely. "For a +blackmailer, you're a poor sort of fool. Can't you see yet how you've +muddled things? You can't tell Mrs. Wyndham more than she knows, and I +won't pay you to tell nobody else. You'll get no bribe for letting +Wyndhams' carry on the lagoon trade, because the trade has stopped for +good. It ought to be obvious that your hold on us has gone and now +you're going too." + +He paused and seizing Peter's shoulders turned him round and half pushed +and half threw him across the terrace. Peters fell into a clump of +shrubs, and getting up, stole away in silence. Then Marston turned to +Flora. + +"Sorry! I expect you don't approve, but I felt I must let myself go. +When people make me think about that confounded lagoon I get savage." + +"I do approve," said Flora, trying to be calm. "Perhaps it wasn't really +humorous, but I was forced to laugh. Did you meet Harry? He went to +look for you." + +"No," said Marston. "I want to see him, and after this little exploit +expect you'll be glad to get rid of me. However, I think you have got +rid of the other fellow." + +He found Wyndham writing a letter in the hotel smoking-room, and sitting +down opposite, waited until he looked up. + +"I suppose you told Flora all about it," Marston remarked. + +"I did. Your advice was good." + +"It was better than I thought. If you had waited, Peters would have +given her his story before she knew yours. I found him trying to begin +it a few minutes since." + +"Ah," said Wyndham, "it looks as if I had run some risk! After all, I +don't know." He paused and resumed with emotion: "I admitted everything, +but she trusts me yet; I think she would have trusted me had I put my +confession off. It's strange, but I didn't know how staunch my wife is. +We'll let this go. What did you do with Peters?" + +Marston laughed. "I came near to throwing him over the wall. Held him +over the edge and wanted to let him drop; but the brute suggested that +somebody would find him on the rocks. I saw the force of this, because +the consequences would have been awkward now we have a big job on hand. +It's plain that you will need me." + +"I do need you. It's lucky I have such a partner. I've got to make +restitution and can't do so at my proper cost. Yet I've no claim; I +cheated you, as I cheated my wife. I'm an unsuccessful rogue and didn't +let my scruples bother me until I was found out." + +"That's sentimental extravagance," Marston said with some embarrassment. +"Anyhow, I am your partner and your responsibilities are mine. I don't +disown my debts." + +"The debts are heavy. I ran them up, without your knowing." + +"We can pay," said Marston, smiling. "It won't break us; I'm pretty rich +and mean to see you out. You can count on my help and my money; in fact, +on all I can give. Now that's done with. There's no more to be said." + +Wyndham gave him a quick, grateful glance. "Thanks! You're rash, but I +must try not to disappoint you. Friendship like yours is rare." + +When Marston went off, he sat for a time, looking straight in front. He +felt slack and strangely humbled, but was conscious of a new resolve. +Although he had gone far down hill, it was, perhaps, not too late to +stop. The climb back would be long and hard; he could never reach his +wife's and his friend's level. All the same, he meant to front the +ascent. They had borne much for him, he must, so far as he was able, try +to repay them. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +UP HILL + + +The smoking-room of the Marine Hotel at Carmeltown was crowded with +yachtsmen on the evening after the channel regatta. Marston and Wyndham +occupied a small table, the former trying to read a newspaper while the +latter looked about. The big room echoed with voices, a haze of tobacco +smoke drifted round the pillars, and now and then a peal of laughter +marked the end of an Irish yachtsman's tale. For all that, Wyndham's +face was rather grim, and Marston, looking up by-and-by, thought he was +brooding. + +"Hallo! Here's Elliot," he exclaimed. "S'pose he came across on the +mailboat. I heard her whistle not long since. Thought he was going to +stop and see if they could salve _Deva_. Anyhow, I'd like to hear about +the collision and it looks as if he was making for us." + +"Yes," said Wyndham. "I imagine he wants to see me." + +Elliot crossed the floor, stopping now and then when somebody spoke to +him, and after a time reached Marston's table, where he sat down. + +"I've been trying to get to you for some minutes, but the Irishmen +wouldn't let me pass. The news of my bad luck soon got across," he +remarked. + +"We didn't get much news," said Marston. "What about the boat?" + +"She's gone; cut down to the bilge and sunk in six fathoms. No chance of +salvage and the navigation board is going to blow her up." + +Marston said he was sorry and asked about the collision. + +"To begin with, I want a drink," said Elliot, who called a waiter and +then resumed: "It was dark and hazy, and we were creeping up to the +anchorage at Kingstown with all sail set. I was at the tiller, but the +wind was very light and she would hardly steer; the tide was carrying +her along. Jevons, looking out under the boom, said he saw a steamer's +lights, but just then I heard a North-Wall boat in the fog. You know the +noise they make when they're steaming fast, and the fog's pretty bad +when those boats slow up. I knew she wasn't far off when I saw her +lights; red, white, and green all together. That meant we had to do +something quick." + +Marston nodded. When a steamer's three lights are seen she is heading +direct for the observer. + +"Our flare wasn't handy, and the first match broke," Elliot resumed. +"Reckon I was awkward and not very cool. However, I got a light and it +was a relief when her whistle indicated that she was changing her +course; but while I was fumbling with the matches I forgot the other +boat. So did Jevons; he owned it afterwards. The North-Wall man went +past us, like a train, lights all over the passenger decks and a +four-foot wave rolling off the bows. She left us dazzled and rather +shaken, and then Jevons shouted that the other fellow was close ahead." + +Elliot stopped and drained his glass, and when he went on his voice was +hoarse. "We were crossing her bows, close-hauled on the starboard tack. +Our business, of course, was to carry on, but our lights were low and +not very bright, and as a rule, it's prudent to give a steamer room. +Anyhow, I shoved down the helm to bring her round, and told Jevons to +get out the big oar when I found her slow. The wind was light and she +was plunging on the North-Wall boat's wake. She came headto, and then a +roller hit her bows and she fell off. Jevons was trying to pull her +round, and for two or three moments I saw the steamer's forecastle. She +was a big, clumsy craft, going light, and looked as high as a house. + +"Then there was a crash and the mast went. I saw our side deck crumble +and the other's stem cut through to the cabin top. Mast and boom were +over the side, and when the round of her bow filled our cockpit I knew +it was time to go. By good luck, we had towed the dinghy and the steamer +held up _Deva_ until we got on board. Then as we cut the painter the old +boat broke away, and the steamer went on, over the top of her. I imagine +she stopped, because we heard her whistle in the fog, but we'd had +enough of her and pulled for the beach. We landed at Kingstown, and I +think that's all." + +Marston sympathized and ordered drinks. Elliot drained his glass and +turned to Wyndham. + +"Well," he said, "she was insured and I want another boat. What's your +price for _Red Rose_?" + +"_Red Rose_ is not for sale," Marston interposed. + +"Then why did Forwood tell me you wanted an offer?" + +Marston looked at Wyndham, who nodded. "It's all right, Bob; I'm going +to sell." Then he turned to Elliot and stated a sum. + +"A moderate price!" the other remarked. "I'll admit it's less than I +thought. Is she sound?" + +"She is not," Wyndham replied. "Port side's weak where the strain of the +rigging comes; she needs some new timbers. The covering board ought to +be relaid all round. Keel's shaky aft; the deadwood ought to be +lifted----" + +He indicated the repairs he thought necessary and Elliot looked at him +with surprise. + +"Since you want to sell, aren't you taking a rather unusual line?" + +Wyndham smiled. "I allowed for defects when I fixed the price. The +carpenter's job will be expensive, but if it's properly done, the boat +will afterwards be nearly as good as new. I think you can rely on this." + +Marston gave his partner a puzzled glance and Elliot said, "After your +frankness, I'll buy her and take my chance." + +"I imagine it's a safe investment," Wyndham rejoined. + +For a few moments Elliot was quiet and then he fixed his eyes on Wyndham +and said in a thoughtful voice, "_Red Rose_ is fast and you sailed her +cleverly. All the same, I never understood how you beat us when you won +the Commodore's cup." + +"I imagine I went the wrong side of the Knoll buoy," Wyndham answered +coolly. "Perhaps this gave us some advantage, because the tide runs +longer near the coast." + +Marston moved abruptly, but Wyndham went on: "I'm not certain; but if +you had filed a protest, I wouldn't have claimed the prize. Bob thought +he saw something in the haze. It might have been a gull, but it might +have been the buoy. Anyhow, we went on and the tide carried us along the +shore." + +The short silence that followed had a hint of strain. Wyndham knew +Elliot knew his winning the race had appealed to Flora's imagination. +Moreover, he thought Elliot had wanted to marry Flora and would have had +Chisholm's support. Marston saw they had got on awkward ground, and felt +embarrassed. + +"After all you did beat us and you were not sure it was the buoy," +Elliot said, in a quiet, meaning voice. "It's too late to file a protest +now. Besides, we were talking about the boat----" + +"I'll put her on the hard, if you'd like a proper survey before you +decide." + +"No," said Elliot. "I don't think it's needful. Your statement satisfied +me. I'll buy her." + +He went off and Wyndham gave Marston a smile. "You look surprised, Bob." + +"Let's have another drink," said Marston, who called a waiter and then +resumed awkwardly: "Elliot played up pretty well. I like the fellow; +he's a sportsman, but after all I think it was a gull we saw. Anyhow, we +won't bother about it again. Why have you sold _Red Rose_?" + +"It ought to be obvious. A yacht costs something and my keeping an +expensive toy wouldn't be justified just now." + +"Romantic exaggeration! You're frankly ridiculous," said Marston with +some warmth. "Wyndhams' isn't going broke." + +Wyndham picked up the newspaper and indicated an advertisement. "I +really think I'm logical. Perhaps, this ought to persuade you I've made +up my mind." + +"Preposterous!" Marston exclaimed, throwing down the paper. "Your pretty +new house? Besides, it's Flora's house as well as yours!" + +"Flora agrees," said Wyndham quietly. + +Marston got up and his face was red. "Looks as if you don't mean to let +me help much. It's senseless exaggeration; things aren't as bad as you +make out. However, I've had enough. I'll get angry if I stay." + +"You ought to approve; I imagined you liked a thorough job," Wyndham +rejoined, and Marston frowned as he crossed the floor. + +Men spoke to him as he passed their tables, but he did not stop and +going to the drawing-room found Flora alone. When he came in she put +down her book and indicated an easy chair. + +"Stop and talk to me, Bob. I was beginning to feel neglected," she said. +"But what has happened? You look annoyed." + +"I am rather savage," Marston admitted. "Think I'll stand until I get +cool. Do you know Harry has sold _Red Rose_?" + +"I knew he wanted to sell her," Flora said quietly. + +"This is not all. D'you know about the ridiculous advertisement he's put +in the newspaper?" + +"Of course! I don't altogether see why you are surprised." + +Marston hesitated. He did not want to admit he had been surprised, and, +after studying Flora thought he could not urge that Wyndham's +reformation might be overdone. + +"Anyhow, you can see why I'm annoyed," he said. "I'm Harry's partner and +am going to marry your oldest friend." + +"I have not forgotten this and it helps me to be frank. You're generous, +Bob, but Harry has done wrong and must pay. He cannot make good at +another's cost." + +"The trouble is, _you_ must pay. Your house, for example! You planned +it, you worked out all the colors, and thought where everything ought to +go. The house is beautiful, you're proud of it, and a woman's home means +much to her." + +Flora turned her head for a moment, but when she looked up again her +eyes shone. + +"I would sooner be proud of my husband. I am proud now and am going to +be prouder. Harry has pluck and meeting obstacles spurs him on. Our part +is to encourage him, while he struggles up hill. I know he'll reach the +top." + +"With a wife like you, he ought to go far," said Marston quietly. "I'm +sorry you won't let me help in the way I want, but s'pose I must agree. +Don't know if I'm romantic, but I've felt the world's a better place +since I knew you and Mabel." + +He went off and soon afterwards Chisholm came in, carrying a newspaper. + +"What does this mean?" he asked, indicating an advertisement. "Telford +showed me the paper. Wanted to know why you were selling the house. I +couldn't tell him. Is Harry getting rich so fast that it isn't big +enough?" + +Flora smiled. "The story's rather long, but I think you must be told. If +we stay here, somebody may come in. Let's go to the breakwater." + +She got her hat and crossing a street they reached a long granite wall +that ran out to sea. The languid swell beat against the massive, +dovetailed blocks, the moon was rising above the gray hills, and when +they had passed the landing place there was nobody about. By-and-by +Chisholm indicated a mooring post and, when Flora sat down, leaned +against the granite parapet. + +"My dear," he said, "I've been puzzled recently; had a notion something +was wrong. For all that, Wyndhams' was obviously prosperous, Harry's an +indulgent husband, and I wouldn't own I'd grounds for bothering, until I +saw this advertisement. Well, sometimes it's rash to meddle, but I'm +anxious. Tell me all you can." + +Flora told him and after she stopped he was quiet for a time. The +moonlight touched his face and she saw the lines get deeper. The old +Commodore was deeply moved, but she was glad he did not look stern. + +"I've got a knock and know how you were hurt. You bear it well," he +said. "To some extent, the fault is mine. When Harry wanted to marry you +I doubted but gave way. I ought to have been firm." + +"You are not accountable," Flora replied. "I wanted you to approve, but +I meant to marry Harry. I loved him, though I knew his drawbacks. But +this doesn't matter; I love him now." + +Chisholm looked at her with knitted brows and she saw he was suffering +for her sake. + +"You are very staunch, but I knew this. You say Harry means to make +reparation. Now he's found out, his repentance is strangely thorough." + +"You must not be bitter," said Flora quietly. + +"Very well. Let's be practical. Your husband's job will be hard and +long. He must carry his load, but part will fall on you. It's already +doing so." + +"That is just. Much of the fault was mine. I trusted Harry, and after +all I trust him better; but at the beginning this was not enough. I +wanted you and our friends to know him; to own he had talent and see my +pride in him was founded well. In a way, it was a mean ambition. I +wanted him to get rich. Not because I'm greedy----" + +"I think I understand," Chisholm remarked. "Perhaps we use the money +standard oftener than we ought. It's not high, but all the same, to earn +money demands some useful qualities." He paused and added with a sigh: +"I am poor and know." + +"You are a dear! Your honesty is worth much more money than you could +have earned. Then you're not hard, as some honest people are. You will +not be hard to Harry now he is trying to make amends?" + +"Far from it! What right have I to hurt a broken man?" + +Flora smiled. "Harry is bruised, but not broken. Then, you see, I made +his temptation stronger. When I ought to have held him back I +half-consciously urged him on. It was for my sake he broke rules we try +to keep, and I mustn't grumble if some of his punishment falls on me." + +"After all, you did not know what you did." + +"I ought to have known; I am his wife. But I think you understand, and +there's no more to be said." + +Chisholm got up. "A nasty knock, but we can bear it. You have pluck and +one can't be beaten when one is not afraid." + +They went back silently and near the end of the wall met Wyndham going +to the landing steps. Chisholm stopped and gave him his hand. + +"Flora has told me all," he said. "Your friends will stand by you." + + + + +PART III + +REPARATION + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WYNDHAM PAYS DUTY + + +Red reflections trembled on the sea, a fringe of languid surf broke +along the beach, and as the liner turned a point, a white town that rose +in terraces, glimmered like a pearl. A yellow flag ran up to the +masthead, the throb of engines slowed, and a noisy launch steamed out +from behind the mole. Marston, leaning on the rail, watched her +approach, and his look was thoughtful when he turned to Wyndham. + +"If Don Ramon got our telegram, he's probably on board," he said. "I +hope he is, because if he doesn't come it might imply he means to make +things difficult for us. He could if he liked." + +"Larrinaga will come," Wyndham replied. "From all accounts, he's a +pretty good officer, but I don't expect he neglects his interests while +he looks after the State's. I'm counting on this." + +"I s'pose one mustn't be fastidious, but I don't want to get involved in +fresh intrigue. The job we've undertaken is awkward enough." + +"Very awkward," Wyndham agreed, with some dryness. "In a way, it looks +too big for us. To begin with, we have got to pay duties we dodged, and +satisfy the Government we cheated. Then, without exciting the latter's +curiosity, we're going to stop a rebellion and carry off its leader. +There's the worst puzzle. The fellow's cunning and powerful. Moreover, +he's my uncle." + +He stopped, for the engines clanked noisily as the screw turned astern; +then the anchor splashed and the launch swung in to the gangway. The +port doctor came on board and after him a man in tight-fitting American +clothes. His wide black belt was spun from the finest silk and Marston +noted his hat. Indians had woven the delicate material under running +water; presidents and dictators wore hats like that, and none of the few +produced were sent to Europe. It was obvious that Senor Larrinaga was +now a man of importance. + +"You sent for me," he said, with a bow. + +"The steamer goes on in the morning," Wyndham replied. "We hesitated +about landing and calling, for fear we might trespass on your time. By +sending a telegram we left you free to refuse. If you are not much +occupied, I hope you'll dine on board." + +Larrinaga said he was willing and after a time they went to the saloon. +For the most part, the passengers had landed and only three or four +occupied the tables. By-and-by the others went out and Wyndham opened a +fresh bottle of Italian wine. A steward turned on the electric light and +soft reflections fell on colored glass and polished wood. Beads of damp +sparkled on the white-and-gold ceiling, although the skylights were open +and a throbbing fan made a cool draught about the table. Footsteps +echoed along the deck and when the steamer rolled the water gurgled +about her side, but it was quiet in the saloon. By-and-by Larrinaga put +down his glass. + +"One likes to meet one's friends, but I do not know if this alone is why +you sent for me," he said. "If it is not, you see your servant!" + +Wyndham bowed. "We value your friendship and particularly your honesty +and tact. There is a matter we thought you might arrange for us." + +"If it is possible; but you must be moderate. One is watched and +criticized as one rises in rank, and it is difficult to allow one's +friends exclusive privileges. To grant too many robs the Government." + +"We want to make the Government richer," Wyndham replied. "In fact, we +propose to give you a sum that ought to have been paid, in smaller +amounts, before. You will, no doubt, be able to hand it to the proper +officer, without our being bothered by awkward formalities." + +Larrinaga looked at him with puzzled surprise. "In this country one pays +when one is forced, and the Government is generally paid last of all. +One seldom gives money for which one is not asked." + +"We do not mean to rob your Government and my partner is rich enough to +be honest," said Wyndham, smiling. "You have no customs officer at the +lagoon, and we found on studying our accounts that some duties had not +been paid." + +"Proper copies of your cargo manifests ought to have been sent the +officer at the port where your vessel's clearance papers were stamped." + +"I think the manifests were sent, but now and then we got cargo at the +last moment as we were going to sea. Besides, the officer was a friend +of ours----" + +Larrinaga filled his glass, and while he pondered Wyndham lighted a +cigarette. The matter needed careful handling. It was plain that +Larrinaga's surprise had gone and he was cautious. + +"Then you propose to give me the money you ought to have paid?" the +latter presently remarked. + +"Yes," said Wyndham. "We are traders and must get on with our business, +while the officer we knew has given up his post. If we write to his +successor, we must comply with numerous formalities, and a stranger +would insist on knowing why we did not pay at the proper time. Well, if +you take the money, I expect you can straighten things out." + +Larrinaga looked hard at him, and Wyndham smiled. He imagined the fellow +was not honester than other government officials he had met on the +Caribbean. Larrinaga knew it was in his power to keep back as much of +the sum as he liked for his private use and would, no doubt, do so. In +fact, the fellow would imagine he was offered a bribe. Since one does +not give bribes for nothing, Wyndham must hint that he had an object, +and the hint must be plausible. + +"Then you expect no particular privileges?" Larrinaga remarked. + +"Oh, no," said Wyndham. "All we want is to carry on our business without +the small officials bothering us. We are not smugglers, but we would not +like the vessel stopped if a manifest now and then is not properly made +up. One must go in and out when the tide serves, and sometimes we do not +know what goods we have on board until we check the tallies when we get +to sea. If we find we have cheated the customs, you can trust us to put +things straight. Only, we would sooner deal with somebody important; +yourself, for example." + +Larrinaga's eyes twinkled. "Very well. I think I can promise you will +not be bothered much." He paused, and resumed in a thoughtful voice: "I +expect you know your trading at the lagoon just now may lead to +trouble?" + +"All trade is troublesome, particularly when it is carried on in the +mangrove swamps," Marston interposed. "The lagoon is not much worse than +other spots. Anyhow, the profits are large and we must earn some money." + +"But Senor Wyndham stated that you are rich." + +"Rich people are sometimes greedy," Marston rejoined with a touch of +awkwardness. "I did not begin business with the object of losing my +capital." + +Wyndham thought he would leave Bob alone. Larrinaga would not suspect +him of plotting and his rather obvious embarrassment was an advantage. +Bob was the man one would expect to be embarrassed when engaged in +trying to bribe a government officer to sanction his smuggling. For all +that, Wyndham gave Larrinaga a keen glance. The latter leaned back +carelessly and rolled a cigarette. His movements were firm and quick. + +Don Ramon was clever and knew much about the bush. It was possible he +knew Wyndham had supplied the Bat with goods and he might mean to let +him do so for a time while he took his bribes, hoping to cheat both by +giving them a feeling of false security. Wyndham, however, did not think +Don Ramon knew the Bat was his relation; Peters knew, but he was not +the man to share a secret he had thought worth much. Although one must +not altogether take this for granted, Wyndham could not see another +plan. + +"Very well," said Larrinaga when he had made his cigarette. "I will take +your money and see you are not bothered." Then he looked hard at +Wyndham. "I will give you a hint: wait until your cargo comes down and +do not go far from the beach. The bush is dangerous for strangers just +now." + +"We heard something about this," Marston replied. "I don't like the +_Mestizos_, and if they're plotting trouble, hope you'll put them down." + +"My partner has a horror of the swamps," Marston remarked with a smile. +"If he was not keen to earn some money, he would not enter the lagoon. +He has not joined me long and wants his friends to think he has a talent +for business." + +Larrinaga shrugged and got up. "The English and Americans are hard to +understand. If I were rich, I would be satisfied to lounge about the +plaza and now and then gamble at the casino with my friends. I would not +gamble with the _Mestizos_ in the swamps. The chances are too much on +the side of the banker there. Well, I wish you good luck until we meet +again." + +The others went with him to the gangway and when the launch steamed off +Marston sat down and looked about. It had got dark but a half moon drew +a sparkling track across the calm sea. Anchor lights swung languidly by +the shore, and in the background the white town shone with a pale +reflection against the dusky hills. Music came off across the water with +the rumble of the surf, and the smooth swell splashed softly against +the vessel's side. Presently Marston turned and looked to the east. + +"One feels an English steamer's a bit of England. She takes civilization +and decency where she goes; but it will be different to-morrow when we +board _Columbine_. I wish our job was finished and we were going the +other way. Anyhow, it must be finished, and I don't know if I liked the +line you took. Don Ramon won't hand over all the money." + +"It's possible," Wyndham agreed. "Still I think you urged that we must +begin by paying the duties we had dodged." + +"I wanted them paid to the Government, not to a corrupt official who +thinks he's got another bribe. The duties belong to the country." + +"Oh, well. I don't know a channel by which the country would get its +dues. All are leaky; in fact, they are meant to leak. It's significant +that official salaries are small. However, I don't expect Don Ramon is +dishonester than the rest. Some of the money will go where it ought." + +"Perhaps it's not important," Marston said thoughtfully. "All the same, +you rather let the fellow think we wanted to smuggle." + +"Smuggling's profitable. It was prudent to hint we had an object for +haunting the lagoon. On the whole, I imagine a frank statement that we +were trying to be honest would not have satisfied Don Ramon; one must +make allowances for the other fellow's point of view. I hope he is +satisfied, but I doubt." + +"He is not a fool," Marston remarked. "I expect he reckons we mean to +supply the Bat with things he needs to fight the Government. If he's +not altogether corrupt, why does he let us go on?" + +"It's not very plain. Anyhow, I imagine he won't let us go on very long. +In fact, speed's important. We must finish the job before we are +stopped." + +"The rebellion must be stopped," Marston agreed. "In a way, I don't care +who rules the country; I expect nobody would rule it well. All the same, +I'm not going to see white traders murdered and the swamp-belt given up +to a cruel brute who would rule it on the African plan." + +"The Bat can't start his rebellion without supplies, which we don't mean +to give him," Wyndham said dryly. "Things would be easier if he were not +my uncle." + +Marston hesitated. "This bothers me most. D'you think Larrinaga knows?" + +"I think not. Peters knows, however, and when he finds out where we've +gone I expect we'll soon have him on our track. This means we must +reckon on three antagonists." + +"Three?" said Marston with a puzzled look. + +Wyndham nodded. "I expect we'll find Rupert Wyndham the worst. However, +I see one advantage; none of the three knows our plans and all theirs +clash. We are not up against a combine." + +"We haven't a plan," Marston objected. + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "Since that is so we must trust our luck." + +He went off and Marston smoked a cigarette and mused. He had wanted to +be open and honest, but since they could not use force, he admitted +reluctantly that they must intrigue. The job did not look as simple as +he had thought in England; it was getting obvious that Rupert Wyndham +would be their worst antagonist. The fellow was, so to speak, no longer +a white man; he was a savage with a lust for cruelty and power, but he +had a white man's intelligence. To imagine he could be persuaded to give +up his ambitious plans was ridiculous; he had no moral sense to which +one could appeal. All the same, it was unthinkable that they should let +him be captured by Larrinaga and shot. + +Marston could see no light and presently threw away his cigarette and +got up. The job was awkward, but he must not own he was beaten before he +had begun. He would go on and trust his luck. In the meantime, he had +promised to play cards with some passengers and he went to the +smoking-room. They played until the electric light went out, when +Marston found he had lost five pounds. It did not look as if his luck +was very good. + +In the morning, the steamer sailed and when she stopped again as dark +fell a boat was hoisted out. High land loomed, vague and blue, against +the sunset, drifting mist hid the beach, and not far off two masts and a +dark hull cut against the hazy background. As he went to the gangway +Marston looked back with a curious feeling of regret. The steamer stood +for much that he liked and knew, and he had enjoyed the society of her +officers. Their temperament was sane and practical. They did not seek +strange adventures; theirs was a healthful struggle against the obvious +dangers of the sea. + +In front, all was different, and Marston could not see where his path +led. Mystery, and perhaps horror, deepened the gloom through which he +must grope his way, and his face was grim as he went down the ladder. +He did not talk while the sailors rowed him to _Columbine_, and leaving +Wyndham to give the crew some orders he sat down on the gratings by the +wheel. + +The dew was falling and the deck was damp. Moisture dripped from the +masts and ropes, and it was very hot. The anchor light tossed against +the portentous gloom of the land. The yacht looked old and dirty, though +Marston knew her strength and speed; the half-naked crew made no noise +as they stole about. Their dark skin was scarcely distinguishable and +Marston thought they rather looked like ghosts than men. + +In the meantime, the steamer's boat was pulling back. Marston saw her +move across the dim reflections on the water, but the splash of oars got +faint and by and by she vanished in the dark. Then a whistle shrieked +and lights that twinkled in the distance began to move. The throb of +engines traveled far, but it presently died away and all was quiet. +Marston was launched on his adventure, and since he was practical, he +went below and studied the chart. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +MARSTON GETS A WARNING + + +It was dark and the mud village was strangely quiet. Thin mist drifted +about the house Don Felix had occupied, and Wyndhams' new agent leaned +forward slackly with his arm on the table. He was a young French creole, +but his face was pinched and careworn. + +Marston, sitting in a corner, studied the man. When he last saw Lucien +Moreau he was vigorous and marked by a careless confidence. Now his +glance was furtive and sometimes he fixed it on the window. There was no +glass and the shutters had been left open because the night was hot. +Marston remembered Don Felix's disconcerting habit of looking at the +window when it was dark. The miasma from the swamps had obviously +undermined Moreau's health; but Marston doubted if this accounted for +all. + +Moreau had been talking for two or three minutes when Wyndham stopped +him. + +"I understand you want to give up your post?" he said. + +"That is so," the other agreed. "For one thing, you do not need an agent +when you are closing down your business." He paused and gave Wyndham a +sullen look. "Besides, I have had enough." + +"Your pay is good." + +"Good pay is of no use if one dies before one can spend it," Moreau +rejoined. + +"Very well," said Wyndham. "If you have had enough, we must try to let +you go. However, since your engagement runs for some time, you must stay +a month." + +Moreau agreed unwillingly and Wyndham asked: "Have you sent for the +fellow who gave us our last load?" + +"He is coming to-night. You will stay until he goes?" + +"Of course," said Wyndham, smiling. "I don't want to put too much strain +on you. It looks as if you were afraid of your customers." + +"I am afraid. One is always afraid here," Moreau admitted. "It has been +worse since you did not send the goods you promised." + +"We will send no more," said Marston firmly and they talked about +something else until they heard steps outside and a man came in. + +He was a big, dark-skinned fellow and carried a thick blanket folded +across his shoulder. His feet and the most part of his thin legs were +bare, his chest and arms were powerful, and he looked truculent. He +glanced at Marston curiously and then turned to Wyndham. + +"Have you brought payment for my goods?" he asked in uncouth Castilian. + +"We have," said Wyndham. "Senor Moreau has a list of the cargo and we +will begin to unload in the morning. Tell him what we have brought, Don +Lucien." + +Moreau did so and the other frowned. "These things are of no use to me." + +"They are standard trade goods that count as money," Wyndham replied. + +"You know what we wanted," said the other and added, meaningly: + +"In this country, it is not prudent for a stranger to disown his debts." + +"We are not cheats," Marston rejoined. "The stuff is all good, but we +are willing to pay in money." + +Wyndham stopped him and turned to the mulatto. "If you are not +satisfied, send your master. We do not dispute with servants." + +Moreau looked alarmed, as if he thought the reply would provoke the +other, but Wyndham gave him a peremptory glance, and he said a few words +in Castilian. The mulatto smiled, a rather cruel, knowing smile. + +"One needs courage to dispute with the Bat. It is not often people in +his debt want to see him." + +"All the same, we want to see him." + +"I doubt if he will come. The custom is to send a present and ask leave +to visit the Bat; but I will take your message." + +"And what about the goods?" Wyndham asked. + +"I can do nothing until I get an order." + +"Then we'll send them up the creek and put them in the store. You can +let them remain or take them, as you like. We have paid our debt." + +"I doubt," said the other grimly and with an ironical salutation went +off. + +Marston felt relieved when he had gone, and soon afterwards he and +Wyndham walked through the silent village to the creek. There were no +lights, the quietness and gloom were disturbing and Marston noted that +the negroes had not left the boat. He thought they were glad when +Wyndham told them to shove off. + +"We have made our first move. I expect you don't see the next," he said. + +"Not yet," Wyndham agreed. "It depends on our antagonist. I think he'll +understand our challenge, but it's going to be an intricate game." + +Marston lighted his pipe and tried to think about something else. He +hated intrigue and liked to see his path. It was a relief when +_Columbine_'s lights began to twinkle in the mist, and he went to the +cabin when they got on board. The little room was very hot and no air +seemed to pass the gauze beneath the skylight, but the glow of the brass +lamp was comforting. He owned that he had begun to fear the dark. + +Next day they unloaded cargo and when they stopped in the evening +Marston took his gun and went off in the dinghy. The tide was near its +lowest ebb, the uncovered mud banks gave off a sickly smell, and for a +time Marston pulled languidly down the channel. Then he saw a strip of +firmer bank, where a little path came out. A creek flowed through the +wet forest not far off, and he thought he might find his way across; the +ducks fed at twilight in the pools in the swamps. Pulling up the dinghy, +he looked at his watch. The tide had not turned, there was a moon, and +it would not be very dark. One got cramped on board the yacht and he +wanted exercise. + +The path was faint and the ground wet, but it bore his foot. Here and +there a huge cottonwood towered above the jungle, which was choked by +fallen branches and fresh growth that sprang from the tangled ruin of +the old. Knotted creepers strangled slender trees and pulled each other +down to the corruption that covered the boggy soil. Green things rotted +as they grew; parasitic plants drained the sap from drooping boughs. One +sensed the pitiless savageness of the struggle for life, in which the +beaten were devoured by the survivors before they were dead. + +Dark water that smelt horribly oozed through the jungle, the mosquitoes +had come out, and Marston pulled down the veil fastened to his double +felt hat. The forest daunted him, there was something about it that one +felt in a nightmare, but he was tired of loafing, and pushed on. If he +could reach the creek, he might get a shot. By and by, however, the path +bent back towards the lagoon, and he stopped at the edge of a channel +that crossed his path. It was not wide, but looked deep and the banks +were very soft. The creek he meant to reach was farther on. + +Marston considered. The channel marked the edge of the forest, which it +followed for some distance and then, turning, ran obliquely to the +lagoon. There was a muddy flat on the other side where he thought ducks +might feed, and he did not want to turn back. All the same, he did not +like the bridge that spanned the channel. Somebody had thrown a small +trunk across and stayed it, as a suspension-bridge is stayed, by +creepers partly pulled down from neighboring trees. The log looked +rotten and the rounded top was wet with slime. The water obviously +covered it when the tide was full. Marston, however, was sure footed and +steadying himself by the bent creepers, went cautiously across. + +When he reached the flat the sand and mud were soft and his step got +labored, but the light was going, he heard ducks, and thought he might +get near them in the gloom. They flew off, and he followed some curlews +that led him on for a time and then vanished with a mournful cry. +Marston stopped and looked about. He had gone far enough, the tide had +turned, and it was getting dark. Dark came quickly at the lagoon. + +Across the little channel, mangroves rose from sloppy mud. Their roots +were five or six feet high, and mudfish splashed in the holes beneath. +Crabs crawled about the roots, for he heard their claws scratch on the +smooth bark. He knew the noise; one heard it on board the schooner when +the tide was low, and Marston hated the hideous mangrove-crabs that +swarmed about the lagoon. They were savage and not afraid. If one sat on +the sand, they crawled over one's body and their bite was sharp. A +curlew's wild cry pierced the gloom and then all was quiet. + +Marston frowned. Now the light was going, the forest looked sinister. +Perhaps he was imaginative, but his half-conscious shrinking had some +grounds. In the tropics the woods were hostile and sheltered man's +enemies, of which the insect tribes were perhaps the worst. They +attacked in hosts, with poisoned jaws. Then a pale glimmer caught +Marston's wandering glance. The tide was creeping across the mud. + +He went back and stopped at the bridge. Dark had fallen, but the moon +was above the jungle and its light touched the channel. The log ran +across like a thin black bar, a few feet above the slime. It looked +frailer than when he had come. He braced himself, and balancing +carefully, went a yard or two along the trunk. Then he heard a crack and +seized the creeper as the log dropped under his feet. He held fast, +although the strain on his arm was sharp. There was a splash, the +creeper broke, and swinging back with one end, he dropped in the mud. It +rose to his knee and for a minute or two he splashed and struggled +furiously. Somehow he got out and floundered back to the bank he had +left. He was breathless and rather surprised to find he had not dropped +the gun, but the arm by which he had hung was horribly sore. + +Then it dawned on him that he was on the wrong side of the channel and +could not get across. When he fell into the mud he was not far from the +bank, but he had gone deep and it was unthinkable that he should venture +farther out. The half-liquid mire would suck him down. Still the tide +was rising and he could not stop on the flat. After a few moments, +another thing struck him; when he crossed, the bridge, although narrow +and slippery, was firm, but now it had given way as soon as it bore his +weight. The log had slipped down, or broken, suddenly. He wondered +whether it had been meant to break. A few strokes with the cutlass the +half-breeds carried would be enough, and he could not have struggled out +had he dropped where the mud was deep. + +Marston clenched his fist and raged with helpless fury. He was persuaded +somebody, with devilish cunning, had set the trap for him. When the tide +rose the dinghy would drift up the lagoon and in the morning the yacht's +crew would find her stuck among the mangrove roots. It would look as if +he had landed on a mud bank and had stopped too long. Then, with an +effort, Marston pulled himself together. He must search for a place +where the bottom was not so soft. + +He ran across the flat, heading for the lagoon and hoping he might find +a belt of firm sand that would enable him to wade across, but there was +none, and by and by he came to the main channel. It was wider and he saw +clumps of weed and flakes of foam drift past. The tide was rising and +would presently cover the flat. He went back as near as he could get to +the jungle, and sitting down with the gun across his knees, took off his +shoes. He had sometimes gone wild-fowling on the English coast and knew +one can pull one's naked foot out of mud where one's boot would stick. +The gun might be an embarrassment, but he meant to keep it to the last, +because the fellow who had cut the bridge might be lurking about. + +Treading very cautiously, Marston tried the bank again, but began to +sink and had some trouble to regain the flat. It was obvious that he +could not cross, and he doubted if he would be much better off if he +reached the mangroves some distance from the path. The tide flowed back +among them, their trunks were slender, and they were haunted by +poisonous insects and the horrible crabs. If the crabs attacked him when +the tide rose and he was forced to cling to the trees, he could not beat +them off. All the same, he could not swim to the schooner. + +For a time he wandered up and down the flat. Although he saw no way of +escape, he could not keep still. In the end, he must swim, but he meant +to wait until the tide drove him off the flat. There was not much use in +swimming when one could not find a spot to land. The rising water +presently forced him back to the small channel, where he stopped. The +moon had got bright and although, for the most part, the mangroves on +the other side rose like a dark wall, the silver beams touched their +branches here and there. Marston searched them keenly, because he had a +strange feeling that somebody was about. Perhaps the fellow who had cut +the bridge had stopped to watch him drown. + +He thought he heard a soft rustle, leaves moved, and throwing the gun to +his shoulder, he pulled the trigger. The barrel jerked, the sharp report +rolled across the woods, and leaves and twigs came down; but that was +all, and Marston, swinging the gun, pulled the other trigger. Then as +the echoes died away he thought he heard a distant shout and a regular +throbbing noise. He paused as he pushed in fresh cartridges, and +listened hard. The noise was like the splash of oars and got louder. It +was the splash of oars, and a shout came across the water again. Marston +fired another shot and then waited, trembling with the reaction. Wyndham +was coming for him on board the gig and the crew were pulling hard. They +would reach him before the tide covered the flat. + +When the sand was all but covered, the boat grounded close by and +Marston got on board. Wyndham gave him a nod and Marston noted that he +was hot and breathless. A heavy oar he had thrown down lay in the +sculling notch. + +"The boys went out to make fast a warp and saw the dinghy drifting up," +Wyndham remarked. "We reckoned we had better start." + +"Thanks!" said Marston, who imagined his comrade did not want to talk +just then. "Have you got a cigarette?" + +They shoved off and when they reached _Columbine_ went to the cabin. +Marston mixed a cocktail. + +"There's enough for two," he said. "I expect you sculled pretty hard." + +"I did," Wyndham admitted. "The boys shoved her along handsomely; looks +as if they liked you, but the tide was rising fast. Well? What were you +shooting at?" + +"I imagined it was at the man who sent the dinghy adrift." + +"Ah," said Wyndham, "I wondered--didn't think you'd carelessly stop too +long. In fact, I was pretty anxious until I heard the gun. But do you +reckon somebody did push off the dinghy?" + +Marston stated his grounds for believing this, and Wyndham, after +pondering for a few moments, looked hard at him. + +"Well, I suppose you see what it implies?" + +"I'm in the way. Somebody meant to get rid of me." + +"Yes; but that's not all," said Wyndham, with a dry smile. "It looks as +if I'm not thought dangerous; the man we're up against is not persuaded +my reform's sincere. On the whole, this may be an advantage. To puzzle +your antagonist is good strategy." + +He drained his glass and lighted his pipe. "In the meantime, we'll let +it go. What about the new running gear? Have we enough manilla rope for +the peak-halyards?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +WYNDHAM TRIES PERSUASION + + +The moon had not risen and thick mist drifted past the schooner before +the hot land-breeze. Marston was talking to Wyndham in the cabin, but +stopped when something bumped against the vessel's side. + +"What's that?" he asked sharply. + +"A canoe, I think," said Wyndham, and both listened. + +Marston wanted to run up on deck, but did not. Since his adventure on +the flat had rather shaken his nerve, he meant to use some control. For +a few moments they heard nothing and then the sliding hatch rattled, as +if somebody pulled it back. Marston thought it significant that none of +the crew had challenged the stranger. The hatch opened and the old +mulatto came down. He did not squat on the deck, as he had done before, +but sat, like a white man, on the side locker. + +"Give me a drink; you know my taste," he said, and Marston noticed that +he spoke good English. + +Wyndham gave him some old brandy and he drank with leisurely enjoyment. +Although he wore ragged and dirty cotton and his legs were bare, it was +obvious that Rupert Wyndham had now done with pretense. + +"I'm your guest," he said to Wyndham. "Perhaps it's not good manners, +but I'd sooner Mr. Marston left us alone." + +"Bob's my partner; I think we'll let him stay," Wyndham replied. "All +that interests me interests him." + +Rupert shrugged. "It looks as if you had given him your confidence." + +"He knows who you are." + +"Oh, well!" said Rupert. "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve the +form of the invitation you gave my servant." + +"Something like _le Majeste_?" Wyndham suggested. + +"Something like that," said Rupert with a touch of dryness. "After all, +I'm king _de facto_ in the bush." + +"Then I think you ought to be content," Wyndham rejoined. "The republic +is forced to challenge a king _de jure_." + +Rupert looked at him with half-closed, bloodshot eyes, and Marston +thought his face was now like a negro's. After all, his civilized talk +and manners were a mask; the fellow was a negro underneath. + +"We'll talk about this again," he said in a careless voice. "You seem to +have got scrupulous since you went home. Is it a prudish girl's +influence or your partner's?" + +"My wife's, for the most part. If you take it for granted that I agree, +it will clear the ground." + +"Ah,"--said Rupert, frowning, "it looks as if I were foolish when I +helped you to marry. Perhaps I forgot--it's long since I studied things +from the white man's point of view and women don't count in the bush. +They are toys and don't make rules for their lovers." + +"Unless human nature's different in the jungle, I expect some do so," +Marston remarked. + +"Their end is generally sudden," said Rupert, with grim humor. Then he +turned to Wyndham. "I promised to make you rich. Have I cheated you?" + +"No. In a sense, you have kept your promise; but, for all that, I was +cheated. My reward vanished when I got it." + +Rupert gave him a mocking smile. "Sometimes it happens so, but this is +your affair and we will not philosophize. You made a bargain and got the +goods, for which you must pay." + +"I'm willing to pay. We have brought a load of stuff that has a standard +value in the bush. If this won't satisfy you, I've paid a sum to your +account at my bank. You can draw it when you like." + +"Neither plan will do. I don't want trade rubbish and money is not much +use. I need the goods I expected you to bring. If you refuse to supply +me, you miss a chance you will not get again." + +"I'm not sure that to seize the chance would be a very sound +speculation," Wyndham rejoined in a thoughtful voice. + +Marston looked hard at him. Harry's manner almost hinted that he was +hesitating, but this was unthinkable. Rupert, however, smiled. + +"You are a tactful fellow! You want me to state things plainly in order +to persuade you? Well, I will be frank, and if I can banish your +scruples, so much the better. We are relations and ought not to be +enemies----" + +Rupert paused for a moment or two and then went on: "I sent you rare +goods--that sell for high prices in England, but so far I have not sent +you the best. There are plants in the swamps for which doctors and +chemists would give very much. A few of my people know where they can be +found, but I am perhaps the only man who knows how the essences can be +distilled. After all, I am not a magician for nothing." + +"There is not much modern chemists do not know," Marston interposed. + +"Your manufacturing chemists have not got the plants," said Rupert +dryly. "The finished product is scarce and valuable; I have the +knowledge that can bring the raw material to the distilling retorts. +Well, if I use this knowledge, I make my charge, and I have offered my +nephew a generous share." + +"On some conditions, to which I can't agree," Wyndham rejoined. "Your +secret is worth money, but you can use it in one of two ways. You mean +to smuggle the stuff into England in small quantities at a monopoly +price; I think the other line would pay you better. Ship all you can, +develop the trade openly, and although the price will drop and you may +have rivals, the sums paid will be large and you will be first on the +ground." + +Rupert gave him an ironical smile. "You are rather obvious, Harry. You +want me to come out of my seclusion and engage in conventional trade. I +see drawbacks. In six months, English, American, and German buyers would +overrun the country, touting for business. The country's mine and my +people will not let white men get control. We are satisfied with the +old rules and don't want tram-roads, clearings, and factories. In fact, +we don't mean to be exploited for the advantage of Larrinaga's greedy +politicians, who'd sell the foreigners trading privileges for bribes." + +He stopped and drained his glass, and there was silence for a minute or +two. Wyndham understood his uncle and rather sympathized. Independence +and liberty to follow one's bent were worth much; one would not change +them carelessly for the commercialism that gave a man no choice but to +work by rule or starve. Marston, however, was puzzled and presently +remarked: + +"Clearings would let in some light, which the country needs." + +"The light your industrial civilization gives is dim. I and the others +would sooner have the dark. You hate the shadowy world because you do +not know it; I have lived in it long." + +"How have you lived?" Marston asked. "You are a white man and it's plain +you have unusual gifts. Yet you're satisfied to skulk about the swamps +in dirt and rags, cheating superstitious brutes by conjuring tricks! The +thing's unthinkable." + +Rupert looked at him with the smile Marston hated. It was malevolent and +mocked his philosophy. + +"Some of the tricks are clever; they have puzzled you. We will not argue +whether all are tricks or not. Anyhow, the clever impostor is a common +type. Men who claim magic power direct your company-floating and +manipulate your politics; but perhaps it's among primitive people the +fakir has most influence. In the bush, I'm high-priest, and something of +a prophet." + +"You claim to be king," said Wyndham, very dryly. "Prophecy's not +difficult when you rather trust to knowledge your disciples haven't got +than inspiration. No doubt, you make lucky shots, but royalty's another +job. An unacknowledged king must fight for his crown. I want you to +think if you hadn't better give it up." + +Marston, looking from one to the other, felt the crisis had come. Both +were calm, but he thought Harry was highly strung. Their glances were +strangely keen; they looked like fencers about to engage. Marston +reflected that Rupert did not know Harry's new plans; nor did he know +Peters meant to meddle. + +"Well," said Rupert, "suppose I agree? What have you to offer?" + +"Much, I think. Your return to civilized life and the place where you +properly belong. However, we'll be practical. You can resume the +partnership in Wyndhams' that is really yours. I'll give you any just +share to which Bob will consent, and we'll use your knowledge as far as +we can do so lawfully. Our business could be extended and the house +ought to prosper in our joint control." + +Rupert laughed. "You offer money! In England, it would buy no power I +have not got, and the things I like I have. We'll let this go. You are +my nephew and perhaps you feel you must be generous; but don't you think +you're rash? Have you forgotten the years I've lived in the dark? Habits +stick. It would be embarrassing if your relation used the manners of a +savage, and I have idiosyncrasies that would give fastidious people a +nasty jolt. Then, since you have married, what about your wife? Women +are rather strict about conventional niceties." + +"My wife agrees," Wyndham replied, incautiously. + +"To your plans for my reform? Then, you have some plans. You are, so to +speak, missionaries. Well, I imagine Marston is fitter for the job. His +confidence can't be shaken, and he doesn't bother about the other +fellow's point of view. The successful missionary is a fanatic." + +"Give the thing up," said Marston, with some sternness. "You're white, +you're English! Come out of the mud!" + +Rupert shrugged and turned to Wyndham. "Your partner's staunch, but does +not use much tact. Can you see me ordering smart young clerks, talking +at an old men's club, and amusing your wife's friends in a conventional +drawing-room? If so, your imagination's vivid. I can't see myself." He +laughed, a harsh laugh. "In the bush I rule with power that nobody +challenges." + +Wyndham made a sign of resignation, and Marston owned defeat. After all, +he had not expected to persuade the Bat. Then the latter resumed: + +"You refuse to supply the goods I need?" + +"Yes." + +"Then why do you stay and keep your agent at the village?" + +"Moreau will not stay long," said Wyndham, and Marston, seeing where +Rupert's question led, wondered how Harry would account for their +haunting the lagoon. + +"We came to trade," Wyndham went on. "Although I now see it won't pay +to keep an agent, we must clear off our stock of goods." + +"You can't do so without my leave." + +"I doubt this," said Wyndham. "Anyhow, we're going to try. It's obvious +you have some power, but a firm rule generally provokes opposition and +we may do some business with the dissatisfied." + +Rupert looked hard at him. "You may find the experiment dangerous. On +the whole, my servants are staunch and know the advantage of keeping out +foreigners. Well, this is your affair, and since it's plain we can't +agree, I won't stay." + +He got up and while Marston studied him with a touch of horror he seemed +to change, as if he shook off the superficial civilization he had worn. +His lips got thick and stuck out; they looked strangely red and sensual. +His eyes got dull and the colored veins were plainer, and he rubbed one +bare foot with the other's flexible toes. Marston felt he had reverted +to the old mulatto. + +"You go dash me them bottle?" he said with a grin. + +They let him pick up the bottle of brandy, he climbed the ladder, and +the hatch slid back. There was no noise on deck and they did not hear a +paddle splash, but they knew he had gone. Marston drained his glass and +looked at Wyndham, whose face was rather white. He saw Harry had got a +jar, and said nothing. + +After a few moments Wyndham broke out: "At the last, he looked a +half-breed. A trick of pushing out his lips and stretching his nostrils, +perhaps; but one feels he is a half-breed. I think he will never really +be a white man again. He gave no hint of regret for all that he has +lost; it was rather horrible to see he was content." + +"He is content, he has done with civilization," said Marston quietly. +"We must remember this." + +Wyndham nodded. "From now, we have not to deal with Rupert Wyndham, but +with the Bat. To some extent, it makes the job easier. All the same, we +can't give him up to Larrinaga. It's unlucky we could not have kept him +on board." + +"That was impossible. Your asking him to come implied that he was safe. +Besides, we were forced to try persuasion first. Well, we have tried. +What's the next plan?" + +"I have none. We must wait." + +"Do you think he was satisfied with the grounds we gave for stopping? I +mean, do you imagine he believes we merely want to trade?" + +"I don't know," said Wyndham moodily. "Perhaps I made a lucky shot when +I talked about our trading with the opposition. I imagine it touched +him; looks as if there was an opposition. Then I don't suppose he knows +Peters is on our track and his. Well, in the meantime we must use +patience and trust our luck." + +He went up on deck and Marston went to bed. For a time he heard +Wyndham's restless tread on the planks above him, and then he went to +sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +WYNDHAM FINDS A CLEW + + +A few days after Rupert's visit to the schooner, a quantity of cargo +arrived. The goods were not valuable, but the owners were satisfied with +the payment Wyndham told his agent to offer and Marston was surprised +they had got a load at all. + +"It's strange," said Wyndham thoughtfully when they lounged under the +awning while the negroes unloaded the canoes. "Of course, the Bat may +have allowed the stuff to come down, for reasons that are not very +plain. On the other hand, it's possible some of the half-breeds don't +yet own his rule. Since this might be important, I'd rather like to +know, but don't see much chance of our finding out." + +Marston noted that Harry called Rupert the Bat, but he agreed. Rupert +was no longer a white man. All the same he was Harry's relation. + +"I imagine our chance of finding out anything useful here is very +small," he rejoined. + +"Then suppose we take the cargo across for transshipment and see if we +can pick up a clew at the other end?" Wyndham suggested. "If we knew +something about Larrinaga's plans, it might help." + +Although the schooner was not half-loaded, Marston agreed. Any excuse +was good that took him away from the lagoon, and at noon next day +_Columbine_ went to sea. The voyage to the white town was short and on +the evening of their arrival Marston lounged contentedly on the arcade +in front of his hotel. A full moon shone above the flat roofs, the hotel +was lighted, and the glow from the windows touched the pavement beyond +the pillars. Citizens, enjoying the cool of the evening, crowded the +streets, and sometimes stopped at the small tables to drink a glass of +wine. On the opposite side of the street, the straight-fronted houses +threw a dark shadow. The band of the _cazadores_ regiment played on the +plaza. + +Wyndham was talking to a gentleman from whom his agent bought goods. Don +Luis came to town to gamble at the casino, and Marston had met him +before. + +"You must come and see my _finca_," he said. "There are ducks on the +marsh and you English are fond of sport." + +Marston said he would be pleased to go if they stopped long enough; and +then letting Wyndham carry on the talk, watched the passers-by. After a +few minutes, a big muscular negro entered the belt of light, and Marston +glanced at him with some surprise. + +"There's Pepe!" he exclaimed. + +He doubted if the negro heard him through the clink of glasses and hum +of talk, but it looked as if he saw his quick movement, for he turned +his head and went behind a group at a table. + +"Somebody like him," said Wyndham carelessly, and when Marston looked +back across the street the negro had vanished. + +People moved about and Marston imagined he had retired into the gloom, +where one could not distinguish him from the others. Pepe was the pilot +at the lagoon, a good-humored fellow whom they had generally given a +small present besides his pay. As a rule, he did not wear much clothes +on board, but he was now rather neatly dressed in white cotton and his +hat was good. On the Caribbean coast, men spend large sums on their +hats. It looked as if Pepe was getting rich, but Marston could not +imagine why he did not want to be seen. He was going to talk about this +when he caught Wyndham's eye and he lighted a cigarette. + +"My partner is a good shot," Wyndham said to their companion. "We will +be occupied for two or three days, but perhaps after that----" + +Don Luis fixed a day for their visit, and when he went off Marston +turned to Wyndham. + +"It was Pepe," he declared. + +"Yes; I saw him. I think he was with the officer of the port-guard." + +"But what is he doing here? And why did he step back when I turned to +you?" + +"I don't know," said Wyndham. "The thing's interesting." + +Marston agreed, but he could suggest no explanation and they talked +about Don Luis. In the morning, when the narrow streets got hot, they +went to the _marina_ where the sea breeze blew among the pepper-trees +and palms. After lounging for a time on a shady bench, Wyndham indicated +some carpenters at work behind the mole. + +"It's too early to meet our agent. Let's see what those fellows are +doing," he proposed. + +They crossed a belt of shingle and found the carpenters mending a big +open boat. Two or three other boats were drawn up close by and planks +lay about. When Marston stopped, a man who had been sitting in the +shade got up and turned to him with a careless smile. It was Pepe, the +negro pilot. + +"Hallo!" said Marston. "Have you given up your job?" + +"Not for long. One likes a change," the other replied. + +In the meantime, Wyndham examined the boats. He knew the type, which was +used for taking off cargo to vessels that did not come into the harbor. +For their length, they carried a big load and were generally propelled +by four men who pulled the heavy oars double-banked. Their flat bottom +adapted them for use in shallow water. + +"Are you going to buy the _candrays_?" Wyndham asked. + +Pepe grinned. "One does not get rich by fishing and piloting. It is cool +here in the shade and I have not much to do." + +"Oh, well," said Wyndham, "No doubt you have seen the schooner. I expect +we'll sail in about a week and we can give you a passage, if you are +going back." + +Pepe said he did not mean to return yet, and Marston and Wyndham went +away. + +"I wonder what he is doing about the boats, although I don't know if it +matters," Marston remarked. + +"He was rather obviously loafing." + +"I'd have expected to find him loafing about a second-class wine shop." + +"With a hat like his and new yellow boots?" said Wyndham dryly. + +"They may have cost him all he's got. These fellows are vain. All the +same, there's something strange about his being here and trying to pass +without our seeing him last night. He's frank enough this morning." + +"He may have been making the best of it because he could not steal off +before we came up." + +"It's possible, although I don't see why he should want to dodge us," +Marston replied, and added thoughtfully: "Since he's allowed to pilot +vessels at the lagoon, I expect he's the Bat's man." + +"Looks like that," said Wyndham. "I imagine he has been in Africa. +Although his Castilian is not remarkably bad, the English he uses on +board has the true West-coast twang. You might hear the words at +Kingston, but the accent's good _Sar Leone_. However, if he's a friend +of the Bat's, why was he going about with one of the President's +port-guard?" + +"Perhaps he met him at a wine-shop; they're both sailors," Marston +suggested. "I thought you rather went out of your way to tell him we +would sail in a week." + +"An example of instinctive caution. It's possible we may sail before. In +the meantime, we won't bother about the thing." + +They went to the agent's office, and after transshipping their cargo set +out one morning for Don Luis' _finca_. The road was bad, their horses +were poor, and when they reached the big whitewashed, mud house their +host persuaded them to stop the night. Dinner was served at four o'clock +and soon afterwards Don Luis gave them fresh horses and they started for +the marsh. It got dark while they floundered through the mud and reeds, +but they shot some ducks as the light was going and stayed until the +mosquitoes drove them off. + +Going back, they took a road that crossed a steep hillside. Trees in +dark masses rolled down the slope and thin hot mist drifted about the +trunks. The moon, however, was full, and where there was an opening in +the wet leaves bright beams pierced the gloom and made pools of silver +light on the ground. A cloud of mosquitoes followed them and Marston's +horse was fresh. He was not used to the big stirrups and wide Spanish +saddle, and now and then found it hard to hold the animal. By and by, a +regular throbbing noise came up the hill and he turned to Don Luis. + +"It sounds like soldiers marching," he said. + +Don Luis pulled up. "It is soldiers. A battalion of _cazadores_ occupies +the old mission. If we could go another way, it would be better, but +there is no road up the hill." + +The road was bad and narrow. There would not be much room for the +soldiers to pass, and Marston imagined this accounted for Don Luis' +wanting to turn off. + +"They keep the troops a long way from the town," he said. + +"The old mission makes a good barracks," Don Luis replied. "Besides, +this is the President's own battalion. They are very loyal while their +pay is regular, and made disturbances in the town, wrecking the wine +shops where there was revolutionary talk." + +They rode on and when the tramp of feet got louder, Marston asked: "Do +the _cazadores_ often drill in the dark?" + +"Once they scarcely drilled at all," said Don Luis, laughing. "However, +since Ramon Larrinaga became the President's friend they drill them +much, with German officers in command. Recently the drilling has got +harder and one wonders why this is and whether it means something. All +the same, I am a supporter of the President's and if he is satisfied--" + +The measured tramp was now very close, and the creak of leather and +rattle of straps and slings came out of the gloom. Marston thought he +could hear the labored breath of men toiling up hill. Then a hoarse +challenge rang out and his horse plunged across the road. + +"Hold him!" said Wyndham sharply, and two or three men with glittering +bayonets came into the moonlight that shone between the trees. + +"A picket, or advance guard!" Wyndham resumed. "Get down, Bob. You +mustn't let the brute go!" + +Marston's horse reared and tried to turn from the shining steel, but he +got his foot out of the awkward stirrup and swung himself from the +saddle. The others dismounted and the soldiers led them off the road and +then stood on guard. + +"I do not know if we are arrested," Don Luis remarked with a shrug. "One +must use patience; but I am not without some influence and expect +apologies when the officers arrive." + +When he had quieted his horse Marston lighted a cigarette and leaned +against a tree. For a few yards the moonlight shone upon the road and +when the first fours of the leading platoon crossed the illuminated belt +he was surprised. The _cazadores_ were short, dark-skinned men. Their +sloped rifles wavered at different angles, and their march was +slouching, but they carried complete field equipment; pouches, +mess-tins, tools and bandoliers. It was the first time he had seen the +republican soldiers in regular marching order. + +"Your government has been extravagant," he said to Don Luis. + +Don Luis spread out his hands. "It is these Germans! Somebody will have +to pay and the country is poor. Perhaps it is well to pay the soldiers, +but one need not spend money on equipment until there is risk of war." + +"Then there is no risk of war just now?" Wyndham interposed. + +"I know of none. I cannot see why we should quarrel with our neighbors +and although the negroes are turbulent in the back country, one leaves +them alone. The Germans have led us into extravagance, senor. All must +be efficient and worked on a plan! They do not understand us. We are not +machines like them!" + +He stopped, for one of the guards roughly ordered the party farther back +into the wood. From their new position they could not see much. Sloped +rifles tossed and wavered across the opening in the trees; steel bands +and swivels shone in the moon, and one distinguished shadowy figures +going by. After a time the measured tramp got fainter and rolled up the +hill, and the beat of horses' feet came out of the gloom. The soldier +who had driven the party back went to the road and his voice reached the +others. Then he ordered them to advance and they saw two or three +mounted officers in the moonlight. One sat stiff and motionless and +asked a few sharp questions in uncouth Castilian, after which he turned +to a companion. + +"They say they are sportsmen and the fellow in the cloak claims to be +well known. The others look like foreigners. I will leave you to talk to +them, Don Maccario." + +"Ah," said Don Luis, "now the thing resolves itself!" + +The other officer pushed his horse forward, and then laughed. "It is +you, my friend! Well, perhaps we ought to make our apologies, but we are +being trained on the German model and you are not as discreet as usual." + +"Is one forbidden to look at the soldiers for whom, one must pay?" Don +Luis asked. + +"One is not encouraged, when they marched at night," the other rejoined +dryly. + +"I and my friends come back from shooting and there is no other road. +What must we do? It is well known that I am a staunch supporter of the +President's and a friend of Don Ramon's. However, you can see the ducks +and our guns." + +"It is not necessary. Do you know Don Ramon is at the mission? I think +he means to breakfast with you to-morrow. But who are your friends?" + +Don Luis presented Wyndham and Marston, and after greeting them politely +the officer let the party go. They rode on down the hill and Don Luis +grumbled. + +"I am staunchly for the Government; the thing was ridiculous. I do not +see why they hide our soldiers. It is some German plan. We will talk +about it to Don Ramon if he comes in the morning." + +When they reached the _finca_ and Wyndham and Marston were alone for a +few minutes the former said, "Perhaps it's lucky we came here, because I +think I have found a clew. I expect you noted they tried to keep the +drilling and equipping of the President's battalion a secret." + +"It looks like that," said Marston. "Still I don't see what it implies." + +"For one thing, it implies they want a small, highly-efficient, striking +force. The force is obviously to be used. These fellows don't study +efficiency for its own sake." + +"But why don't they want people to know?" + +"I think that's rather plain. There's an advantage in striking before +your antagonist is ready, and the citizens of this country have some +talent for political intrigue; plot and counter plot are always going +on. I don't imagine the President altogether trusts his friends." + +"Ah," said Marston, "I begin to see----" + +He stopped, and when Don Luis came up talked about the shooting. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +DON LUIS' BREAKFAST PARTY + + +One got up early at the Finca Buenavista, and when they had been given +some black coffee and a small hard roll, Wyndham and Marston went to a +bench in the patio. The house was built in a hollow square and its +occupants used the patio when the rooms were hot. One wall was pierced +by arches opening to the kitchen and stable; outside stairs, balconies, +and windows with green shutters, broke the straight front of the others. +In places, purple masses of Bougainvillea glowed against the ochre wash, +and beyond the flat roof a steep hill, darkly green with foliage, rolled +up against a background of distant mountains. In the middle of the +square a pepper tree stretched its thin branches across a marble +fountain, in which shining water splashed. The _finca_ dated back to +days when the country prospered under Spanish rule. + +Wyndham lighted his pipe and looked thoughtful when he began to smoke. + +"If Larrinaga is curious about us, he will come to breakfast," he said. +"Since I think we can take this for granted, we had better choose our +line." + +"Why do you think he is curious?" Marston asked. + +"To begin with, I doubt if he's persuaded our object for stopping at the +lagoon is to carry on an ordinary, lawful trade. We have some grounds +for imagining Peters has not told him the Bat is my relation; but I +expect he knows we could not get much cargo without the Bat's consent. +Then it's possible he has heard about our examining the boats, and now +we are found watching the secret maneuvers of his troops. It's pretty +obvious whom they are to be used against." + +Marston nodded. "I've been pondering this. They could put three or four +platoons of _cazadores_ on board the old gunboat and land them where +they are wanted in the cargo lighters. In fact, if it was fine weather, +the Government's tug could tow them all the way. That's why Larrinaga +brought the pilot over. The question is: what ought we to do about it? +Do you mean to warn the Bat?" + +"Not yet," said Wyndham, thoughtfully. "If he got warning soon enough, +he would probably be able to make a good fight. Although I don't imagine +he could win, a number of the soldiers would be killed. We don't want +this." + +Marston agreed. Their business was not to take a side. Indeed, it was +unthinkable that they should help either party. All the same, he was +puzzled, because since they could not allow the Bat to be captured and +shot, something must be done. After a moment or two, Wyndham resumed: + +"I have a half-formed plan. We must find out where the soldiers will +land and when they'll start. Then we must get across before them and +take the Bat the news while they are marching through the bush. It will +not matter if his spies bring him word a few hours sooner. This will +bear out our tale; but our arrival must be carefully timed." + +"Yes," said Marston and pondered. + +Harry's plan was vague, but on the whole it was good. The Bat must be +taken by surprise, without time being given him to organize a defense. +Then he might be forced to surrender, not to the soldiers but to his +relation, and they must try to smuggle him on board the yacht. The +scheme, however, needed to be carefully worked out. + +"You are reckoning on his not being ready to fight," he said. + +Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "That is so. You ought to see why he +is not ready, because, to some extent, you are accountable. Negroes and +half-breeds, armed with cutlasses and a few old guns, can't stand up +against well-drilled troops. The Bat has been embarrassed by not getting +the material he expected us to bring." + +"Of course," said Marston awkwardly. "Well, how are we to find out when +the troops will sail?" + +"I don't know. So far, we have been lucky; we must trust our luck +again." + +"Suppose all goes as you expect, and the Bat sees a struggle would be +useless and gives himself up to us? What are we going to do with him?" + +"That's perhaps the worst puzzle," said Wyndham dryly. "We must try to +solve it when it comes. It's possible, however, the Bat may solve it for +us." + +Marston smoked for a time, glancing sympathetically at Wyndham, who +knitted his brows. Then Bob said, "To begin with, we have got to bluff +Larrinaga and he is not a fool. How do you mean to satisfy him?" + +"On the whole, I think I'll leave the job to you," Wyndham replied and +his eyes twinkled when he saw Marston's surprise. "Don Ramon's a good +judge of character and would think a little embarrassment on your part +rather natural. You're not the stuff romantic conspirators are made of, +and our being partners will imply much. However, there's a drawback; he +mustn't think I have cheated and am using you." + +"Then, I'm to look simple and trustful, but not altogether a fool. You +give me a hard part. I doubt if I can play it," Marston grumbled. + +"You mustn't try to play a part," said Wyndham firmly. "Be frank where +you can, but don't talk too much. There's a thing may help us; Don Ramon +will be careful not to hint our seeing the boats and the soldiers in +field equipment is important." + +"Oh, well," said Marston gloomily, "I'll be glad when breakfast's over." + +About eleven o'clock two servants began to spread a table under the +pepper tree, where the shadow of a projecting balcony stretched across +the broken flags. Soon afterwards, Don Luis, looking hot and slightly +disturbed, entered the patio with Larrinaga and a thin, dark-faced +gentleman who wore plain white clothes. Marston, however, noted that his +hat and silk belt were remarkably good, and thought he had somewhere +seen his portrait, only the man had then worn a handsome uniform. Bob +got up as the strangers advanced and Wyndham, taking off his hat, gave +him a quick glance. Marston felt he was warned to brace himself. + +"My poor house is honored to-day," Don Luis remarked. "Our illustrious +President will breakfast with us." + +The President smiled urbanely and Don Luis presented his guests. Wyndham +saw and frankly returned Larrinaga's twinkle, but he felt some strain +and hoped Bob would take the proper line. If, as he thought, he +understood Don Ramon, the latter had, perhaps, hinted they would sooner +breakfast unceremoniously in the patio; Wyndham afterwards found this +supposition correct. The stage was, so to speak, properly set. The light +was strong and a row of windows commanded the table. Nothing indicated +plot or secrecy. The party would meet without reserve and engage in +careless talk. + +"I did not know his Excellency was at the mission, or I might have +ventured to offer him hospitality," Don Luis remarked when the President +was served. + +"Nobody knows," said the latter, smiling. "Now and then I neglect my +duties and steal away from town. I can trust my officers, when they do +not know I have gone. A President has some cares and perhaps deserves a +holiday. Besides, I like to watch my soldiers' drill." + +Wyndham imagined the President had thought it prudent to account for his +visit to the mission, and admitted that the statement was plausible. He +said that so far as he could judge, the _cazadores_ were excellently +drilled. + +"I understand it was dark when you saw them," the President replied. +"However, if soldiers interest you and I am not recalled to town, you +and Senor Marston must come and see them at the morning parade." + +"I hope we did not break your rules last night," said Marston. "Perhaps +I ought to have pulled up sooner, but my horse was fresh and got out of +control. Then I was not used to the saddle and stirrups. I do not ride +much." + +"Senor Marston is a sailor, what the English call a yachts-man," +Larrinaga interposed. "For him, sport means the sea. His taste is +strange, but some of his countrymen are like that. If I were rich, I +would sooner amuse myself at the casino." + +"Then our friend is rich?" the President remarked. "But I +remember--these gentlemen paid some duties our officers neglected to +collect. It is a thing that does not often happen in this country. Since +Senor Marston is both rich and honest, he has my felicitations. However, +we owe him and Don Luis some apologies." He turned to the others. "I +hope you were not treated roughly, but our new officers are very strict +and use all military caution." + +Wyndham laughed. "We make no complaint. But surely even a German officer +could not imagine three or four men with shot-guns meant to attack a +battalion of soldiers as brave and disciplined as yours? We would much +like to see them in the daylight." + +"If I am allowed to stop at the mission, we will fix a time," the +President said graciously. + +"Is not the mission an awkward spot for a barracks?" Wyndham asked. "It +is a long way from the town and the road is bad." + +"It is lonely and quiet. Ours is a small country and we have jealous +neighbors. One must take precautions, but, since spies are numerous, it +is not prudent to display our readiness to fight. When one wants peace, +one does not go about with a fine new pistol in one's belt." + +Wyndham agreed. The President's explanation was plausible and his +humorous frankness calculated to banish doubt, but Wyndham was not +deceived. Moreover, he thought Larrinaga was watching him. Larrinaga's +object for bringing the President was plain; he wanted his master to +see the men he had allowed to trade at a spot where the Bat would try to +get supplies. Wyndham felt that he and Marston were being closely +examined. Then the President turned to Marston. + +"Since I am told you came from Africa in your little ship, it looks as +if you are a keen sailor." + +"I love the sea," said Marston, simply. "There is no other sport like +sailing." + +The President shrugged, and pushing back his plate, gave Marston a +cigar. + +"It is a love that needs cultivation. When I go to sea I am very ill. +Then one understands you others have comfortable yachts. To go to sea in +a trading boat is another thing." + +"All the same, one is at sea," Marston replied. "Besides, in a sense, a +yacht is a toy, and when you have sailed about for a time you begin to +feel it is playing and does not lead to much." He paused and resumed +apologetically: "Yachting is not serious, if you understood. I expect my +Castilian is very bad." + +The President smiled and Wyndham thought his look of puzzled amusement +was well done. He was satisfied with his comrade's reply. Bob was not +playing up; he was sincere. The others would recognize this. + +"The English are a serious people," the President remarked. "But go on, +my friend. I am not bored." + +"Well," said Marston, "when I got tired of playing, I saw how I could +make my yachting useful. I thought I could earn some money. Then Harry, +I mean Senor Wyndham--" He stopped and gave Wyndham an apologetic +glance. + +"He means he wanted to help me," Wyndham interposed. + +"To earn money is certainly useful," the President observed and turned +to Wyndham. "Your partner is a very scrupulous gentleman; he would not +rob me and feels that he must use his talents. But you do not go to sea +altogether because you like it?" + +"I am a merchant and live by trade. I am forced to earn money." + +"Then I hope you will earn enough to pay us our duties and I expect Don +Ramon will help you when he can," said the President. "I am sorry we +have no ships to show Senor Marston, because we are too poor to build a +navy yet. We have an old gunboat and a big new tug. I do not know why we +bought the tug, but the captain of the port-guards uses her to travel +about the coast." + +He paused and got up. "Now I must go back to the mission. If it is +possible, you shall see our soldiers, and if not, I may perhaps come to +see your ship." + +Larrinaga and Don Luis went off with him and Marston drained his glass. + +"That's done with!" he remarked with keen relief. "After all, it was +easier than I thought, but I got a knock when I saw the fellow was the +President. Don Luis is a staunch supporter of his and perhaps he +imagined breakfasting with him would be a cheap reward. Presidents and +such people do things like that." + +"It's possible, but I doubt," said Wyndham dryly. + +"Then suppose he came to study us? Do you think he feels we might be +dangerous?" + +"I imagined he feels he needn't bother about you. I'd much like to know +what he thinks about me." + +"Oh, well," said Marston, "he didn't push me hard and I got a part I +could play. I'm on firm ground so long as I can talk about boats. All +the same, when you come to think of it, if the fellow wanted to study +us, the thing's ominous. The country's not big, but he's its head and I +don't know if Presidents are often polite to traders." + +"Exactly!" said Wyndham. "We must be careful. Anyhow, we have found out +something. They don't want us to think they suspect us, or that their +drilling the soldiers is important. They're clever, but their frankness +was overdone. However, we must start for the port when Don Luis +returns." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A SAIL IN THE DARK + + +_Columbine_'s gig rubbed against the landing steps and Wyndham and +Marston lounged about the end of the mole. The sun had sunk behind a +high, black range and the land-breeze had begun to blow in gentle gusts +that crisped the greasy water and dropped again. When the crew were +trimming ballast in the hold, a man shouted that some chain Wyndham had +ordered had arrived, and he and Marston pulled the gig to the steps. +After putting the chain on board, they strolled to the town, where they +drank a glass of wine and bought a newspaper; and then went back to the +mole. For the last few nights they had slept on board, but it was early +in the evening and the top of the wall was cooler than the deck of the +yacht. Besides, a Spanish liner was steering for the port and they +waited to watch her passengers land. + +Presently Wyndham looked up from the newspaper. "It's lucky we bought +the _Diario_. It declares the report that the Sta Catalina mission was +recently plundered is not confirmed." + +"Isn't that Father Sebastian's station?" Marston asked. + +Wyndham nodded. "A few mud huts, and a small, thatched church! Still, it +belongs to a famous Order and pious folk no doubt sent gifts, because +the _Diario_'s remarks indicate that the Virgin's jewels were supposed +to have been stolen. If this is true, the thing's significant. The most +part of the people here are pretty staunch Catholics." + +"But the newspaper states the report is _not_ confirmed." + +"It is not denied," said Wyndham, meaningly. "I imagine the Government +had given the editor a hint. You see, the desecration of a church by +negroes would rouse the citizens' feelings and lead to a popular demand +for swift punishment. If the President complied, the Bat would know +about it, and the republicans would lose the advantage of surprise. All +the same, they must strike soon, because the Bat will now get ready." + +"Then, why do you think he let his people rob the mission?" + +"I don't think he did so. Perhaps some were too keen and got out of +control; perhaps some meant to force Larrinaga to put him down. They're +a treacherous lot and given to intrigue. However, there's another bit of +news. The gunboat, _Campeador_, has gone into Anagas, damaged, after +stranding, and will need extensive repairs. I expect this is true, +because folks at Anagas could see the boat." + +"It's important," Marston declared. "If the gunboat's damaged, Don Ramon +can't use her to carry his troops. Still I suppose the Government tug +could tow them along the coast on board the lighters. They are +overhauling her at San Cristobal. Looks as if we had better find out +when they'll finish the job." + +Wyndham nodded. San Cristobal was some distance off; a small town with a +good harbor, where there was a foundry and a coaling wharf. Yet it would +be dangerous to make open inquiries about the tug or to visit the +place, because Wyndham had grounds for imagining they were watched. +Indeed, one of the port-guards was lounging near them. When a whistle +screamed he looked up and saw the liner circle outside the mole. Foam +broke about her side as the screw turned astern, a row of lights flashed +into brightness, and big electric hatch lamps blazed up on deck. She +stopped, the anchor splashed, and the doctor's noisy launch went off. +Then the yellow flag came down and shore boats crowded about the ship. + +It was nearly dark when the returning boats pulled towards the mole. A +steamer was anchored near the entrance, and _Columbine_ rode between her +and the wall, leaving a narrow channel through which the boats must +pass. When the first was close by Wyndham glanced carelessly at the +passengers, but after a few moments his glance got fixed. Among the row +of faces there was one he thought he knew and as the boat drew level +with him he clenched his fist. + +"Look at the third man in the stern-sheets, Bob," he said. + +Marston looked and started. "It's Peters! This is going to make things +awkward. The brute has lost no time. D'you think he knows we're here?" + +"He knows _Columbine_," said Wyndham. "I imagine he sees her." Peters +turned his head and his movements indicated that he was talking to the +sailor who rowed on the thwart in front. + +"That is enough," Marston remarked. "He'll try us again in the morning, +and if we're firm, he'll see what he can do with Larrinaga. We are going +to be firm. I won't buy off the brute." + +"Then we had better get to sea, but we must find out about the tug +before we start. On the whole, I think we'll get about it now." + +Marston was surprised. "San Cristobal's a long way off, and I don't know +if we could hire horses. Then I doubt if we could return by noon +to-morrow, and one of the port-guards might board _Columbine_ in the +morning. Larrinaga would guess our object if he found out where we'd +gone." + +"Exactly," said Wyndham. "We can't go by road, but the gig is here and +we'd shorten the distance by sailing across the bay. In fact, if we're +lucky, we ought to have an hour or two to look about and then get back +by daybreak. The land-breeze will soon blow fresh; a fair wind both +ways." + +"By George!" said Marston. "The thing can be done!" + +Running down the steps, they pushed off the gig. She was a well-built +boat, twenty feet long, and on the African coast Marston had got a Fanti +carpenter to fit her with a centerboard. She carried a big sail when she +had a crew on board, and now the heavy chain would make good ballast. +When they had got a compass, a lantern, and some food from _Columbine_, +they pulled off among some shore boats going to the liner, and vanished +into the darkness round her stern. + +"If the port-guard saw us, he'd reckon we meant to board the mailboat, +but it's possible he didn't pick us out from the others," Wyndham +remarked. "Well, the breeze is freshening. Let's put up the mast." + +They were occupied for some minutes, and then Wyndham sat down at the +tiller and the gig, leaning over, gathered speed. Marston had had the +lugsail and jib made in England by a famous yacht-chandler, and the +boat was fast. Foam piled up at her lee bow, lapped the gunwale at her +waist, and boiled round her stern. The breeze came down in gusts from +the high land, and now and then the boat, listing sharply, shipped some +water. Wyndham might have avoided this by slackening the sheet, but he +held on to the rope and kept his course. Although the night was dark, he +could see the hills against the sky and for a time he followed the +coast. Then, when the shore curved back in a wide bay, he told Marston +to put the compass on the thwart and light the lantern. + +"Get out the baler and bucket, afterwards," he said. "There's room +enough for the wind to knock up the sea, and she'll take some water on +board as we reach across. Time's valuable and we must hold her to it, +without shortening sail." + +Marston crouched behind the lifted weather gunwale and lighted the +lantern; then he saw that halyards and sheets were clear, and afterwards +pulled up the well-board in the stern flooring. Sitting down with the +baler in his hand by the hole, he waited and looked about. The sea began +to break as they drew out from the land. Showers of spray beat into the +hollow of the jib and the splashes that blew across the weather bow got +heavier. The wind was not, as they had hoped, abeam, but a point or two +ahead, and Marston lowered the centerboard, which jolted in its trunk +when she plunged. She was not shipping much water yet and he wondered +whether he could light his pipe. Then Wyndham said, "Look out!" + +A white comber rose to windward, there was a thud, and jib and short +bowsprit vanished. A white cloud hid the mainsail and foaming water +flooded aft. As he used the baler Marston heard the sheet-blocks rattle. +Wyndham was easing her while he threw the water out. It was hard to fill +the bucket because the flood washed to and fro, but he knew the job was +urgent. He was wet and breathless when he looked up. + +"A nasty one!" he gasped. + +"Here's another," said Wyndham, and flying water whipped Marston's face. + +After this he was kept occupied. Sometimes he used the bucket and +sometimes the baler, for water came on board fast. Now and then he +imagined Wyndham slackened the sheet to ease a plunge that might swamp +the boat, but this was Harry's business and he must not neglect his. +Balancing himself against the lurching, he scooped up the splashing +flood. When a gust heeled the boat over it gained on him, and then as +the pressure slackened he held his own, but while he used his best +efforts he could not bale her dry. At length, when his arms ached and he +was very wet, he stopped for a few moments. + +"Don't know if I can keep it up for long; I'm horribly cramped," he +said. "Can't we drop the lug and tie in a reef?" + +"I doubt if she'd hold her course with sail shortened," Wyndham replied. +"The breeze has drawn another point ahead and we'll lose time we can't +spare if we're forced to tack. Stick it out, Bob. We'll get smoother +water when we pick up the land again." + +He stopped and jerked the tiller, a moment too late, for a sea came over +the bow. The water foamed about Marston's knees, the lantern went out, +and he thought he felt the compass strike his legs. + +"Bale!" said Wyndham, sharply. "She'll capsize if she ships another +before you get this lot out." + +Marston did his best, while the lantern and compass washed against the +bucket. There was no use in stopping to pick them up, since he could not +get a light and Harry was now steering by the wind. He must keep her as +near it as she would point until they crossed the bay and found the land +again. Marston hoped this would be soon. For some time he did not look +up and afterwards wondered how Wyndham kept her afloat, but at length +the plunges got easier and the water did not come on board so fast. By +degrees, he got it under, and stopping to stretch his cramped limbs, +looked to windward. The sea was smoother and the breeze not so fresh. +There was a vague dark line not far off and he knew they were +approaching the beach. + +"We'll be round the point in a few minutes," said Wyndham. "Bale her +dry, and then look out for the red light at San Cristobal." + +Soon after he stopped baling, Marston saw a red twinkle. The gig was +sailing very fast, swaying down and recovering buoyantly as the gusts +came and went. The lug-yard bent in a strained curve and showers of +spray blew into the sail. Marston, stooping behind the gunwale, managed +to strike a match and told Wyndham the time when he had looked at his +watch. + +"We have made a good run, but she'll beat it going back, when we'll have +the wind a point or two aft," he added. "This ought to give us an hour, +or perhaps an hour-and-a-half, at the port." + +"It will be enough. Unluckily, the tide is ebbing yet, and although +there's not much rise and fall, I don't know if we can both leave the +boat. It would be awkward if she grounded and we couldn't shove her +off." + +Marston nodded. The gig was heavy and he doubted if they could launch +her down a beach. It would be risky to tie her to landing steps, because +the port-guards watched the harbors at night. Vessels were not allowed +to enter after dark. Yet he did not want to be separated from Harry. + +In the meantime, they were fast coming up with the light, and when a +high, dark wall ran out in front Wyndham luffed the boat and they +lowered sail and took down the mast. Marston sculled her past the wall, +and the narrow harbor opened up. A few anchor lights swung languidly +inside, and the indistinct, dark shape of a steamer shut out part of the +wall. When they got near her Marston stopped sculling. + +"The repairing slip is up at the top by the foundry," he said. "I expect +the brigantine to starboard has a rope out. If we try to get across, we +might make a splash. If we go the other side, we'll pass close under the +steamer's rail. She's a pretty big boat; they'll have a _Sereno_ on +board, and keep harbor watch. If somebody hailed us, it might bring the +port-guard." + +Wyndham nodded and for a few moments they looked about. The harbor was +long and narrow. For the most part, the town at its end was dark, but +two or three big electric lamps threw a silver gleam across indistinct +masses of foliage. Marston thought these were trees on the _marina_ at +the water's edge. If so, the faint light lower down came from the office +of the port-captain. Turning to the wall abreast of the gig, he +imagined he saw some steps. + +"Perhaps you had better land me and wait while I try to find the tug," +he said. "I ought to get back in an hour." + +"The awkward part is going along the mole," Wyndham replied. "You'll +have to pass two or three vessels and somebody may speak to you. This +must be risked one way, but instead of coming back, it might be prudent +to cross the land end of the mole and join me on the beach in front of +the _marina_. There's not much surf to bother us, but it will make some +noise and if anybody is about you won't be heard." + +Marston agreed, and sculling to the steps, jumped out. He pushed off the +gig, and Wyndham picked up the oar. In another few moments the boat +vanished in the dark. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE TUG + + +When he had climbed the steps Marston stopped. Now he had started on his +adventure he saw its difficulties. To begin with, he must pass two or +three vessels, and the lights that burned on the steamer touched the +mole. She came from Cadiz and Spanish passenger boats carried a +_Sereno_, whose particular duty was to keep watch at night. Marston was +afraid the man might hail him. Although he had laboriously studied +Castilian, he did not speak it well, and his accent would indicate that +he was a foreigner. If the _Sereno_ were curious and kept him talking, +the port-guard might come up. Anyhow, there was some risk of his meeting +the latter and he would then be asked to account for his wandering about +in the dark. It was obvious that he could not do so satisfactorily, and +there was a telephone to the Government office at the Capital. + +Marston doubted if Larrinaga could imprison him for spying, but it did +not matter much. If he were found at San Cristobal, Don Ramon would know +his object and would not let him go until he had sent off his soldiers +to put down the Bat. If the latter were not warned, he would probably be +surprised and captured. This was unthinkable, and Marston saw he must +not be caught, although to run away from the port-guard might lead to +his getting shot. The fellows carried pistols, which they were +empowered to use. Caution was plainly needed, and he crept past the +steamer, keeping close to the high parapet of the mole. + +Nobody hailed him, and he went on until he came opposite a small marque. +She had no lights, but as he stole by his foot struck a mooring rope and +he fell. He lay flat on the ground for some moments, and then, hearing +no movement on board, got up and crept away, looking out for the next +rope. The mole was long and he had not gone far when he heard the splash +of oars. A boat came out of the dark, and a break in the wall indicated +a row of steps. Marston did not want to turn back, and it was possible +the men were going to one of the vessels. If they were going to the +town, he had better get past the steps before they landed. A pile of +goods forced him to leave the gloom of the parapet and it looked as if +his figure cut against the sky, for the splash of oars stopped. + +"_Ola companero!_" somebody shouted. + +Marston saw he must trust his luck and asked gruffly: "_Que quiere?_" + +The man said they were coming to let go a schooner's rope but he might +throw it down, and Marston dragged the heavy warp to the edge. + +"_Coje-le_," he said in a hoarse voice and threw down the rope. + +He imagined it fell upon the others' heads, for somebody said, "_Mal +rayo! Esta borracho._" + +Then the boat pulled away and Marston went on. If the fellows thought +him drunk, so much the better. This would account for his brevity and +uncouth accent. He wondered whether the shouting had excited the +port-guards' curiosity, but although he stopped to listen he heard +nothing. + +By-and-by he got near the end of the mole and distinguished the +repairing ship, which ran down obliquely to the water. The trees on the +_marina_ rose behind it, touched in places by the glow from two big +electric lamps, and a blurred, dark mass cut against the illumination. +This was, no doubt, the tug and he wondered, rather anxiously, whether +the crew were on board. Stopping where the gloom was deepest, he looked +carefully about. + +The tug's bow rose high above him, but he doubted if the tide had left +her stern. So far as he could feel with his feet, the stones were +covered by broken shells, and he smelt paint. In the tropics, the bottom +of an iron vessel soon gets crusted with shells and weed, and it looked +as if the crew had scraped the boat. When the plates were clean they +would paint her with red-oxide before applying the anti-fouling coat. It +was important for him to find out which they had put on, because, since +they could only work at low-water, this might mean a difference of a day +or two in the time needed to finish the job. All the same, he could not +take it for granted that she would be ready for sea when the last coat +was dry. He understood her engines were being overhauled, and must +ascertain if the work were done. + +Marston moved lower down the inclined slip. The tug was a big propeller +boat and rested, upright, on heavy shores. When he was level with the +engine-room he saw a ladder against her side and his foot struck +something that tinkled. Stooping down, he felt about and found a number +of short tubes, some of which had torn ends. They had obviously come +from the condenser, and re-tubing a condenser might be a long job. It +looked as if he would have to get on board, but, to begin with, he had +better see how far the men had gone with the painting. + +He rubbed his hand along the plates. Although they were pretty smooth, +this did not tell him much and he got no plainer hint when he used his +nose. There was a strong smell of paint, but he could not tell if it was +the priming coat, or the anti-fouling that would finish the work. +Perhaps he could find the drum that had held the paint and he began to +feel about as he moved down the slip. He had not gone far, however, when +he trod on a piece of iron that tilted up and dropped with a sharp +rattle. To continue the search might be dangerous and he stopped and +listened. + +All was quiet on board the tug; the trees on the _marina_ tossed in the +wind and the surf rumbled behind the mole. A clinking noise came up the +harbor and Marston imagined the men whose rope he had thrown down were +getting ready to go to sea at sunrise; vessels were not allowed to leave +or enter port in the dark. This reminded Marston that it was some time +since he had left Wyndham and they must reach the schooner before +daybreak. + +He went back up the slip, hoping he might be able to see the tug's deck. +Now he was on higher ground, he noted a faint and rather puzzling +illumination behind her bulwarks. Its position indicated that it came +from the engine-room and he imagined the skylight was open but somebody +had thrown a tarpaulin across the frames. The hinged lights opened from +the bottom, and perhaps the engineer wanted to dry his paint and yet +keep the heavy dew off the machinery. Anyhow, since there was a light in +the engine-room, one could see below. + +Marston hesitated at the bottom of the ladder. It would be very awkward +if he were caught on board the tug; but he must find out if she were +ready for sea and he wore light, rubber-soled deck shoes. The ladder was +not fastened, for the top began to slip along the plates when he +climbed, and he was forced to reach up and seize the rail. Next moment +he stepped cautiously down on deck. Nobody seemed to have heard him and +all was dark but for the glow from the skylight, which only shone for a +few feet on the damp planks. As Marston made for the engine-room his +foot struck an iron drum and he stopped. It was a paint-drum, but he +must discover if it were empty and what paint the crew had used. + +He tilted the drum and its lightness indicated that there was not much +inside. Then he turned it round carefully until he could see the brass +label on the top. The letters were obscured by paint, but he +distinguished JES--and was satisfied. He knew the famous anti-fouling +composition; the crew had put on the last coat and, so far as her being +painted went, the tug was ready for sea. Now he must look at her +engines, and he put back the drum. Its rim jarred on the deck and +Marston thought he heard a movement below. Stooping down, he looked +under the tarpaulin and got something of a shock. + +A man stood on the floor plates in the engine-room, with his face turned +up towards the skylight as if he had been disturbed. Marston could not +see him well, because the bars of the top platform were in the way, but +the fellow carried a small, bright piece of steel and a ball of waste. +It looked as if he had been cleaning a valve-spindle, and his working at +night was significant. Marston's heart beat, but after a few moments the +other seemed to be satisfied and sitting down on a locker picked up a +file. + +When the fellow bent his head over his work Marston glanced carefully +about the engine-room. He saw the condenser; the cover was on, which +indicated that the repairs were finished. A chain tackle hung from the +beams above the cylinders and some nuts lay about their heads. The +pistons had obviously been lifted in order to put on new rings. Other +things Marston noted implied that the engines had been given a thorough +overhaul. He thought the work was nearly completed, but when one +examined a vessel's engines the boiler was generally opened and he crept +cautiously to the stokehold. + +The ladder came up to a grating on deck and when he had gone down half +way he struck a match. He could see the man-hole; the cover had recently +been taken off and replaced, for smears of red-lead marked the joint, +and Marston went cautiously back to the deck. He knew all he wanted to +know. The tug had been put in first-rate order, as if in preparation for +some important work, and he thought she could be floated off after +another tide. He must now rejoin Wyndham as soon as possible. So far, he +had been lucky, but when he went to the rail it looked as if his luck +had turned. + +A man, singing lustily, crossed the _marina_ and his hoarseness implied +that he was returning from a carouse. As he passed the port-captain's +office somebody hailed him and Marston heard him answer, "_Fogonero_." + +There was a short colloquy that seemed to get abusive, and then somebody +said, "_Vaya al diablo!_" + +The man laughed and came on unsteadily towards the mole. He was a ship's +fireman, and Marston, who did not want to meet him, hoped he was not +making for the tug. After a few moments he fell down and Marston thought +he kicked something savagely when he got up. His figure was now faintly +distinguishable and it was plain that he meant to board the tug. Marston +crawled round the skylight and crouched against the bulwarks on the +other side. A rope ran across the rail and he tried to feel if its end +was fast. The rope might help him to reach the ground. + +Then the awkward steps stopped at the tug and the ladder shook. Its +upper end slipped and a noise below indicated that the fireman had +fallen off. + +"Pancho, Panchito!" he shouted. "Come out and help, little parrot!" + +Marston heard the engineer clatter across the iron platforms and cross +the deck. So far as Marston could understand, his remarks were grossly +rude, but the other interrupted: + +"What is a small bottle of _cana_ to a fireman? It is the ladder that is +drunk. If you will not hold it, little parrot, I must sleep in the +cold." + +To judge by the noise they made, Pancho seized the ladder while the +other scrambled up. He jumped on deck, laughing boisterously, a door +shut, and when the men's feet rattled on the platform bars in the +engine-room Marston crawled across the deck. He found the top of the +ladder, but had only gone down a few steps when it slipped across the +side and threw him off. Although he did not fall far, the ladder struck +the ground with a crash and he lay down in the gloom under the tug's +bilge. + +After waiting for a few moments he saw the others were not coming back +on deck, and he got up and stole along the slip. Crossing the mole with +a few quick steps, he climbed the parapet and dropped to the stones on +the other side. When he had gone a hundred yards along the beach he +whistled softly, and although the gravel rolled about in the languid +surf heard Wyndham's answer. Then the gig's white hull appeared +indistinctly among the streaks of foam, and he plunged into the backwash +as a wave recoiled. Seizing the gig's bow, he pushed her off and got on +board while Wyndham sculled her round. For two or three minutes they let +her drift off-shore; and then stepped the mast and hoisted sail. + +"Well?" said Wyndham. "Did you find the tug?" + +Marston related his adventures and added: "I expect they'll float her +off next tide, but some of the small jobs I noted would hardly be +finished. Then she'll have to coal, fill her tanks, and get up steam. In +fact, I don't imagine she could start until sometime after dark +to-morrow. Five or six lighters were lying near the slip." + +"She'll no doubt bring them across," said Wyndham thoughtfully. "I +expect the skipper will go half-speed across the bay. Well, suppose she +arrives in the morning? The sea-breeze will freshen as the sun gets +high, and towing the loaded boats would be dangerous in broken water; +perhaps we can take it for granted the troops won't leave until it's +dark. At night they'd get smooth water, because the wind's off the land. +This means we have about forty-eight hours' warning. But slack the jib +sheet a little. Our first job's to get on board by daybreak." + +As they opened up the bay the sea got rougher, but the wind was on the +gig's quarter and they let her go. She rolled on the angry combers and +the boom that stretched the lugsail's foot tossed up. If she fell off +much and the sail lurched across, the shock would capsize her or carry +away the mast. Wyndham, however, held her straight and she drove on, +with curling foam piled about her side. It was a wild run and they were +glad when they got near the land again and found shelter. The sea was +smooth now, and the breeze moderate, although it blew in gusts that +heeled the boat and set the water splashing against her planks. Once or +twice Wyndham made Marston strike a match and look at his watch. + +"We may get in, but we have not much time to spare," he said at length. + +The breeze fell and the boat rose nearly upright. Marston put out an oar +and began to pull, for when he looked east the sky was getting pale. The +gig was sailing, but the splash at the bows was faint and at times the +canvas hung slack. Half an hour afterwards they pulled down the mast and +Wyndham took the other oar. + +"A steady stroke! Don't force the pace. But you have got to row!" he +said. + +The need for speed was plain. The eastern sky was clearing and the mist +began to roll back from the coast. Marston saw a belt of surf and +shadowy rocks and woods. Ahead, a light marked the harbor mouth, but it +was some distance off and the gig was a heavy boat for two men to row. +Yet they must reach port before day broke, and, gasping and straining, +they labored on. After his hasty glance about, Marston saw nothing but +Wyndham's back, swinging to and fro in front with a regularity that he +must emulate. He felt the bow lift as he dragged the heavy oar through +the water; then there was a faint gurgle, and his heart beat as he swung +forward again. His hands blistered and the sweat ran into his eyes. + +At length, Wyndham said something hoarsely and a high wall, washed by +languid surf, rose above the boat. They were entering the harbor, but +Marston dared not turn to look ahead. The light was growing and the wall +would guide them to _Columbine_. He must not miss a stroke, because the +port-guard might be able to see them now. Three or four minutes +afterwards, Wyndham stopped rowing and said, "Easy! Let her go!" + +Marston fell forward with his oar and fought for breath. His heart beat +like a hammer, his arms and legs trembled, and he felt he had not +strength to lift his head. Then the end of his oar struck something and +they were alongside _Columbine_. Rousing himself with an effort, he +leaned out and seized a rope. Wyndham got up and began to lift the mast. + +"Find the compass and lantern; then help me put the gear on board," he +said. + +When the gig was empty of all but the oars they got over the schooner's +rail and pulled off their wet clothes. In the tropics, white men, as a +rule, do not bathe in cold water, but the galley fire was not lighted +and Wyndham filled a bucket over the side. The cool brine braced them, +and going to the cabin, they began to take out dry clothes. Wyndham, +however, stopped, as if listening, and Marston heard the splash of oars. + +"Pyjamas, I think," said Wyndham. "Somebody's coming." + +As they put on their pyjamas the oars stopped close by and a man +shouted. + +"One of us will be enough," Wyndham resumed. "Look as sleepy as you +can." + +Marston went up, with his pyjamas half buttoned, and leaned on the rail. +It was daylight, for on the Caribbean dawn comes swiftly at about six +o'clock. A boat carrying two men in the port-guards' uniform floated a +few yards off. Marston thought they were looking at the gig, and he +waited in keen suspense. + +"A note from Senor Larrinaga," said one. + +"Don Ramon gets up early," Marston remarked with a yawn, and when the +man gave him the note added: "Wait a minute." + +Opening the envelope he went to the cabin and said to Wyndham, "We are +asked to breakfast at the mission and see the soldiers parade. I imagine +we're expected to stop the day. Don Ramon is sending horses; they'll be +ready in half an hour." + +"Well," said Wyndham, "I suppose we must go." + +Marston gave the men a bottle of _cana_ and sent them off. Then he went +back and sat down limply. + +"If we had been ten minutes longer, they'd have found us out," he said. +"I don't feel up to riding far, and their asking us to the mission now +is awkward. Still I expect we couldn't sail until it's dark. It's lucky +we got our clearance papers." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT THE MISSION + + +Half an hour after the boat pulled away, Marston and Wyndham mounted the +horses Larrinaga had sent. The mission was some distance off, but +breakfast would not be served until about eleven o'clock and they rode +slowly up the hill behind the town. Two soldiers followed thirty or +forty yards in the rear, but Marston had found out that they knew no +English. Wyndham was quiet and preoccupied. + +"The horses are the best I've seen, and I suppose Don Ramon's sending an +escort is something of a compliment," Marston said presently. "We are +going to the mission like honored guests; I don't know about our coming +back. Yet we must get back to-night." + +"We calculated the tug would sail with the lighters to-morrow after dark +and we need twenty-four hours' start," Wyndham replied. "It ought to be +enough, if the breeze is strong; landing the troops will be a long job. +However, we must not be late." + +Marston agreed. Larrinaga was using every precaution to keep the +dispatch of the expedition secret, and no doubt hoped to surprise the +Bat. If they were too late, they might be captured with him. If, +however, they brought him warning long enough beforehand, he might make +a stubborn defense, and this would involve them in fresh entanglements. + +"I'd feel happier if I knew the President's plans for to-day," Marston +resumed. + +"So would I," said Wyndham, smiling. "I imagine they will, to some +extent, depend on the line we take. On the whole, his object for sending +for us is plain; he wants to keep us away from the port as long as +possible." + +"If he thought we were spying for the Bat, he might lock us up." + +"I think not. He would then have to inform the consul and state the +grounds for our arrest. All the same, if he's not satisfied, he may tax +us with cheating the customs or something of the kind and keep us until +the tug has sailed. In the meantime, perhaps it's lucky we are not about +the port, because I think Peters won't offer his help to the Government +until he has seen us. If Larrinaga knew what Peters knows, we wouldn't +reach the lagoon." + +"I expect that is so," said Marston gloomily. "Well, it will be a big +relief when all this intrigue is done with and we leave the coast for +good." + +For the most part they were silent until they reached the mission. The +building was old and falling to ruin, but it had a touch of stateliness, +for its foundations were laid when the Spanish conquerors were +influenced by the austere beauty of Moorish art. The front was pierced +by Saracenic arches that led to a cloistered walk on one side of the +patio, from which an outside stair went up to the officers' rooms. The +rest of the building was plainer and was now used for a barracks. Palms +grew round the square in front and in the background dusky forest rolled +back to the mountains that cut the sky. Two or three companies of +_cazadores_ were drawn up in the square. + +The President and Larrinaga received their guests at the central arch, +where chairs had been put in the shade. There was another gentleman, +whom Wyndham imagined belonged to the President's cabinet, and he +thought the minister quietly studied him and Marston. It was possible +Senor Villar had joined the party with this object. If so, it looked as +if the others had not yet decided if they were dangerous or not. + +"Now you have arrived, we will go on with the drill," the President +remarked. "Afterwards, Senor Marston will tell us what he thinks about +my soldiers." + +"My opinion is not worth much; I am a sailor," Marston replied with some +awkwardness, because he thought the President was amused. + +"You are modest," the latter rejoined. "Well, we cannot ask what you +think about our fleet. Our gunboat, the _Campeador_, has stranded, and +this only leaves us the tug." + +"I have seen the tug," said Marston, and stopping for a moment, went on: +"A very fine boat! She looks powerful and ought to steam fast." + +Wyndham wondered whether the others had noted Marston's pause. It was +not long and perhaps his frank admission would satisfy them. + +"Let us try to turn kilometers into what you call knots," said the +President. "It is a complicated sum; you must help me, Don Ramon." + +"About twelve knots," Wyndham interposed when they began the +calculation. "However, you must not indulge my comrade by letting him +talk about ships. We came to see the soldiers." + +The President signed to an officer, who shouted, and the _cazadores_ +wheeled and formed on a new front. The bands and muzzles of their rifles +sparkled in the searching light and dust rolled about them as they +moved. They were little, wiry men, and although they did not drill +remarkably well and their white uniforms were not clean, Wyndham noted +that their rifles were good. Moreover, their equipment was up to date +and new. + +The officer, shouting savagely, kept the men moving about, and when at +length he dismissed them came back, hot and sprinkled by dust, with a +look of disgust. Wyndham, allowing something for the German character, +thought the disgust was rather marked. + +"Then you are not satisfied yet?" the President asked. + +"They are your Excellency's subjects," the other replied with a shrug. +"I do my best, but we do not make much progress. Perhaps, with extra +drill for two or three months----" + +The President laughed. "One must use patience, and in this country one +goes slowly. Besides, I do not know if speed is needed." He turned to +Wyndham. "Now we will leave you to Don Arnoldo for a few minutes. I +promised Senor Villar I would examine the quartermaster's books. There +are people who grumble about our military extravagance." + +He went off with the others and the officer sat down. Wyndham imagined +him a soldier of fortune whose main object was to earn his pay. For all +that, it looked as if he had been given a part in the plot and had +played up well. + +"I expect you find drilling these fellows a tiresome job," Marston said +in English. + +"It is so," the other agreed. "The President is too ambitious; I think +he wastes his money. His people have no military feeling; they are +stupid individualists and one cannot give them mass-consciousness. One +might make them brigands, but not soldiers. Yet I think they would +fight, and after all, the best school for soldiers is war." + +"You don't want a war for the sake of drilling your men!" Marston +exclaimed, and the officer laughed. + +"In my country, we are no longer sentimentalists and I do not pretend to +be humanitarian. In the meantime, there is no war, and I am satisfied to +draw my pay. Playing with soldiers is expensive, and some of the people +grumble, but so far the pay is regular. When it stops I give up my +post." + +Soon afterwards, the President came back and breakfast was served behind +the pillars. For a time he talked to Marston about the soldiers and then +remarked: "I understand you do not stop long." + +"Our business is nearly finished and we expect to sail very soon," +Wyndham replied. "Now our visit to the coast is over, I feel there is +much for which we must thank you and Don Ramon." + +"We hope your visit has been prosperous enough to bring you back," +Villar interposed. "You paid us some duties. All foreigners are not so +honest." + +"I expect foreigners are something of a nuisance. It is strange, but +when one goes abroad one feels justified in breaking rules." + +Villar smiled. "This is illogical. Have you broken our rules?" + +"Not many; my partner is scrupulous, and if I have given way to +temptation, it was not from greediness." + +"Then what persuaded you?" + +"Perhaps it was British impatience with other people's regulations. In a +way, we are rather an arrogant lot, and it flatters our self-importance +to know that if we do get into trouble our Consuls will probably save us +from the punishment we deserve. You cannot lock up a drunken British +sailor without inquiries being made. Don Arnoldo's people are proud of +their army, but our fleet is ubiquitous." + +"Senor Wyndham is frank, although I doubt if he is just to himself," the +President remarked with a twinkle. "I will confess it is sometimes hard +to bear with foreigners philosophically, but we make the effort. My +country is poor and we need the trade and money they bring. If we do not +always love them, we make allowances." He paused and gave Wyndham a +thoughtful glance. "There is, however, one thing about which we are +firm; no stranger must meddle with our politics. It is our Monroe +doctrine and is sternly enforced." + +"A good rule," Wyndham agreed. "After all, your people do not need much +help from strangers; they have some talent for political intrigue. How +many antagonistic parties have you just now?" + +"Six," said the President dryly. "They hate each other, but to gain an +advantage all will combine against my Government. Moreover, in this +country, the vote is not the only way of marking one's disapproval. But +we will let this go. You will stop with us to-night and Don Ramon will +give you some shooting when the evening gets cool." + +Wyndham thought quickly. He had expected something like this and it was +obvious that much depended on his reply. + +"We ought to go back," he said, with pretended hesitation. "You see, we +want to sail as soon as the wind is fair and must get water and stores +on board. It might, however, help if you would let us leave port at +night. The land-breeze would carry us some distance off the coast before +it dropped when the sun got up." + +"Very well," said Larrinaga. "I will send the port-captain orders, and +if you tell him when you want to sail he will let you go." + +Wyndham allowed himself to be persuaded, and soon afterwards the +President went off and Larrinaga took them to a shady room. He said +dinner would be served at four o'clock and then they would go to a lake +and shoot. When he left them Marston looked at Wyndham. + +"Why did you agree to stop?" + +"I did not think there was much use in refusing. Their urging us to stop +was an experiment. If I had insisted on going, they'd have known why." + +"Then, d'you imagine they'd keep us by force?" asked Marston. + +"It's possible. I studied the President when I made my boast about our +British citizenship. He stated they would allow no meddling with their +politics, and he meant this. Anyhow, if I'd shown him his suspicions +were well-grounded, he would have found a plausible excuse for keeping +_Columbine_ in port." + +"All the same, we have got to get away," said Marston in a resolute +voice. + +Wyndham nodded. "That's plain. Well, if we go to bed soon after shooting +and are lucky, they won't miss us until somebody brings our early +breakfast. I don't know if we can get the horses. Now I'm going to +sleep." + +He got into a hammock and Marston lay down in a long chair. They had +been strenuously occupied all night and did not expect much rest the +next. Nobody would bother them until dinner, and although they were +disturbed and anxious they went to sleep. + +After dinner Larrinaga took them to a lake, where they shot some ducks. +The President was occupied when they returned at dark, and for a time +they sat on the arcade, playing cards. The cards were Spanish and +Marston could not remember their value and the rules of the game. +Mosquitoes hovered about them, the night was gloomy and very hot. +Something in the still air made one strangely languid. Moreover, he was +tired and anxious, and he did not feel much relief when Villar put the +cards away and they began to talk. + +Marston suspected the others' remarks were not as careless as they +looked and might lead him to some awkward statements. It was like +fencing with a clever antagonist when all one could do was to stand +clumsily on guard. For the most part, he left the talk to Wyndham, and +although Harry played up well, Marston thought the effort was difficult. +He wondered whether their companions saw this. There was one comfort; in +the tropics, people got up early and he imagined their hosts would not +sit very long. + +At length Larrinaga pushed back his chair. "Time goes and my duties +begin at sunrise. Then I think you would like to make an early start?" + +Wyndham said they must get off as soon as possible, and Larrinaga +nodded. + +"Don Arnoldo will give the necessary orders about the horses. They +belong to the soldiers and nobody else is allowed about the stable. I +believe he posts a guard at night. The Germans are like that, and the +mission is now under military rule. It has drawbacks, but the army is +the President's hobby and we submit." + +The officer laughed and said the horses would be ready soon after +daybreak, and when the others went off Marston and Wyndham climbed the +outside stairs to their room. + +"Looks as if they meant to keep us. Don Ramon's hint was plain," Marston +observed. + +"It's lucky white men don't walk much in this country," Wyndham replied. +"A _pasear_ round the plaza while the band plays is about all the +exercise people take, and I don't imagine anybody above the rank of a +_peon_ has ever walked from the mission to the port. In fact, it's very +possible Don Ramon hasn't calculated that we might set off on foot." He +paused and went to the window. "The night's dark but very calm. A noise +would carry; we must wait for some time." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +_COLUMBINE_ STEALS AWAY + + +All was quiet at the mission but for the soft rustle of the palms when a +puff of wind came down the hill. The last light had gone out behind the +narrow windows across the patio, and Wyndham, looking at his watch, got +up. + +"We must chance it now," he said. "If all goes well, we ought to reach +the port two or three hours before dawn and our hosts won't miss us +until the major-domo sends our breakfast." + +Marston pulled himself together. The port was a long way off and since +he had left England he had not walked much, but it was obvious that he +must make good speed to-night. Opening the door quietly, they stole +downstairs, carrying their boots, and stopped for a few moments in the +gloom of an arch. It was very dark; the palms across the square hardly +showed against the sky. There was a sentry on the terrace, but they +could not see him and waited until they heard his measured steps. + +When the sentry passed the arch, they crept out and started across the +square. Small stones hurt their feet, but they went on as fast as +possible, until they heard a soft rattle of leather and jingle of steel. +The sentry had wheeled round at the end of his beat and was coming back, +and they lay down on the sand and waited until the steps receded. They +must reach the gloom of the trees before he turned again, and they +pushed on, listening hard. Marston's heart beat and his hands trembled +as he clutched his boots. The measured steps stopped for a moment and +then began to get louder, but Bob drew a deep breath when he +distinguished the long branches of the palms overhead. Nobody could see +him now. + +A few minutes afterwards they set off down hill at the fastest pace they +could make. The road was rough, one could not see the holes, and Marston +was soon wet with perspiration. He had got soft in the tropics and his +legs began to ache, but he thought he was going nearly five miles an +hour. Since time was valuable, he must try to keep it up. He had no +breath to talk and Wyndham said nothing; with clenched hands and eyes +fixed straight in front they labored on. Half-seen palms went by, but in +places the gloom was impenetrable, and now and then they fell into a +hole. + +By-and-by Marston's boot began to gall his foot. The smart got worse and +sometimes he limped. When he did so, he dropped behind Wyndham, and +setting his mouth tight he trod squarely. One could not walk fast on the +side of one's foot; he must push on and bear the pain. It was ridiculous +that he should lose time because his boot scraped his toe. Yet long +afterwards he remembered the effort to keep up his speed. + +When the first white houses of the town came out of the gloom his +clothes were sticking to his skin and his wet hair was flat on his head. +He stopped and sat down in a dusty gutter. + +"I've got to take off my boots. There's a pavement of sorts," he gasped. + +Wyndham nodded and looked about. The houses were indistinct and the sky +was dark. He could not see his watch, but he calculated it was about +four o'clock and day would not break for two hours yet. Puffs of wind +touched his wet face and he heard it in the trees behind the town. They +were in time, but had none to waste. + +"Be quick!" he said. "We're a mile from the harbor." + +Marston got up and they set off. Straight and nearly blank walls now +shut them in, for the houses got light from the patios. Wyndham's steps +echoed in the dark, but except for this all was quiet. It looked as if +nobody were about. A strange smell hung about the houses, for the street +was narrow and the land-breeze did not sweep it clean. + +By-and-by they crossed a square and kept back from a lamp at the end of +another street. To meet one of the armed police would be awkward, for +although the fellow's curiosity might be appeased by a bribe, to +persuade him would occupy some time. They met nobody, but after some +minutes Wyndham thought it prudent to cross the _alameda_, where shady +paths wound among tall trees. The gloom would hide them and from one end +a dark street ran down to the harbor. Marston agreed and set his lips as +he struggled on, for the walks were covered by sharp, fresh gravel. +Stealing along the dark street, they reached the mole and stopped for a +moment. So far as they could see, the tug had not arrived, and although +they distinguished _Columbine_'s masts against the sky, she was moored +to a buoy some distance from the wall. Wyndham had warned the crew to +keep a watch, but there was a risk in hailing them. + +"One of the port-guards is generally about this side of the harbor," he +said. + +They listened, but only heard the sea splash against the wall and the +wind in a neighboring vessel's rigging. The land-breeze was fresh and +blew down the harbor. If they could get on board, it would not be long +before _Columbine_ was at sea. + +"We might swim," Marston suggested. + +"I think not," said Wyndham. "There's a nasty, splashing ripple that +would break in our faces; besides, the gig would be quicker. We must +chance a hail." + +He shouted and Marston clenched his fist when no answer came. It was +unthinkable that they should be stopped by the negligence of a sleepy +look-out. Before long the port-guard would walk up the mole, and if they +were not gone, would take them to the captain's office. One must get +leave to go on board, because the port was closed at night. + +They waited for two or three minutes, since Wyndham dared not shout +again, and then a soft rattle came out of the dark. Marston started and +thrilled. + +"I believe that's somebody jumping into the gig," he said. + +"It is," said Wyndham softly, and after a few moments added: "She's +coming." + +They could not see the boat and she made very little noise. There was no +splash; it looked as if somebody sculled her cautiously. By and by a +dark object glided out of the gloom beside the wall and they went to the +steps. + +"Go back softly, softly," Wyndham said to the indistinct figure in the +stern as they got on board. + +In a few minutes they reached the schooner and Marston's spirits rose. +He had done with tracks and plots; now his job was straightforward. +Moreover, he knew it well. + +"I'll cast off the bow mooring," he said when Wyndham got on board. +"Give me a line and you can haul the chain up quietly. It mustn't run +through the pipe." + +Shoving the gig forward, he jumped out on the buoy; then he unscrewed +the shackle and, fastening on the line he brought, waved his hand. The +chain slipped gently into the water and did not make much noise when the +men on board pulled it up. _Columbine_ was free now and had begun to +drift when Marston seized her rail. He made the gig's painter fast and +left her alongside, because the blocks on the Burton tackle would +clatter if they tried to hoist her in. It was something to feel the +schooner's deck under his galled feet, but there was much to be done +before he could indulge his relief. Although they could not see the tug, +she might have reached the port, and they must pass the three-mile limit +before they would be safe. In the meantime, _Columbine_ was drifting +slowly down the harbor. + +"We must chance hoisting the staysail," Wyndham remarked. "Get it up +handsomely; stop if the chain clinks much." + +The staysail had chain halyards and Marston sent a man aloft with a +grease-swab. For all that, the halyard made some noise and the sail +thrashed in the fresh breeze, until they hauled the sheets and Wyndham +got her round. _Columbine_, with a small triangle of canvas set, stole +down the harbor, and if the port-guards did not keep a keen look out, +she might get away. + +Marston, sitting on the bowsprit loosing the jib, watched the shadowy +wall move back. They were passing the Cuban barque and she was not far +from the end of the mole. _Columbine_ moved faster; he heard the water +ripple at her bows, and the beam of the lighthouse ahead got near. It +was a sector light, screened on one bearing, and they could keep outside +its illumination. + +In a few minutes they would clear the end of the mole, and when the jib +was loose Marston looked aft. Shadowy figures moved about the deck, +getting the canvas ready to hoist. Not long since, he had doubted if +they could steal out of the harbor. When one studied the plan coolly, it +looked ridiculous, but they had tried and he began to hope they would +succeed. Then he turned his head and thrilled as he saw the end of the +mole slip by. + +"Hoist the outer jib," said Wyndham when Marston joined him. "We must be +cautious. The captain's launch has steam up and could catch us yet." + +They got to work. The blocks rattled as the jib went up, but the wind +blew the noise away. The splash at the bows was louder, and Wyndham +waited, measuring the distance from the receding mole. + +"Boom-foresail," he said sharply. + +The tall dark canvas rose and swelled. _Columbine_ began to list and +trailed a white line astern. The mole faded and the light looked farther +off. + +"Mainsail next," said Wyndham. "Hoist handsomely." + +The winch by the mast began to clink; the big sail shook and thudded +while its slack folds blew out, and the Kroos started a wild paddling +song. The tension was over; they were running out to sea and nobody +could hear them now. The song, however, soon got breathless; it was hard +to drag up the heavy canvas while she was before the wind and Wyndham +would not round her to. He braced himself against the wheel and steered +off-shore for the three-mile limit. + +They set the sail, and got more wind as they left the land. She rolled +and foam ran level with her dipping rail. The long main boom lurched up +and groaned; one heard the masts creak and the rigging hum. Her wake ran +back into the dark like a white cataract. + +"Hoist gaff-topsail," said Wyndham. "Trim the squaresail-yard." + +Marston gave him a quick glance and then got to work. He doubted if the +gear would stand the strain, but Harry knew the boat. Although the +Krooboys looked surprised, it was obvious that they trusted him. It cost +them a struggle to cover her with sail, and she drove along almost too +fast to roll. A white wave stood up above her waist, another curled +astern, and the hollow squaresail swelled like a balloon. Although the +sea was smooth, water foamed on board and spray swept the deck in savage +showers. The men crouched behind the bulwarks and when Marston went aft +he got an exhilarating sense of speed. + +"Do you want help?" he asked. "Can you hold her?" + +"I think I can," said Wyndham, with an exultant note in his voice. "We +have sailed some hard races, Bob, but none for a stake like this. If the +masts will stand, she must go to-night!" + +Marston nodded. "Looks as if we ought to win! I imagine the tug is not +in harbor and Don Ramon is comfortably persuaded we're asleep at the +mission. When he finds we're not, we'll be a long way off. I don't +suppose they can march the troops to the port and embark them before +it's dark." He paused and laughed when he resumed: "His promise to send +the port-captain orders to let us go if we told him when we wanted to +sail was clever. He knew, of course, we couldn't do so." + +He sat down on a coil of rope and lighted his pipe. Now the long strain +was over, a reaction had begun. His head was heavy; he felt very tired +and limp. Showers of spray blew about and when he began to get wet he +thought he would go to the cabin and study the chart. It was plain that +they could not leave the schooner at the lagoon; besides a little mental +exercise might rouse him. + +When he lighted the lamp he found he could not see the small figures on +the chart. His eyes and brain were dull, for two nights and a day of +effort and suspense had worn him out. The coast-line, however, was +clearly marked and indicated a number of bays and inlets. So far as +Marston could remember, they were bordered by mangrove swamps with dark +forest behind. Looking up at the compass, which was fixed in the +skylight and allowed the glow of the binnacle lamp to shine through, he +tried to calculate where Wyndham was steering. He could not fix the +course within two or three points and presently gave it up. Then his +head dropped forward, the chart fell on the floor, and sinking down on +the locker cushion, he fell asleep. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE BAT OWNS DEFEAT + + +At daybreak Wyndham entered the cabin and wakened Marston. The latter +yawned, stretched his arms, and glanced at the compass. + +"It's getting light. I expect I've been asleep," he said. "Where are we +heading?" + +Wyndham picked up the chart and indicated a spot. "This bay. She has +made a good run, although the wind has nearly gone." + +"You know where to find the Bat, I think?" + +"I have a notion," Wyndham replied, indicating another spot some +distance from the coast. "But come up on deck. The sun will soon rise +and I must try to get our bearings." + +Marston went up. The wind had dropped and was now very faint. +_Columbine_, carrying all the sail they could set, scarcely crept across +the smoothly heaving sea. Ahead, a bank of mist hid the low coast; +farther back, vague mountain tops rose against the pale sky. In places, +rippling streaks lined the gray water. The picture had a strangely flat +and lifeless touch that reacted on Marston. He felt dull, and shivered, +although it was not cold. Turning to the galley, he saw a plume of smoke +trail from the bent funnel. + +"I'll get some coffee and then we'll talk," he said. + +Coming back in a few minutes with a jug, he sat down on the +stern-gratings. + +"To begin with, can you hide the boat?" he asked. + +"Not properly. There are one or two creeks, but they'd, so to speak, +invite examination. On the whole, I'd sooner trust an open beach. +_Columbine_'s low hull and masts won't be very distinct against a +background of forest. I'm steering for an anchorage behind some shoals." + +Marston signed agreement. "Larrinaga can't keep the tug searching the +coast; he'll send her back for supplies. I expect he knows how to reach +the Bat." + +"It's possible. He has spies and the German Colonel has, no doubt, made +careful plans. There are two routes; east and west of the high ground, +and I reckon he'll send the _cazadores_ up in two columns. The first +will probably try to get behind the Bat's position." + +"Then, we'll strike one column's line of march," said Marston, +thoughtfully. "In fact, since we must come back, we'll strike it twice." + +"Yes. I see some advantage in this. Our taking their path won't matter +when we go up, because we'll be in front, and we agreed that the time of +our arrival is important. We must give the Bat just long enough to reach +the coast before the soldiers turn back and cut us off. I expect it will +mean our pushing across the hills for some distance. When we cross their +line we'll be in front again." + +Marston signified his agreement by a nod. It was plain that they must +leave much to luck, and lighting his pipe, he leaned against the rail. +As the sun rose the mist ahead began to melt. Wooded heights rose out of +the streaming vapor and presently Wyndham found the marks he wanted and +went off to sleep while Marston kept his anxious watch. It was now +nearly calm. Sometimes a puff of wind ruffled the water; sometimes the +sails hung slack and the ripple at the bows died away. The sun got hot, +the smooth swell shimmered with reflected light, and nothing indicated +when the sea-breeze would begin. + +The calm, however, would not stop the tug, and Marston pictured her +steaming up from San Cristobal with engines thumping hard and the empty +lighters astern. News of _Columbine_'s departure had, no doubt, reached +the mission; bugles would be calling and the _cazadores_ strapping on +their equipment ready to start. Still it was a long march to the harbor +and Marston hardly thought the troops would embark before nightfall. If +wind would come, Wyndham might keep in front of them, but in the +meantime _Columbine_ hardly moved. Marston wondered whether they ought +to hoist out the gig and tow, although the labor would be exhausting and +they could not make much progress. + +A dark streak broke the glittering surface, a cool draught touched +Marston's face, and the slack sails swelled. _Columbine_ began to move, +and presently gathering speed, listed over to the fresh sea-breeze. + +After an hour or two, he wakened Wyndham, who got another bearing and +changed the course. At dusk they steered for the coast and towards +morning anchored behind a shoal. There was nothing but the background to +hide the vessel and Marston knew the risk when they landed with four of +the crew. In the steamy heat of the forest, exertion soon wears a white +man out, and the negroes were needed to carry food and some shelter from +the dew at night. + +After dark on the second evening, they reached the Bat's headquarters, +in the company of a gang of savage negroes. They were exhausted by the +journey, their clothes were torn, and they did not know if the negroes +were their captors or their guides. So far as one could see, the village +looked mean. A few small mud huts stood among mahogany trees and big +cottonwoods. There was no light in the huts, but a fire burned outside +one, and although the night was warm, indistinct figures crouched about +the blaze. They vanished and appeared again when the light leaped up, +and Marston remembered the factory boys squatting round the fires in +Africa. But the Kroo laborers sang, and these fellows were strangely +silent. In fact, a daunting quietness brooded over the spot. + +The Bat's hut was larger than the rest and a rude veranda occupied the +front. There was no furniture except some mats and stools, and a +badly-cleaned paraffin lamp gave a dim light. The Bat sat on a carved +stool and wore a striped tennis jacket over his dirty white clothes. His +legs and feet were bare; his lips stuck out and his nostrils were wide, +and Marston felt that to fear and shrink from him was ridiculous. Yet he +did shrink. Then he noted with some surprise that Father Sebastian +occupied a mat in the corner. Next moment the Bat looked up with a +mocking grin. + +"Why you lib for my village? It d---- poor place," he said. + +"We'll explain that later," Wyndham replied. "In the meantime, why is +Father Sebastian here?" + +"I take care of him," said the Bat. "Fool black man rob his church." He +paused and added with a cruel smile: "Them fool man pay." + +Wyndham turned to the priest. "Will you give us a few minutes, _padre_? +We will send for you soon." + +Father Sebastian got up and the Bat nodded, as if he gave him leave to +go. He went out and Wyndham sat down on a mat. + +"Now," he said, "suppose you drop this negro mummery and talk like an +Englishman. I want to remember you are Rupert Wyndham. No doubt you +meant to keep the missionary for a hostage, but it's not important. I +imagine you did not expect to see us?" + +Rupert's face changed. Something of its coarseness vanished, his lips +straightened, and he looked less like a mulatto. + +"I did expect you. Anyhow, I heard white men were coming, although I +could only account for one," he said and added with an ominous smile: "I +sent to meet you because I did not want you to lose your way." + +Marston knew that in Africa the negroes can signal news across the bush +with remarkable speed. It looked as if Rupert had learned how this was +done and taught his people. + +"Whom did you expect?" he asked. + +"Peters. He is a fool, but he has pluck. Some pluck is needed when one +tries to blackmail me!" + +"I imagine Peters will come later, but not to bargain with you," Marston +said dryly. "We have some grounds for believing he means to sell you to +the Government." + +Rupert's glance got very keen. "Ah," he said, "this is interesting! +Perhaps it explains your visit, which rather puzzled me." + +"Before long you will get some fresh news," Wyndham interposed. +"Larrinaga and the German colonel, with two or three companies of +_cazadores_, have landed and are marching for your village." + +For a few moments Rupert did not move and his face was inscrutable. Then +he looked up and the red veins in his eyes were very plain. + +"Is this true? You will find it dangerous to cheat me!" + +Wyndham told him what they had found out and stated the conclusions they +had drawn. When he stopped Rupert nodded. + +"It looks plausible; you are cleverer than my spies, but we will wait. +If the soldiers have landed, I will soon know." + +"You may wait too long!" + +"If there's a risk, you share it," said Rupert meaningly. "You were rash +when you came to see me without being asked. However, the entrance of +the lagoon is shallow and the surf is often bad. Can Larrinaga find the +channel?" + +"Pepe, the pilot, is with him. I expect he'll steer the tug." + +"Ah!" said Rupert. "I rather trusted Pepe, but he has been bribed. Well, +it is possible he will get his reward. However, I imagine you have made +some plans for me." + +Wyndham braced himself. Although luck had given him strong arguments, +Rupert was bold and cunning. Since his situation looked desperate, he +might try some desperate remedy that would ruin them all. He must be +persuaded to use the obvious way of escape. + +"You can't fight; it's too late," he said. "If you start now and we +push across the hills between the two columns, we may cross one +detachment's line after they have passed. When they find out you have +gone, we will have got a start and ought to travel faster than loaded +soldiers. The schooner is ready and would sail in a few minutes after we +got on board. I don't see another plan, and if you're caught Larrinaga +will shoot you. His men are well equipped and drilled. He has been +getting ready for some time." + +Rupert pondered for a minute or two, and the others waited anxiously. +Then he said, "If I go, I leave people who trusted me in Larrinaga's +power. It is not a very heroic exit." + +"Does this count for much?" + +"On the whole, it does not," said Rupert coolly. "After all, my +followers can take care of themselves. They are an elusive lot and Don +Ramon would soon wear out his troops hunting them in the bush. All the +same, to slink away is something of an anti-climax." + +"We didn't run a big risk in order to help you save your dignity," +Wyndham rejoined, and Rupert gave him a mocking smile. + +"Your object's plain and I owe you nothing. You hope to mend the +family's fortunes, and see an awkward chance of its getting known that a +leader of negro rebels is your relation. However, what do you reckon to +do with me if I go? You proposed, another time, that I should return to +England." + +"We don't propose it now. We'll land you at an American port and I will +try to pay you a small allowance so long as you stay in the United +States. The South might suit you and one could trust the Americans to +see you didn't make trouble there." + +"For guests, you take a bold line. It's rather strange you imagine I'm +forced to agree. You don't seem to understand that there's not much to +prevent my leaving you here and going off with your yacht." + +"We thought about this," Wyndham replied. "If we don't return by a +stipulated time, _Columbine_ will sail and carry a statement I left with +the mate to the British officers at Kingston, Jamaica. The cable is +ready for slipping, the sails are loose, and if strangers try to board +her, the boat will go to sea." + +"One must approve your caution," said Rupert dryly. "Well, I think my +plans were good, and but for two things they might have been carried +out. Our robbing Father Sebastian's church forced Larrinaga to move, but +I was not responsible for this. The other's more important and the +mistake was mine." He turned to Marston as he went on: "When you were +ill with fever I ought to have poisoned you. Instead I tried a cure +civilized doctors would hesitate to use." + +"Ah!" said Marston, "you saved my life?" + +"I don't want thanks. To some extent, I thought it policy. It did not +seem worth while to bother about your antagonism then. Afterwards, when +we tried to drown you, we were too late. You had persuaded your partner; +your work was done. If you had not meddled, I'd have led him where I +wanted." + +"I think that is so, Bob. I owe you much," Wyndham interposed. + +"If Harry had brought me the supplies I needed, I could have fought the +President's troops," Rupert resumed, fixing his bloodshot eyes on +Marston. "Well, you spoiled the plot, and if I'm beaten now, it is not +Larrinaga but you who wins. You ought to be flattered. For such a man +as you are, it's a remarkable victory!" + +There was something sinister in his sneering voice and Wyndham said +sharply, "It will be prudent for you to see Bob does not fall ill again. +If I meet with any misfortune, he will make you accountable." + +Rupert shrugged. "We will let it go and wait until news about the +soldiers arrives. In the meantime, I have some preparations to make. You +can sleep until I come back. Nobody will disturb you." + +"I have a pistol, but don't expect to use it," Wyndham replied. "Your +need of our help is our best protection, and so long as the need is +obvious I think we are pretty safe." + +When Rupert went out they lay down on the mats. Although they were near +physical exhaustion, it was impossible to sleep. The tension they had +borne had not relaxed, because until the news of the soldiers' advance +was signalled the situation was not free from danger. The tug might +strand among the shoals, a strong breeze and breaking surf might stop +her entering the lagoon to land the troops, and delay would give Rupert +time to form fresh plans. Marston did not trust him yet. If Rupert could +escape without their help, he would not leave them at liberty to meddle +again. + +They heard nothing from outside and the hut was very quiet. The silence +began to wear Marston's nerve. He could not wait much longer, but it +might be rash to go out, and he forced himself to smoke, although the +tobacco burned his tongue and his mouth was parched. It looked as if +Rupert were not coming back. Perhaps he had cheated them and gone off +alone. Marston pictured his malicious grin as he stole off through the +bush and left them to wait for Larrinaga. + +At length, however, Rupert returned to the hut. "I have got news," he +said coolly. "Your boys are ready and we will start. Father Sebastian is +an embarrassment; you will see that we cannot leave him behind." + +"Send for him," said Wyndham. "You had better understand that I'm +accountable for his safety." + +Father Sebastian came in, and Wyndham asked if he would promise to say +nothing about their visit and departure with the Bat. + +"No," said Father Sebastian, "I will not promise. I do not know what is +happening, but it looks as if the punishment this man deserves were +overtaking him. I will not help him to escape." + +"You are in his power yet," Wyndham remarked. + +Father Sebastian smiled. "I am an old man and my work in the dreary +swamps is hard. My life is not worth much; there are things I value +more." + +"I was wrong," said Wyndham quietly. "However, since you refuse, we must +take you with us as far as the coast. It would help if you promised not +to run away." + +"I will run away, if it is possible. This man is bad and cruel; I think +he killed your agent, and now he is stealing off, the soldiers must be +coming. I will warn them if I can." + +"After all, is this your business? You are a missionary," Wyndham urged. + +"I am the Church's servant and a citizen of the country the Bat defies. +Perhaps its rule is corrupt, but it is better than his. Its citizens +are Christians and follow the light, although their steps are sometimes +weak; these others would plunge the land in the dark of superstitious +horror. I know, I have long watched the shadow deepen." + +"You are a loyal servant," Wyndham replied. "I am afraid you must come +with us, but we will try to make your journey easy." + +"White man fool man! Black man fix them thing different," Rupert +remarked with his cruel grin. Then he indicated Marston and added in +good English: "This fellow is certainly a fool, but his boyish scruples +have beaten my cleverest schemes." + +He signed them to go out. The Krooboys from the schooner were waiting, +and in a few minutes the party plunged into the woods. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE BAT'S EXIT + + +_Columbine_ rolled heavily on the broken swell and the lamp that swung +from a beam threw a puzzling light about the cabin. Now and then water +splashed on the deck and the slack sails flapped. The fresh breeze had +dropped, although the sea had not yet gone down, and Marston had set the +topsail and the balloon jib. The light canvas would chafe and was not of +much use, but he must reach Kingston as soon as possible. He was +exhausted by physical effort and anxious watching, and when Rupert +replaced the bandage on his comrade's face he leaned back slackly on the +locker seat. + +Wyndham lay in an upper berth, in the faint draught that came down +through the open skylight. A wet cloth covered his face and the cabin +smelt of drugs. He did not move and had not been altogether conscious +for some time. Rupert wore Harry's white clothes and looked, in the +unsteady light, like a rather haggard and jaundiced Englishman. Marston +had noted his firm touch when he fixed the bandage and now he was +methodically putting back some bottles in the medicine chest. When he +finished he bent over the berth for a moment, as if he listened to +Wyndham's breathing. + +"I think he will live," he said. "Although he is very weak, we have got +the fever down, and the wound is not as septic as it was. Anyhow, you +must get him into hospital at Kingston soon." + +Marston remembered afterwards that Rupert had said _you_, not we, and +thought it significant. Now, however, he was dully pondering something +else. + +"If you had not been on board, Harry would not have lived," he said. + +"You're puzzled about my saving him?" Rupert rejoined. "Well, I don't +owe Harry much and I owe you less. On the whole, I hardly think our +relationship accounts for my efforts. A bold experiment is interesting +when somebody else is the subject, and one rather enjoys using one's +skill." + +Since there were only one or two very simple surgical instruments in the +medicine chest, Marston thought Rupert's skill was remarkable. He had +envied him his firm hand and nerve when he cut out the bullet that had +pierced Harry's cheek and jaw and lodged in his neck. As he remembered +the operation, in which he had been forced to help, Marston shuddered. +After a few moments Rupert looked up. + +"You need fresh air. Go and see how she steers. Harry will sleep, but if +it's necessary I will watch." + +Marston went on deck. It was a little cooler and the touch of the dew on +his face was soothing. He put on an oilskin and sat down by the wheel. +The night was clear and the tops of the broken swell shone with +phosphorescence. _Columbine_ rolled about, shaking her masts and booms +with savage jerks. Blocks rattled and now and then the canvas banged. +Yet she forged ahead and kept her course. + +By-and-by Marston lighted his pipe and tried to fix the elusive pictures +of their journey to the coast. To begin with, the night they left the +hut Wyndham owned he had a dose of fever. In the morning he was worse, +but time was valuable and they pushed on. Then, at evening when they +came down from the hills to cut the soldiers' line of march, they saw +two or three _peons_ run out from a ruined village and plunge into the +bush. Another, who was slower and was caught, stated that they had been +left behind to wait until some more troops came up. The village was +empty, but the _peon_ took the party to a hut he had been ordered to +watch. It was getting dark and when they went in Marston struck a match. +Next moment he let it drop, for a white man lay on the floor and +something strange about his attitude indicated that he was dead. Then +Rupert picked up the burning match and lighted a lantern. + +Marston shuddered as his memory recaptured the scene the dim +illumination touched. The dead man had drawn up his legs and his face +was distorted, but Marston did not want to remember this. It was Peters' +face, and he knew the fellow had not met a peaceful death. Father +Sebastian knelt down by the body; Rupert stooped and smiled. + +"You cannot help him and I do not think you will find a mark. I doubt if +he belonged to any flock, but it was not to yours. Anyhow, he is dead, +and you need not bother about how he died." + +"Yet you know," said Father Sebastian, fixing him with steady eyes. + +Rupert nodded. "He meant to sell me, and it is possible he got his +reward, although he did not enjoy it long. One could philosophize about +it, but I leave this to you. Well, I think we will not wait until his +friends arrive." + +"I will wait," said Father Sebastian, firmly. "It is a duty to bury the +dead." + +Rupert shrugged and looked at Marston. Wyndham, shivering with ague, had +sat down and rested his head in his hands, as if he did not know what +was going on. + +"Watching the _padre_ did not run off has cost us some time," Rupert +remarked. "However, it would be awkward if he sent the next detachment +of _cazadores_ after us. I expect he knows how I would meet the +difficulty." + +"We will leave you and not bother you for a promise," Marston said to +Father Sebastian, who gave him his hand. + +"There is much that puzzles me and I do not know why you help this bad +man to escape, but I feel you are honest," he said. "Sometimes one must +trust without understanding." He lifted his hand solemnly. "_Vaya con +Dios!_" + +Then they went out and left him in the dark with Peters. + +Marston did not know if Father Sebastian sent the soldiers after them, +but although he thought he did he bore him no grudge. The man was +staunch, and from his point of view, was justified. In the morning, +Rupert declared they must push on faster, and their march became a race +for the coast. Now Marston could think about it coolly, he imagined +Rupert feared some of the negroes had joined Larrinaga and were +signalling news of the party's flight. Wyndham stumbled as they forced +their way savagely in scorching heat across reedy swamps and through +tangled bush, but he would not be carried and this would have delayed +them dangerously. Marston recaptured with strange vividness the last +scene. + +It was dark when they broke out of the forest and saw the sea sparkle +under a half-moon. The land-breeze blew fresh, and now and then belts of +warm mist trailed across the beach. There were no mangroves, the beach +was flat and open, but they were some distance off the spot where the +schooner lay and they labored across the soft sand. Marston owned that +the suspense had shaken his nerve. He was desperately anxious to get on +board before he was stopped, but Wyndham could hardly walk. For +half-an-hour Marston dragged him along. + +When they were nearly level with the schooner, indistinct figures ran +out from the bush. Wyndham turned, and shaking off Marston, drew his +pistol. He fired two or three shots, but since the distance was long +Marston thought he rather expected to warn the crew than stop their +pursuers. The latter did not stop and Marston dragged Wyndham on again. +A boat was coming, but he doubted if they could reach it before the +others arrived. The sand was soft, he was exhausted, and Wyndham lurched +about. Sometimes he nearly pulled Marston down. + +Shots were fired behind them and bullets hummed overhead. The negroes +were running hard close in front, and the boat plunged into the belt of +surf. Then Wyndham fell and pulled Marston over. When he fell Marston +got some sand in his eyes and could hardly see. Somebody seized his arm +and dragged him to his feet; men were splashing in the foam about the +boat. He stuck to Harry but did not know how they got on board. Then he +felt the boat plunge and saw the half-naked Kroos were pulling for +their lives. Wyndham leaned against him and Marston felt his jacket +getting wet; he afterwards found that it was wet by blood. He put Harry +down in the stern-sheets and seized the nearest Krooboy's oar, thrusting +while the other pulled. + +When they got on board the schooner the sails were going up and nobody +else was hit. Marston and Rupert carried Wyndham to the cabin and +Marston remembered his horror when they put him in his berth. A glancing +bullet, turning over endways, had mangled the lower part of his face. + +This, however, was some days since and Marston was getting over the +shock. Rupert had told him Harry would live, although he would always +wear the scar. + +By-and-by Marston got up and walked about the deck. He dared not think +about Flora yet; he must navigate _Columbine_ to Kingston and get +Wyndham into hospital. There was a little more wind now and the damp +sails did not shake, but the rolling and lurching stopped the schooner. +Although it was important to make Kingston soon, one could do nothing to +help their progress and Marston presently returned to the wheel. He +waited for a time, because he did not want to talk to Rupert. His +shrinking from the fellow had not lessened, but he was very tired and +limp, and at length he went down and got into his bunk. + +In the morning the breeze was fresh and _Columbine_ threw the spray +about as she plunged across the white combers. At noon, Marston got his +sextant to take the sun and sat for some minutes on the skylight +calculating the schooner's position. Then he looked up and saw Rupert. + +"I think the wind will hold," said the latter. "When do you expect to +arrive?" + +Marston told him and added: "You are not on the crew list and since +Kingston's a British port we will have to comply with the usual +formalities. We must think of a way of accounting for your being on +board." He paused and added with a touch of embarrassment: "It may be +some time before the doctors let me take Harry home and I don't +know----" + +"You don't know what to do about me?" Rupert suggested with the smile +Marston disliked. "Well, suppose you wait until you get there. I imagine +I won't bother you much. In the meantime, you haven't hauled your +patent-log. Let's see what distance it marks." + +_Columbine_'s log was old-fashioned. In order to read the dial it was +necessary to bring the torpedo-shaped instrument on board, and Rupert, +jumping on a grating, put his foot on the low taffrail as he began to +haul the line. The line was long, the log, with its spiral vanes, +offered some resistance, and Marston, knowing it would be a minute or +two before Rupert lifted it out of the water, studied the compass. +Looking round, he saw the other's bent figure outlined against the +foaming wake; and then he glanced ahead. The wind was fresh and +_Columbine_ sailed fast. White combers rolled up to windward and as she +plunged across their tops she threw up clouds of spray. + +In about a minute, Marston looked aft again and braced himself as he +gazed at the slanted rail. He had heard no splash or cry, but Rupert had +gone. He shouted, and signed to the Kroo steersman, who pulled round the +wheel. _Columbine_ shipped some water as, with sails flapping and +banging, she came head to wind. The long booms jerked, blocks and ropes +whipped to and fro, and the crew began to run about the deck. One or two +hauled down the foresail, one or two trimmed the jibs aback, and Marston +helped the others at the Burton tackle to hoist out the gig. + +He jumped on board as she took the water. Four excited negroes leaped +down from the schooner's bulwarks, and a white sea washed across the +bows as they shoved her off. They got away without damage, and pulled +obliquely to leeward while Marston tried to calculate how far +_Columbine_ had gone since he last saw Rupert. It was necessary to be +accurate, because, except when the combers picked up the boat, he could +see nothing but the white tops of the waves. Besides, rowing on an angry +sea is hard and the men would soon get exhausted. Since they could not +search long, he must reach the proper spot. + +No floating object tossed among the foam, and after half an hour he gave +it up. Rupert Wyndham had gone; he was old, and a good swimmer could not +have lived long in such a sea, because a man, buffeted by breaking +waves, may drown before he sinks. The boat had shipped much water, the +crew were worn out, and had some trouble to row back to _Columbine_. +When they had hoisted in the gig and put the schooner on her course, +Marston went to the cabin and mixed a drink. He was wet, his hands +shook, and his arms ached, for he had been forced to use his strength +while he labored with the big sculling oar. + +Moreover, he was strangely disturbed. He had shrunk from Rupert Wyndham +with half-instinctive repulsion. In one sense, Rupert's drowning would +relieve him and Wyndham from an awkward responsibility. Marston +admitted that he had recognized this, although he hoped he had not +allowed it to influence him. Indeed, because he did not like Rupert, he +had made sterner efforts to reach the spot where he had gone overboard; +but he wondered whether he had perhaps afterwards neglected means he +might have used had the man been his friend. On the whole, he did not +think so, and his tormenting doubts began to vanish. For all that, he +was glad Wyndham was asleep. + +When, some hours later, Marston went back to the cabin Wyndham's eyes +were open. The lower part of his face was covered by the bandage and he +could not talk, but Marston thought he missed Rupert and was curious. +Although Harry was very weak, Marston felt he had better tell him now. +If he did not, his unsatisfied curiosity might keep him restless and +bring the fever back. + +"I know what you want to ask," he said quietly. "Rupert's not here. He +fell overboard when he was hauling up the log." + +Wyndham's eyelids flickered and his hand moved under the blanket, but +this was the only sign he gave. + +"She was rolling," Marston went on. "He stood with his foot on the +taffrail, leaning out to gather in the line. You see, there was nothing +to save him if he lost his balance----" + +He stopped, for he saw Wyndham was looking at him very hard. Then he +resumed: "I think he did lose his balance, but I don't know. I was +looking forward, wondering whether we ought to haul down a reef, and +none of the boys saw him fall. There was not a splash." + +A feeble movement of Wyndham's head urged him to go on. + +"We got the gig over soon, but the boat had been going fast and +head-reached some distance when we brought her round. Then there was a +confused sea." + +Marston saw Wyndham understood; he need not labor his explanation, but +he wished Harry could talk. There was an assurance he wanted his comrade +to give; Harry knew how he had felt about Rupert. + +"I think I did my best," he said awkwardly. "She nearly capsized once or +twice; the sea was hollow and curled before you expected. The water on +board was getting deep, and we couldn't bale." + +A very faint smile flickered in Wyndham's eyes and Marston was conscious +of keen relief. Harry had understood his embarrassment and was +satisfied. To hint at regret would be useless cant; there was nothing +more to be said. For all that, Marston was glad when a Krooboy called +him on deck. It was blowing fresher and he gave some orders and occupied +himself by shortening sail. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FRESH START + + +Dusk had fallen and rows of lights twinkled along the walls at the +river-mouth. Tall chimneys and warehouses rose against the sky, there +was a biting wind, and Marston shivered at the door of the liner's +smoking-room. Her engines throbbed slackly as she steamed in with the +tide, past the dark shapes of anchored vessels. A mile or two ahead, +bright streaks, in which the separate lights were merged, marked the +landing stages, and Marston looked for the red, white, and green +triangle that would indicate the company's tug. For his comrade's sake, +he was illogically relieved because he could not see her yet, although +the moment he dreaded could not be put off long. + +After a time, he went back into the smoking room. Wyndham, wearing a +heavy coat, lounged on a settee. He was very thin and his face was +haggard, but this was not all. His mouth was distorted, for one side +drooped, giving him a strange look of vacant amusement. The contrast +between this and the melancholy in his eyes was rather horrible. Marston +was getting used to the disfigurement, but he had seen that strangers +were jarred. Besides, Wyndham would never again articulate clearly. His +talk was slow and awkward, and the Kingston doctor doubted if he would +altogether get back his strength. + +"Ten minutes yet; I don't see the tug," said Marston. "Shall I help you +out on deck when she comes?" + +Wyndham smiled and answered with the deliberation he was forced to use: +"There wouldn't be much use in that, Bob. I heard them fixing the big +gangway lights." + +Marston knew he was thinking about Flora and the shock she must get. It +was going to be hard for Flora; in fact, it was hard for both. + +"She knows," he said quietly. "I was frank with Mabel and told her all +before the doctor would let you write." + +"Thanks! Flora has pluck, but the pluck that hides a hurt does not cure +it." + +"It goes some way," said Marston. "When Flora sees you, I don't think +she will see the scar." + +Then one or two of the passengers came in, and they waited until the +engines stopped and they heard the tug's paddles. Wyndham got on his +feet awkwardly and waved back Marston, who had meant to give him his +arm. His face was very pinched, but his eyes were bright, and as they +went out he forced a smile. + +A big electric lamp hung from the spar-deck and threw down a searching +light. The tug's gangway was run out and people began to come on board. +Marston saw Mabel and his heart beat with mixed emotions as he noted her +black dress, for a cablegram had told him Mrs. Hilliard was dead. He was +unselfishly sorry for Mabel, but she had met the last claim of duty and +he had waited long. + +Then Flora stepped down from the gangway and went straight across the +deck to Wyndham, who stood under the lamp. The strong light touched +their faces and Marston imagined the corners of Flora's mouth twitched. +This was all; her step was swift and eager and her eyes shone with +tender welcome. She was very brave. Marston saw no pity in her look; +there was nothing but gladness and love. + +"My dear!" she cried, and Wyndham took her in his feeble arms. + +A few moments afterwards Mabel gave Marston her hand and when he had +gazed at her his glance rested on her black dress. + +"I'm sorry. Very sorry; I think you understand!" + +"I know, Bob," said Mabel. "You thought about me; you don't think much +about yourself. But I must speak to Harry." + +She left him and he was filled with tenderness and pride as he watched +her greet Wyndham. Her smile was frank and her voice was sympathetic, +but one got no hint of pity that might jar a sensitive nerve. Mabel +struck the right note, and Marston knew it was not all good-breeding +that guided her. He loved her for the human kindness she gave his +comrade. + +When they went down the gangway Wyndham was forced to lean on Marston's +arm. A car was waiting at the floating bridge that led to the pier-head +and Marston helped Wyndham in. + +"I'll go to the office early and report to you in the evening," he said. +"You must take things easy and not bother at all." + +Flora and Chisholm got in and when they drove off Marston took Mabel's +hand. + +"If you don't mind, we'll walk to the top. I want to look about and +realize I'm at home. I feel like a boy who has just come back from his +first term at school." + +"Was it very hard, Bob?" Mabel asked, sympathetically. + +Marston smiled. "It was foreign, if you understand, and that was worse. +Plots, gloom, sickness, and mystery that made you savage because you +didn't know if you were being cleverly cheated or not. Sometimes I half +believed the Bat was a magician. In fact, it was all from which a sober +fellow revolts." + +"Yet you were strong enough to carry out the job you hated. That is +much, Bob." + +Marston looked down the river. Long rows of lights pricked out the dock +walls that narrowed to a dark gap in the distance. Low constellations +marked the ferry landing stages, and in the stream other lights, colored +green and red, moved swiftly up and down. In the background were misty +towers and spires. Whistles shrieked and one heard the splash of paddles +and the throb of propellers, for the commerce of two cities floated up +on the tide. Bob's imagination was sometimes dull, but the river noises +moved him then. He got a hint of ordered effort and useful activity. +Sober men brought home the ships and controlled the trade that extended +across the world. Perhaps, if one looked for it with understanding, +there was a romance about this far-spread trade, but of one kind of +romance Bob had had enough. + +"We will go to the car," he said presently, with quiet happiness. "I've +got back and you are with me. I have all I want. Coming up channel, my +satisfaction was half spoiled; the trouble waiting Flora haunted me. +Then, to some extent, I felt I hadn't justified her trust. I'd promised +to see Harry out, and I brought him home like that." + +"If you had not been very staunch, he might not have come home at all. +But will he always be disfigured?" + +"The mark of the bullet won't wear off and he will never talk easily. +For the rest, the Kingston doctor wasn't very encouraging. He said Harry +had obviously borne a crushing strain for long, and now it had broken +him, we mustn't look for a quick recovery. Still he was young and proper +treatment in England would help. Well, his meeting Flora is over and +I've got rid of a load." + +"You ought not to have been afraid for Flora." + +"I see this now; she was wonderful," Marston agreed. "Human nature's +rather mixed and some is pretty base metal, but you feel that Flora's +almost without alloy." + +Mabel smiled. "I like you when you're romantic, Bob; but even then +you're cautious." + +"Oh, well," said Marston. "After all, I only know one girl who is pure +gold." + +"Now you're quite extravagant, but you're very nice indeed," Mabel +replied, and their car rolled up. + +Next evening Mabel went with Bob to Wyndham's small house. Wyndham, +looking pale and jaded, occupied an easy chair by the fire and Mabel +ordered him not to get up. + +"I have been to the office and all is going well," Marston remarked. +"Next week you can come down for perhaps an hour a day. We won't need +you longer and I mean to be firm. Nevis tells me he won't stay. I +imagine he doesn't approve my methods, but I'd rather expected this and +think I've got a better man." + +"If you're satisfied----" said Wyndham, smiling. "Since Nevis began at +the office, I suppose you feel he belongs to the old state of things." + +Marston looked half embarrassed, but nodded. "I did feel something like +that. A new man is better when you make a fresh start on another line. +However, I'm not going to bother about business; I've told you enough to +put your mind at rest. There's something much more important, Mabel has +agreed to marry me next month." + +Flora kissed Mabel and for a time they engaged in happy talk. Then +Marston got up. + +"We are going to the drawing-room. It's a long time since I heard good +music and Mabel said she'd play." + +"I didn't know you liked music much, Bob," Flora remarked. + +"All the same, I do like it," Marston rejoined. "It's true I've been to +concerts that bored me; but all music's charming when Mabel plays." + +Flora let them go and then looked at Wyndham. "A wedding present's the +next thing, Harry, and it will need some thought. What can we give +them, who have given us so much?" + +Wyndham smiled. "I imagine Bob would be content with our gratitude, +although he'd feel badly embarrassed if you made it too plain." His +smile, however vanished as he resumed: "Anyhow, I shall never wipe out +my debt. There are not many like Bob." + +He mused for a few moments and went on: "I remember his telling me +Rupert was drowned. My face was bandaged; I couldn't speak and was too +weak to move. Bob could only see my eyes, and as he watched them I knew +what he thought. Because he had hated Rupert from the beginning, he was +desperately anxious to persuade me he had done his best. The thing was, +of course, ridiculous. Bob being the man he is, one could not doubt him. +It was unthinkable to imagine he had not used every effort, although the +sea was rough and he risked a capsize. The boat was half swamped when he +brought her back. Yet I imagine he was more disturbed than me." + +"I think Bob did not see him fall overboard?" + +"No," said Wyndham. "Rupert may have lost his balance, but I doubt. We +were not far from Kingston and when we got there he must, so to speak, +resume a white man's responsibilities and begin life again. He had lived +like a savage, commanding fear and using power that few civilized rulers +know; but all that had gone and he was proud." + +"But you were disturbed when Bob told you," Flora urged. + +"At first, I was conscious of relief. I thought Rupert had seen the only +way out of the tangle. Before he went, I'd begun to feel the situation +was impossible for us all. Afterwards, I saw that my greedy ambition +had helped to involve us and he had borne the punishment. Had he not +thought he could get supplies from me, he would not have plotted the +rebellion." + +Flora hesitated for a moment, and then said, "When Bob came in the +morning to ask if you had slept, I kept him a few minutes and we talked +about this. He declared your engaging to supply the goods was not +important, because if you had refused, Rupert could have got all he +needed from Peters or somebody else, so long as he was willing to give a +high price." + +"It's possible. After all, Bob is cleverer than people sometimes think, +and I see an explanation for Peters' vindictive pursuit: I'd stopped his +trading with Rupert and refused him for a partner. Well, he paid, and +Rupert paid, and I owe my escape to Bob." + +"You made reparation," said Flora gently. + +"I tried; when I was found out. It was rather late then, and Bob carried +much of the load. But I did not get off free. I spent days of torment, +thinking about what you must bear, before I resigned myself to coming +home, broken in body, to be a burden to you." + +Flora's eyes shone. "Oh, my dear! You have come home and that's all that +matters. Besides, you'll get well in England; your strength will +return." + +"It may be long," said Wyndham quietly. "I cannot grumble for myself; +I'm thinking about Bob. It looks as if he must carry my load and his, +but he won't growl. He's strong and his pluck's unbreakable. Pluck and +honesty like Bob's are worth more than talent." + +He paused, and smiled when he resumed: "Well, while I try not to lose +patience, waiting, and wondering whether I'll be fit to work again, +he'll build a new Wyndhams' on a surer foundation than I could have +laid. I can see him, stopping now and then with his puzzled look, but +not stopping long. Bob's way is to go on, straight and steadfastly." + +"We owe him much," said Flora. "Your debt is mine." + +Then there were steps in the passage and the others came in. Mabel +blushed when she saw Flora's smile. + +"After all, it looks as if music did bore Bob," Flora remarked. "We +didn't hear you playing long." + +"We talked," said Mabel, with a frank glance. "There was much to talk +about and all was rather wonderful. Perhaps this looks extravagant, but +I don't think it is." + +"Hold fast to your persuasion," said Flora gently. "It will take you +far. Love conquers many doubts and troubles." + +"Mabel's troubles ought not to be numerous," Wyndham interposed. "She is +going to marry my partner; the best man I know." + +Marston's face got red, but Mabel laughed, a soft, happy laugh. + +"I really think Bob stands alone," she said. "He's like nobody else and +I'm sure there's nobody like him." + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the +original edition have been corrected. + +In Part I, Chapter VIII, "They are _bete_, the _Mestizos_" was changed +to "They are _bete_, the _Mestizos_". + +In Part I, Chapter IX, a period was changed to a comma after "if the +goods are his or the other's". + +In Part I, Chapter X, a period was changed to a comma after "let your +imagination carry you away". + +In Part I, Chapter XI, periods were changed to commas after "satisfied +in one way" and "Harry's business standing". + +In Part II, Chapter I, a period was changed to a comma after "your next +balance sheet won't be good". + +In Part II, Chapter IV, "he had a invested a good sum" was changed to +"he had invested a good sum", and a missing quotation mark was added +after "started inland from the Salinas coast of the Caribbean." + +In Part III, Chapter II, "Dark came quicky at the lagoon" was changed to +"Dark came quickly at the lagoon". + +In Part III, Chapter III, "You sent for me. don't know if I approve" was +changed to "You sent for me. I don't know if I approve". + +In Part III, Chapter VIII, a period was changed to a comma after "Don +Ramon's hint was plain". + +In Part III, Chapter IX, "He shouted and Marsten clenched his fist" was +changed to "He shouted and Marston clenched his fist", and a period was +changed to a question mark after "Can you hold her". + +In addition, the heading for WYNDHAM'S PAL which originally followed the +heading for PART I: THE LURE OF AMBITION has been moved to precede it. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wyndham's Pal, by Harold Bindloss + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WYNDHAM'S PAL *** + +***** This file should be named 39349.txt or 39349.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/4/39349/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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