diff options
Diffstat (limited to '77260-h/77260-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 77260-h/77260-h.htm | 13924 |
1 files changed, 13924 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/77260-h/77260-h.htm b/77260-h/77260-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..853db4d --- /dev/null +++ b/77260-h/77260-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13924 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of In Peril on the Sea, +by Montague T. Hainsselin +</title> + +<style> +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.para2 {text-indent: 1.5em; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 0;} + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.hanging {text-indent: -10%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.salutation {text-indent: 0; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.letter {text-indent: 1.5em; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.closing {text-indent: 0; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.report {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.report2 {text-indent: 4% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77260 ***</div> + +<h1> +<br><br> + In<br> + Peril on the Sea<br> +</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t2"> + MONTAGUE T. HAINSSELIN<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> + AUTHOR OF<br> + <i>"IN THE NORTHERN MISTS," ETC.</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + HODDER AND STOUGHTON<br> + LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + <i>THE SAME AUTHOR</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="t3"> + IN THE NORTHERN MISTS<br> + GRAND FLEET DAYS<br> + NAVAL INTELLIGENCE<br> + THE CURTAIN OF STEEL<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap00b"></a></p> + +<p class="t3"> +<i>PREFACE</i> +</p> + +<p> +Having spread myself discursively in four +books dealing with the naval aspect of +many things; <i>videlicet</i> and to wit: +</p> + +<p class="hanging"> +<i>of Shoes</i>; especially of Pusser's Crabs, footwear +of the British Matlow in all climes; +of sea-boots, which may be taken +up On Loan, and with a certain +amount of tact and discretion may be +attracted into the orbit of personal +and private gear; and of Uniform +Boots, plain-fronted and without +toe-caps, the mark of the correctly-garbed +Naval Officer, distinguishing the +pukka navy man not seldom from +his temporary brother who is apt to +be known by his Feet of Clay, i.e. a +pair of Plain-clothes boots with +patterns punched in holes all over their +bows: +</p> + +<p class="hanging"> +<i>and Ships</i>; treating of them according to their +various classes and according to their +many kinds of work in the Great War: +</p> + +<p class="hanging"> +<i>and Sealing-wax</i>; also of Red Tape, and other +such weapons of officialdom; how +they vex the souls of bluff happy-go-lucky +sailormen; how they can be +parried and evaded by guile and +experience; and how the command +to Give Reasons In Writing must be +correctly met by the soft answer that +turneth away wrath, beginning with +I Have The Honour To Submit and +finishing with the additional +Honour—(really, it is a wonder that the +humble delinquent can bear the +weight of so many honours!)—of +Being Your Obedient Servant: +</p> + +<p class="hanging"> +<i>of Cabbages</i>; and other succulent produce of +the kitchen garden, sent by the very +kindest of Committees to the men of +the Grand Fleet month after month, +a welcome change from the official +spud. Also of other cabbages, grown +by optimistic and energetic and +enthusiastic Naval Officers in +extemporised gardens upon the islands +of Flotta and Fara: +</p> + +<p class="hanging"> +<i>and Kings</i>, and notably of our own most +gracious sovereign Liege Lord, and +his visits to the Fleet where he was +welcomed indeed as King, but doubly +and trebly welcomed as being himself +a Navy man. +</p> + +<p> +—<i>Having</i>, I say, discoursed of these and similar +matters in certain volumes which both the general +public and the reviewers have received with very +great kindness—though a friend of mine <i>did</i> say to +me, "whenever I find that I can't go to sleep I just +take up one of your books and read a chapter, and +then I soon drop off"; and I am left guessing to +this very day whether or not he meant it as a +compliment—having, I repeat, written these four books +of essays and sketches (this sentence is really going +to close now) it occurred to me that it would be a +great relief to myself, if not to my readers, if I were +to write a story. +</p> + +<p> +A Naval story, of course. I quite understand +that I must confine myself to my own sphere and +not try to write about people and things I didn't +know—though I believe there have been +story-writers who have been known to do such a thing. +</p> + +<p> +Well, it sounds easy enough, to write a Naval +story. But it is the very dickens of a job when +you actually settle down to do it; and I'll tell you +why. +</p> + +<p> +First, because most of the fashionable methods of +treatment, applicable readily enough to shore-going +stories, do not fit in at all well with a nautical +atmosphere. +</p> + +<p> +For example, there is the method which may be +described politely as the Biological—and impolitely +as, well, choose your own word for it, please. Books +of this kind generally contain a Triangle and a +Problem, like Euclid; but with this exception they +do not at all resemble him. +</p> + +<p> +Even with the worst intentions, however, it would +be almost impossible to conform to this method, +because the Navy is not Bisexual: unless you count +the Wrens; and these, unfortunately—or is it +fortunately?—are not allowed to go to sea; and +anyhow, the Wrens deserve a story all to themselves, +and it should be written in letters of gold. +</p> + +<p> +Then there is another favourite story-form, in +which you are told at great length how John Smith, +of Yorkshire or the Midlands, cooms doon fro' th' +hoose to th' works i' th' morning and fares back fro' +th' works to th' hoose at neet, and does this for +twenty-odd years without any more exciting incident +than taking tea on one occasion wi' a neebour; and +that's all there is to it. +</p> + +<p> +Here again, the method appears scarcely thrilling +enough for a sea story, and I'm quite sure you +wouldn't really like it. +</p> + +<p> +Or there is that other method, greatly affected +by certain writers, of describing minutely the hero's +daily doings from the moment of his birth, through +his childhood, youth, adolescence, and early manhood, +until—until you feel that you really couldn't +stick another page of him! +</p> + +<p> +That is all very well in its way; but the lives of +all naval officers are really so very much alike in +most details that if I were to attempt this sort of +writing I might get myself into serious trouble with +the very senior officers, who would want to know why +I had dug up their past in this barefaced manner! +</p> + +<p> +And that reminds me; in my last book, "The +Curtain of Steel," I took particular pains to insist, +in the preface, that there were no portraits amongst +the characters therein depicted; there was, I stated +only one part-exception to this—I had drawn from +life in one sole instance; "and that," said I, "was +the face of a good man." Well in due course I had +a letter from one of my late messmates, which said, +"when we read the preface and saw it stated that +there was one portrait, the face of a good man, +everyone blushed self-consciously." It just shows +how hard it is to ram an idea into some people, +doesn't it? +</p> + +<p> +Anyhow, at the risk of being again disbelieved or +misunderstood, I beg to repeat the statement in +reference to this present book that THERE ARE +NO PORTRAITS IN IT. +</p> + +<p> +But, to go back to the difficulties of writing a +sea story. The second of these is that there is +always Captain Marryat to contend with. +</p> + +<p> +I mean that this splendid old fellow has set the +pace so rapidly that any modern weakling who +endeavours to follow lamely in his footsteps will +not be considered to be giving his readers their +money's worth unless he provides a fight with +cannons and cutlasses, or some hairbreadth escape, +on every other page. +</p> + +<p> +Now, naval warfare up to date has been proved +to be somewhat monotonously free from stirring +incidents. Marryat would probably have used up +the whole of this war's sea-fighting in one book, or +in two at most. There have been plenty of actions +with the enemy, of course, and very thrilling ones; +but they have been so equally distributed amongst +the various units of the Navy that it would be an +impossibility to make a hero participate in a +sufficient number to enable one to make a whole volume +out of him. +</p> + +<p> +So the only thing to do was to take an incident—or +rather, in this case, to invent one—and with it +fill up the two hours' traffic of a book. The incident +had of course to be of the real old-fashioned +cut-and-thrust order; nobody wants analytical and +psychological character drawing in a naval story. The +play's the thing—and, after all, in spite of the +people who scorn to introduce into their books +anything so utterly <i>démodé</i> as a plot, and even +sniff at the vulgarity of mere incidents, there is +something to be said for a yarn which does not +profess to be anything more than a yarn with no +more purpose than that of wiling away an idle +hour or two. +</p> + +<p> +I like writing prefaces. I don't know if you like +reading them. Do you mind if I go on with this +one for a bit? +</p> + +<p> +I know I shall get into hot water about Patrick +Sheridan's dialect. Once upon a time I wrote a +little story in which I made an Irishman say: +</p> + +<p> +Begobs; it was, perhaps, a weak thing to do, +but really I meant no harm. Well, an Irish correspondent +wrote at once to the paper, very indignantly, +to protest against my putting that expression into +the mouth of one of his compatriots. And it appears +that something of this sort nearly always happens +when anyone attempts to reproduce a so-called +Irish dialect, and especially when he reproduces it +very badly—as I admit I do. +</p> + +<p> +This is very strange; one may with impunity +write in that peculiar and well-known Loamshire +dialect which is nowhere found but in the English +novel or on the English stage—and no Englishman +ever thinks of grumbling; he is, indeed, rather +amused, though generally still more bored. But if +one dares to make an Irishman say "fwhat" for +"what," or "whoy" for "why"—well, it is +treated as just one more injustice to Ireland! +</p> + +<p> +Yet, what can one do? There are conventions +to be observed and these are maintained because +they are not only conventions but conveniences; +and just as you have a stage Irishman whom you +can recognise at once by his knee-breeches, flower-pot +hat, and little black dudheen, so you have also the +book-Irishman who is labelled as such by a few +unmistakable turns of speech. It makes no difference +that the stage-Irishman and the book-Irishman +are never seen and never have been seen in real life. +Their peculiarities are simply labels, like those which +the Elizabethans used to stick up on their back-cloths +to say "This is a castle"; it wasn't in the remotest +degree like a castle, but everyone knew what was +meant. +</p> + +<p> +And, of course, even the most scrupulously careful +effort to reproduce dialect phonetically in print is +bound to be a lamentable failure. Many people will +probably be surprised to be told that the function +of the written or printed word is primarily to record +<i>ideas</i>, and only secondarily—if at all—to record +<i>sounds</i>. Certainly, our own English alphabet, with +its ridiculously inadequate complement of twenty-six +letters, is hopelessly unfitted to do the work of +a gramophone; the thing would be impossible, +really, were the alphabet ten times as big. And that +is why the very greatest writers, such as Dickens, +never seriously attempt to reduce to writing every +word of their dialect-characters in the exact form +implied, but content themselves with inserting a +dialect-word here and there, thus avoiding a form +of writing which would be an intolerable labour to +the reader, while sufficiently indicating that the +curiosities of speech are to be understood throughout. +It is not necessary to place milestones at every yard +of the road. +</p> + +<p> +I hope it is not necessary also for me to apologise +for this same Patrick Sheridan being a thorough +Bad Hat. If you can't employ a Villain in a story, +what can you do? It does not necessarily follow +that the villain is taken as a type of his whole race +and nation; and in this present case I positively +disavow any such intention; so be it known to all +men by these presents. +</p> + +<p> +Oh yes, there is one thing more. When I +announced, in the sanctity of the home circle, my +determination to write a story, the Critic on the +Hearth—the junior one—said, "Well, mind you +don't write anything about girls and Love; 'cause +you can't do it!" +</p> + +<p> +Did you ever hear of such a thing? Of course, +no man could take a dare like that; and, besides, +what would a naval story be like if it didn't contain +something about both of these subjects? A +wishy-washy affair! Try and imagine Jack without his +Faithful Poll! The thing simply can't be done. So +there just had to be Girls and Love in it. But whether +I have given satisfaction or not must remain unknown +until the aforesaid Critic on the Hearth reads +the attempt in cold print; and then it will be too late +to complain. +</p> + +<p> +Naval readers will be certain to note a few inaccuracies +in the description of a "Court of Iniquity" at +the end of the book. +</p> + +<p class="t3"> +But that is because... +</p> + +<p> +And I am confident that this will be recognised as an +adequate explanation. +</p> + +<p> +And now, having as I hope disarmed criticism all +round beforehand—a wise precaution to take, and +one which I trust will be justified by +results—perhaps I had better go ahead with the yarn. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + H.M.S. <i>Vivid</i>,<br> + 1919.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<i>In Peril on the Sea</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER I +</h3> + +<p> +It is cold, very cold, up on the bridge of the +solitary cruiser. +</p> + +<p> +The chilling mist which has been gathering over +the face of the still waters all the afternoon now +thickens and banks up into a dense white fog as the +short October evening closes swiftly in. +</p> + +<p> +An anxious time indeed for those on the bridge; +a fog is more to be dreaded than the heaviest gale. +Not half so dangerous is the sea when its lashing +waves sweep the ship's decks as when it lies +treacherously calm, leaden and lifeless, beneath +the impenetrable shroud of the white sea-mist. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the grim irony of War can make even this +axiom suffer a sea-change: if any testimony were +needed to the stern reality of naval life in war time +it could be found in this, that even the hated sea-fog +may have its welcome side. +</p> + +<p> +One danger drives out another. If the fog blinds +the eyes of the look-out men, it also blankets the +periscope of any lurking hostile submarine. +</p> + +<p> +So the <i>Marathon</i> slows down to ten knots: and +presently to seven. The escorting destroyers, one +on either bow, can no longer be seen; they can +only be heard by the mournful ringing of the fog-bell +at one minute intervals, the sound coming muffled +and diminished across the veiled waters. +</p> + +<p> +The navigating bridge, which is the highest platform +of a complex structure built around the foremast, +forms a little world of its own, poised between +sea and sky and isolated from that other little world +of the ship far beneath. +</p> + +<p> +The occupants of this island in mid-air are few—to +be exact, just four men; two bluejacket look-out +men, the officer of the watch, and the navigator. +</p> + +<p> +Of these, the look-out men have nothing to do +just at present, for the simple reason that they +cannot see even as far as the bows; the officer of +the watch also finds his position a sinecure, since +the ship is on a steady course and he has not even +an order to call down the voice-pipe to the bridge +beneath, where the quartermaster stands by the side +of the able seaman at the wheel. +</p> + +<p> +The navigating officer alone of the four finds +something to occupy his time. He is standing +at a tiny chart table with a hinged glass cover +which, when raised, acts as a wind screen. Here +he bends over his chart and makes many calculations +in silence, as he has in fact been doing for the past +half-hour. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton, the officer of the watch, finds the +proceedings distinctly uninteresting. He has had +no one to speak to and practically nothing to do ever +since he came on watch. The cold strikes through +his thick duffel coat, and even his heavy sea-boots +and the woollen stockings drawn well up over his +knees outside his trousers are a poor protection +in this raw weather. +</p> + +<p> +Pulling down the wrist of his gauntlet he glances +at his watch in the fading light, and notes with +satisfaction that it is close on six o'clock. In a very +few minutes he will be able to leave the bridge +and go below. +</p> + +<p> +But in reality he does not mind either the cold or +the tedium of watch-keeping. He is far too keen +for that. Every line of his tall, strong-knit figure +and of his somewhat hatchet-like face spells keenness. +And if proof of this were wanted, there is the fact +that there is no need at all for him to be keeping +watch; as first lieutenant and executive officer +of the ship watch-keeping forms no part of his +regular duties; yet he has undertaken to keep +a standing first dog, to relieve the other +watchkeepers and to keep things in this department up +to the high-water mark of smartness and efficiency. +</p> + +<p> +That is his way. +</p> + +<p> +Now that his self-imposed task is nearly over he +steps forward to the navigating officer at the chart +table, and says: +</p> + +<p> +"I'm away below in a moment, Navvy. What +about it? It's beastly thick—do you think we +ought to give the Owner a call?" +</p> + +<p> +The navigator looks up from his work and peers +into the fog-bank. "Well, I shouldn't—not yet," +he answers. "The old man is having a doss in his +sea-cabin—he'll be up all through the night, +probably. I shall be here for a bit myself, and I'll call +him if necessary. But I think the fog may lift +presently. It seems to me to be more patchy than +it was. Shouldn't be surprised if it were only local, +and if so we may run out of it before long." +</p> + +<p> +"All right, old man, if you think so." And +with a nod he turns away, as Morley, the lieutenant +who is to keep the last dog, appears coming up the +ladder on the very stroke of four bells. Relieving +the bridge strictly up to time is a virtue of the +<i>Marathon</i>, thanks to the first lieutenant, who won't +countenance any slackness in this respect, and sets +a good example himself. With a few rapid words +technical phrases and seaman's language he "turns +over" to Morley; and then, relapsing into everyday +phraseology, he callously bids that young officer +"Don't let yourself get over-heated—and beware +of being led away into idle gossiping by that garrulous +navigator." And with a laugh he rattles down the +ladder and makes his way to the wardroom. +</p> + +<p> +The half dozen officers whom he finds assembled +in that very warm and cosy room he greets with: +</p> + +<p> +"Phew, what a cheery old fug!" and it certainly +is a very different atmosphere from that of the +navigating bridge. As for being cheery, the blazing +fire and the glow of the electric lights beneath their +shades of yellow silk make the wardroom a very +pleasant place indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton peels off his thick duffel coat and sheds +some of his other trappings, then flings himself +into a comfortable arm-chair near the fire and +announces to the mess in general that he is not too +proud to accept a drink from anyone. As, however, +this hint meets with no acceptance, he is +constrained to summon the waiter himself and to make +the necessary arrangements. +</p> + +<p> +"What's it like up topside?" queries Dale, +the surgeon, looking up from the card-table where he +is playing bridge with the fleet-paymaster, the senior +engineer-lieutenant, and one of the watchkeepers. +</p> + +<p> +"Pretty thick. But I think it's beginning to clear +a little." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," remarks the engineer-lieutenant. "I +hope so, anyway. I don't much care for crawling +along at this speed. Hallo! what's that?"—his +attentive ear has caught the sound of a bell in the +engine-room ringing a quick succession of sharp +strokes. "Slowing down again? What's that for, +I wonder?" +</p> + +<p> +He looks puzzled; and with a brief excuse to the +others at the card table makes off to go below, +where he feels he may be wanted. +</p> + +<p> +But the reason for slackening speed is not for long +a mystery. A messenger from the bridge, a smart +young signalman, enters and approaches the +recumbent first lieutenant, and presents a signal-pad. +The first lieutenant takes it carelessly and reads +aloud: +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Floating object, apparently mine, on surface +bearing right ahead of you</i>. Hm, cheerful prospect, +isn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Who's that from, Number One?" enquires the +fleet-paymaster. +</p> + +<p> +"From one of our destroyers. I suppose we are +slowing down to touch it off. Well, it isn't in my +line. Someone else can attend to that business, +I'm not going to disturb myself for that—all right, +signalman. Guns, this seems to be more in your +line than mine." +</p> + +<p> +The gunnery-lieutenant who has been, chuckling +quietly to himself over a novel, has in fact already +pricked up his ears at the mention of something +relating to his own beloved artillery; and elated +at the prospect of firing one of his guns, if only at a +floating mine, he flings down his novel and strides +off to make for the upper deck. +</p> + +<p> +There is a mild excitement amongst those in the +wardroom who have not followed him up on deck +to watch the proceedings. Someone remarks with +contemptuous disgust on the flagrant disregard +for the ways of civilisation which has prompted the +Hun to scatter his floating mines broadcast on the +ocean in defiance of all international law. But the +remark is made with little fervour and scarcely any +bitterness—the Hun has multiplied his diabolical +deeds in so many other undreamt of directions that +such a trifle as this has long ago ceased to seem a +thing to be wondered at. +</p> + +<p> +The young watchkeeper at the bridge-table treats +the matter facetiously. "Dashed bad luck, I call +it," he grumbles; "if only those silly signalmen +weren't so darned officious, we might have had the +joss to bump the thing! A nice little hole in +the for'ard compartments or a broken stem-piece +ought to be good for a couple of months in dock, +and then we might all of us have wangled a nice +drop of leave!" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton rounds upon him in a tone of affected +horror, "<i>What!</i> you mutinous, unpatriotic, selfish +young anarchist! The <i>Marathon</i> is to get blown up +just to give you a month's holiday? Well I'm ... no, +words fail me!" +</p> + +<p> +He laughs, but there is a certain seriousness in his +voice which is not all affected. The very idea of any +disaster happening to the <i>Marathon</i>—except in battle +with the enemy, which would be the fortune of war +and a very different matter altogether—is something +which he does not care to contemplate. Not without +the envy of half the other two-and-a-half stripers +of his seniority did he achieve the coveted appointment +of first lieutenant to the <i>Marathon</i>, the very +latest thing in light cruisers. Only two sister-ships, +the <i>Salamis</i> and the <i>Thermopylæ</i>, were in +commission at the time when Stapleton was appointed; +and there was more competition to go to one of +this <i>Greeko</i> class, as the Navy affectionately termed +them, than there was for ships of the most powerful +battle-squadron; such was the reputation of these +marvellous little cruisers, in which speed, armament +and armour combined to form something nearly +approaching a naval constructor's dream. +</p> + +<p> +Surgeon Dale looks up presently from the table +where he has been holding a post-mortem on +the last hand in the temporary absence of his +partner. +</p> + +<p> +"Guns is a long time downing that mine," he +remarks; "What's the delay, I wonder?" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton awakens at this remark to the realisation +that he has been lost in a reverie about his +beloved ship, and that the double explosion of gun +and mine which might reasonably have been expected +for some minutes past has, as a matter of fact, not +been heard at all. +</p> + +<p> +He too looks up wonderingly. And, as if in +answer to his unspoken query, the skylight overhead +is at that moment lifted and the face appears of an +excited officer who calls down into the wardroom. +</p> + +<p> +"I say, it isn't a mine at all—it's a boat! A +drifting boat. With people in it. Shipwrecked. +We're stopping to pick them up!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER II +</h3> + +<p> +There is a rush to look out of the wardroom +scuttles, everyone being eager with curiosity +to see the new and unexpected sight. +</p> + +<p> +At first there is nothing to be seen from the +wardroom except the unruffled surface of the sea, still +veiled in the white mist. +</p> + +<p> +But when the cruiser, gradually losing way, turns +to port before finally stopping, a boat comes into +view on the starboard bow and soon is right on the +beam, still some little distance away. +</p> + +<p> +Overhead, the sea-boat's crew are already +clambering over the netting into the cutter swung +outboard at the davits, and the falls are manned. +Quickly the boat is lowered, and as soon as she +touches the water her crew have got their oars +out and are pulling away rapidly in the direction +of the derelict boat. +</p> + +<p> +Such a forlorn object it looks, there on the +friendless sea, alone and helpless. She is just drifting +at the mercy of the wind and the current; there +is no sail hoisted, and no attempt at getting the oars +out to pull. What use, indeed, so far from any +shore? +</p> + +<p> +Even at this distance it can be seen that the occupants +of the drifting boat are but three. This also +explains why they have accepted the inevitable +and resigned themselves to their fate without +endeavouring to save themselves. How could three +people hope to pull a heavy life-boat? +</p> + +<p> +And what is more—yes, why surely! Now that +one of those at the wardroom scuttles gifted with +sharper eyes than the rest points out the fact the +others also are able to see that he has made no +mistake—two out of the three in the boat are +women! +</p> + +<p> +At this discovery the wardroom is cleared at once +and everybody makes a bee-line for the upper deck. +</p> + +<p> +The first lieutenant has already gone, some time +ago. A mere floating mine is none of his business +and fails to interest him, but a derelict boat with +people to be picked up is a very different matter. +This is his business, and no sooner is the first +announcement made than he is away on deck to take +charge of things. +</p> + +<p> +From the quarter deck of the cruiser the officers +grouped at the ship's side all with binoculars or +telescopes levelled on the two boats see the cutter +approach the derelict and take her in tow. In a +moment more the boat's crew are pulling swiftly +back to the ship. +</p> + +<p> +The first lieutenant gives a brief order, and a +couple of hands overhaul the gangway falls and +lower the ladder to the water's edge. When it is +made fast he descends and stands on the little +platform at the bottom, with the surgeon at his side. +The latter has already given directions to his staff +in the sick bay to have everything in readiness that +may be required in the way of restoratives for the +strangers. +</p> + +<p> +The cutter comes near, and deftly casts off the +tow at the exact moment so as to allow the lifeboat +to come alongside the gangway at the time when +her way has practically stopped. +</p> + +<p> +The first lieutenant is waiting with outstretched +hand to fend off the boat, and to catch the painter, +giving this a swift turn round the stanchion of the +gangway so as to bring the boat to a complete +standstill. +</p> + +<p> +Then he jumps in quickly, followed by Dale, +and the two of them assist the women out of the boat +and up to the cruiser's deck. The man of the +shipwrecked party requires no help. Without a word +he follows in the wake of the others with so erect +a figure and so firm a stride that it is evident he has +suffered no great harm from his exposure. +</p> + +<p> +But the two women are in much worse case than +he. They are both quite young, young enough +almost to be the man's daughters, though this is +scarcely probable since they are so unlike him—and +indeed so unlike each other also, one being tall +and dark, the other of medium height and fair. +</p> + +<p> +The latter, who is the younger of the two girls, +is almost in a state of collapse, and Dale has to take +her into his arms and carry her up the gangway. +The dark one merely supports herself on Stapleton's +arm, and with unsteady steps makes her way to the +cruiser's deck. +</p> + +<p> +Here Captain Blake is waiting to receive them, +and does so with a few kindly words of welcome—a +very few, because he is far too sensible to spend +time in useless talk at such a moment. +</p> + +<p> +"Better take them down to the wardroom, +Stapleton," he advises—"that is, if you fellows +won't mind. There's no fire in my cabin aft. I'll +have it lighted though, and they can go there +presently. Meanwhile, I'm sure you won't object +to being the hosts instead of myself." +</p> + +<p> +Object to it? Why the officers of the <i>Marathon</i> +cannot do enough for their poor guests. In a +moment they have taken complete charge of them, +and having got them down below are fussing over +them in a crowd, all eagerly trying to do something +that may add to the comfort of the unfortunate +people. The young marine officer stokes up the +fire and piles on coal to make a blazing glow, the +fleet-paymaster pushes forward armchairs in a +half-circle around the stove, the engineer-lieutenant and +a brace of watchkeepers are bustling round to procure +food and drink, and have impressed into their service +the whole body of marine servants and wine stewards. +Another officer has dashed off to his cabin and +returned with an armful of blankets, and yet another, +having summoned the wardroom messenger, is +loudly impressing on that stolid youth an order to +go to the galley and tell the cook to have lots of hot +water ready—though exactly what he wants with +hot water is not precisely clear. Hovering around +these and getting in their way is a little knot of +other officers of various ranks and ages who are +anxious to help but cannot quite make up their +minds as to the particular capacity in which they +can best make themselves useful. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor bundles most of them out of the room, +telling them in terms more candid than polite that +they are clucking around like a lot of old hens and +would they be good enough to run away and play +somewhere else, as they are only in the way here. +</p> + +<p> +As the doctor is an autocrat under present +conditions he gains his ends without any demur; but +relents to the extent of permitting four or five of +the more senior officers to remain and give their +assistance. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton takes it for granted that he is one of +these who are to stay. It is to be feared that he is +not actuated simply by an altruistic desire to aid +suffering humanity; there is more than a suspicion +that he finds an irresistible attraction in the +beautiful dark girl—at any rate, he hovers around her +with every possible offer of assistance rather to the +neglect of the other, whom he leaves to the tender +mercies of Surgeon Dale. As for the man of the +shipwrecked party he sits apart, surrounded and +ministered to by those officers who are a little shy +of attending on the ladies. +</p> + +<p> +Possibly their shyness is accentuated by the fact +that the attire of the said ladies is decidedly scanty. +It is evident that they must have been surprised by +whatever mischance had befallen them at a time +when they were asleep in their cabins, for their +garments bear witness to a hurried departure. +</p> + +<p> +The older of the two girls, the dark one, has simply +thrown on a heavy wadded silk kimono over her +<i>robe de nuit</i>, and has thrust her dainty feet into a +pair of dancing slippers. The other girl, presumably +refusing to leave the ship till the last possible +moment—one can almost hear her companion +calling to her and urging her to make haste before +it is too late—has put on boots and stockings and +a skirt, with a long fur coat over all; poor enough +protection, even this, for hours in an open boat! +The man is in shirt and trousers, and he also appears +to have found time to put on his boots without +worrying about stockings. +</p> + +<p> +Such is the garb in which the three make their +appearance on board the <i>Marathon</i>; but the blankets +collected by the thoughtful young lieutenant who +went off to ransack his cabin have been called into +immediate requisition and put to good purpose; +and certain other gear has been turned out and put +to daintier use than that for which it was originally +meant; who would have dreamt, for instance, that +a pair of Stapleton's football stockings would ever +be graced by such a pretty pair of limbs as are +encased in them now? +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER III +</h3> + +<p> +Captain Blake also remains in the wardroom, +and endeavours to put the unfortunate +people at ease by getting them to talk calmly +of their misadventure. +</p> + +<p> +At first he is somewhat unsuccessful, the girls, +at least, are seemingly so frightened and collapsed +that they can hardly get beyond a few disjointed +sentences and much sobbing. But Captain Blake +keeps manfully at his task and feigns to take no +notice of their whispered hesitations. +</p> + +<p> +"That's better," he says cheerfully, as he stirs the +fire to a still fiercer blaze. "Poor things, how cold +you must be! How long did you say you were +adrift in that boat?" As a matter of fact they +had not said anything about it, but Captain Blake +ignores this detail. +</p> + +<p> +"Since about five o'clock this morning. Our ship +was torpedoed just a few minutes before the hour." +</p> + +<p> +The dark girl has suddenly found her voice. And +a beautiful voice it is in which she makes this clear +sharp statement; a rich, full contralto, with just +a sweet suspicion of an Irish brogue about it. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton turns his eyes wonderingly on her as +she speaks. Is it possible to fall in love with a +voice? If so, then this is just the sort of voice to +make such an act excusable. +</p> + +<p> +"Over twelve hours, and in this bitter weather!" +exclaims the Captain. "I wonder you are alive! +And was no one saved but you three? But—stupid +of me—of course, you can tell us all about that +later." Then, turning to the man of the party, who persists +in remaining apart from the others—"Do pull over +your chair, my dear sir, you must be——" +</p> + +<p> +"Thank ye, I'm all right," comes the rather +ungracious answer. "Ye need not mind me, if ye'll +look after the two girls. It's perished with the cold +they are. For myself, I want nothing." +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton bends his head towards Dale and says +in an undertone, "Seems a surly kind of chap, +doesn't he?" But the doctor does not reply: he +looks from one to the other of the shipwrecked +passengers and shakes his head mysteriously. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment there is an opportune interruption, +as a small army of waiters and stewards file +into the room with all manner of preparations for +refreshing the inner man. One would think from +the number of dishes and decanters that there was a +whole shipwrecked crew waiting to be fed instead +of only three people! +</p> + +<p> +However, it is a very welcome sight and there is +much bustling about to seize the most tempting +articles of food and drink and offer them to the +famished guests. +</p> + +<p> +Dale, knowing well what will be the most useful +as a preliminary, seizes brandy and hot water, and +insists upon his patients taking some immediately. +He himself holds the glass to the lips of the younger +girl, who is by far the most fainting of them all. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh please, please," she stammers, turning her +head away, and pushing the glass aside, "I—I can't. +Oh, I'm so frightened! This is a terrible business!" +</p> + +<p> +"Come, come, that's all right. Drink this and +you will feel better. There's no need to worry over +anything now. It's all over, you know!" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, but it <i>isn't</i>! I'm—oh dear, oh dear!" More +sobbing. Dale is rather taken aback, but still +keeps gently insisting till finally he succeeds in +making the girl swallow a little of the brandy. The +Captain, who cannot stand a woman's tears, murmurs +something apologetic and altogether unintelligible +and makes a bolt from the room. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton meanwhile has had better success with +the other girl. Confronted with the same tearful +hesitation he adopts different methods. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes, I know you don't like it, and all that +sort of thing," he says banteringly, "but just +swallow it down like a good child and you shall have +a bun and an orange and go to the pantomime. +Don't think about it—think of something else; +good speech that of Lloyd George the other day, +wasn't it? Been to any of the new revues lately? +There—that's done it! You'll feel quite yourself +again presently. Pardon my drastic methods, won't +you?" +</p> + +<p> +The girl is forced to smile through her tears. "Oh, +thank you, thank you, you are very good! How +can you be so kind to us? Oh, if only you——" +</p> + +<p> +"Norah!——" +</p> + +<p> +It is the man who has uttered this sharp cry +which rings loud above the buzz of talk and the +noise of the busy waiters, and creates a sudden +silence in the room. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton and Dale turn quickly towards the man. +The surgeon is so startled that he drops the glass +from his hand, and it shivers upon the hard deck +with a tinkling crash. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah," says the man, "'tis my nerves are on the +stretch!" Apparently he is explaining and +apologising for his startled exclamation. "And small +wonder! From seven o'clock this morning in an +open boat—an' then to see our ship go down before +our very eyes! 'Twas a German submarine, sir—a +deliberate attack without warning! Would you +believe, now, that they would do such a dirty trick? +A helpless passenger ship, with women and little +children on board of her! And never a chance for anyone +to get clear of the vessel before they attacked her! +Ah, 'twas a cruel deed—foul shame to them!" +</p> + +<p> +"You're right, sir," remarks Dale, briefly, and +turns away again, content to leave the man to the +fleet-paymaster and the engineer-commander who are +quite capable, he thinks, of looking after him. And, +moreover, the young surgeon does not take kindly +to the man. There was something a little uncalled +for, as it seems, to him, in that long-winded tirade +following on that cry of "<i>Norah!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +What was the meaning of his calling out in that +fashion? After all, there was no explanation of it +in the rapid stream of words that followed. And—yes, +Dale was sure of it—there had certainly been +a note of <i>warning</i> in the man's voice. +</p> + +<p> +But why? Well, it was not worth wondering about +and the surgeon's mind quickly turns to other +matters. +</p> + +<p> +As for Stapleton, he is glad to learn in this +unexpected way the name of the beautiful dark lady +in distress. +</p> + +<p> +"Norah," he repeats quickly to himself—"Norah! +And a very pretty name, too. Yes, it suits her; +Norah." +</p> + +<p> +The last "Norah" comes from his lips a little +louder than he had intended in trying the sound of +it to himself. The owner of the name catches the +sound of it and smiles a little, guessing what is in +his mind. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that is my name," she says, "Norah Sheridan. +I ought to have told you before. And these +are my cousins with whom I am travelling, Netta +and Patrick Sheridan." +</p> + +<p> +"It was a dangerous business crossing the seas +at such a time," observes Dale. "You haven't +told us yet where you were coming from?" +</p> + +<p> +"From America," hesitatingly answers the younger +girl, noting that the question is addressed to her. +</p> + +<p> +"From what part?" +</p> + +<p> +"From—where was it, Norah?" +</p> + +<p> +"From Galveston in Texas. We were bound +for Hull, taking the route around the North of +Scotland." +</p> + +<p> +"And you were almost safe in port!" exclaims +Stapleton. "That was rough luck! I suppose you +were just congratulating yourselves on being pretty +safe, after having escaped danger for—how many +days had you been at sea?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't remember," stammers Netta, and again +appeals to her cousin: "How many days was it, +Norah?" +</p> + +<p> +"Eight. Our escape was a most miraculous one. +I don't believe there were any other survivors. I +saw boat after boat swamped as they tried to get +clear of the ship!" +</p> + +<p> +A pretty cool young woman this, thinks Surgeon +Dale, as he listens to her crisp, concise statement. +Certainly she puts things in a very matter of fact +way! +</p> + +<p> +On Stapleton, however, the effect of the girl's +words is very different. He is roused to a white rage. +</p> + +<p> +"Those swine, those murdering devils!" he +cries, clenching his fists and flashing fire from his +keen blue eyes—"and to think they have the +insolence to call themselves sailors! Making war +against defenceless passenger ships!" +</p> + +<p> +His anger quickly cools, as he continues reflectingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, to torpedo a ship like this, a pukka +man-of-war, that would only be fair game. If <i>we</i> +should happen to get blown to blazes, we shouldn't +have any cause for——" +</p> + +<p> +With a stifled scream Netta breaks in, "Oh +don't—<i>don't</i>! Horrible—horrible!" +</p> + +<p> +"Shut up, you silly ass," Dale admonishes him. +"Don't you see the poor girl has had about as much +as she can stand for one day? Just let her stay quiet +and rest a while." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course! What a fool I was! I <i>am</i> sorry—I +ought to have had more sense than to upset you +like that. Please forgive me, and just remember +you are perfectly safe on board the old <i>Marathon</i>. +Say what you want—everything in the ship is +entirely at your disposal, and every man of us too!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I know you are," comes the steady reply +in Norah's beautiful contralto. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Norah, how <i>can</i> you?" In some unexplained +manner the simple words has had the result +of upsetting her tremulous cousin once more, for +the poor girl breaks again into a fit of uncontrollable +sobbing. +</p> + +<p> +"'Poor little girl!" Stapleton murmurs; and +feeling that something more than the rough touch +of a man's sympathy is required to soothe those +jangled nerves, appeals to her cousin. +</p> + +<p> +"Can't you say something to quiet her? Tell her +it's all right now, and there's not the least danger—and +if there were, there are four hundred good men +on board who would gladly give up their lives to save +yours." And he adds in a louder tone: +</p> + +<p> +"As for me, if I had a hundred lives they should +all be yours, if you wanted them!" +</p> + +<p> +The words are not spoken so low but that Norah +hears them. And there is no mistaking the fact +that they are meant in all seriousness. Has the +man fallen in love with her, then? Is this a case +of that proverbial gallantry of the typical naval +officer—or is it something deeper than that? +</p> + +<p> +Be it what it may, the effect upon her is to say +the least of it unexpected. She is neither melted +into softness at the impassioned words, nor on the +other hand does she seem offended. Only she sets +her lips firmly, and for a moment a look as of a +fixed resolve, a fierce determination, comes into her +eyes. And she answers never a word. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IV +</h3> + +<p> +Captain Blake, driven from the wardroom by +a woman's sobbing, has not allowed his +sentimental nature to interfere with his proper +duties. Had he been that sort of man he would not +have been given command of the <i>Marathon</i> at the age +of forty-two. One of the very smartest and most +efficient of the junior captains he has made his way +up the ladder without interest simply by his own +abilities, and especially by his oft proved readiness +to do the right thing in an emergency. +</p> + +<p> +On this particular occasion perhaps no very great +genius is required to cope with the situation; but +he has dealt with it in the quickest and most effectual +way, as is shown when he presently comes again +into the wardroom and announces: +</p> + +<p> +"I hope you haven't been thinking that I've +neglected you? But I knew that I had left you in +good hands and you would be well looked after. +Meanwhile, I've been calling up by wireless one of +our destroyer escort, and I propose to send you back +to the shore in her. Ah, that's the reply I expect"—as +a signalman enters and holds up before him a +signal pad with a written message on it—"Yes, +that's all right. She'll be alongside soon, and we'll +have you all quite safe on shore before very long." +</p> + +<p> +"We did not expect to get away so soon, sir," +says the dour Sheridan. Surgeon Dale, who prides +himself on being a keen observer, thinks he detects +a certain note of disappointment in the words. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," says the captain, who also notices something +of the same sort but interprets it in a different +sense, "I'm afraid it is the best I can do, under the +circumstances. Naturally, you would prefer to wait +and be landed at some civilised spot, but we +unfortunately are not cruising to any such destination. +And I can't let the destroyer be away from us too +long—she must return again during the night. But +you shall be landed at our own base, and you can +go south from there in a day or two. Will that suit +you, do you think?" +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan has been listening very intently to the +captain's words, and it is quite noticeable that he +tries to control an ill-pleased expression. Though +what on earth he can find to be annoyed about in +such a kind offer is hard to imagine. Moreover, the +same tone of chagrin creeps involuntarily into his +voice as he replies with brief courtesy: +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, sir; the arrangements will suit us +admirably." +</p> + +<p> +Under cover of the captain's presence, and taking +advantage of his timely monopoly of the conversation, +Stapleton has beguiled his lady fair into the +farthest corner of the wardroom, where a hanging +curtain makes a little alcove so that they are shut +off from the others, at least, as far as this is possible +in a small cruiser's wardroom. +</p> + +<p> +The pretext under which he executes this manœuvre +is that he wishes to show her a picture of the +ship hanging there, and will be charmed if she will +allow him to send her a copy of it later on as a +memento of her short visit. But strangely enough +he forgets all about this as soon as they are alone +together, and apparently finds plenty to say to her +on some other subject. For he seats her in a cosy +wicker chair and, drawing over another for himself +bends towards her and talks earnestly in an +undertone. Very earnestly indeed. +</p> + +<p> +"And now, sir," continues the captain, "if you +feel fit to do so, I should be glad if you would come +along to my cabin and let me take down your report +of this distressing affair. I expect the destroyer will be +here, ready to take you back, in about twenty minutes." +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton, overhearing him, remarks quietly, "Oh, +damn!—that is, I beg your pardon, I meant 'oh, +bother!'" +</p> + +<p> +"But why do you say that?" asks Norah Sheridan +suppressing a smile. +</p> + +<p> +"Because it means that you will have to go away, +just as I—oh, dash it all—why, I may never see +you again!" +</p> + +<p> +"I think that is more than likely." Again that +hard resolute expression in the girl's eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"But I—I want to see you again! Oh, I say, I +do wish you hadn't got to go so soon! But, look +here, you will let me see you again some time, won't +you? Tell me where I can come and see you." +</p> + +<p> +"But how can you want that? Barely half an +hour ago you did not even know of my existence!" +</p> + +<p> +"That does not matter at all. The main thing is +that I do know of it now. Think, how strange it is, +your coming here in such a fashion! Can't you see +that there is something greater than ourselves in +all this? Don't you believe it is Destiny that is +leading you—and me?" +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps I do believe it." Very softly comes this +admission. +</p> + +<p> +"Then don't attempt to fight against fate: I tell +you we must meet again." +</p> + +<p> +"I do not think that you will ever be able to see +me, after to-day." +</p> + +<p> +"No, no, don't say that! I will surely come if +you will let me." +</p> + +<p> +"That may be beyond my power—and yours." +</p> + +<p> +"You are right—of course. I know quite well +what you mean. Though we hardly ever give it a +thought—or if we do, it is only to jest about it; +all the same we know very well, all of us, that our +country may claim our lives at any moment. Well, +so be it! But, putting aside that chance, will you +not let me see you again?" +</p> + +<p> +"Do you really mean that you would come?" +</p> + +<p> +"Mean it? Why, I would—oh, I know what it +is; you are thinking that I am just an impulsive +fool, the sort of impressionable idiot who loses his +head over every pretty girl he sees and says all +manner of things without meaning them. Well, I'm +not surprised if you do think so. I've no right to +expect anything else. But all the same I do not +happen to be that kind of man." +</p> + +<p> +"Did I say that I thought that of you?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, but you looked it! Well, I don't wonder. +Any girl would, I suppose. Or else you probably +think I have gone mad to talk like this to you. +Perhaps I have; but nevertheless, I ask you again, +only tell me where I may find you, and if I live I +will come to you." +</p> + +<p> +"But you don't know who I am! You don't +know what I am!" +</p> + +<p> +"I know enough. Listen! It is quite true that +up to less than an hour ago I never knew you, had +never even seen you. But very great things can +happen in a little time, can't they? And it is a +great thing that has happened to me. I never +thought to fall in love—certainly not to fall a victim +to love at first sight like a moonstruck boy. I +meant to live for the Service, and that was my only +ambition: women never entered into my life. But +now, this thing has come to me, and my only hope +lies in telling you openly, in these few minutes that +are left to us." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you mean," says the girl, speaking very +slowly and with a quite unaccountable look of +something very like horror in her dilated eyes, "do +you mean to tell me seriously that you have actually +fallen in love with me? Is this what you are telling +me?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is. That, and nothing less. I can't blame +you if you think I have gone suddenly out of my +senses, as I daresay you do. Oh, I know—I always +used to think myself, like most people, I suppose, +that love at first sight was nothing more than the +sort of romantic nonsense one reads about in books, +and never happened in real life. Well, I daresay it +doesn't occur very often; but just once in a while +it must happen or else people would never have +thought about such a thing. And now I have +proved it is true. As soon as I saw you standing +here in the light of this room I knew that there never +would be any other woman in the world for me but +you, and—I loved you!" +</p> + +<p> +"But why—oh, why?" +</p> + +<p> +"How can I tell? These things are beyond the +powers of reason. If you want me to analyse my +feelings, I know that I saw truth and honour and +goodness gleaming like a halo around you—but this +does not explain it at all, really. It is only that I +love you because—because I love you!" +</p> + +<p> +"But—it is impossible!" +</p> + +<p> +"No, not impossible. It is true. Norah, look me +in the face, and you will see that I am in earnest. +Ah! give me your hands—no, you shall not deny +me! Yes, you see now—you know now. And <i>I</i> +know that if those eyes of yours do not shine for +me, then I shall be for ever in the darkness!" +</p> + +<p> +A low wail, as of a creature in agony, rises from +the girl's lips, as she passionately tears her hands +from his grasp and in a moaning voice echoes his +words: +</p> + +<p> +"<i>For ever in the darkness!</i> Oh, my God!" +</p> + +<p> +"Number One, are you there? Where are you?" +</p> + +<p> +Confound the fellow! Stapleton recognises the +voice of assistant-paymaster Merritt; and hears +also Dale telling him: +</p> + +<p> +"He's in there, behind the curtain." +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton had always rather liked Merritt up to +the present. But at this moment he hates him, with +a fierce and bitter hatred. A feeling which only +grows more intense when that youth drags aside the +curtain and says "Oh, sorry!" with a silly grin +that closes again like an elastic band, though not +without an evident effort; adding in an attempt at +an official voice: +</p> + +<p> +"The captain has sent me to say that he wishes +you to bring Miss Norah Sheridan to his cabin so +that he may complete his report; he is afraid Miss +Netta is not well enough, so he will not disturb +her." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, confound the captain! But where duty +calls I must obey, and all that sort of thing. Miss +Sheridan, may I show you the way?" +</p> + +<p> +They find the wardroom empty as they go towards +the door, excepting for the presence of Dale and Netta +Sheridan, who are sitting very quietly. The surgeon +is keeping an eye on his charge, but is not bothering +her with too much talk; she is far from having +recovered her strength. The other officers have +quietly vanished, being of the opinion that now +Sheridan has been called away by the captain they +can be of very little use, and that to use a vulgar +expression, their room is worth more than their +company. +</p> + +<p> +So, inwardly fuming at his ill-luck in being +interrupted at such an inopportune moment, Stapleton +leads the way to the captain's cabin. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER V +</h3> + +<p> +But no sooner has the door closed on the retreating +pair than Netta Sheridan, reclining languid +and half-dozed on the settee, astonishes the +surgeon and Merritt by suddenly springing to her +feet and exclaiming: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, save her! Save us!" +</p> + +<p> +Merritt, fatuous youth, once more executes his +india-rubber grin, subsiding instantaneously again +into seriousness, and murmurs faintly, "Gosh!" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, help me!" cries the girl again—"listen to +me—I must speak!" +</p> + +<p> +"Buck up—I mean pray don't be alarmed," +exhorts the assistant-paymaster with a well-meaning +effort to say the right thing; "you're quite all +right, you know. It's all over now, you're perfectly +safe!" +</p> + +<p> +"Don't speak to her like that," Dale admonishes +him, with a nudge of his elbow, "you're only frightening +her. Miss Sheridan, there is really no cause for +you to disturb yourself. Your cousin has only gone +with your brother into the captain's cabin to tell +him about what has occurred. She will be back in +a few minutes. Please sit down again and rest." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you don't understand—you won't understand! +Listen, I beg you listen to me. I cannot +bear it any longer. I thought I should be able to +do it, but I can't, oh, I can't!" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, what is the matter," soothingly questions +the doctor. "What is it that you can't do?" +</p> + +<p> +The girl answers him in a quick rush of excited +speech: +</p> + +<p> +"It is my brother Patrick who is at the bottom +of it all. Ah, the terrible man he is, indeed! <i>He</i> +thought of it, and he <i>made</i> us do it. I was always +against it, but what chance had I? Norah he +persuaded—but you mustn't blame her. And, oh, +don't tell her I told you—and don't let <i>him</i> know +it! I am afraid of him, I always have been. If he +tells me to do a thing I have to do it; it has always +been like that. I am afraid to go against him. Oh, +stop him quickly, before it is too late!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah," says Merritt, shaking his head wisely. +"that hot brandy! I <i>knew</i> it was too much for her!" +</p> + +<p> +"Dry up, you ass," says Dale; and turning again +to the distracted girl asks in the tone of one who +wishes to humour an unbalanced patient: +</p> + +<p> +"But you haven't told us yet what is wrong?" +</p> + +<p> +Surely it is nothing but the delirious ravings of +a mind thrown quite out of gear by suffering to +which the poor girl gives vent. +</p> + +<p> +"We're not shipwrecked people at all, we're +only—only pretending. We have not been torpedoed—we +were not in any steamer to <i>be</i> torpedoed; +we were brought to sea by a motor launch, with the +boat you found us in towing behind. We knew to +half an hour what time you would be passing. Oh, +I always said it was a hateful scheme—<i>wrong</i>, too! +Is Patrick coming? Don't let him hear me—don't +let him know I have been talking to you. I'm +terrified of him!" +</p> + +<p> +"What <i>do</i> you mean?" cries the puzzled surgeon. +</p> + +<p> +"Patrick planned it all," goes on the girl, now +thoroughly wound up and seemingly not noticing +the interruption. "It was his idea entirely. He +arranged everything, even to making us dress—as +you saw us. It is a plot—a plot to blow up your +ship!" +</p> + +<p> +"Christmas!" ejaculates Merritt, his mouth wide +open in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +"But it <i>is</i> so, I tell you," cries the girl, turning +round upon the incredulous youth. "You don't +know what Patrick is, or how he hates the English! +We all do. <i>Any</i> ship would have done, but we got +to know about yours, we knew just when you would +be sailing. It is all planned out. Norah is to do it. +she has the bomb, because Patrick thought she +would have a better chance of putting it somewhere +while he would be talking with the captain and +making up a story about the shipwreck. It is to go +off two hours after it is set. Oh, we knew you +would find some means of putting us on +shore—though Patrick and Norah both said they were +ready to take their chance of that! Oh, I cannot +stand it any longer! I cannot allow it to be done! +Quickly! Patrick is with your captain at this very +moment. Find Norah and stop her!" +</p> + +<p> +The torrent of wild words that has fallen from the +girl's lips suddenly ceases and leaves her exhausted +and collapsed. She reels, and would fall fainting +but for Dale catching her in his strong arms and +lowering her gently to the settee. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm blest!" exclaims the assistant +paymaster. "Rum yarn that! Why, the poor girl +must have gone completely off her rocker!" +</p> + +<p> +"And so would you," Dale remarks, "if you had +been shipwrecked and tossed about in an open boat +all day like she has! Her nerves are a little +overstrained, that's all. She will forget all about this +in a few days, most likely. Bear a hand, and we'll +carry her into my cabin and let her lie down quietly +for a while till the destroyer comes. It's too stuffy +in here, enough to upset anybody!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, it is pretty frowsty. No wonder, with +such a fire blazing. And on the top of the hot +brandy, too!" So saying, Merritt helps the doctor +to support the unconscious girl, and between them +they bear off their burden to the cooler atmosphere +of the surgeon's cabin. +</p> + +<p> +Needless to say, Dale gives no more credence to +the poor girl's ravings than Merritt. He knows, from +his professional experience, how an overstrung +imagination can invent the most circumstantial +story and garnish it with a wealth of petty details to +give it an air of truth, insomuch that one would be +almost inclined to believe it, were it not for the fact +that the story thus elaborated is usually wildly +improbable to start with. Strange indeed are the +tricks that the mind can play, under the influence of +suggestion, even auto-suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +Dale can remember, from his own experience, a +dozen cases no less curious than this. There is +nothing wonderful or unusual about it, to his trained +mind. And as he has a practical task in front of +him, he quickly dismisses all thoughts concerning +the vapourings of the poor girl's disordered brain. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VI +</h3> + +<p> +Having concluded their interview with the +captain in his cabin and given him a +full account of everything connected with +their terrible misadventure, Patrick Sheridan +and his cousin Norah make their way back to +the wardroom together with Stapleton. He, poor +fellow, has been pacing impatiently up and down +the flat outside the captain's cabin, cooling his +heels while the others are inside making their +report. His presence there has not been invited, +and all his ingenuity fails to find a pretext +for entering unasked; neither is he willing to lose +the slender chance of a last few words alone with +Norah. And so he remains walking to and fro in +the flat, to the unspoken wonder of the marine +sentry who is not accustomed to see the first +lieutenant of the ship spending his time in this fashion. +</p> + +<p> +But he has not long to wait. In a few minutes +the captain's door opens to let the strangers out; +and seeing Stapleton there on the spot, Captain +Blake is well content to hand them over again to +his care, excusing himself from attending them on +the grounds that he must put the written statements +in order and lock them away in a safe place. Adding +as he bows them out of the room: +</p> + +<p> +"But I shall see you again in a few minutes, +before you leave us. The destroyer cannot be long +now—indeed, she should have been here by this time; +but I expect this thick weather has delayed her." +</p> + +<p> +Poor Stapleton! All his attempts to detach +Norah from her cousin on the way back to the +wardroom prove quite unavailing. Given a little +longer time he would no doubt find some excuse +for doing so; but the distance is so short that he is +unable to hit upon any plausible expedient before +the three are once more in the now deserted +wardroom; and there, of course, any <i>tête-à-tête</i> is now +quite out of the question. +</p> + +<p> +Despairing of this, though he greatly longs for it, +he makes the best of a bad job, and like the good +fellow he is applies himself whole-heartedly to the +more prosaic task of ensuring the comfort of the +wayfarers on their journey to the shore and afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +So, no longer the lover but for the time being the +plain practical man of sound common sense, he +enquires: +</p> + +<p> +"Now, what about money? Of course, you will +need some when you land, and it's quite certain +you haven't any with you now; better let me lend +you some to carry on with till you get to your +home." +</p> + +<p> +"No, no!" cries the girl vehemently, shrinking +back as though the offer were positively repugnant +to her. "We cannot take it from you! We shall +be able to manage somehow!" +</p> + +<p> +And yet the offer is a kindly one, and, in fact, a +very obviously practical one under the circumstances. +Why, then, should she display such a +horror of accepting it? +</p> + +<p> +It must be just her sensitiveness, a reluctance +to take money from a stranger, Stapleton thinks; +half inclined to smile at the fierceness of the refusal; +but recollecting the severe strain to which her +nerves have been put to-day he readily attributes +it to this cause, and gently insists: +</p> + +<p> +"Why, you need not mind, surely, taking it from +me as a loan? I am not giving it to you, and you +can send it back as soon as ever you get to your +friends again." +</p> + +<p> +But Norah shakes her head, and would refuse +for the second time but for the fact that she seems +unable to find words under the stress of her deep +emotion. +</p> + +<p> +However, Patrick Sheridan is troubled by no +sensitive scruples, and effectually puts an end to +her vain resistance by the gentle yet firm rebuke, +</p> + +<p> +"What nonsense, Norah! Don't be so foolish; +it is a very sensible and kind offer, and I shall be +very grateful to accept it. And though I shall of +course return the money at the earliest possible +moment, I shall still be in your debt for your great +kindness—we all of us will be, and that's a fact. +But where's Netta? I don't see her here. What +can have become of her?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, where is she?" echoes Norah anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know. Anyhow, she can't be very far +away; but she had better be ready, the destroyer +can't be more than a very few minutes now. Would +you like me to go and look for her?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, <i>please</i> do." +</p> + +<p> +"I'd be greatly obliged if you would, then." Both +the man and the girl appear equally desirous, +even anxious, judging by the way they speak; but +somehow or other Stapleton gets the impression +that while Norah's wish is for Netta's presence, +Sheridan on the other hand merely wants to get rid +of him. +</p> + +<p> +This is no time, however, to analyze motives, and +Stapleton merely remarks on his way to the door, +</p> + +<p> +"All right. And I'll get some money at the same +time. I won't be more than a couple of minutes." +</p> + +<p> +Hardly has he gone out when a marine sentry +enters, and announces the message he has been +ordered to give: +</p> + +<p> +"First lieutenant, sir? From the officer of the +watch. The destroyer is just coming alongside to +take the party ashore." The stolid marine speaks +as though it were just a matter of conveying the +guests at a Spithead wardroom tea-party back to +Southsea pier, and evidently thinks that sending +back from the high seas in a destroyer a party of +shipwrecked people is no more than part of the +ordinary routine of the ship. +</p> + +<p> +It is not till he has come to the end of his message +that he perceives he has delivered it in vain, and with +a smart "Beg pardon, sir, I thought he was in here," +he turns to go. +</p> + +<p> +"No, he's not here," Sheridan informs him, +pointing to the other door, "he went out that way, +only a moment ago." The sentry thanks him, +salutes again, and departs in the direction indicated; +Sheridan following him with his eyes till the door +closes, leaving him alone with Norah. +</p> + +<p> +Then suddenly he becomes transfigured. His +calmness leaves him, and he becomes in an instant +a different being, a fierce wild creature with whitened +face and blazing eyes. And when he turns to speak +to the girl at his side his voice comes in a hoarse +whisper: +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Now, Norah, quickly!</i> There's no time for you +to choose a better place. Bad luck to the captain +for getting us out of it so soon—I never thought +it would be a rush like this! You will just have to +put it down here somewhere—anywhere, so long +as it is out of sight. <i>Make haste, girl!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Who is this girl who stands here with pallid lips +and great burning eyes, erect and majestic as a +priestess of some ancient faith—and yet with a +shade of fear in her face like a priestess who shrinks +at the very moment of sacrifice? Can it be the +same Norah Sheridan whose sweet dark loveliness +only just now won her a knight errant at first +sight—yes, and more than a knight errant, a lover for +life? +</p> + +<p> +And what is this thing she plucks from her bosom +with tremulous fingers—a wicked looking flat steel +box, engraved with numerals and fitted with a +strong spring lying fiat to its side? +</p> + +<p> +Boldly she drags it from its soft, warm hiding +place; and then, suddenly, all her boldness vanishes +when she sees the accursed thing actually before her +eyes. She looks wildly around her, and—and hesitates. +</p> + +<p> +"Down there, look, behind that bookcase," the +voice of her overbearing companion urges her. +"Hurry now! Set it for two hours; you know +how. By that time it will be quite dark, and all +that are in her will be sent to the bottom for ever!" +</p> + +<p> +Ah, that he should have made choice of these +words of all others to screw the courage of his +accomplice to the sticking-point! Their effect is +none other than to awaken an echo of a voice heard +but just now and forgotten a moment later; a +manly voice, but yet a pleading one, whose low +insistent tones had framed the entreaty. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>—if those eyes of yours do not shine for me, then +I shall be for ever in darkness!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Yes, indeed, for ever in the darkness; and hers +the hand to send him there, him and all others in +the ship with him! +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan has crept round the long table and +stands listening at the door, holding the handle so +as to delay for a second or two longer, if need be, +anyone who should enter before the deed is quite +accomplished. +</p> + +<p> +From that vantage-point he turns an angry face +towards the girl who still stands nerveless and +threatening to fail him just at the culminating +moment when the hazardous scheme bids fair to +result in complete success. +</p> + +<p> +So overwrought with passion is he that when he +essays to whisper the words come from his dry lips +more like a hiss. +</p> + +<p> +"Make haste, curse you! They'll be here before +you can do it if you don't hurry! Put it down I +tell ye!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, no, no!" A moaning sob mingles with the +low-spoken refusal. +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan gasps, at his wits' end for fear the +diabolical plan is going to fail even now at the very +last. +</p> + +<p> +No, not quite at his wits' end. He has still +another card to play: and he plays it, quietly, +persuasively, with all the consummate art he has +at his command: +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, then, is it hesitate ye would? Have you +forgotten your own father shot down in cold blood +in the streets of Dublin by the brutal English +soldiers? Murdered, with all his sins upon him! +Have you forgotten your mother, the heart of her +broken by the cruel deed, and she falling dead across +his grave the day they buried him? Can ye not +hear them crying out to you now? Take shame to +yourself, girl—what kind of daughter is it ye are to +play the weak fool now that the chance of vengeance +is in your very hands?" +</p> + +<p> +He has struck the right chord, as well he knew he +would. An answering vibration stirs the girl's +heart-strings and thrills her to her inmost soul. +</p> + +<p> +Once more she becomes the inspired priestess, and +steels herself to the dread sacrifice; her eyes glow +with the flame of revenge, and sternly she declares: +"I'll do it! Yes—I will!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's right! But for the love of heaven make +haste—the destroyer must be alongside by now, +and that young fool of an officer will be back with +Netta any moment!" +</p> + +<p> +Brought back to memory again! Just when she +thought she had succeeded in crushing down and +forgetting the thought of him! +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, and he too will die!" she cries, dropping +her hands limply to her sides. "No, Patrick, +I—I cannot do it!" +</p> + +<p> +"Fool! Set down the bomb at once, I tell you! +Or if you are afraid, give it to me!" +</p> + +<p> +"No, no—it shall not be. 'Tis more than I can +do, Pat. I cannot—I will not!" +</p> + +<p> +"Give it to me, I say! Curse you, give it to me +at once—I hear them coming for us." +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, he is telling the truth. Norah can hear +them, too. Yet they delay. Their voices and the +sound of their footsteps are plainly audible, but +something detains them—oh why, why will they +not come in? +</p> + +<p> +All at once a light breaks over the unhappy girl's +face. No need to wait for help—how foolish of her +not to have thought of this before! Now that her +mind is made up, the way of salvation lies open and +ready before her. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, open and ready, literally. The open scuttle +is but a few feet distant from her. She has but to +throw the evil thing that rests in her hand out +through this porthole, and the vile secret will be +buried in the sea for ever, with all its dreadful purpose +frustrated. +</p> + +<p> +But Patrick is no fool. He divines instantaneously +his cousin's purpose, from the expression on her face +and the sudden light in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Now or never is his chance. He takes it, heedless +of the steps now at the very threshold. Leaping +across the table he closes with the girl and seizes her +wrist as her hand is now at the open scuttle. +</p> + +<p> +A moaning cry, and an instant's struggle. No +more is possible. Across the room, the door is +flung open and the officers come trooping in. +</p> + +<p> +"So sorry to have kept you waiting such a long +time," surgeon Dale apologises. "The other young +lady felt faint, and so we took her away from this +hot room. I'm afraid she is still not quite herself +though ever so much better. We've taken her on +board the destroyer and she is lying down there +and quite comfortable. I've seen to it all myself." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, she'll be quite all right, I assure you," adds +the first lieutenant. "And now, if you are ready, +will you both of you come along?" +</p> + +<p> +This then is the explanation of the delay outside +the door. A train of unhappy incidents, indeed! +How fate hangs upon the most trifling, unimportant +things! The safety of a ship and the lives of all +her crew to depend on the fainting of an overwrought +girl: no wonder they speak of the Irony of Fate! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VII +</h3> + +<p> +A high-spirited, deeply sensitive girl, caring +nothing for such blows and buffetings as life +may please to deal her so long as they touch +herself alone, but very keenly alive to the wrongs +and injuries of others—especially those near and dear +to her. Such is Norah Sheridan, and such has she +been from her childhood. +</p> + +<p> +Hers is a poor little life-story; rather sordid, and +rather pathetic. It is a record of things that might +easily have been so different, that ought never to +have been as they were. The record of a life spent +under conditions of topsy-turveydom, under the +guidance of a wrong-headed charming fool whom no +one could ever advise: a man who, with a brilliant +intellect and immense powers of perception could +always be counted on to do the wrong thing under all +possible circumstances. It is, to say the least of it, +a heavy handicap to have such a man for a father! +</p> + +<p> +His course of conduct, pursued consistently all +through his life, speaks the nature of the man. +Daniel Sheridan while still a youngster, is offered by +a distant English relative a well-paid post on a big +estate; he refuses and elects instead to pick up the +scantiest of livings in the shady by-paths of +literature—for which he has not even a natural aptitude. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of his career he falls under the +influence of the craziest firebrands of his countrymen, +and imbibes a fierce hatred against a land +which has never done him the slightest harm in the +world. +</p> + +<p> +After a while he migrates to this same hated land, +settles down there in the most elegant poverty, and +remains there happily for the rest of his life! He +even marries an English girl, he is on the best of +terms with his English neighbours; he makes many +close friends amongst the English; if he has to +leave the country to go to the land of his birth he +always comes back again with all possible speed and +with most obvious content. But, in spite of these +things, it must always be quite clearly understood +that he hates England. Oh yes,—and he writes +endless poems on this theme, for now he has +become—by correspondence—one of the inner set of the +Irish "Intellectuals," and his own contribution to +the new learning takes the form of quite brilliantly +clever but equally unwarranted poetry, which no +one will ever read unless it be his fellow Intellectuals; +and they are for the most part too busy writing +their own works of burning genius to read those of +anyone else. +</p> + +<p> +It is these same pungently clever poems that are +the cause of his daughter Norah's first enmity against +society. Her first childish recollection is that of +seeing her father angrily rending the reviews which +have slated his works or worse still have treated +them to a few lines of insipid comment, and of +hearing him break out into a tirade against the +dull-witted English who are too jealous or too brainless +to appreciate works entirely devoted to their abuse. +She sees him fling himself out of the house in a +passion—and cannot follow him in his encounter +ten minutes later, with three or four cronies of the +theoretically hated Sassenach race with whom he +discusses rose-growing and the pre-Raphaelites with +the utmost amiability and complete forgetfulness of +his financial and literary troubles. For Norah there +only remains seared on her brain the memory of her +father's bitterness. +</p> + +<p> +And the knowledge of his poverty. That of +course, is an ever present fact. How the man +manages to live he alone knows—he, and possibly +that distant English relative whose kindness was +not soured by Daniel's youthful refusal of his offer +of work. +</p> + +<p> +What more natural than that the grinding poverty +and the conspiracy to throw contempt on the genius +of the brilliant Irish poet should always be attributed +in the girl's mind to the despicable tyranny of the +English despots? Her father has stated the fact a +thousand times in her hearing, and therefore, it must +be so. +</p> + +<p> +True, there have been moments when this theory +has not appeared to fit in altogether with her own +reading of the facts of life. For example, it is +difficult to reconcile it with the witness of her own +English mother, who is neither tyrannical, despotic, +nor despicable; but the sweetest and most adorable +mother in the world. +</p> + +<p> +Only once did the puzzling contrast vent itself in +an open question: and that only after many days of +silent heart-burnings: +</p> + +<p> +"Mother darling, <i>are</i> the English all as horrid +and hateful as Daddy says they are?" +</p> + +<p> +Mother darling finds it hard to reply. She is +somewhat of a weakling, though a very dear and +good woman; and much as she loves her little +daughter she is still more devoted, even ridiculously +so, to her fascinating irresponsible husband whose +rodomontades she can assess at their true value. +Loyalty to him constrains her to reply with a weak +compromise: +</p> + +<p> +"Not <i>all</i> of them perhaps, dearest one; but I do +not like to hear my little girl questioning the truth +of what she hears her father say." +</p> + +<p> +Amiable fool! Or, perhaps it may be kinder to +say, fond foolish loving heart! The result is, of +course, that Norah grows up from childhood to +girlhood all aflame with the sense of bitter injustice +done to her father, and accepts the alleged cause +of it without further questioning. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally she takes a trip to Ireland in company +with her father. And once is left behind with +some Irish cousins for six months while he returns +to his home in England. +</p> + +<p> +This visit has a great and lasting effect on Norah's +character. Those sentiments which were up till now +merely fluid and formless become crystallised, +assuming a very definite shape—and hardness. +</p> + +<p> +To begin with, she is greatly delighted at being +able to have a friend of her own sex in the person +of her cousin Netta: she has never had a girl friend +before—indeed no friend of any sort except her +own parents; seclusion and poverty coupled with +pride and gentility do not tend much to the +promotion of friendships. +</p> + +<p> +So Netta comes into her life almost as a revelation. +Intercourse with another girl opens up a vista of +happiness hitherto almost undreamt of. What +Netta does and what Netta says become in the +first flush of the newly-formed attachment a perfect +model and a true gospel. +</p> + +<p> +What Netta says, unfortunately, is often no more +than an echo caught from the dark sayings of her +elder brother Patrick. There are but these two, +brother and sister, the former older by some fifteen +years than Netta. To the authority due to his +greater age, is added the weight of a dominating +character, sombre and gloomy. +</p> + +<p> +Like his Uncle Daniel, Norah's father, whom he +nearly equals in age, Patrick Sheridan is a professed +hater of England and all things English. But the +difference between the two men is just this, that +whereas in Daniel the professed hatred dissipates +itself in an effervescence of words, in Patrick it is a +living faith, the guiding motive of his whole life. +He is misguided, unreasonable, fanatical, anything +you like; but at least he is sincere and lives for +his convictions. He despises the dilettante nationalism +of his poetical cousin, and only waits for the day +to put his professions into practice. +</p> + +<p> +In Norah he finds the ground already prepared +by the willing though shallow tillage effected by +Netta's feeble copy of his words and sentiments. +Patrick enters the field with all the forcibility of +his overwhelming character, digs furiously and +deeply into the soil, breaks it up and turns it over +effectively to absorb the air of his stormy reasonings, +and sows it well with the seeds of his political faith. +</p> + +<p> +Norah was ready from the first to give him +hero-worship; but the effect of the two highly-strung +dispositions meeting together is something far more +tempestuous and forceful than what she was prepared +for. She finds herself carried off her feet and +swept away by the violence of the man's passionate +character. +</p> + +<p> +To a certain extent she is repelled by him; his +thoughts and words are so dark and malignant. But +in spite of this she never for a moment hesitates to +follow him implicitly in his devious paths. Where +he leads she must perforce follow. +</p> + +<p> +And always for this reason above all others: that +he is continually sounding the chord of injustice, +tyranny, and oppression, a chord which finds an +immediate response in her sensitive soul. +</p> + +<p> +Thus is worked out by degrees the result, strange +but not unintelligible, of a pure and high-minded +young girl devoting herself to black dishonour for +honour's sake, calling evil good and good evil from +motives which seem to her lofty beyond all others, +hypnotised by morbid suggestion into a state of +mind where the gravest inconsistences are possible. +And at last all her whole being is so lulled into this +dangerous somnabulistic state that only two things +remain to be made clear, two questions to be +answered—will her dark dreams take form in action? +And will she ever awake again to her true self? +Ah, the awaking is to come, indeed, but too late! +First comes the dreadful deed; and it comes as +the culmination of a great tragedy in Norah's young +life. +</p> + +<p> +A tragedy to her; to her father it is a tragedy +made ironical by the intermingling of farce, +consistently with all his career. Such as his life has +been, such is his death. +</p> + +<p> +Going over to Ireland on one of his periodical +visits, Daniel Sheridan has no deeper purpose than +that of interviewing a publisher who, to his great +surprise, has made him quite a favourable offer for +his latest volume of poems. Such a thing has never +happened to him before, and it almost seems as +though the tide is turning and setting in the direction +of prosperity. The reason is really not far to seek. +The cult of Irish letters has lately spread from an +insignificant circle of literary people to widen out +and embrace almost the whole of the nation. A +real native Irish poet above the class of minor +rhymesters is just what the nation has been crying +aloud for, and in Daniel Sheridan the nation's +literary aspirations bid fair to be realised. +</p> + +<p> +The poet is almost beside himself with joy at his +pleasant prospects. Not only does he secure a +substantial sum for his present work, but he also +carries away with him a very handsome offer for +his literary output of the next two years. He looks +forward to spending his remaining days in England +with ease and comfort, and sketches many a rosy +picture of the future. +</p> + +<p> +What he does not quite understand, however, is +the extent to which the intellectual movement in +his native land is intertwined with political +aspirations. And subsequently, when carried away by +the stream of Patrick's wild oratory and the +enthusiasm of his other intellectual associates he finds +himself drawn into the whirlpool of a Dublin riot +on the larger scale, he is to the last unable to +discriminate entirely between what is the desire to +revive the ancient glories of the land of saints and +scholars, and what is mere hot-headed revolt. +</p> + +<p> +Still in this state of indecision he unfortunately +gets in the way of a bullet not intended for him, +and never knows for what cause he lays down his +life. +</p> + +<p> +But when he is lowered into his grave by a band +of sworn patriots—and when his weak and adoring +wife, bereft of her pillar of life, collapses and dies +heart-broken at the very graveside, Norah clutches +at the hand of her cousin Patrick and looks at him +from that moment onwards to help her in her sacred +quest for justice and vengeance. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER VIII +</h3> + +<p> +First the deed, and then the awakening. And, +what a terrible awakening! +</p> + +<p> +The destroyer is racing back to the base: for the +mist has now cleared and high speed is once more +possible. +</p> + +<p> +Norah, in the tiny wardroom which has been +given up to the three passengers, is a prey to the +most poignant remorse and anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +She sits with bowed head, her eyes fixed in a +steady gaze yet seeing nothing; her arms, stretched +put limply before her with the clasped hands lying +in her lap would seem nerveless and lifeless but for +the perpetual wreathing and untwining of her +restless fingers, the outward symbol of the working +of her tortured brain. +</p> + +<p> +No gentle waking, this, no gradual realisation of +the truth by means of observations gathered here +and there and ideas slowly accumulating, such as is +granted to many a one whose whole life is changed +and reversed. Let this girl's past be condemned as +pitilessly as you will, yet there must be some pity +for the cruel shock of this blinding light that has +suddenly blazed in upon her darkened mind. +</p> + +<p> +Not two hours ago she was a devoted instrument +of righteous vengeance, vowed to a high task +whose awful nature inspired her all the more +deeply. +</p> + +<p> +Now, she sees very clearly the utter enormity of +the thing she had planned to do. She realises the +baseness of the deed itself, and the full extent of +the dreadful consequences of it. But most of all +she loathes and despises herself for having ever been +so warped and twisted mentally as not to have known +herself for what she was. +</p> + +<p> +Her self-scourgings are, as with most penitents in +the zeal of new conversion, laid on with too heavy a +hand. She is to blame, indeed, but not so greatly +as she now imagines, not so greatly as those who +have moulded her to their own evil pattern. The +truth was in her always, stirring to burst from this +false mould—else how has she broken free now at +the very moment when temptation was at its +strongest? +</p> + +<p> +Yet she will not spare herself nor accept a single +drop of the balm of self-pity. All excuses she +thrusts from her, before there is time for them to +become properly visualised. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>I did not do it—that at least is true.</i> +</p> + +<p> +"<i>But I meant to. Though I had days and weeks +to think it over, I really meant to do it. And even at +the very last moment, or almost, I still clung to my +purpose.</i> +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Yet—after all, I changed my mind.</i> +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Yes, but why? Was it because I saw the enormity +of the crime I was about to commit?</i> +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Partly that; but not altogether. It was through +an accident—the accident of a man looking at me in +the way he did. And if I was hindered merely by an +accident, then my real intention remains unchanged, +and I am as guilty as though the deed were actually +done.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +—And so on, in endless self-torment. +</p> + +<p> +Happily for her, she is not allowed to continue +without intermission in her bitter reflections. There +are two of the destroyer's officers, a +surgeon-probationer, and a midshipman, who are not on duty +and are therefore free to attend to the comfort and +well-being of their guests, a task which they feel it +incumbent upon them to perform with all the +hospitality at their command. +</p> + +<p> +These two seem to think they must lend their +presence and the consolations of cheerful small-talk +as much as possible; and although the +surgeon-probationer disappears from the little wardroom +from time to time in order to give an eye to Netta +who is lying exhausted in the destroyer captain's +cabin, he soon darts back again and joins the +midshipman in a well-meaning attempt at inducing +cheerfulness. +</p> + +<p> +It is an uphill task, certainly. Patrick is even +more silent and moody here than he was on board +the <i>Marathon</i>. He answers in gruff monosyllables +to such remarks as are addressed to him, and never +advances a single observation on his own account. +</p> + +<p> +So the two young officers soon give up the attempt +in his case, and turn all their energies upon Norah. +The more readily since beauty in distress is very +much more attractive than a surly unprepossessing +man, and there can be no doubt either of Norah's +distress or of her beauty. +</p> + +<p> +Patrick therefore, is left to the material consolations +of a whisky bottle and a soda syphon, which +his hosts feel confident must be what he needs in a +case like this. And it seems that they are not far +wrong, for the silent morose man does not decline +the proffered hospitality, but on the contrary pours +out for himself glass after glass—and the soda-water +disappears a good deal more slowly than the +whisky. +</p> + +<p> +Against her will, then, Norah is forced to join in +conversation; or rather to force herself to listen +with just sufficient attention to enable her to make +suitable replies when speech is demanded of her. +It is a trying ordeal for the unhappy girl; but a +merciful one in reality, for probably this enforced +concentration is just the one thing that keeps +madness at bay. +</p> + +<p> +Yet all the time she is consumed with a gnawing +anxiety. There is a question she would give almost +anything to be able to answer: +</p> + +<p> +She herself was providentially foiled in her dread +attempt; but—did Patrick succeed in bringing it +to completion? +</p> + +<p> +When he wrested the bomb from her grasp the +moment before the <i>Marathon's</i> officers came into +the wardroom, <i>what did he do with it?</i> +</p> + +<p> +She knows he could not have disposed of it in +the room itself; for they left on the instant, and +Patrick preceded her so that she was able to keep +her eyes on him the whole time. +</p> + +<p> +But afterwards? When they were out in the +less brightly lit alleyway? Or during the few +minutes' delay before they actually left the ship +to go on board the destroyer? +</p> + +<p> +There might have been an opportunity then; or +was such opportunity impossible on account of the +presence of other people and Patrick's ignorance of +his surroundings? +</p> + +<p> +He could not, surely, have just placed the bomb +in any chance spot, stooping quickly in an undetected +movement amidst the crowd. That would have been +to court discovery, almost to a certainty, and +Patrick would never be so simple as that. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, was it not possible that his quick eyes might +have been able to spy a hiding-place into which he +might slip his hand as he passed, behind an arm-rack, +under a steam-pipe, or some such likely corner? +If such a chance offered itself, be sure he must +have taken it! +</p> + +<p> +But oh, if only Norah could know for certain! +</p> + +<p> +Instead, the miserable girl has to listen and reply +to the kindly talk and questionings of her two +well-intentioned hosts. And, worse still, out of sheer +politeness she has to recount at their eager enquiry +all the wretched falsehood of the torpedoed steamer. +</p> + +<p> +To the ears of her auditors it is a romantic and +exciting tale of misadventure, and they press for the +story in its entirety. +</p> + +<p> +And Norah tells them. She is not going to make +a confession to these two young officers, whatever +she may do later. This, at any rate, is not the time +nor the place. And what other course is open to +her? +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, with wild abandonment she heaps up +the agony of the tale, repeating every detail of what +has been already told to the <i>Marathon's</i> officers, +and even adding more. +</p> + +<p> +She feels, rather than sees, the glaring eyes of +Patrick fixed upon her face as she fires off the rapid +narration of their pretended sufferings; and +somehow this keeps her from giving way to hysterical +shrieks and laughter as otherwise she would: but +the compelling glance restrains her. +</p> + +<p> +But at what an effort! And how thankful she is +when, at the end of it, her two listeners happen to +go out of the room both together for the first time, +and leave her alone with her cousin! +</p> + +<p> +This is the chance she has been waiting for. +Immediately, with one rapid backward glance to +make sure the two officers have really gone, she +strides quickly across to Patrick and grasping him +by the shoulder as though she would shake the +answer out of him, asks in a tense, quivering voice: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Patrick, <i>did</i> you do it? Tell me!" +</p> + +<p> +He shrinks from her grasp, and crouches back in +his chair, glancing upwards and sideways at the girl +standing over him. Hatred gleams from his +reddened eyes, the hatred of fanaticism made fiercer +by the unstinted whisky he has been drinking. It +is evident that he deems the girl a treacherous +renegade, and spurns her with loathing for her having +deserted the great Cause. +</p> + +<p> +"For why should I tell you anything, wretched +girl?" he mutters. "You would only use it to +betray me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Patrick, tell me, tell me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Curse you, keep away from me! I want no +speech with you, nor ever to set eyes on you again. +No kith or kin are ye of mine from this day on! +Leave me alone, I bid ye!" +</p> + +<p> +Nor will he deign to open his lips to say another +word. Norah gives a gesture of despair and with +drooping head goes back to her place. +</p> + +<p> +She had had her chance, and it has been of no +avail. A repetition of it is not to be hoped for, +even were there any hopes of its being of any use, +for the midshipman comes back again and soon his +fellow officer also joins him. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER IX +</h3> + +<p> +On board the <i>Marathon</i>, as she speeds once +more on her lawful occasions, fore and aft +throughout the ship all tongues are wagging +on the subject of the evening's occurrences. +</p> + +<p> +As a general rule, life on board a man-of-war at +sea passes without any incident worthy of remark; +and this is true to a great degree in war time, just +as much as in times of peace. Anything therefore, +so out of the common as this timely rescue of +shipwrecked people met just in the nick of time provides +welcome conversational material for every officer +and man; for naval men are, it is well known, the +biggest gossips in the world and can give points to +any charwoman in the art of discussing a bit of +news from every imaginable point of view. +</p> + +<p> +Dinner has been cleared away, and the topic +which has held sole sway all through the meal is +not yet exhausted. Stapleton alone has taken but +little part in the talk; he is remarkably silent, for +him—as a rule he can find plenty to say for himself. +But, as a matter of fact, he has not been listening +much to the chattering voices around him; his sole +thought is, how different the wardroom looks now +that it no longer holds the presence of his beloved. +</p> + +<p> +For she is his, he thinks. Surely he is not mistaken +in believing that Norah really did understand +him and was not entirely unmoved by his sudden +and violent love-making? When two affinities +meet like this, it is as though their souls have been +wandering through space for countless ages in the +endeavour to find each other; and when at last the +encounter takes place, it is inevitable that the truth +should come home with equal force to both of them. +So, at least, thinks Stapleton; and he is convinced +that Norah had not at any rate looked upon him +unkindly. For the rest, he will make sure of things +at their next meeting. +</p> + +<p> +But, good heavens! Why—the thought has not +struck him till this moment—in spite of all his +pressing entreaties. Norah never told him where +she might be found! Something happened—he +cannot remember exactly what it was—to change +the conversation, and she left the ship without +giving him any clue as to where he may meet her +again! +</p> + +<p> +So then, he has lost her. No—surely he will be +able to find out something when the ship returns +to the base, something that will enable him to trace +her even though it may turn out to be a long job. +So he plucks up heart again. +</p> + +<p> +These reflections are interrupted by a remark +from Merritt: +</p> + +<p> +"I say, that was a funny yarn of the fair-haired +one, wasn't it? I wonder how anyone could have +the imagination to invent such a pack of stuff!" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton pricks up his ears. "What yarn was +that?" he asks. +</p> + +<p> +Merritt is only too willing to repeat the story of +Netta's delirious ravings; but thinks it hardly fair +on the girl to give her away in the presence of so +many of the other officers; Stapleton is different—he +can be trusted not to spread the yarn. For +all his youthful simplicity Merritt has the delicacy +to realise that Netta would not be pleased if the +story should travel back to her: as he expresses it +in his own mind, it would make her feel such a silly +fool! +</p> + +<p> +So, with an apologetic "tell you presently," he +glides gracefully to another topic, and does not +return to Netta's wonderful revelations till the +wardroom is emptied of all but Stapleton, Dale and +himself. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, what about this yarn of yours that you +were so full of just now?" queries the first lieutenant. +</p> + +<p> +Merritt tells him. +</p> + +<p> +"What an absurd story," comments Stapleton, +when the other has come to the end of his +extraordinary narrative. "How on earth could the girl +get such weird ideas into her head?" +</p> + +<p> +"Purely and simply the result of the workings of +a brain thrown out of gear by physical suffering," +Dale informs him; "sub-conscious ideas come to +the surface under such conditions, and the memories +and fancies gleaned from books, conversations, and +a thousand similar sources weave themselves together +into a fabric which sometimes, as in this present +case, possesses a wonderful consistency." +</p> + +<p> +"Pity she couldn't invent something a little +more convincing while she was about it," smiles +Stapleton. +</p> + +<p> +"How do you mean? I thought it was rather a +good effort, for a piece of pure imagination." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, yes; all but one thing. Anybody that +had the slightest knowledge—real knowledge of the +subject, would never have made such a howler as to +talk of blowing up a ship with a bomb small enough +to be concealed in one's clothing. That's the weak +point of the story which gives it away at once." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't like to say that, +exactly. Modern developments in high explosives +have been pretty marvellous and according to what +I have read about these things I see no reason why +you shouldn't be able to pack into a cigarette-case +enough stuff to wreck all London." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, you could, certainly—in theory. But +when it comes to practice you find yourself up +against certain difficulties—the chief one being that +you would be almost dead sure to wreck yourself +first. Very powerful explosives are nothing new—take +fulminate of mercury, for instance; that is an +old discovery, yet so tremendously potent that a +teaspoonful of it would be sufficient to blow this +room to blazes." +</p> + +<p> +"If that's the case," asks Merritt, "why do you +say that a small-sized bomb couldn't be made with +enough of it to blow up a ship?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because, my son, all these very high explosives +are what is called very <i>unstable</i>, they won't stand any +knocking about. Why, supposing you had the +teaspoonful of fulminate I spoke about, it would +probably explode if someone were to slam the door +or even walk across the deck with a heavy tread. +So you see, you can't put stuff of that sort into +bombs and cart it round with you." +</p> + +<p> +Dale has an objection to make, as a scientist. +"What you say is true enough, Number One, but +only as far as our knowledge goes at present. There +has been a lot of progress made lately in these affairs +and what I say is that there is no reason why +someone should not have discovered a means of +overcoming the instability." +</p> + +<p> +"Someone such as——?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, possibly one of those German chemists; +a secret of that sort would be just the very thing +they would be all out to discover. It would make +a tremendous difference to them in this war. It +might, for instance, encourage them to attempt just +such a scheme as our imaginative young friend raved +about." +</p> + +<p> +"You speak as though you were not entirely +convinced that she was raving, Dale." +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton looks sharply at the surgeon as he snaps +out these words. The love which has sprung up in +his heart makes him keenly jealous of the least +shadow of a slur being cast upon anyone belonging +to her. +</p> + +<p> +"Not at all, not at all!" rejoins Dale; "as a +matter of fact, it was the evident absurdity of the +girl's story that convinced me of the <i>bona fides</i> of +the party." +</p> + +<p> +"What in the world do you mean?"—Stapleton +has all his hackles up now and is quite prepared to +take serious offence. +</p> + +<p> +"I mean," says Dale calmly, taking no notice +of his friend's annoyance, "that up to the time when +the girl chucked her fit I was rather inclined to think +there was something darned fishy about the whole +affair; but no one in his senses could concoct such +a marvellous yarn as that one about a bomb and a +plot and a motor-boat and all the rest of it, so as +soon as I heard it I knew that it was nothing but +delirium, and that proved to my mind that the three +of them had been through all that they said they +had." +</p> + +<p> +"And what was it, if I may ask, that made you +suspicious at first?" The first lieutenant is +properly on his high horse now. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, the air appears so threatening that the +assistant paymaster, not willing to be dragged into +a quarrel, thinks it opportune to make himself +scarce. He has indeed, a very good excuse, as he +is the ship's Intelligence Officer and it is time for him +to go to the office beneath the fore bridge where he +employs himself in that capacity. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton, left alone with Dale, presses the +question. +</p> + +<p> +"There were one or two things that didn't seem +quite to fit in, to my mind," Dale replies. +</p> + +<p> +"What things?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, one was that for people who had been +drifting all day in an open boat with hardly any +clothing to speak of, and in this weather, they didn't +strike me as being quite so much done in as one +might expect. The tall girl, the one you were so +chummy with, for instance——" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes? What about her?" almost ferociously. +</p> + +<p> +"Eh? What are you looking so shirty about? +I was only going to say that she didn't look as if she +had been under the weather to any extent. No +more did the man. Indeed, except for the fact that +they both had very red noses there didn't seem much +matter with either of them!" +</p> + +<p> +An indignant snort is Stapleton's reply. <i>Red +noses!</i> Norah's nose—<i>red</i>, indeed! He contrives +to smother his indignation, and remarks in an +unnaturally calm voice: +</p> + +<p> +"And the younger girl? Perhaps you thought +her, too, in a buxom state of health, what?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, of course not. That's just what I told you—it +was her evident condition of collapse which told +me that the others also must have really suffered +even if they didn't show it so much." +</p> + +<p> +"How very observant of you!"—Stapleton is +not showing the best side of his character now. It is +unlike him to sneer in this way, and to quarrel with +his old friend; but love is responsible, very often, +for upsetting people's tempers. +</p> + +<p> +"And what else did you notice that was +suspicious?" he goes on, still aggrieved. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, that was the chief thing. But there was +another little point also—didn't you notice it?—one +of 'em said their ship was torpedoed at five +o'clock, and the other, your girl, I think it was—said +seven." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>My girl!</i>" echoes Stapleton, now thoroughly +angry. "I can see no occasion for <i>coarseness</i> on your +part, Dale, and I'll thank you not to speak of the +lady again in that way!" A curious point to +quarrel about, since if there is one particular light +in which he regards Norah Sheridan it is undoubtedly +as <i>his girl</i>! But again, there is no accounting for +the whimsies of a man in love. +</p> + +<p> +"And what's more," continues the irate officer, +"I consider you no better than a suspicious-minded +busybody to entertain for a single moment such +ideas as these. They don't do you much credit, +I must say!" +</p> + +<p> +Dale is surprised at the other man's vehemence. +"All right, old man," he says kindly, "don't get +annoyed about it. Sorry if I've said anything to +offend you. Anyhow, I've got to go for'ard to the +sick bay now, so you can just calm down and forgive +me by the time I come back." +</p> + +<p> +He goes, leaving Stapleton still angry and +unappeased. +</p> + +<p> +Which is a very great pity. Stapleton remembers +this one-sided quarrel afterwards with bitter shame +and grief. +</p> + +<p> +For it is the last time he ever sets eyes on his old +friend. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER X +</h3> + +<p> +Half-an-hour later Stapleton is sitting in +his cabin in the after part of the ship. +</p> + +<p> +It is a pleasant little place to look at, +with its shining green-lacquered corticene deck and +the framed pictures against the white enamelled +bulkheads. In one respect it is very much like +every other naval officer's cabin; that is to say +it makes a subtle combination of elegance and +severity. +</p> + +<p> +The severity is provided by the plain Admiralty +furniture, which is designed rather for usefulness +and hard wear than for ornament. There is an +austere looking kneehole table at one side of the +cabin, and on the opposite side a plain rectangular +chest of drawers, made of steel painted to look like +mahogany and relieved by shining brass +drawer-handles. The end of the narrow room, otherwise +the ship's side end, where the round scuttle gives +light and air to the cabin, is completely filled with +a harrow bunk resting on top of a long cupboard +cunningly contrived with sliding shelves for holding +uniform and other personal gear. +</p> + +<p> +Everything is arranged with this same cunning +economy of space. For it must be understood that +his cabin is the sole apartment that an officer can +call his very own, reserved for his own private use, +and it has to fulfil the functions of bedroom, +drawing-room and study all combined in one. Witness +the round tin bath which hangs from the deck +overhead, suspended by iron hooks, and the little +mahogany two-shelf book-case at the foot of the bunk; +these are but a couple of the incongruities to be +found in that curious blend of rooms which constitutes +a cabin on board ship; and taken in conjunction +with the various adornments which the occupier +introduces to beautify the place, and give it a +little reminiscence of home, they certainly must +strike the eye of a stranger as very curious indeed; +but there is no denying that the combined result is +very attractive. +</p> + +<p> +But there is one point which Stapleton's cabin +offers a contrast to most of those belonging to his +brother officers throughout the navy; there is no +silver-framed photograph placed prominently upon +the kneehole table where the owner of the cabin, +when busied in making up his reports or in the more +pleasant task of writing home letters, can refresh +himself by letting his eyes rest from time to time +upon the beloved features of wife or sweetheart. +</p> + +<p> +No, Stapleton was speaking no more than the +truth when he told Norah that never before had he +looked with love into a woman's eyes. Possibly +this explains why he has now taken such a bold +and sudden header into the dangerous alluring +waters of desire; it very often happens that way, +doesn't it? +</p> + +<p> +Yet, although he has not before him anything +visible and tangible to remind him of his beloved, +he feels no need of any such outward assistance. +Sitting at his writing-table with one hand supporting +his head and the other stretched out idly before +him, he gazes upward with a fixed and rapturous +stare at the frosted bulb of an electric light on the +bulkhead in front of him; but it is quite evident +that his open eyes see nothing; nothing, that is, of +a mere material nature; their gaze is visualising, +by the magic of love, the face and form of that dark +beautiful girl who has come into his life. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it is as well that he does not see her as +she actually is, at this very moment, in the +wardroom of the destroyer! +</p> + +<p> +All his peevish annoyance with Dale has vanished +completely. As a matter of fact, he has quite +forgotten about it; and if Dale were to remind him +of it—and the surgeon, good-natured man, would +be the last person in the world to do such a thing—he +would probably ask with a laugh if it were really +possible that he could have made such a fool of +himself as to get annoyed with his best pal over so +trifling a matter. +</p> + +<p> +But he never gets this chance. The thing happens +with such terrible swiftness that for a moment it +is just a meaningless shock, too sudden for the brain +to comprehend. +</p> + +<p> +Darkness, and a dull roar: a tinkle of breaking +glass, and the deck rising beneath his feet; a sharp +blow on the back of his head with a swift concussion +of air which takes his breath away. All happening +in an instant. A bright purple light shines at the +back of Stapleton's eyes, changing quickly to a +vivid orange and dissolving into a million wandering +specks of fire. +</p> + +<p> +Then, as he picks himself up from the deck and +comes again to his senses, he realises that the electric +lights have gone out and he is in total darkness. +</p> + +<p> +All this happens in the veriest flash of time; and +even as he rises to his feet, the whole cabin is still +trembling, Stapleton realises the meaning of it, +and his brain is silently framing the +word— +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Torpedoed!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Speech comes thickly to his lips, and in a stupid +dazed fashion he keeps saying to himself, as he +fumbles and gropes his way to the door across the +overturned furniture, "<i>Torpedoed! My God, we've +got it this time: we're torpedoed!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +No need for the loud ringing calls of "Clear lower +deck," resounding everywhere. Stapleton himself +joins in the cry: but already the mess-deck ladders +are thronged with men filing upwards in a constant +stream. There is no crowding though, and no +confusion. The electric lights have been extinguished +here also, but a match struck here and there, soon +followed by a dozen more, make little points of light +in the general darkness, and a moment later the +emergency candle lamps are lit, and it is now possible +to see more or less clearly and to regulate better +the human traffic. +</p> + +<p> +"Steady, lads, steady—the old ship's not done +for yet," rings out the voice of Stapleton as he +makes his way swiftly along the mess-deck. "Everyone +on deck and get to your stations for abandoning +ship." +</p> + +<p> +There is seriousness on all faces—so far as they +can be seen in the feeble light of the candles which +cast thick massed shadows with Dantesque effect +upon the congregated men—but no sign of panic +or even of anxiety. The British Blue takes the +event with his invincible calmness as something +which is all in the day's work: he is even a little +elated and cheerful about it, or at any rate tries to +assume that appearance. +</p> + +<p> +It is this feeling that cheerfulness is the proper +thing under the circumstances which causes one +of the men to sing out the obvious "<i>Are we +down-hearted?</i>" And the immediate answering chorus +is cut short by the first lieutenant's: +</p> + +<p> +"That will do, lads. Quietly does it—keep your +breath, you may need it presently." +</p> + +<p> +He has made his way through the thronging +crowd of men, and at the foot of the ladder is assisted +by the stentorian voice of a petty officer which rings +out, "Gangway there! Make way there for the +first lieutenant!" He knows, as do all the men, +that if their officer wishes to force his way on +deck before the others it is not for the sake of +saving his own skin, but in order that he may +take charge of affairs and give orders for the safety +of all. +</p> + +<p> +From the moment of groping his way out of his +cabin till his foot steps over the hatchway coaming +on to the upper-deck less than a minute has elapsed. +But Stapleton already finds that the ship is down +by the head and fears the worst. +</p> + +<p> +Fortunately it is a clear moonlight night, and +almost as bright as day. That makes things easier, +as it is possible for all hands to get their places and +set about what has to be done with the least possible +difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he stands on the upper-deck Stapleton +finds himself facing one of the lieutenants. It is +Morley, who was officer of the watch during the last +doer, when that other exciting incident occurred, +an incident now forgotten and obliterated by a +greater happening. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is the captain—have you seen him +anywhere?" is Stapleton's first question. +</p> + +<p> +"Killed I believe. The foremast has gone over +the side and carried away the whole of the bridge. +What's left of it is on fire." +</p> + +<p> +Little need to say that; a cloud of thick +smoke obscures the fore part of the ship, and +even as Morley speaks a tongue of flame +leaps upward through the smoke, high into +the air. +</p> + +<p> +"Call away the fire party. Take a few hands +with you and go and see if there is anyone left alive +there—look out for yourself though. Here, +bugler"—the first lieutenant providentially descries a +passing bluejacket who is in fact looking for +him—"sound the Still." +</p> + +<p> +The clear notes of the bugle ring out, and there +is silence throughout the ship, fore and aft, save for +the roar and crackle of the gathering fire forward. +</p> + +<p> +"Send the carpenter to me at once." +</p> + +<p> +The warrant officer carpenter appears immediately +in response to the call, clattering down the foc'sle +ladder and running smartly along the deck to. +Stapleton. +</p> + +<p> +The latter's unspoken question is anticipated and +replied to in a few brief words. +</p> + +<p> +"Not a dog's chance, sir. There's a hole in her +side big enough to drive a wagon through. I give +her ten minutes at the most; but she may go any +moment." +</p> + +<p> +"Everybody up from the engine-room and stoke-hold. +Pass the word quickly," orders Stapleton +quietly. And in response to the order more men +come quickly pouring up on deck. +</p> + +<p> +The boats, meanwhile, have been swung outboard +and lowered part way down the ship's side. +</p> + +<p> +The vessel begins to lose her way; the engineer +officers, coming up last of all those down below, +have stopped the engines before leaving, and have +opened the valves so that from the escape-pipes at +the top of the funnels immense jets of steam pour +forth like thick white clouds into the air with a +deafening, vibrating roar. +</p> + +<p> +"Abandon ship! Everyone down into the +boats!" The ominous order is executed as though +at general drill, and the men make their way quietly +into the boats. Happily the ship is sinking by the +head and without any list to speak of, so there is +no difficulty about getting the boats into the water. +Morley comes back at this instant, and reports that +he has seen no one alive, nor indeed anyone at all, +alive or dead. +</p> + +<p> +"The whole place is blazing," he says, "there is +nothing left of it at all. The fore magazine must +have been touched off by the explosion of the +torpedo. As far as I can see, the foc'sle has been +blown off, or very nearly." +</p> + +<p> +"The foremost bulkhead has gone, and the ship +is filling quickly," adds the carpenter; the zealous +individual, reckless of his own safety, has been down +below again to make another inspection and see if +there is any chance at all of keeping the ship afloat. +At the first sign of the disaster, the unmistakable +sound of the explosion, the <i>Marathon's</i> one +remaining destroyer escort had circled round and raced +back to render assistance. Now she has stopped +her engines and lies abreast of the cruiser, half a +cable away. +</p> + +<p> +Her searchlights are turned on the sinking cruiser, +lighting up the deck and the men now swarming +down into the boats. +</p> + +<p> +"Shall I come alongside to take you off?" shouts +her commander through a megaphone. +</p> + +<p> +"No—keep away," answers Stapleton; "she may +blow up as she goes down. We will pull off to you. +Keep your searchlights on the water in case any of +our boats get into trouble." +</p> + +<p> +This is his last order. With a nod to the other +officers who are remaining by him on deck he signs +to them to get down into the boats. Last of all, he +leaves himself. +</p> + +<p> +Most of the boats are already pulling away in +the direction of the destroyer. Those which are still +alongside unhook from the falls as their officers +jump into them, and follow as fast as the oars can +strike the water. +</p> + +<p> +None too soon. Scarce is the last boat fifty yards +from the doomed ship when the <i>Marathon</i> plunges +forward and dips half her length into the water. +There is no further explosion—it is a quiet end for +the gallant ship. For a few seconds her stern +hangs poised almost perpendicular in the air; then, +with a forward glide, it sinks beneath the waves, +and the <i>Marathon</i> has disappeared for ever. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XI +</h3> + +<p> +It is the afternoon of the following day. A +brilliant clear afternoon without a cloud in the +sky, and warm sunshine flooding the calm blue +sea and making the distant cliffs and islands of the +naval base appear as though they were made of +delicately tinted enamels. Such days are not +infrequent in autumn even in the far north of +Scotland; they make a sort of fairy midsummer +at a time when the icy fingers of winter are already +fast closing their grip upon the land. +</p> + +<p> +In the sunshine it is quite hot; but directly one +steps into the shade one feels the chilly nip in the +air, tingling and bracing. +</p> + +<p> +That is why the matronly lady who has just +dragged a couple of deck-chairs across the grass +from a building near by is careful to place them +well out in the sunlight, giving a careful glance to +make sure that no neighbouring shadow in its swift +advance shall presently cover the spot she has +chosen. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Shaw prides herself on being thoughtful +about little details of this sort. And, indeed, her +pride is thoroughly justified, for she is an extremely +capable lady as all her friends are willing to admit, +even though they may sometimes add that she is a +trifle fussy. +</p> + +<p> +However, her fussiness is always of a kindly type, +like that of a motherly hen in charge of a big brood +of chicks. And the chicks which are dearer to her +heart than any others are those big ones whose +plumage is the dark blue of the British sailor. +</p> + +<p> +"What ever will you do now, without all your +beloved sailor-boys to look after?" said her friends +when the first outbreak of war suddenly spirited +away the fleet and emptied the streets of our seaport +towns of all those fine lads whose neat blue rig had +up till then made an ever welcome relief to the +sombre suits of the civilians. +</p> + +<p> +"What will I do?" replied the energetic lady, +"why, go after 'em, to be sure!" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, but <i>how</i>? Do you think the Admiralty +will let you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Hm! If I want to go and be with my boys +and the Admiralty stand in my light, well, so much +the worse for the Admiralty, that's all I've got to +say about the matter. But they won't stand in my +way—you can always bluff these official people, if +you know the right way to set to work about it!" +</p> + +<p> +"And what is the right way, Mrs. Shaw?" +</p> + +<p> +"Meet officialdom with officialdom. If I were to +request permission to go in a private capacity to run +a home for sailors at one of their precious secret +bases, I should only get a polite snub and a very +definite refusal. But if I can persuade one of the +big societies to let me join up with them—well, I'll +stand the racket and the society can take the credit +so long as it lends its name and patronage. That'll +do the trick, I'll be bound!" +</p> + +<p> +The event proved that Mrs. Shaw's psychology +was not at fault. Very few ladies can boast of being +present with the fleet in the early days of the war +and of sharing the secrets of the fleet's hiding-places; +but Mrs. Shaw and her helpers were amongst those +few. +</p> + +<p> +Her hut, the constant rendezvous of hundreds of +bluejackets, bore the name of a deservedly +well-known society painted in big letters across its tin +roof; but to the men who frequented it and found +in it a real home it was known by no other name +than that of "Mother Shaw's." +</p> + +<p> +"Mother Shaw's" has been an established +institution on the island for a long time now; but +Mother Shaw herself has never yet had to undertake +a job so much out of her ordinary line as +that which is occupying her this sunny autumn +afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +Having arranged the two deck-chairs with most +precise care, she goes back to the hut and emerges +again with her arms laden with rugs and cushions. +These also seem to need the skill of a master-mind +to get them into just the exact position, for +Mrs. Shaw arranges and re-arranges them with many a +pat and a pull before they are settled entirely to her +satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Once more she makes the short journey to the +hut. This time she stays longer inside; and when +she reappears she comes out arm in arm with a tall +dark girl who seems glad of her support. +</p> + +<p> +It is Norah Sheridan. She is very pale. The +strain of all she has been through has left its mark +upon her. Yet she holds herself gallantly, and +though the drawn lips indicate the shame and +anxiety still gnawing at her heart she does her best +to smile her gratitude for Mrs. Shaw's kindly +mothering, and speaks bravely and cheerfully—when she +can get a word in edgeways, which to tell the truth +is not very often. +</p> + +<p> +She is dressed in a plain tweed costume which fits +her graceful figure to a marvel—better, indeed, than +the girl for whom it was originally made, one of +Mrs. Shaw's young helpers who has come to the aid +of Norah's distinctly sketchy wardrobe. +</p> + +<p> +The older woman settles her young charge into a +deck chair, covering her knees with a thick rug and +arranging cushions behind her shoulders and head. +Then she stands off and with a kindly scrutiny +reviews her work. +</p> + +<p> +Apparently it satisfies even her exacting nature. +</p> + +<p> +"There now, my dear," the good lady announces, +giving the cushions just one more pat, "I think +you'll be snug enough like that! Don't I make a +good nurse? I ought to, considering the number of +times I've had to nurse my own daughter, a delicate +girl of just about the same age as you, my dear, +but not nearly as good-looking, she takes after me, +the plain but useful type. It takes all sorts to make +a world, doesn't it? We can't all be good-looking! +Now, my husband was a very handsome man, and +my boys are exactly like him; I only had the one +girl, and she must needs go and turn after me! +Often the way, haven't you noticed it? It does +seem a shame—what do boys want with good +looks? They can get on perfectly well without +'em, whereas the girls, poor things—but there, I +managed to get married in spite of my face, so +perhaps it doesn't really matter so much, after all! +As for you, I don't think girls of your type ought +to be allowed at large at all—you're a positive danger +to society!" +</p> + +<p> +Norah starts, and her hands grip the sides of her +chair. Her pale face goes a shade paler still. +Mrs. Shaw's well-intentioned flattering words have come +home to her in a sense that was far from the speaker's +thoughts! +</p> + +<p> +"Why, what's the matter with you, child?" the +observant lady remarks, "Cushions not very +comfortable? There, that'll be better. Another one +just here under your back? No? Don't mind +saying so if you would really like one, I can easily +get it for you. Dear me, I can see I shall have +to take my broom to keep off all the young +naval officers from this place, or else you'll be +wrecking the peace of mind of the whole lot of +'em!" +</p> + +<p> +"Do the officers come ashore here then, Mrs. Shaw? +I was hoping that we might just remain +here quietly and see nobody until we can get away +and go home." +</p> + +<p> +"You need not see anyone if you really don't +wish to do so, my dear. I can always say you are +not well enough—and it won't be much of a fib +either, because you certainly do look a poor wisht +creature, and I don't wonder at it after what you +have been through. But as soon as it begins to get +known that you are here I know I shall have my +work cut out! I have three girls helping me here, +and you would be astonished at the number of naval +officers who drop in to tea at the hut now; they +never used to come before those girls arrived on +the scene! Of course, they all say that it is me +they come to see, the monkeys!" +</p> + +<p> +"I hope I shan't see anyone. I don't want to," +repeats Norah in a plaintive little voice. +</p> + +<p> +"No? Well, you shan't then, dear. Of course +not. I'm not surprised at your wanting to be as +quiet as you can, after such a dreadful experience. +Fancy your being picked up by the <i>Marathon</i>! I +have a nephew on board that ship—a dear boy he is, +too!" +</p> + +<p> +"Have you, Mrs. Shaw? Which is he? I +wonder if he was one of those I saw?"—Norah +somehow has a presentiment of what the answer is +going to be. It was too much to hope for that she +might flee away and hide in obscurity. Fate was +bound to weave its cruel net of complications around +her feet; but oh, the irony of it, that this kind +motherly soul should be the one to commence the +dreaded weaving! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XII +</h3> + +<p> +"Alick Stapleton is my nephew's name. +He is the first lieutenant of the ship, so +naturally you must have met him. What +did you think of him? Isn't he a dear fellow?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, was that your nephew, Mrs. Shaw, the first +lieutenant? Yes, I did meet him. He was very +kind to me—to all of us. Indeed, I don't know +what I should have done if it had not been for +him!" +</p> + +<p> +This is not quite strictly true. Norah does know +very well what she would have done if it had not +been for Alick Stapleton: and even as she utters +these words of gratitude she is fully aware of the +sinister inner meaning which they conceal. +</p> + +<p> +"I can quite imagine it!" answers Mrs. Shaw +briskly. "I daresay he was good to you, the wicked +scamp! In my opinion, it is a very good thing that +the <i>Marathon</i> will be away for some little time. +I'm quite certain that if Alick were only to see you +as you are looking now he would fall in love with +you at once, with those eyes of yours! Well, well, +I'm a garrulous old woman, am I not? Gossiping +here like this when I ought to be working. Though +you know, my dear, I look upon you as an out-and-out +fraud!—Cushion slipping again? How you do +start! Nerves, I suppose. You must be in a +weaker state than I imagined; I was just going to +say that I didn't think there was really very much +the matter with you. You're one of the strong kind, +not like your—your cousin, didn't you say she is? +Poor girl, in a perfect state of collapse ever since +she was carried on board that destroyer last +night—and I'm sure I don't wonder at it!" +</p> + +<p> +"But she is better now, Mrs. Shaw, isn't she? +Thanks to your kindness. May I not see her +presently? Or isn't she well enough for that +yet?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes, my dear, certainly you shall see her. +That's really the reason why I've brought you out +here, more for her sake than yours. As soon as I +can get her dressed I'm going to fetch her out here +and fix her up in this chair by your side, and you +can have a good talk to each other. I thought it +best to keep her in bed all the morning, and she has +been sleeping all the time till an hour ago, which +proves I was right in keeping her there." +</p> + +<p> +"Will she be ready soon? I should so like to see +her!" +</p> + +<p> +"Very soon now. Fortunate, wasn't it, that the +girls who are helping me were able to rig you out +with some of their clothes? You would have looked +funny if you had had to get into some of mine!" +</p> + +<p> +"You have all been awfully kind. And there is +just one thing more I should like—couldn't you give +me something to do while I'm sitting out here? +I am quite strong and well, really I am. There is +nothing the matter with me—except that I cannot +bear to sit still, alone, with my thoughts; it is +quite unendurable! Couldn't I do something?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense, my dear, you must really try and +be more cheerful. I declare, you're looking utterly +miserable! You simply must make an effort to calm +yourself, you know! And, if you want something +to do, you might go on with these sea-boot stockings +for me. Can you knit?" +</p> + +<p> +With a woman like the indefatigable Mrs. Shaw +one outlet for her energies is not enough; so even +while she is busying herself about the thousand and +one things connected with the management of the +sailors' hut she generally carries about with her a +piece of knitting to occupy her tireless fingers. +</p> + +<p> +She has just such a piece now, and pulls it out +from one of her ample pockets and offers it to her +patient, who grasps it eagerly, exclaiming: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, yes, I can knit. Let me have the stockings, +do!" +</p> + +<p> +"They are for our poor sailors," says Mrs. Shaw, +beaming with motherly kindness as she hands over +the work; "I am sure you can sympathise with +them in all they have to go through, now that you +have experienced a little of it yourself. I always +feel that we can never do enough for them. +Remember, what would be the fate of us women if it +were not for our sailors—<i>and</i> our soldiers, God bless +them! And so many of them have given up their +lives for us, poor gallant lads. Killed, maimed, +blown up, burnt, drowned——" +</p> + +<p> +Norah springs to her feet, trembling all over, +thrusting out her hands as if to ward off some unseen +evil. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, don't, don't!" she cries wildly. "Can I +not forget such horrors for one single moment? +Why must you remind me of them?" Then she +sinks back into her chair again, and seems to be +ashamed of having given way to such emotion; +for she adds in a quieter voice, "Oh, forgive me, +Mrs. Shaw. I did not mean to be rude to you, +really I didn't. But I am—my nerves are——" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, of course, poor lamb! You are not +so strong as you think you are. I am a foolish old +woman, and ought to have had more sense! Hallo, +there's someone coming!" +</p> + +<p> +Norah follows with her eyes the direction in which +Mrs. Shaw has turned her head. From the landing-place, +out of sight beneath the slope of the hill two +men are approaching, two naval officers. At first, +only their heads and shoulders are visible; but as +they mount the hill and come more into view they +are recognised by Mrs. Shaw as the admiral in +charge of the base and his secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, can't I get away somewhere? I don't +want to meet anybody!" cried Norah in distress +at the prospect of having to talk to strangers—especially +strangers who may ask awkward questions! +</p> + +<p> +But Mrs. Shaw will not listen to anything of the +sort. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, child," she reassures her, "you need not +mind these two. In fact, I think you really ought +to see them, they have evidently come to enquire +for you. It's only Admiral Darlington, such a +<i>nice</i> man! And his secretary too, Mr. Dimsdale, +a charming fellow and a most able man—but a +thorough woman hater. It even makes him nervous +to talk to an old woman like myself; and I think +he would run a mile sooner than talk to a pretty +girl like you!" +</p> + +<p> +"Not like most <i>naval</i> men, then, is he?" smiles +Norah, endeavouring to act a cheerful part, though +her own sinking heart knows well enough that it is +only acting. +</p> + +<p> +"Ha! Mrs. Shaw, good afternoon, good afternoon," +the admiral hails her as soon as he gets within +earshot. "So I see you've got one of your patients +out in the sunshine. That's good—nothing like +sunshine and fresh air to bring back the roses into +pale cheeks." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Admiral," replies the good lady, "and I +was just going this very moment to fetch the other +one out too. Miss Sheridan, let me introduce +Admiral Darlington, and Mr. Dimsdale. +</p> + +<p> +"Now you know one another, and I can leave you +for a few minutes while I get the other poor thing. +Now, Mr. Dimsdale, you must be entertaining. Try +and brighten her up a little; she wants rousing! +Well, I'll be off now." And so saying she bustles off +to the hut, full of energy and kindness as usual. +</p> + +<p> +Admiral Darlington settles himself comfortably +in the vacant deck chair at Norah's side, and to +judge by the satisfied appearance of his beaming face +is thoroughly pleased with the situation. It is a +long time since he has had the opportunity of talking +to such a pretty girl as this, and the gallant old +sea-dog is ready to make the most of the chance. +</p> + +<p> +The secretary, however, is left standing awkwardly +in face of the seated pair. He looks rather +a forlorn sight. So much so that the wicked old +admiral chuckles inwardly at his discomfiture, and +slyly says: +</p> + +<p> +"You can sit on the ground, Dimsdale. It won't +hurt you, you are younger than I am. Besides, +it's the correct thing for youth to bask at the feet +of beauty!" +</p> + +<p> +"I—I'd rather stand, thank you. I'm quite +comfortable like this, thank you," stammers the +unhappy secretary. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, if the conversation can only be confined to +pleasantries and small-talk, thinks Norah. +Anything, rather than that it should veer round to +herself and her experiences! So, with an effort, she +continues to act her part: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Mr. Dimsdale, please do sit down. Perhaps +you are afraid of the damp? You can have a +corner of my rug to sit on, if you like. Isn't that +nice of me?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no, not at all, not at all!—I mean—yes, +very. But really, I'd rather stand." +</p> + +<p> +"I see," answers Norah, "I quite understand. +No giving way to idleness—the alert, active +temperament—always ready for instant action. I, +expect you are just longing for an engagement, +aren't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"An <i>engagement</i>?" cries the thoroughly flustered +secretary. "No, certainly not! Oh, I see +what you mean—yes, yes, of course—stupid of me—I +should love to be engaged. I mean—dear me, how +very oppressive it is this afternoon. Quite hot, +isn't it? I think, sir, I had better be getting back +to the ship to write out that report for you." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, no hurry, Dimsdale, no hurry at all," +answers the wicked admiral. "In fact, I don't even +know what report you are talking about. But whatever +it is I am quite sure it can perfectly well wait +for a while. You don't come ashore often enough; +and now that you <i>are</i> out of the ship for once you +may as well stay and get the benefit of the fresh +air." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, <i>do</i> stay," adds Norah's voice, which can be +meltingly persuasive when she tries to make it so. +In this instance the earnestness is not altogether +assumed; three's company, two's none, when it +is a question of a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"It's—it's rather cold out of doors this afternoon, +sir. I think I'd better be getting back to +the ship." +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense, man, nonsense," says Admiral +Darlington. "You can stay awhile, surely. We'll +go back together, presently." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Dimsdale," insinuates Norah, "I should +think that you—all of you—must find it very trying +to be cooped up on board a ship month after month +all by yourselves and never having any ladies' +society, don't you?" +</p> + +<p> +This is a subject on which the secretary can be +really eloquent. His face quite lights up as he +replies: +</p> + +<p> +"I never enjoyed being in the Navy so much +before in all my life!" And then, suddenly awaking +to the enormity of these sentiments, he tries to cover +it by adding, "Oh, I don't mean that, I mean it's +very——" +</p> + +<p> +"It's perfectly damnable, Miss Sheridan. Tut, +tut, perfectly dreadful, I should say," breaks in the +admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"I am sure it must be," smiled the girl. "How +beautiful it is to sit here, Admiral Darlington, with +such a view, and all these ships to look at." +</p> + +<p> +The admiral's beaming face becomes suddenly +grave and thoughtful, as he lifts his eyes to rest them +on those distant ships lying at anchor which his +young companion has remarked as a beautiful sight. +</p> + +<p> +"It is something more than beautiful," he says +meaningly; "it is an impressive sight—next to the +Grand Fleet itself, perhaps the most impressive +sight to be seen anywhere on the seas at this present +moment! When you go home, Miss Sheridan, you +will be able to tell your friends that you have seen +some of those ships that stand between Germany +and her monstrous dreams of world-power. Were +it not for the Fleet, the war would have come to an +end long ago, with Europe blackened and devastated, +crushed under Germany's iron heel. Look well at +those ships, young lady. They are just a part of the +protecting shield that keeps our country from the +invader. His foot will never defile our shores so +long as the Fleet is above water!" +</p> + +<p> +This is trying enough to Norah's ears, but not so +bad as it might be. +</p> + +<p> +And, to her great relief and joy, Mrs. Shaw +rejoins the group at this moment, with Netta. The +two girls meet in a close embrace with hurried, +whispered greetings. No time for confidences now, +for Mrs. Shaw is already clucking over her chickens. +</p> + +<p> +"Here is our other patient, Admiral," she says; +"Not very strong yet, I'm afraid. We shall have +to take great care of her for a few days, before she +will be fit to travel." +</p> + +<p> +"She can't be in better hands than yours, +Mrs. Shaw," replies the admiral gallantly. "I hope, +young ladies, you will consider yourselves the guests +of the British Navy for as long as you like. We shall +be only too delighted to do what little we can for you, +knowing what you women have done to alleviate +the hardships of us sailormen. We can never repay +what we owe to you!" +</p> + +<p> +How sharp is the stab which such a kindly hand +can deal unknowingly. It is more than Norah can +bear. +</p> + +<p> +"You too?" she cries, hiding her face in her +hands. "Must everyone remind me?" +</p> + +<p> +"Remind you?" echoes the admiral, slightly +puzzled. "Oh, of your sex's kindness towards the +Navy, you mean. Well, my dear young lady, +you will have to accustom yourself to being thanked +for that. I can tell you, we shall never forget what +you have done. Mrs. Shaw, let us leave these young +people for a few minutes; I have something I want +to say to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, Admiral," assents the good lady, +a little surprised, but nevertheless allowing him to +lead her away where they can talk without being +overheard. "Is it anything I can do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it was not merely to enquire for these two +poor things that I came ashore this afternoon. I +have something rather serious to tell you, something +that I don't want anybody to know. But it is only +right that you should hear it." +</p> + +<p> +"Not about Alick?" anxiously asks the other, +clutching her companion's arm. +</p> + +<p> +"Your nephew is quite safe; you can be perfectly +easy in your mind about him. But his ship, the +<i>Marathon</i>—however, come a little further away, +where we can be sure they won't hear us. We +don't want the matter to become public property +yet, you understand." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XIII +</h3> + +<p> +Besides all her other anxieties, there is still one +further question that has been exercising +Norah's mind—what has become of her cousin +Patrick? For she has not seen him since they landed +together from the destroyer which brought them all +back to the base. She and Netta were taken at once +to the island where Mrs. Shaw presided over the +hut, as the one place where they could be cared for by +members of their own sex. But as for Patrick, he +was disposed of somewhere else. Norah does not +know where; so now she finds her opportunity to +ask. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Dimsdale, can you give me any news of my +cousin, Mr. Sheridan?" +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Sheridan? Oh, he is in the Depôt ship for +the present. I believe it was his wish to go South +to-morrow by himself, and to send for you ladies +as soon as you are well enough to undertake +the journey. I believe the plan is altered now—I +should say, I believe he has made a different +arrangement since this morning. I'm afraid I really +must be getting away, if you will be good enough to +excuse me. I am very busy this afternoon; heaps +of work waiting for me in my office." +</p> + +<p> +Netta raised her eyes to him—and very pretty +grey eyes they are, too, and anxiously enquires: +</p> + +<p> +"You have seen my brother, then, have you? +When was it you saw him? How was he? Did +he ask for us?" +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale finds it a little difficult to reply to all +these questions at once; but manages to say: +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, and I expect you would like to see him too. +Shall I go and tell him so? I can go right away +and do it now, if you like. I can—easily. I have +nothing particular to do this afternoon." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, no," cries Netta, shrinking from the ordeal +of having to face her terrible brother, "don't let +him come here!" +</p> + +<p> +The secretary eyes her very sympathetically, and +is evidently affected by her distress. +</p> + +<p> +"He needn't come, if you're not feeling up to it," +he replies encouragingly. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that is it," Netta tells him, glad to be given +a ready-made explanation of what might seem an +unnatural reluctance to see her brother. "I am not +strong enough just now. Perhaps it would be better +for him to go on by himself as he suggests." +</p> + +<p> +"But <i>I</i> want to see him," Norah breaks in, "I +<i>must</i> see him, and as soon as possible." +</p> + +<p> +It really is rather trying for poor Dimsdale to +arrange matters so as to please these two young +ladies who hold such very opposite and very exacting +views! He can only follow the line of least resistance, +and promise the last speaker exactly what she +asks. This is the easiest way out of it for him, and +so he proceeds to tell Norah that she shall certainly +have her wish and see her cousin at once. +</p> + +<p> +"Not to-day; not to-day!" the agitated Netta +appeals. +</p> + +<p> +"Very well then, to-morrow? To-morrow morning? +I'll arrange it. I really <i>must</i> go and find the +admiral; I am sure he wants me. Some very +important business!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Mr. Dimsdale," Norah tells him, "if you +will please arrange for my cousin to come here +to-morrow morning I shall be very grateful." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll go and see about it this very minute," +answers the much harassed secretary, seeing at last +a chance of escape: "I'll go right off to the Depôt +ship at once. Good morning—good afternoon, I +mean. Good afternoon!" +</p> + +<p> +And, after a few hasty strides in quite the wrong +direction, he recovers himself sufficiently to know +where he wants to go, and turns about, disappearing +presently towards the landing-place. +</p> + +<p> +Norah follows him with laughing eyes. "Poor +man!" she whispers, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +But Netta has a haunting fear which does not +allow her to share in her cousin's amusement. She +turns to her at once, gasping out: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Norah, at last I've got a chance to speak +to you! Tell me, did you do it, did you do it?" +</p> + +<p> +No need to specify further her meaning. Norah +knows, and at once gives her answer. +</p> + +<p> +"No, Netta, I did not. I meant to do it—indeed, +up to the very last moment I fully intended to; but +then I—I altered my mind!" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, thank God! But—why?" +</p> + +<p> +"I do not know. No, that is not quite true; I +do know why. Let me at least have the honesty to +speak the truth to you, even though it is to my +own shame! A woman who had the fixed intention +of becoming a wholesale murderess ought not to +shrink from putting off a little of her maiden modesty. +I did not set the bomb, because of—because of one +man." +</p> + +<p> +"What man, Norah? That young officer who +was so kind in looking after you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. He was so good to me, and so merry-hearted. +And all the time while he was taking care +of me with such tenderness—with his gay, light +chatter, which I could see well enough was only +meant to keep me from breaking down—all that +time I kept saying to myself, <i>I am going to kill you +soon; in a few hours you will lie lying a burnt and +mangled corpse at the bottom of the sea; and it is my +hand that is going to send you there!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Netta gives a low moan, burying her face in her +hands; only looking up again after a pause to say: +</p> + +<p> +"Horrible! I know! <i>I</i> felt like that almost from +the beginning, even before we started out. But you +have always been so much more strong-minded +than I am. I quite thought that <i>you</i> would have +allowed nothing to hinder you—nothing, no one!" +</p> + +<p> +"No one but this man alone could have done so, +I believe," solemnly answers the other girl. +</p> + +<p> +"What! Do you mean——? You <i>fell in love</i> with +him, then? Norah! <i>You</i>!" +</p> + +<p> +"I do not know. Oh, why do you ask me that +question! But I will make a clean breast of it all, +to you. Yes, I think I did. But, all the same, it +was not on his account alone that I held my hand +at the last moment." +</p> + +<p> +"But I thought you said——?" +</p> + +<p> +"I mean—yes, I <i>would</i> have refused for his sake +alone; but it was not <i>only</i> that. It was—yes, I +suppose it must have been love; love, that made +me wake up and see what a terrible thing it was that +I was about to do. And then, all those other lives +suddenly seemed to me just as precious as"—very +softly come her closing words—"as his!" +</p> + +<p> +"But what became of the bomb?" enquires +Netta, who not being in love herself has now become +the more practical-minded of the two. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah," Norah replies despondingly, "that is just +what I would give anything to know! Patrick +snatched it from me, just as I was going to fling it +overboard, and at that very moment the officers +came into the room. Whether Patrick was able to +put it down somewhere afterwards, I cannot tell. +I am so afraid he <i>may</i> have found an opportunity. +But I hope not; indeed, I am almost sure he did not." +</p> + +<p> +"You are sure of that, you say? Oh, I am so glad!" +</p> + +<p> +"No, not <i>quite</i> sure. That is just the haunting +dread I still feel. And, that, too, is just why I must +see him, to find out definitely." +</p> + +<p> +"But haven't you asked him already?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I tried to, but he would not speak to me +on board the destroyer. He is angry with me, and +looks on me as a traitress to the cause—as I suppose +I am. But he <i>must</i> tell me what he did!—<i>Look!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Her voice has suddenly altered to one of intense +alarm and surprise. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Look!</i>" she repeats, clutching at her cousin's +arm, and gazing wildly down the path. "It is——" +</p> + +<p> +Netta has seen too; and she also needs no second +glance to recognise the man who has approached +unnoticed until he is quite near them. +</p> + +<p> +It is Alick Stapleton. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XIV +</h3> + +<p> +Lieutenant-Commander Stapleton +advances with smiling face and outstretched +hand towards two very frightened girls. He +is quite aware that they would have cause indeed to +feel alarmed if they really knew of the disaster that +has happened to the <i>Marathon</i>; but he is also +aware that they are in ignorance of this occurrence—and +it is up to him to keep them so. Why should +they be made to feel this additional shock, after +all their sufferings? +</p> + +<p> +So his first greeting is a cheery— +</p> + +<p> +"So I have found you! And given you a fright +at the same time, eh? You did not expect to see +me again so soon, I suppose? But, as a matter of +fact, our cruise was unexpectedly shortened, and I +got ashore not so very long after you did." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I am so glad, so glad!" Netta exclaims, +with the most obvious relief and joy beaming in her +pretty grey eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"That's very good of you to say so," returns +Stapleton, a little dryly; knowing that the loss of +the <i>Marathon</i> is at present a secret he is somewhat +at a loss to account for this ebullition of gladness. +</p> + +<p> +There is rather an awkward pause; and Stapleton's +usually ready wit fails him when he searches +in his mind for the appropriate thing to say next. +Netta's uncalled for expressions of joy have made +things just a little difficult for him. +</p> + +<p> +Happily, the situation is relieved from an +unexpected quarter, Mrs. Shaw coming into view and +running—yes, running, and with rather shaky steps, +towards her nephew. +</p> + +<p> +"Why—there's—oh, Alick, my boy, my boy!" +she cries, hugging him close, then holding him off +to take a good look at him, and then hugging him +again. +</p> + +<p> +"Hallo, Auntie!" laughs the young man, recovering +his self-possession, "why you seem all of a +tremble like! Got a job of work to do, or what's +affecting you?" +</p> + +<p> +"You cheeky fellow!" is all she answers him: +all she answers him openly, that is; for still holding +him in her embrace, she finds opportunity to whisper +in his ear: +</p> + +<p> +"Hush, I know all about it. I've just seen your +admiral. Remember, not a word to these two!" +</p> + +<p> +And then, speaking in her natural tones and +turning towards the girls: +</p> + +<p> +"This bad nephew of mine is always giving me +the most dreadful shocks! Coming back so soon, +when I thought he was hundreds of miles away! +Everyone well on board the <i>Marathon</i>, Alick?" +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, Auntie." Stapleton cannot bring +himself to play up to the good soul's sly acting +quite so well as she would like; but he does his +best. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm very glad indeed to hear that," Netta tells +him. "You were all so good to us." So great is her +reaction and relief of mind that she cannot help +repeating her sentiments. And she looks so very +much in earnest about it; her face grows quite +pale as she speaks the simple words. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Shaw notices this. "Why, child," she +observes, "you're looking quite upset! You must +have been allowing yourself to get over-excited—now +don't tell me you haven't! You had better +come indoors and lie down in the shade for a little +while; I was half afraid it might be too much for +you out here. Alick, you may stay a little and talk +to Miss Norah, and then come in and see me before +you go back. But don't stay too long, and mind +you don't get her excited too!" +</p> + +<p> +Not unwillingly, Netta obediently takes the good +woman's proffered arm, and rising from her chair +goes to seek the friendly shelter of her room in the +hut. Indeed, it is quite true that what she has just +now seen and heard has been rather overcoming. +She has seen Stapleton alive, and heard from his +lips that all on board the <i>Marathon</i> are safe and +sound. Norah also has told her that she did not +leave the bomb in the ship; and, obviously, Patrick +could not have done so either, since no misadventure +has occurred. Now, she reflects, Norah's mind as +well as her own can be at rest; and nothing remains +but to get away as soon as can be arranged and try +and live down the memory of this nightmare, taking +up some quiet useful walk in life far away from +Patrick's dreadful environment. All that will be +easy, now that this gigantic load has been removed +from their lives. +</p> + +<p> +So thinks Netta, as she departs with her kind +friend. And as she rests on the couch where +Mrs. Shaw places her with much kind fussing and many +injunctions to lie still and rest, she is able already +to indulge in rosy visions of the future. +</p> + +<p> +She does not sleep, but just lies motionless with +wide-open eyes, and there is a trace of a smile +lingering still on her lips. This happy, peaceful +face is very different to the care-worn countenance +she was wearing but half an hour ago. Like a child, +she seems able to put off very quickly the horrors +of the past as soon almost as they have gone, and +to forget them utterly. Her conscience has never +approved of the dreadful deed in which she was to +have taken part—and, in fact, did take part up to +a certain point; but then, her conscience was a +very small factor in comparison with the iron force +of her brother's compelling will, and it never really +had a chance to assert itself. +</p> + +<p> +Now, however, she is happy in the thought that +events have turned out just as she would really +have willed them to: it seems almost a miracle, +and too good to be true, but the fact remains that +she never wanted to blow up the ship, and the ship +has not been blown up. +</p> + +<p> +So Netta suffers no mental agonising like that +of Norah's, whose purpose has only been broken +down by one fearful blow after another. +</p> + +<p> +So she rests with peaceful mind, and begins even +now to build up hopeful plans for the better days +to come. +</p> + +<p> +Amongst these happy visions there is one that +shapes itself very clearly and in the brightest colours: +her cousin Norah must surely blend her life with that +of the man who has won her heart. Why, the two +are even now at this very moment sitting side by +side and exchanging close confidences: from this +it can only be a step to that chapter of their life +story which closes with the words "and they lived +happily ever after." What could be simpler or +better than this? There is nothing in the world +to prevent it, thinks Netta; and, having thoroughly +settled this pleasing conclusion to her own complete +satisfaction, she at last closes her eyes and falls +into a happy slumber. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XV +</h3> + +<p> +Norah, meanwhile, is left alone with Stapleton. +</p> + +<p> +She has given him no response to his cheery +greetings, not even a smile, and looks at him with +a serious and mystified air. +</p> + +<p> +The question which is on her lips finds utterance +immediately Mrs. Shaw and Netta have gone out +of hearing; she puts it slowly and earnestly: +</p> + +<p> +"How did you come ashore?" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton laughs away her seriousness, or tries +to; "I heard you were here, and I came to see +you," he answers readily. +</p> + +<p> +"I don't mean that—you know I don't!" Her +earnestness deepens into an anxious craving for the +truth, as the quivering voice betrays when she adds +the direct question. +</p> + +<p> +"Why was your cruise cut short? And when +did you get in?" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton is not the man to be cornered so easily +as this, however, and finds a way to evade the +awkward interrogation with every appearance of +frankness: +</p> + +<p> +"Now you are asking me to tell you naval secrets! +What, do you imagine I am going to trust you with +the knowledge of the movements of the fleet? It +wouldn't be safe! But I can answer one part of +your question; we got in about six o'clock this +morning. And, as I told you, I came here to see +you as soon as I could find out where you were. +You ought to say 'pleased to meet you,' or something +like that, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"'Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stapleton,'" echoes +Norah with mock politeness. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but are you really though?" urges Stapleton +more earnestly. "<i>Are</i> you pleased to see me +again? Are you glad that I came straight here to +see you? Tell me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Why, of course I am," answers the girl, fencing +off his impulsive attack; "it cannot be anything but +a pleasure to see one of those who were so kind to +us last night." +</p> + +<p> +"You know perfectly well I don't mean anything +like that!" This impetuous lover is so very direct +in his speech, it is difficult to keep him at bay; +Norah, with a trembling heart, finds all her defences +breaking down at once. "I told you last night +that if I lived I would search for you until I found +you. I meant it. And I have found you—sooner +than I dared to hope. Now then, I must hear you +tell me, are you glad to see—me?" +</p> + +<p> +A silence. +</p> + +<p> +"Norah—are you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes—I—am." +</p> + +<p> +"Norah! My Norah!" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, no, no!" +</p> + +<p> +"But it is ah, yes, yes! Look me in the +face—can you tell me that you do not care for +me?" +</p> + +<p> +She does as he bids her; raises her glorious dark +eyes to his, fearlessly, like the brave-hearted girl +she is, and tells him the truth she is too proud to +conceal. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I do care. Very much!" +</p> + +<p> +"Surely it is all a dream! It is all too strange, +too wonderful, too exquisite to be true! There +flashes across the girl's mind, as she speaks her +simple confession of love, a sort of instantaneous +vision—a mental picture of her life. She sees dark +clouds forming, rolling down upon her and growing +ever more and more threatening; gloomy black +clouds, heavy with doom and horror; they close +around her and she is almost engulfed in them—when +on a sudden, a dazzling shaft of golden light pierces +the thick darkness, rolling back the evil clouds and +scattering them into nothingness, leaving her bathed +in the gleaming glory. +</p> + +<p> +The vision passes. Her lover has taken her by +the hand and is gently compelling her to follow him. +His desire is to lead her away, out of sight and +hearing of all who may chance to break in upon them. +This supreme moment of their lives must not be +interrupted; it is for themselves alone. +</p> + +<p> +The hillocky ground of the wild heather-clad +island affords many a safe retreat for lovers' +confidences, even though it is a fairly well frequented +spot. Here is the sailors' hut, and here the +recreation ground, and further away some scattered +cottages of the highland natives; but there is room +enough amongst the rough sedgy wastes where +the bog-cotton makes a snowy carpet and the curlew +and plover awake the solitudes with their plaintive +cries, room enough for two to escape from all the +wide world and find a new glorious world in which +live none but just themselves alone. +</p> + +<p> +So they walk, side by side, in silence at first: and +the rough ground beneath their feel becomes the +golden floor of heaven. +</p> + +<p> +And, presently, Alick Stapleton takes his beloved +into his arms. "Then you are my Norah, after +all," he whispers to her; "my very own Norah! +Yet I never doubted it, from the first moment I saw +you. Even then as soon as my eyes rested on you, +I knew that there could never be any other woman +in the world for me but you, and I hoped—yes, I +knew, that you would sometime or other come to +feel just the same way about me! And do you +really and truly mean that you can love me too? +That you began to care for me at that very same +time? Wonderful!" +</p> + +<p> +A premonition of impending misfortune strikes +coldly upon her heart, a dark foreboding such as +chilled the passionate rapture of another maiden +long ago who, like her, feared a sudden ending to +the glories of love at first sight— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "<i>——Although I joy in thee,<br> + I have no joy of this contract to-night;<br> + It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,<br> + Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be<br> + Ere one can say 'It lightens.'</i>"<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Stapleton feels no such foolish dread, and would +laugh her fears away. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, what is there to be afraid of?" he smilingly +chides her. "As long as we love each other there +is nothing in the world that can come between us!" +</p> + +<p> +Norah sighs, answering him, "Ah, how many who +have loved have said the same thing—and +believed it!" +</p> + +<p> +"But <i>I</i> believe it, and you must believe it, too," +this forceful lover insists—"Norah, my darling, +do not let such sad thoughts come upon you at such +a moment as this!" +</p> + +<p> +"No," she makes answer, almost fiercely, thrusting +aside her dread presentiment, "this hour of love +and happiness at least may be allowed me, and +nothing shall snatch it away!" +</p> + +<p> +She clings to her lover's arm, leaning upon him +as though she would seek shelter there and keep the +world at bay, defying fate and all the threats and +dangers of the days to come. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, that's my girl," smiles Stapleton. "But +not this hour of happiness only, Norah. Love and +happiness shall be ours all through our life. It will +rest with ourselves to make it so. Every thought +of mine shall be for you. Do you know, I kept +thinking about you all the time after you left us +last night? I could not put you out of my +mind—I did not want to!" +</p> + +<p> +Not <i>quite</i> the truth, Lieutenant-Commander Stapleton, +first lieutenant of the <i>Marathon</i>, not quite the +whole truth and nothing but the truth; for was there +not that terrible time when all his thoughts had been +for the ship and her crew, suddenly overtaken +by that awful disaster! +</p> + +<p> +Yet he must not let his mind dwell upon that +horror for a single moment, lest his brain should +telegraph to Norah's the sad awfulness of it; for both +their minds are surely tuned alike at such a time +as this, and it would be very easy for her to receive +impressions from the waves of her lover's thoughts. +At all costs, the knowledge of the disaster must be +kept from her, at least for the present. +</p> + +<p> +So Stapleton dismisses the fearful memory; and +a lighter recollection takes its place in his mind. +This is better fitted for her ears, and he smiles as +he tells her. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know, when my marine servant brought +the hot water to my cabin just before dinner, I +said 'Thank you, darling,' to him." +</p> + +<p> +"He <i>must</i> have been surprised," laughs Norah. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I don't know; it takes a good deal to surprise +a marine!—But tell me, did you think about +me, too, just ever so little?" +</p> + +<p> +"More than a little. I thought about you all +the time. Oh, I am so glad to know you are +safe—all of you!" +</p> + +<p> +"Hm! Why shouldn't we be safe?"—Stapleton +thinks it rather a curious remark, and hopes +to goodness his face will not betray him into making +any unnecessary revelations. +</p> + +<p> +Norah also realises how very inopportune are the +words that have slipped out unawares; and +endeavours to explain away her real anxieties. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I don't know why! There are always +dangers at sea, aren't there? And especially now +in war-time." The girl turns very white as she +voices these stirrings of her heart. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton feels he must dispel these fears at once. +He knows what an agony is endured by sweethearts +and wives who let their imagination brood upon +the perils of the deep in time of war. His +messmates have spoken of such matters in his hearing +how the dear women at home endure torturing days +and sleepless nights in utter helplessness, thinking +of those who go down to the sea in ships, and suffering +infinitely more than the objects of their anxiety +and compassion—who, indeed, are very often +spending a thoroughly comfortable time and would be +vastly surprised to be told they were the subjects +of so much pity. +</p> + +<p> +It will never do for Norah to start indulging in +such worries; so Stapleton turns the subject aside +with a light-hearted jest. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," says he, "anyhow, there are no more +dangers at sea than there are ashore. Why, the +most dreadful things happen to those brave people +who have the courage to live on dry land. Think of +the—the 'bus accidents, and the—the banana skins! +Think of the flag days! More people get killed in +one day in London through bursting blood-vessels +in altercations with taxi-drivers than have been +lost in action at sea since the days of Nelson; there +are statistics to prove it! And, then, there was an +uncle of mine who spent twenty-nine years afloat, +and directly he retired and took to the beach, +blessed if he didn't go and marry his cook! Oh yes, +the land is far more dangerous than the sea, every +time!" +</p> + +<p> +And so, betwixt love and laughter, the happy +minutes pass. Norah clings to her hour, the more +because she knows full well it must end soon. She +must make full confession—that is imperative; +and, when she has confessed, there can be no more +question of love between her and this gallant, loyal +young King's Officer. He will hate her—or, what is +worse, will pity her; but in no case can he consent to +link his life with hers; she has put herself beyond +the pale by her rash and wicked plotting. +</p> + +<p> +But the confession shall not be made just yet. +Of that Norah is determined. So little has been her +portion of joy in life till now, so little will be hers +when this brief hour is gone; now, while love is +within her grasp, it shall be hers to enjoy, come +what may! +</p> + +<p> +Yes, and there is another consideration that +makes her keep silence: the safety of Netta, who +is very dear to her. Norah is quite prepared to stand +the punishment for her own guilt, but she will not +incriminate her cousin. +</p> + +<p> +Wait till they have escaped Southwards, when +Netta can hide herself somewhere till the affair has +blown over—Patrick doubtless, will be quite able +to take care of himself. Then, and not before, Norah +says to herself, she will write to Alick Stapleton, +openly confessing her own share in the plot—and +then she, too, can shrink into obscurity and pray +that her life may not be a long one. But, for the +present, she bids defiance to black care. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XVI +</h3> + +<p> +But the end comes sooner than Norah has planned. +</p> + +<p> +Fate will not be mocked and defied, but demands +quick retribution. Even now, while the lovers are +wandering idly along the moorland paths and opening +their hearts in the first effulgence of their new-found +happiness, grim Fate is stalking them over the +heather-clad hills and is coming quickly towards +the girl who has dared to defy him. +</p> + +<p> +And with cruel irony, Fate chooses for Norah's +undoing three instruments which should be the +last in the world to bring harm to her—a dog she +has petted, a man she has befriended, and a child +she has loved. +</p> + +<p> +The dog comes first. He is just a mongrel spaniel, +a brown thing with silky ears and most beseechful eyes +and a more than human memory for a friend. Oh, +that memory! It means the death of love to Norah! +Over the ridge of the rough ground the dog +appears, ranging from side to side and nosing about +in the coarse growth as a spaniel will. Then he +stops, seeing the couple beneath, and raises his +brown head for a glance at them. +</p> + +<p> +One glance is enough. With a short excited yelp +of recognition he comes tumbling down the slope +and rushes towards Norah, flattening himself to the +ground at her feet, wriggling and dragging his +silky body forward in an ecstasy of delight, and all +the time flogging the earth with a thudding tail. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, Mopsey, Mopsey!" cries the girl, stooping +quietly to pat him. +</p> + +<p> +And then she draws back quickly, biting her +lip, knowing that she has betrayed herself. +</p> + +<p> +"Hallo," says Stapleton, astonished, "why, the +dog seems to know you!" +</p> + +<p> +Is there any escape from this trap in which Norah +has allowed herself to be caught unawares? Yes, +perhaps with luck. It means <i>lying</i>, but Norah +realises that she must not stick at telling more +untruths—if Netta is to be saved. +</p> + +<p> +"And you know him, too," Stapleton adds; +"where have you seen him before?" +</p> + +<p> +"Most dogs like me," she answered; "I always +make friends with them at once. And this one +reminded me of one I used to have at home, two or +three years ago. He was called Mopsey, and was +so much like this dear thing that for the moment I +really half thought it was my old Mopsey come to +life again!" +</p> + +<p> +Lies! Lies! They fall awkwardly from the +girl's lips, and she hates herself for telling them. +She is not accustomed to speaking the thing that is +not true—<i>was</i> not accustomed, rather, till forced +into it by the mad career upon which she was +persuaded to embark. And now it is not easy to step +back into the old paths of honour and truth. A +hateful necessity holds her in its grip. For her own +sake alone she would scorn to take refuge in this +lying subterfuge, even though her brief hour of love +is at stake and she finds herself standing at bay, faced +by the hounds of Fate. But Netta's safety is another +matter, and one which unrelentingly demands that +she shall pile falsehood upon falsehood. +</p> + +<p> +Even so, with her assumed hardihood, Norah is +not able to bring a tone of conviction into her words; +they ring false, as false as they are. +</p> + +<p> +Nor does this escape her companion's notice. +Stapleton darts a quick glance at her, almost +doubting her for a fraction of a second. Then he feels +thoroughly ashamed for daring to doubt her and is +more than annoyed with himself for having done so. +After all, why on earth should any doubt creep into +the occasion? It is not such a very strange +coincidence, to come across a dog resembling one you +have owned in former days, is it? +</p> + +<p> +Now he is all for making honourable amends for his +momentary distrust. +</p> + +<p> +"There is nothing very wonderful, Norah, dear," +says he, "in all dogs loving you. <i>They</i> know—they +have an instinct for recognising people who are +genuine and good. You never find a dog making +friends with a mean person, a coward, a liar." +</p> + +<p> +Oh! Oh! Inwardly Norah cowers and shrinks +beneath this stinging blow, but outwardly she has to +keep a bold face and maintain at least the +appearance of frankness. +</p> + +<p> +"What was your own Mopsey like?" pursues the +girl's lover. "Spaniels are always so intelligent; +was yours?" +</p> + +<p> +Norah takes refuge in stooping to fondle the dog at +her feet, in order to hide her face while she proceeds +to invent the life history of an entirely imaginary +dog. +</p> + +<p> +"Intelligent?" she laughs, "why, Mopsey was +the cleverest dog that ever lived! He knew as +much as most humans, and a good deal more than +some! He could do anything but speak. Even +from a puppy he seemed to understand everything +I said to him. For instance, I only had to say +'Mopsey, go upstairs and fetch my handkerchief, +I left it on the bed,' and he would go at once and +bring it. But that was nothing; once, I was going +out to play tennis and when I had gone about half +a mile from the house I discovered that the shoes +I was carrying were not my own but Netta's, so I +whistled to Mopsey and told him to take them back +quickly and bring me my own shoes. You will +hardly believe it when I tell you that within a +quarter of an hour he was with me again, bringing +the right pair of shoes in his mouth! I don't suppose +there ever was quite such a clever dog as my dear +old Mopsey!" +</p> + +<p> +No, probably there never was! +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps, in her artistic effort to portray the +intelligent creature of her imagination, Norah has +a little overdrawn the picture: yet Stapleton, +blinded with love and devotion, does not see it, and +only murmurs admiringly: +</p> + +<p> +"You must have been awfully——" +</p> + +<p> +Exactly how Stapleton intended to conclude his +sentence is never known, for he breaks it off in the +middle, being interrupted by a voice which comes +ringing across the heather, the voice of some man +as yet unseen, concealed by the turfy hillocks. +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Mopsey, Mopsey! Good dog, come here then, +where are you? Mopsey!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +The dog has pricked up his silken ears at the first +sound of the voice. He turns his head, and then +for a moment pretends not to have heard, yielding +to the pleasurable lure of Norah's caressing hands. +Only for a moment, though. As the cry is repeated, +coming nearer this time, the dog's instinct of duty +proves stronger than the rival attraction, and he +bounds off up the bank in a floundering run to seek +his master. +</p> + +<p> +<i>His master!</i> Norah gasps as she realises how +much greater her danger is than she had fondly +imagined. How could she be fool enough, she asks +herself, to imagine that Mopsey's master could be +very far away from Mopsey? +</p> + +<p> +So now the game is up! All hope is lost, and her +ingenious fabrications have been of no avail. She +might have known it! +</p> + +<p> +Resigning herself to her fate, she turns and looks +upwards to find, as she expected, Stapleton looking +down upon her in troubled wonderment. +</p> + +<p> +There is something more than wonder in his +handsome face, shadowed now by a look of severity, +almost of anger. He is frowning, and a glance of +accusation shines from his eyes: +</p> + +<p> +"Why, Norah——" he begins; but proceeds no +further. Once more he is interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +Over the top of the bank appear two men in +bluejackets' rig, stalwart young able seamen their +faces glowing with the healthy buffetings of the +North Sea wind and spray. At least one of them +possesses this appearance to a marked degree; he +has evidently spent a long sojourn up in the Northern +Mists. His companion rather lacks that jolly +weather-beaten look, though he too is fresh-coloured +and healthy; and it is at his heels that the dog +Mopsey walks—though he breaks away again at +sighting Norah, and comes lolloping up to her +again. +</p> + +<p> +The two bluejackets check their stride on seeing +an officer before them, and are about to turn +respectfully aside and seek another path when Mopsey's +master turns his eyes upon the girl at the officer's +side—recognises her! +</p> + +<p> +Then, with a leap and a run through the thick +scrubby growth of furze and heather, he comes to +her with outstretched hand and a smile of +astonishment and welcome. +</p> + +<p> +"Why, Miss," he exclaims, "who ever would have +thought of seeing you here! I thought you were +going to Ireland!" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton stands apart in silence, looking from +one to the other, and not knowing what to make +of it all. He thinks he had better watch, and listen; +possibly the mystery will explain itself. +</p> + +<p> +It does. He has not long to wait. +</p> + +<p> +"How did you get here, Miss?" continues the +sailor; "only last week, when you were staying at +our house in Glasgow, you said you were going to +your cousin's home in Ireland for six months—how +is it that I find you here? Is your—is Miss Netta +with you?" +</p> + +<p> +Norah, for one brief moment, has thought wildly +of brazening it out and denying that she has ever +met this man; of saying that he must be mistaking +her for someone else of his acquaintance. But she +perceives that this course of action would avail her +not at all. It is only too obvious that the man has +really recognised her; besides, he has openly +mentioned Netta's name. There is no escaping from +such a trap as this! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XVII +</h3> + +<p> +In her utter dismay and despair the events of the +previous week flash across Norah's mind like +a swift dream. +</p> + +<p> +They say that even the most cunning criminals, +even such astute experts as have learnt every clever +device to cover up their tracks, usually neglect some +simple precaution or commit some perfectly childish +blunder which leads to their undoing. +</p> + +<p> +So it has now proved, after all the ingenious and +elaborate precautions of Patrick Sheridan and his +fair accomplices; one little fact overlooked, and the +whole conspiracy is threatened with exposure. +</p> + +<p> +Or is it not rather one turn of the wheel of fate +which was quite beyond the power of the plotters +to foresee or to avoid? +</p> + +<p> +For who could have foretold that Dick Baynes, +able seaman and volunteer, would have been sent +to this remote part of the world when there were so +many other places, so many other ships, to which +he might have been drafted? +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, Dick Baynes himself had distinctly said +that he was expecting to go out to the Mediterranean. +He had even named the ship which he was going to +join, and the actual date on which he was to depart. +</p> + +<p> +Norah remembers that a certain vague feeling of +distrust had chilled her from the very first moment +when Baynes came into the house at Glasgow where +she and her cousins were staying while making their +final plans. +</p> + +<p> +It was the house of certain sympathisers with the +great cause. Known and trusted sympathisers; yet +not wholly trusted, for it was not well to take too +many people into complete confidence in such a +desperate venture as this. +</p> + +<p> +So the Maloney family, in their mean house in one +of the poorest quarters of Glasgow, knew but little +of the doings and plans of the Sheridans beyond the +fact that they were to give the visitors shelter for +a few days and assist them without questioning in +everything that might be required. The word was +passed to them to this effect, and it was an order +which they dared not disobey even if they desired +to do so. +</p> + +<p> +No difficulty was experienced in maintaining the +necessary secrecy, owing to the fact that secrecy +and mystery were the dearest delights of Sheridan +and his fellow-plotters. The society, league, or +organisation, or whatever its correct name was, to +which he belonged, dabbled in mystery and secrets +like a child playing with its pet toys. Indeed, there +was very much that was childish in the whole +business; coupled with a good deal of malevolent +purpose. The conspirators took themselves very +seriously: if they had possessed a grain of their +proverbial national humour their enterprise would +have died at its birth. But just as in the case of +similar enterprises emanating from a similar source, +that grain of humour was unhappily lacking. So +there were pass-words, oaths, secret sessions, codes, +signs, and all the rest of it, highly diverting to the +very serious conspirators who succeeded thereby in +impressing themselves with an enormous sense of +their own importance and would sooner have parted +with life itself than have divulged a single one of +their precious secrets—all of which, by the way, +might have been discovered with ease by any village +constable had he thought it worth while. But, +unhappily, the official mind does not always think +it worth while to investigate every hare-brained +scheme compounded of play-acting and murder in +equal parts; with the result that the comedy +sometimes becomes overtaken by the tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was money lacking to provide for the complete +carrying out of the plot. The headquarters of the +association supplied ample funds—though where +these funds came from originally was not known to +every casual member; only the inner circle possessed +this particular secret. +</p> + +<p> +As far as the Maloneys were concerned, their +only part was to provide a fast sea-going motor-boat, +and to give house-room to the Sheridans. The +former of these requirements was one which they +were easily able to supply, owing to their knowledge +of the Clyde and the many firms on its banks. The +boat was purchased, not openly—that would never +have done!—but by underground channels and +devious ways, through sub-agents and second and +third parties under assumed names and every +conceivable falsification—a process which gave the +greatest pleasure to Patrick Sheridan and his +mysterious chiefs at headquarters. +</p> + +<p> +Buying an old ship's lifeboat, fitting her out so +as to look as she was intended to look, and then +concealing her in an unfrequented creek somewhere +on the west coast of Scotland was a matter that +called for rather more care and precaution. But +even this was effected at last, though it +necessitated many trips to and fro, always by sea so as +to avoid inquisitive observation. +</p> + +<p> +All went very well, so long as the Sheridans had +to deal with the Maloneys alone. They were decent +enough people in their way, very poor, and in all +probability quite ignorant of the blacker side of +the organisation to which they belonged as very +subordinate members; nothing but their poverty +had induced them to join it, poverty and the +discontent which ensues therefrom, causing them to +leave no source of possible aid untried. And they +did find some help in this league; many were the +pickings they gained by assisting it in their humble +way—and they were content to remain ignorant +and ask no questions so long as the trickle of gold +continued. +</p> + +<p> +The Maloneys were but two, husband and wife, +both of them somewhat over the middle age. Well, +there was a third, but so small that it hardly counted. +This was wee Sheila, the two-year old child of the +Maloneys' only daughter. Kathleen Maloney, at the +age of twenty, had disgraced her parents and brought +shame upon her home—at least, so the parents +themselves said—by marrying a man in the hated +uniform of the tyrant English King. +</p> + +<p> +Kathleen however, did not altogether share her +parents' sentiments—especially when a +counter-argument was presented in the form of handsome +young Dick Baynes who came a-courting her and +speedily won her. +</p> + +<p> +But as the misguided girl made amends for her +treachery by dying at the birth of her child no +great harm was done. Wee Sheila was taken to +live with her grandparents, and the unhappy +widower was packed off to go about his lawful +occasions in the British Navy. +</p> + +<p> +Just at the time when the Sheridans came to +Glasgow, able seaman Baynes was stationed at +Portsmouth Barracks, waiting to be drafted to a +ship. +</p> + +<p> +Then, quite unexpectedly, he appeared at Glasgow. +</p> + +<p> +Pat Sheridan scowled darkly when he saw the +fresh-complexioned spruce young seaman cross the +threshold. Little use had he for any man belonging +to the British Navy! +</p> + +<p> +Norah did not scowl; but she understood well all +that this man stood for—and all that she was +committed to. And she feared, though scarcely knowing +why. +</p> + +<p> +As for Netta, she neither scowled nor feared, but +was openly and genuinely pleased to have someone +about the premises of a different type from the +dark conspirators around her—especially one of such +a pleasing appearance and manner as the handsome +and lively Dick Baynes. +</p> + +<p> +The gallant young sailor was quite wrapped up +in his motherless daughter, a fascinating little mite +with pretty ways and lovely face; but he found +space also in his large heart to devote a good deal +of dog-like attention to Miss Netta Sheridan—always +with the utmost deference and respect, like a peasant +worshipping a princess. +</p> + +<p> +Had Netta been of a humbler station in life, it is +just possible that Dick Baynes might have made +the attempt to console himself for his lost Kathleen; +and who knows but what he might have succeeded, +with his honest manly bearing and his handsome +open face? As it was, Netta suffered him to the +extent of permitting him to act as her escort day +after day while the others plotted. And many were +the walks they took through the Clydebank suburbs, +and sometimes in the parks of Glasgow itself. +Mopsey, the sailor's dog, acted as chaperon on these +occasions; that is to say, sometimes, for mostly +the fickle Mopsey preferred to remain at home in +company with Norah, to whom he had taken a very +great fancy. +</p> + +<p> +And then wee Sheila fell ill. Very ill indeed was +the poor mite, sick nigh unto death. +</p> + +<p> +It was Norah who nursed her, sitting up three +nights by the child's bedside and never leaving her +even for a single hour. Norah, who soothed her +delirium and quieted her with a touch of her tender +motherly hand—Norah, in whose heart at the same +moment was the plan of sending hundreds of men +to their death! It was Norah who remained in the +sick-room when the worst peril was past, and amused +the child, tossing fretfully on her little bed, by telling +her fairy stories for hour after hour, stories woven out +of the love in her mother-heart, such as no one can +invent but those who love little children and +have—or ought to have—little children of their own. +</p> + +<p> +And it was Netta—who scarcely went near the +sick room—who got all the gratitude from Dick +Baynes. For this is a part of that mysterious thing, +the Way of a Man with a Maid, that when he is +deeply in love his eyes can see no one else but her, +and if the whole world beside come showering gifts +upon him he fondly imagines that she alone is the +source of all gifts. +</p> + +<p> +Norah saw this, and understood. As for Netta, +it is doubtful whether she even saw, and if she did, +certainly she took it all as a matter of course and +accepted the homage without comment. +</p> + +<p> +When Dick Baynes' leave was up, he went back +to Portsmouth, taking Mopsey the dog with him. +He said he expected this to be his final visit before +going abroad, as he thought he would be leaving for +the Mediterranean almost immediately. Whereat +Patrick Sheridan was morosely glad, and Norah was +unaccountably relieved; and Netta was slightly +sorry for at least twenty-four hours. +</p> + +<p> +And none of the three ever dreamed that at the +very last moment the drafting of able seaman +Baynes to a Mediterranean ship would be cancelled +and that he would be sent instead to this Northern +base. +</p> + +<p> +Norah, gazing wide-eyed at the man in her utter +surprise and dismay, reviews all this in a moment +of thought, and even finds time to reflect how +utterly powerless one is, after taking the most +scrupulous precautions, to foresee or to combat +the blind blows of destiny. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XVIII +</h3> + +<p> +No, it is useless to pretend she does not know +the man. +</p> + +<p> +If he were alone, such a course, though +desperate, might perhaps be attempted, even if the +chances of its succeeding were small indeed. Still, +with some hard lying and a brazen play at +indignation, something might possibly come of it. +</p> + +<p> +But, unfortunately Dick Baynes has a chum +with him, and what he finds a little difficulty in +saying to this fine young lady and her officer companion +he manages to express more easily to his own +bluejacket friend. +</p> + +<p> +"Bill, this is that young lady I was telling you +of," he says, dragging forward his chum—who does +not at all appear to appreciate being forced into a +conversation with such company, "the young lady +who helped the other young lady to nurse my little +Sheila when she was so sick. Very good to us, she +was, and I shall be ever grateful for all she +did—she <i>and</i> the other young lady." +</p> + +<p> +"Many's the time I've 'eard you say so, Dick," +says Bill rather sheepishly, as if he is not quite +certain what is the correct thing to say under the +circumstances; and then, judging that he is called +upon to make some appropriate remark to the +young lady in question, he adds, "Your servant, +Miss." Which is an entirely non-committal statement, +showing politeness and a desire to please, and +fitting well into any and every sort of circumstance. +</p> + +<p> +Norah ignores the well-meant effort, and turns +upon Dick Baynes with a question. Forgetting that +he began by asking her a very similar one with +regard to her own movements, she voices her surprise +and consternation in the query: +</p> + +<p> +"How do you come to be here? I thought you +said you were going to the Mediterranean?" +</p> + +<p> +Anything to prolong the time and put off the +evil moment when she must be presently left alone +with Stapleton! Anything to confuse the details +and conceal, if possible, the worst of the truth under +a mass of empty talk. +</p> + +<p> +"And I thought you were going to Ireland, Miss," +answers the man. "So it seems we were both of us +a little out of our reckoning. But I'm glad indeed +to meet you again and thank you for all you did +for me last week. I was able to look in at Glasgow +for a few hours on my way up, and you'll be surprised +to find what a difference there is in my little +Sheila. She's as bright and bonny as if she had +never been ill at all—'tis wonderful how quickly +children will recover from an illness, isn't it?—and +she is always asking, so her grandma tells me, for +Miss Netta and Mr. Sheridan, and you." +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton can keep silence no longer. He has +listened to the amazing revelations of this talk +quite dumbfounded; scarcely understanding its +import at first, till little by little the full meaning +of it dawns upon his mind. And he has been looking +from Norah to Baynes and from Baynes to Norah +with consternation written on every line of his face. +At last he breaks out, unable to keep back the +question that rises to his lips, and, alas, unable +anymore to keep back his growing doubt of Norah. +</p> + +<p> +His voice, as he opens his lips to speak, sounds +dry and unnatural; it is the voice of a man suddenly +subjected to a terrible mental strain. +</p> + +<p> +"What is this you are saying, my man," he +questions, addressing himself to able seaman Baynes; +"did I understand you to state that this lady was in +Glasgow last week, and that you saw her there?" +</p> + +<p> +Norah, like a drowning man clinging to a straw, +has only one last hope, one almost impossible chance +remaining. She seizes it in her desperation, and +with a frown and a shake of her head, unseen by +Stapleton, endeavours to extract from Baynes a +denial which she fondly hopes may sound plausible, +Dick Baynes is an intelligent man—to a certain +extent. That is to say, he is quite able to grasp +the fact that the frowning lady whose mouth is +silently shaping a "no" for his instruction expects +him to contradict everything he has so far said; +but his intelligence does not go quite so far as to +enable him to invent on the spur of the moment +some contradictory statement which can carry +conviction with it. +</p> + +<p> +"I beg your pardon, sir?" he stammers. This at +least gives him a few seconds more for further +thought. And Norah is still making signs to him +behind Stapleton's back. Her face, Baynes notices, +is very white, white even to the lips. +</p> + +<p> +"You heard what I said perfectly well," snaps +out the imperious voice of the officer. "Was this +lady staying in Glasgow last week, or was she not?" +</p> + +<p> +Norah's lips are shaping the words "last month; +last month." And Baynes is not slow to grasp the +significance of this lip-signalling; it is not for +nothing that he has been in his youth a frequenter +of the picture houses. +</p> + +<p> +His face lights up with relief at being thus helped +out of his difficulty; and taking the cue he at once +repeats aloud: +</p> + +<p> +"Last month, sir, not last week. Did I say last +week, sir? It must have been a slip of the tongue +on my part. I meant to say last month." +</p> + +<p> +It is so obviously overdone, this explanation. +This is just where Baynes' intelligence fails him; +he has not the necessary culture for the higher +flights of lying, and ought never to make the +attempt. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton, as was to be expected, sees through the +transparent subterfuge at once, and brushes the +man and his denial aside with a contemptuous +exclamation. +</p> + +<p> +He turns to the other man, whom he has up to now +ignored and scarcely even glanced at, overcome as he +is by so many conflicting emotions. And, looking at +him now, recognises in him a man he has often met +and talked to, a seaman employed at one of the +signalling stations on the island. +</p> + +<p> +"You, Gibbons, at any rate will tell me the +truth," he says almost appealingly. "I want to +know exactly what this man has told you about this +lady. Keep silence, you," turning sharply upon +Baynes who has opened his mouth to attempt some +further confused explanation. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it's like this 'ere, sir," begins the sailor +whom Stapleton has addressed as Gibbons; the +poor man, evidently at a loss as to how he can satisfy +at the same time both his chum and this stern-looking +officer, removes his cap and passes the fingers +of his brawny hand through his thick, clustering +brown hair, combing it into the resemblance of a +quickset hedge. "It's like this 'ere, sir. Baynes +an' me has been chums for a very long time, sir, +ever since we was little boys at the same school, sir. +An' I don't want to say nothin' as is contrary to what +he might be wishful for me to say, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"I only want you to tell me the truth. I insist +upon your telling me," orders the voice of authority. +"What I want to know is simply this; has this +man Baynes told you that he saw this lady in Glasgow +or has he not?" +</p> + +<p> +"He has, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"And <i>when</i> did he tell you he saw her? Was it +last week, or was it last month?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you see, sir——" +</p> + +<p> +"Answer me." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, as I understood him to say, it was last +week. But then, sir, I might 'ave been labouring +under a mis—mishapre'ension like." +</p> + +<p> +"That will do. I don't wish to hear any more. +You can go now, both of you." +</p> + +<p> +The two sailors, saluting, turn about and move +off without another word; neither of them feeling +exactly sorry to get away from a situation in which +they have felt the very reverse of comfortable. But +they are sorry enough for the white-faced lady they +have left behind them; and Baynes, for his part, +feels rather that he has not played up to her quite +as well as he might have done. +</p> + +<p> +The other man is almost equally disturbed about +the affair, though with less understanding of its real +meaning. He can grasp the fact, though, that +there is something more serious than an ordinary +lovers' quarrel. +</p> + +<p> +"I wouldn't like to be in 'er shoes, Dick," he +blurts out, "and 'im so precious angry. They looks +like Othello an' Desdemona in the play. Wot's she +done, old man? Wot's all the row about?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, hold your tongue, man," curtly answers +Baynes. He is grieved for the girl who has +befriended him, and fears that trouble is in store for +her; though he little knows how bitter the trouble +is. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XIX +</h3> + +<p> +Norah is left alone with her lover. +</p> + +<p> +No, not her lover any longer;—her accuser. +</p> + +<p> +He stands facing her, in a terrible silence. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, if he would only speak! If only he would +hurl at her words of abuse, of condemnation. +Anything would be more endurable than the speechless +accusation of that grey face and those burning eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The unhappy girl, distracted with remorse and +grief, sways and totters, but no hand is extended +to support her. Stapleton's arms are folded on his +breast, and he does not move an inch to help her +as she sinks to the ground and crouches at his feet, +hiding her face in her hands. +</p> + +<p> +Then, at last, he breaks the silence. "You told +me, only last night you told me," he says, speaking +very slowly and clearly, "that you had been at sea +for eight days, coming from America. Which is the +truth, that story—or this?" +</p> + +<p> +She has raised her face from her covering hands +and glanced upwards. It seems as though the +compelling gaze of those blazing eyes has forced her +against her will to meet them. +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, don't look so terribly at me!" the girl +moans. "How can you say you love me, when you +look like that?" +</p> + +<p> +The appeal falls on deaf ears. +</p> + +<p> +"Norah. Have you been <i>lying</i> to me?" +</p> + +<p> +She only answers with another moaning lament, +spoken rather to herself than to him, though he +catches the words, +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, this is the end, then. So soon!" +</p> + +<p> +There is no sign of pity or relenting in the cold +command that comes sharply: +</p> + +<p> +"Answer me!" +</p> + +<p> +Norah, in her utter agony, finds the courage of +despair. She struggles to her feet and stands boldly +facing her accuser, flinging out her arms in a gesture +that implies she has cast away all her defences, as, +she exclaims wildly: +</p> + +<p> +"Yes—I <i>have</i> lied to you. But I will tell you +everything, everything!" +</p> + +<p> +"I think you had better," replies Stapleton, +speaking in a very solemn voice, though he is perhaps +ever so little disarmed by this belated profession of +frankness. "Listen, Norah," he continues, "the +young surgeon and Merritt repeated to me some wild +ravings of your cousin when she was so overwrought +last night. They, both of them, put the whole thing +down to the unhinged imagination of a nervous +highly-strung girl. And so did I when they told me of it. +In fact, till this very moment I assure you that I had +completely forgotten all about the matter—even +in spite of what happened later." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean?" says Norah, with a +sudden feeling of cold fear gripping her at the heart. +"<i>What</i> happened later?" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton's words fall on her ears with dreadful +meaning. "Two hours after you left us, the +<i>Marathon</i> blew up. She now lies—all that is left +of her—at the bottom of the North Sea." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Oh, my God, my God!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +"Tell me," urges the other, disregarding her +agonised cry, "speak the truth now; was there +anything in this story of your cousin's?" +</p> + +<p> +Norah has a question which she must hear +answered, however insistent her accuser may be. +</p> + +<p> +"Was—was anybody lost?" she stammers. +There is no relief in the crushing reply: +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, over a hundred officers and men. The +doctor and Merritt are both gone. There is no +one but myself that knows anything of—of what +your cousin raved about. Tell me—<i>was</i> it mere +raving?" +</p> + +<p> +"Over a hundred lives!" moans the miserable +girl, too much appalled by the fearful news to give +an answer to his question. It is not fear that stops +her now, nor any desire to hide the truth; the terrible +success of her plotting has put all such ideas out +of her mind. She is thinking of those men she has +sent to their death. "Oh," she wails, "if I could +die now and bring them back!" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton is not turned aside from his purpose. +</p> + +<p> +"Norah! answer my question," he insists; "speak!—ah, +there is no need!" +</p> + +<p> +No need for words, indeed. The girls bowed +head and her silence are in themselves a confession. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you no pity for me?" she presently +makes her appeal. +</p> + +<p> +"Did you have any pity for those men whose eyes +are now closed for ever?" comes the stern reply. +"Ah, I gave my love to you quickly; but I did not +think that I was giving it to a—to a mur——" +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, do not say it!" cries the girl, taking a step +towards him and thrusting forward her hand as +though to close his lips against the dreadful +word—"I am not that—I am not, indeed!" +</p> + +<p> +The impassioned protest brings to Stapleton a +faint gleam of hope. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean by that?" he cries. "Explain +yourself, quickly." +</p> + +<p> +It is possible that there may yet be some strange +key to this mystery, something which may even +now enable him to retain his faith in this girl to +whom he has given his heart to break? +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I <i>will</i> tell you," answers Norah. And +you can believe me this time—you must believe me. +I did not set the bomb which blew up the ship. I +meant to do it—up to the very last moment I meant +to see how honest I am with you now! I am +not even attempting to conceal anything from you; +you shall know the full extent of my wickedness, to +the very utmost. I did mean to destroy the ship. +But—I repented at the last and did all that I could +to prevent the deed being done. And I thought—I +hoped—that I had succeeded. Oh, I know that I am +wicked, wicked! But I am not quite so bad as you +think me! And now I am punished. Those +drowned and maimed sailors will always be before +my eyes as long as I live, and—and I shall never +see you again. Well, I suppose it will not be long +before the law deals out another punishment to +me—I hope it will be soon, so that I may draw down +the curtain over these sorrows for ever. But will +you not at least have this much mercy on me to +say you believe me when I tell you that I tried to +save the ship, and thought that I had saved it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I do believe that," agrees Stapleton in a +calm judicial manner. And Norah somehow feels +that there is less hope for her in this fair and +deliberate judge than if he were determined to listen to +nothing in her favour. +</p> + +<p> +"But," he continues, "there was your <i>intention</i>! +That, at any rate, remains the same. You were +saved from putting it into practice only by a sudden +impulse. What that impulse was of course I do +not know. Perhaps you were afraid—just too +much of a coward to carry out what you had been +ready enough to plan. I have heard of such people +criminals at heart but too poor-spirited to become +criminals in act." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, do you think <i>that</i>?" Norah cries protestingly. +"This is the cruellest thing you have said +to me yet! But I have no right to complain." +</p> + +<p> +"No, Norah," answers the cold calm voice. "I +take back those words. I have no right to say them +I might have known that it was not fear that stayed +your hand, whatever else it may have been. Let +us say it was your better nature asserting itself. +But, all the same, you were able to give your consent +and aid to this evil plan in its beginning. And—you +would have married me and concealed all this!" +</p> + +<p> +"I do not think so," replies the girl with deliberation +equal to his own. "No, I am sure I should +not have done that. Our engagement has not been +a long one," she says this with a bitter smile—"but +if it had lasted a little longer I should soon have +made a clean breast of everything to you—yes, +even if the ship had not been lost. I should have +told you everything; and our parting would have +taken place only a little later, that is all!" +</p> + +<p> +"But why," the frenzied lover cannot help but +ask—for he is still the lover, even though he has +become the judge also—"why then did you not +tell me all when first you saw me this afternoon? It +would have been more honest if you had confessed then, +instead of allowing me to continue being deceived in +you and to find out the truth only by chance!" +</p> + +<p> +Norah hangs her head, and makes no reply. +</p> + +<p> +"What reason had you for this?" he urges again. +</p> + +<p> +Then she tells him—"It was because I wanted +to have your love just for a little time. I knew that +I must lose it soon. And this was my only chance. +I took it—and I am glad I did so. I have been yours +for an hour, and you have loved and believed in me. +Now it is over; and, for the rest, I will not shrink +from what the future may hold." +</p> + +<p> +There is silence between the two for the space +of nearly a minute. The evening sky is darkening +and a threatening bank of clouds is beginning to +overshadow the western heavens. A chilly breeze +has sprung up and sweeps across the heather with +a mournful sound. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton turns to go. Love and faith have died +within him and have left him devoid of feeling. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it seems to me that there is nothing more +to be said between us," is his parting word; and +then, in a kindlier tone, "you had better go indoors; +it is clouding over, and you will be getting wet soon +if you stay out here. I kept my boat waiting for +me; it is a good thing that I did so." +</p> + +<p> +This is his good-bye—a sorry farewell to love! +Not even one tender word to pay a last tribute to +his vanished dream of happiness. Perhaps deep +down in his mind lies some torturing thought that +the girl whom he must hand over to justice is the +girl whom for a brief while he has loved; but if +such a thought exists, he gives it no utterance. +</p> + +<p> +Without another glance at Norah, he turns and +walks slowly away towards the landing-place. +Norah stands like a pillar of marble—yes, and white +as marble is the girl's face; she follows him with her +eyes, and not till he is quite out of sight does she +stir from her motionless attitude. Then, with a little +staggering forward step she flings out her arms +towards the vanished figure as if to draw him back +to her. Only for a moment; the sense of her +helplessness and hopelessness comes suddenly home +to her, and letting fall her hands despairingly she +flings herself on the ground in an agony of grief +and shame. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap20"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XX +</h3> + +<p> +It is very trying, to say the least of it, to be +overwhelmed by the waves and storms of one fierce +emotion after another, and to be left finally +stranded well-nigh lifeless on the shores of desolation +and despair. But it is still more trying, under such +painful circumstances, to be obliged to behave oneself +as if nothing particular has occurred and to have +to meet one's friends with a complacent expression +and talk to them in a well-behaved ordinary manner. +</p> + +<p> +Such, however, is the case with Norah, as she +makes her way back to the hut. How she manages to +find her way there over the rough ground in the +fading light, her eyes half blinded with tears, +is something which she herself certainly could not +account for. But she does find her path, somehow; +and, when nearing the end of it, comes face to face +with good Mrs. Shaw, who has set out to meet her, +anxious about her charge and prepared to give her +a motherly scolding for staying out of doors too +long. +</p> + +<p> +Norah is thankful that it is already too dark for +her face to be seen very clearly, and furtively dries +her eyes as she prepares to listen to Mrs. Shaw; +luckily, it is quite certain that the loquacious lady +will undertake most of the talking! +</p> + +<p> +"You bad girl," begins the kindly voice, "to +stay out to such an hour when I told you that you +were only to be out for a little while! You will be +catching a cold and getting ill again and I don't +know what! Ah; it's no good saying you +won't!"—Norah, be it noticed, has not said a word—"I +know you <i>will</i>! But, bless me, you young things are +all alike; while you are healthy and strong you think +you can do anything and laugh at a body who tells you +you can't play with your health without paying for +it! Wait till you come to my age, my dear—wait till +you have your first touch of rheumatism! But I +suppose you notice nothing when you are in the +company of a fine handsome young man. And quite +right too—you can only be young but once! Dear +me, what am I saying? I ought to be scolding +you, and instead of that—by the way, where is he? +What have you done with him?" +</p> + +<p> +"He had to get back," lamely answers the girl +in a thin piping voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Had to get back did he? Hm! I should +think so—spending the best part of the afternoon +philandering with a pretty girl; a nice way to +employ his time, when there's a war on! If all +young naval officers idle their days like that it's a +wonder the navy gets along at all! But I can't be +angry with Alick. He's a sad dog, but a dear—don't +you think so? Isn't he just the sort of man +that any girl might lose her heart to?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I don't know, Mrs. Shaw, yes—no, I mean. +I'm sorry—I'm afraid I wasn't listening,"—which +is not quite true, for, Norah has heard only too well +and feels her heart torn by the idle question. She +feigns tiredness as an excuse for not making any +more coherent reply—and it is not entirely feigning, +for she stumbles a little in her walk and is glad +enough to support herself on Mrs. Shaw's kindly arm. +</p> + +<p> +So the good woman pilots her charge to the hut, +and together they seek the friendly shelter of the +room where Netta is lying. +</p> + +<p> +And, oh, how Norah longs to be left alone with her +cousin! For she must tell her of the dreadful thing +that has happened in the discovery of her secret, +and must warn her of the danger that threatens +the three of them. Perhaps, even she may find +some counsel in Netta—if any counsel can be of +avail in such a desperate case! +</p> + +<p> +But for some time the uninterrupted flow of +words proceeding from the well-meaning lady's lips +leaves little hope of a conversation in private. +Mrs. Shaw vents her solicitude for her two patients in a +ceaseless torrent of remarks, questions and +commands, all of the kindest nature but almost +unendurable to the two girls whose chief desire is to be +left alone together. +</p> + +<p> +"There now," exclaims the smiling dame, as she +plies her patients with steaming hot soup, "that +will make you look a little bit brighter by the time +the admiral sees you again. He told me he should +look in here on his way back. I don't know what +he would say to me if he saw you looking as white +as you are now!" +</p> + +<p> +At last the good but somewhat trying lady fusses +out of the room, having suddenly thought of some +other nourishing concoction which she can prepare +for the further invigoration of the two girls, and +she leaves them free to talk, much to Norah's relief; +and to Netta's also, for she has seen that some +matter is troubling her cousin. +</p> + +<p> +Norah is not long in pouring forth her story, to +which the other girl listens with the utmost +concern. +</p> + +<p> +Netta is horrified, as Norah had been, to learn +the dread news of the loss of the <i>Marathon</i> with so +many lives. At first she could hardly believe it, +having been so confident that Patrick's purpose +had been foiled at the last; but she is unwillingly +forced to give credit to the terrible story, and great +indeed is her grief. From the very first, it must be +remembered, she had been drawn into the conspiracy +largely against her own conviction and consent. +</p> + +<p> +But it is noteworthy that her chief concern is for +her cousin, Norah—just as Norah's is for her. These +two girls, both of them brave enough to face the +consequences of their own misdoings, are both +cowards in respect of each other's peril. +</p> + +<p> +"What is to be done?" Norah asks, thinking +inwardly how she can shield Netta. +</p> + +<p> +"We must try and think of some plan," answers +Netta, eager to light upon some means of securing +Norah's immunity. +</p> + +<p> +"How dreadfully unfortunate that Baynes should +have happened by chance to be sent to this place," +Norah broods; "surely it was more than a +coincidence—it was the hand of Fate that sent him!" +</p> + +<p> +"He was very good to me in Glasgow," muses +Netta; and there is a certain purpose in her +apparently idle reminiscence, though she keeps her +meaning to herself and does not let Norah into the +secret of her meditations. +</p> + +<p> +"Is there <i>nothing</i> you can think of?" implores +the other, impatient at Netta for allowing her +thoughts to stray inconsequently to the handsome +young seaman at such a crisis. "Can't you suggest +any plan at all?" +</p> + +<p> +It is strange how the stronger mind seems to lean +now for support upon the weaker; Norah's gnawing +anxiety for her cousin's safety has taken all the +strength from her. +</p> + +<p> +"There is only one thing I can think of," Netta +meditates aloud, "and even that doesn't seem to +hold out much hope." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, what is it?" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Come in, Admiral, come in.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Shaw's voice again! The poor girls are +never to get the chance of a quiet talk, it seems! +</p> + +<p> +"This way, Admiral. You will find them both +considerably the better for their afternoon's rest, +I think, though, I must confess I should have liked +to see them a little less pale. This one especially—isn't +she a bad girl, to go walking over the moor and +tiring herself out when I expressly told her to take +care of herself?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, young lady, I hope you've not been doing +too much," says the admiral, all courtesy and smiles. +</p> + +<p> +"I shall want you both to assist me to-morrow if you +think you feel strong enough." +</p> + +<p> +"To assist you, sir?" queries Norah, vaguely +disturbed by a foreboding of more troubles in store. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, if you will be so good. But nothing to +cause you any great distress. Only a few questions +we should like to put to you in connection with—with +your recent experiences, and that sort of +thing." +</p> + +<p> +This is very disturbing and alarming! Surely, +the report already given by Patrick ought to be +enough: but as Norah suddenly remembers, that +report was made to the captain of the <i>Marathon</i>—and the +<i>Marathon</i> now rests, with her captain, in +the grave of the seas. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Shaw attempts to come to the rescue, jealous +of any official interference with the two girls whom +she regards as her own especial care. +</p> + +<p> +"You will excuse me, Admiral," she says, "but +if you will allow me to say so, I never heard such +nonsense in all my life! Question them, indeed! +You men are all alike, naval officers and the rest of +you—you must make a fuss with your stupid +enquiries and official investigations and stuff! What +do you want to ask, I should like to know? Can't +you leave the poor creatures in peace and give them +a chance to pick up their strength after all they have +been through? Questions! Stuff and nonsense!" +</p> + +<p> +"Now, my dear Mrs. Shaw," smiles Admiral +Darlington, who knows well the good lady's humour, +"there is not the slightest occasion for you to +scold me or to be alarmed on the young ladies' +account. All that I have to say to them will not +take long, and will, I trust, put them to very little +inconvenience." +</p> + +<p> +"Then why can't you say it here?" snaps Mrs. Shaw, +far from being calmed down. +</p> + +<p> +"Unfortunately, that is impossible. I have not +altogether a free hand in these matters, and there +are certain formalities and official methods to be +observed which I am unable to dispense with. +But everything shall be done for the comfort of +your two patients, I assure you." +</p> + +<p> +"Is there anything"—turning from Mrs. Shaw +to the two girls—"anything you would wish for +that I can do? You can command everybody and +everything in the place, you know, or at least I can +do it for you." +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing, sir, thank you," answers Norah. +"Oh, yes, I should like to see my cousin, Mr. Sheridan, +early to-morrow morning, if possible." +</p> + +<p> +"Hm!" The admiral seems ever so slightly +worried at this apparently simple request. But he +answers: +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, you can see him, certainly. But you won't +mind, perhaps, if you have to wait a little. Yes, +I can promise you that you shall see him." +</p> + +<p> +Norah is content with the reply. +</p> + +<p> +"And you?" continues the admiral, turning to +Netta, "is there anything that you would like?" +</p> + +<p> +"If you please, sir," she says, "I have just heard +that there is a man here whom I used to know once +upon a time, and I should very much like to see +him, this evening if it could be arranged." +</p> + +<p> +Norah's face falls. What is Netta asking? Is +she going to be rash enough to court danger +needlessly? +</p> + +<p> +"I have no doubt that can be arranged," replies +Admiral Darlington, with much more readiness than +he had shown in granting Norah's similar request. +"What is the man's name? What ship is he in?" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't know his ship," Netta tells him, "but +his name is Baynes, Dick Baynes. He is an able +seaman." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, how can we find out where to get hold of +him?" muses the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Shaw solves the problem. "I think I can +tell you that. I remember hearing the name, quite +well, from a friend of his at the signal station. +Baynes is not in a ship at all. He is employed ashore +here, if I am not mistaken, in one of the searchlight +parties." +</p> + +<p> +"If that is the case we shall be able to find him +very easily, and you shall certainly see him this +evening. I will have him sent here quite soon. +He will be greatly flattered to be invited to talk +over old times with you, I am sure." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, sir; thank you very much, indeed." +</p> + +<p> +The emphatic tone of relief in Netta's words of +thanks causes Norah to wonder greatly. Can this +so strongly-desired meeting with Baynes have +anything to do with the plan which Netta was about +to unfold when she was interrupted? +</p> + +<p> +Admiral Darlington rises to take his leave, bidding +a cheery good night to the two pretty girls with +whom, no doubt, he would very much like to stay +and chat for the rest of the evening; for he has a +soft heart for the ladies, especially the pretty ones, +has this gallant officer. +</p> + +<p> +Outside the door he gives one last injunction to +Mrs. Shaw: +</p> + +<p> +"If possible, I wish to keep from them all knowledge +of the <i>Marathon's</i> loss until to-morrow. There +is no occasion for them to be caused needless +distress; so be careful not to let slip any hint of it, +Mrs. Shaw, won't you?" +</p> + +<p> +"You needn't tell me that, admiral," she answers +snappily. "It isn't from me that they are likely +to get anything to worry them." +</p> + +<p> +And with this Parthian shot she retreats within +the hut. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap21"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXI +</h3> + +<p> +"No, Norah dear, I would rather see him +alone, thank you." +</p> + +<p> +"But won't you tell me what your plan is?" +</p> + +<p> +This, also, Netta refuses. For the very good +reason that she has no plan; that is, nothing +definite. Only she has a vague idea that their sole +hope—and a very faint hope, too—lies in Dick +Baynes. He may not be able to suggest any means +of help; but if he cannot, there is no one else who can. +</p> + +<p> +The stalwart young seaman, on entering the room, +finds Netta Sheridan looking a very picture. +</p> + +<p> +He does not know—how should he—that she +has taken a good deal of pains to produce this +effect. All the electric lights except one have been +turned out, and this one is selected to cast a soft +light on the girl as she reclines gracefully on a +couch, leaving the rest of the room in shadow. +</p> + +<p> +So Baynes, when he comes in, has his eyes directed +at once towards a very attractive <i>tableau vivant</i>. +There are soft glints of light reflected in the girl's +ashen-gold hair, and a pair of pleading grey eyes +shine on him very effectively. +</p> + +<p> +"You've sent for me, miss?"—the man speaks +in an awed hushed voice, like a devotee before his +idol in a temple. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, Baynes—Dick. I thought that I should +like to see you again and talk to you." +</p> + +<p> +She had never called him "Dick" before, not in +all those happy days in Glasgow! +</p> + +<p> +Is it a matter for wonder that after a few more +doses of this diplomatic kind, Baynes is easily +reduced to the state of mind which Netta desires? +</p> + +<p> +But the girl has no intention of wasting time; +idle dalliance is a thing she has no use for, except +so far as it can serve her purpose; and to her +purpose she presently comes. +</p> + +<p> +"Now I want your advice and help, Dick, in a +very difficult situation," she tells him. "It was +partly for this reason that I asked you to come." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, miss? If there is anything I can do, you +can depend on me to do it. Tell me what it is." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it's just this." Having come to the +point, Netta finds some difficulty in expressing +herself. There is such a very little that will bear +telling. Baynes must not know a single word about +the conspiracy to blow up the <i>Marathon</i>. It is +sincerely to be hoped that he has not yet heard the +news that the ship is lost; but even if he has heard +this, he must be kept from all suspicion of any +connection between that disaster and the presence +of the Sheridans' party at the base. +</p> + +<p> +"It's just this," she repeats. "I can't tell you +everything, you know, because it's such a delicate +matter. If I keep anything from you, it is because +I think I ought not to tell it, and you must just +trust me. <i>Can</i> you trust me?" +</p> + +<p> +"You know I can, miss," thrills the deep-toned +reply. "I would trust you with my life!" +</p> + +<p> +The dark sweeping eyelashes are raised to let a +languorous look of gratitude escape from the grey +eyes and in an instant are lowered again. +</p> + +<p> +"It is about Norah. She is in very great danger. +She has met someone here this afternoon, an officer, +who has somehow managed to discover a secret of +her past life which she would give anything to +keep from him." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, miss? Well, I am sure it can't be anything +shameful, whatever it is. Does it matter so +very much?" +</p> + +<p> +"It matters very much, indeed; it is almost a +matter of life and death. And the dreadful part of +it is that he is sure to go and tell the admiral at +the earliest possible opportunity." +</p> + +<p> +"He ought to be stopped, miss." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course he ought. But"—with a smile +of engaging frankness—"are you quite sure you +ought to be listening to me? Don't you think we +may be spies, all three of us?" +</p> + +<p> +An indignant protest is his answer to this, and +more protestations of the most complete trust. +</p> + +<p> +"If any means could be found of preventing this +Mr. Stapleton—that is the officer's name—from +telling the admiral what he has found out about +Norah, she would never cease to be grateful to you." +</p> + +<p> +Dick Baynes does not appear greatly impressed. +Netta remarks this fact. +</p> + +<p> +"And <i>I</i> should be more than grateful, too," she adds. +</p> + +<p> +"Would you?" A very different look comes +over the man's face. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, of course I should. But can you suggest +any means of stopping his mouth?" +</p> + +<p> +"Only one, miss," Baynes replies, revolving the +matter slowly in his simple mind. "I'm a pretty +strong chap, you know; I might have to hurt him +a little—nothing to speak of, you know, only just +enough to lay him up for a few days, till you can +get away back to Glasgow." +</p> + +<p> +Netta is horrified at the idea. +</p> + +<p> +"How dare you suggest such a thing?" she +cries, flushing with indignation. "What! Do you +think that I should allow you to—to play the part +of the hired assassin——" +</p> + +<p> +"I didn't say <i>kill</i> him, miss; I only meant that +I would put him out of action, so to speak, for a +little while," murmurs the man apologetically. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, to act the bully and ruffian, then. It +is much the same thing. I am disappointed in you, +Mr. Baynes. I did think that a man of your +intelligence and cleverness might be able to find some +means of helping me out of a difficulty. But never +mind! I dare say I have alarmed myself needlessly—the +troubles one frets and worries over often +vanish when the time comes, don't they? And +if not—well, it's only two girls that will have to +suffer. Thank you all the same." +</p> + +<p> +This is quite unendurable. Baynes becomes on +the instant a limp and crushed mass of denials, +protests, and eager avowals that he will do anything +his idol desires of him and nothing she objects to; +that her wishes are all and all to him, and that she +must pardon him for even imagining she meant him +to use brute force—of course such an idea was far +below her—and so on and so forth. To put it shortly, +he is brought to just such a state of mind as Netta +intended him to be. +</p> + +<p> +She rewards and pacifies him with a smile, and +graciously takes him into favour again. +</p> + +<p> +No question about it, a censorious world would +pronounce the opinion that Netta was not quite +nice, judging from the part she is playing at present; +but it must be remembered in her defence that she +is fighting for one who is very dear to her, her +wilful, headstrong cousin Norah, who is too brave +and fearless to do anything for her own safety. +</p> + +<p> +"I promise you, miss, that I will think of something +that will put matters right for you and Miss +Norah. Only you took me rather sudden like; +when I turn it over in my mind a bit I shall find +some way to manage it, never fear!" With such +words Baynes endeavours to reinstate himself in +Netta's good graces. +</p> + +<p> +"But you must do it at once; there is no time +to waste," she urges him. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly, miss, that's right. I quite see that." But +his actions did not bear out his words, for he +makes no motion to go away, but on the contrary +draws rather nearer to the anxious girl. +</p> + +<p> +"Then why don't you go?" she asks bluntly. +Having gained her purpose, Netta is unable to see +any reason why the interview should be prolonged. +</p> + +<p> +Dick Baynes, however, does not see matters in +quite the same light. +</p> + +<p> +"Because I want to know what my reward is to +be if I do this for you," he answers. +</p> + +<p> +Netta's pretty mouth curls contemptuously. +"What?" she taunts him. "You want payment? +I thought you would help me out of friendship!" +</p> + +<p> +"For friendship? No—but for love!" he cries +in a voice vibrating with passion. "That is all the +payment I require, and that you must and shall +give me!" +</p> + +<p> +With a rapid stride he comes to her and kneels +beside her couch, taking her into his arms. She +neither repels him nor accepts his rough caresses, +but remains listless, cold and indifferent. +</p> + +<p> +To tell the truth, she is just a little bit +frightened—frightened, and still more annoyed. She did not +expect this development, and is not at all pleased +with it. +</p> + +<p> +Women are like this occasionally; they play with +fire, and are quite shocked to make the discovery +that fire burns. +</p> + +<p> +It is very pretty and feminine and all that sort +of thing to adopt a seductive manner, but the lady +who does so ought not to be altogether unprepared +to find herself successful as a seductress. +</p> + +<p> +Netta has been willing to make use of her handsome +sailor as a convenient machine; it comes upon +her like a cold douche to find that he is a man! +</p> + +<p> +And a real live warm-blooded man, strong and +forceful in his desires and most insistent in his +manner of expressing them. +</p> + +<p> +He has cast all diffidence to the winds now. +Forgetting his present position and the difference +in their respective stations, forgetting everything +else, he only remembers that she is a woman and +that he loves her. +</p> + +<p> +"I am hungry for you, Netta," he cries, his +simple, homely speech setting forth his appeal far +dearer than any finer phrases could do—"hungry +for you, and 'tis none but you can still the aching +in my heart! 'Tis you alone I want, and I have +wanted you since first I saw you. Give me yourself +and I am yours to do what you will with!" +</p> + +<p> +His strong arms press the girl close to his heart +and he rains passionate kisses upon her face. +</p> + +<p> +With an effort Netta succeeds in releasing herself, +pushing him gently away; not angrily, with the +hot indignation of an outraged maiden, nor yet +coquettishly as one who would by a feigned repulse +encourage further advances; simply, she does not +greatly care. This unforeseen turn of events strikes +her as rather a nuisance, that is all; it introduces +an element that may interfere with her plans. +Yet, on the other hand, it may have its uses; so +it is as well to take up a non-committal attitude. +</p> + +<p> +"Is this quite honourable?" she asks coldly, "to +take advantage of my distress and to make a bargain +with me for my love?" +</p> + +<p> +"Honourable or not," comes his ready answer, +"it is the only chance I have with you, and I am +going to take it. I know well that you would never +listen to me if it were not for this, and you must not +blame a desperate man if he makes use of the power +that chance puts into his hands. I want you, and +I am going to have you for my own!" +</p> + +<p> +Netta looks closely at him. The man is so terribly +in earnest. His fine, handsome face is lighted up +with the kindling fires of his love, and in his eyes +tenderness and eagerness are clashing in conflict. +No doubt he is a fine figure of a man, and if a girl +should fall in love for good looks alone, she need not +go further than this very impetuous and ardent +sailor. +</p> + +<p> +She gives a tiny sigh, so small that it escapes her +lover's notice. But that sigh means a great deal. +It means, "If I had no other matters to think about, +and if I felt myself capable of loving any one and +if this man were not what he is, and if——" +</p> + +<p> +A greater "if" than all these still confronts her; +if she does not consent to his bargain, then she +cannot hope that he will make the effort to save +Norah. This has to be faced at once, and there +is only one way of facing it. +</p> + +<p> +"Tell me, girl, tell me," urges her seaman lover +again, seizing both her hands and forcing her eyes +to meet his own, "do you agree? If I help you, +will you give me your promise to be mine? I will +trust you. I know you will keep your word. +Otherwise——" +</p> + +<p> +He does not finish his sentence. +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose so," Netta's consent, given in a low +whisper, is not very encouraging, but Baynes appears +to be content with it. +</p> + +<p> +"Then seal the bargain with me," he cries. +Netta coldly turns her cheek towards him, as a girl +might do for the chaste salute of an aged priest or +a maiden aunt. +</p> + +<p> +"No," exclaims the sailor, "that will not do for +me. If you are going to give me yourself, you +must give me an earnest of it now." +</p> + +<p> +There is no doubt as to his meaning; indeed, he +helps her to understand, by placing both his big, +strong hands upon that mass of pale gold hair +coiled on her head, and drawing her lips to his own +eager ones. +</p> + +<p> +It seems an eternity before he releases her. An +eternity which gradually blackens into an eternity +of shame. She would struggle and escape from it, +but she is held as though in a vice. +</p> + +<p> +When her seared lips are at last set free, she falls +back upon the couch, her cheeks burning red and +her eyes ready to burst into tears. +</p> + +<p> +"Now go!" she says briefly, and in such a tone +that Baynes is wise enough to obey at once without +another word. +</p> + +<p> +And when the door closes behind him, then the +bitter tears fall indeed, as Netta realises what a price +she has paid and still must pay for the bargain she +has made. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap22"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXII +</h3> + +<p> +And yet Dick Baynes, in concluding his side of +the bargain, has but gambled with fate +quite blindly. To gain the love of this +woman of his desires he will agree to anything—has +agreed, in fact. But how is he to fulfil his part of +the contract? +</p> + +<p> +That is a question he is scarcely able to answer. +And as he gets out into the cold open air and his +passionate humour cools down a little, he begins +to realise with much mortification how big a job +it is that he has let himself in for, a much +bigger job, indeed, than he feels himself able to +tackle. +</p> + +<p> +There is an officer to be traced, concerning whom +he knows little more than his name and appearance—not +even what ship he belongs to or where he is +to be found. +</p> + +<p> +And this officer has to be persuaded not to give +to the admiral certain information which he is +probably fully determined to give. +</p> + +<p> +Truly, it is a big problem for an able seaman who +is tied by his duty to the island! +</p> + +<p> +To make the problem harder still, it must be solved +at once. If there is any delay, nothing will be of +any use. +</p> + +<p> +Baynes is reminded of the fairy stories he used +to read when a child, in which a poor lad was given +such tasks as that of emptying a lake during the +night with a teaspoon full of holes. This present +task, when looked at in the cold light of reason, +appears just as impossible. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, in these childish stories there was +always a good fairy in disguise who came to the +rescue of the poor lad and helped him to perform +the impossible task to perfection; but there is +precious little chance of a good fairy turning up +at the opportune moment to assist Dick Baynes. +</p> + +<p> +So this unhappy wretch, bound by a promise +which he is quite unable to fulfil, and tantalised by +hopes of a reward which he can never earn, walks +away from the hut into the darkness of the night +and wanders aimlessly about the island, a prey to +his most distracting thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +He knows not whither he goes, but simply lets +his torturing fancies lead him whither they will. +</p> + +<p> +Netta of the grey eyes and ashen-gold hair, Netta +of the soft alluring voice and winsome ways, the girl +who fills every thought of his days and every dream +of his nights—Netta he must have for his very own; +and Netta he knows he can never have, since the +rash pledge he has made to her is one which he has +not the slightest chance of redeeming; and to that +pledge she will hold him, or deny herself. +</p> + +<p> +Brooding darkly over this maze of circumstances +from which there is no possible escape, Baynes comes +to the edge of the cliff near to where the pathway +runs down to the landing-place. +</p> + +<p> +It is still night, and the sea is quite calm. The +rising moon is beginning to light up with silver the +unruffled surface of the water. +</p> + +<p> +A sound falls on Dick's ears as he stands there, +in his perplexity and looks idly out over the waters, +a regular rhythmic sound of oars jarring against +rowlocks and of the slight splash made by the blades +dipping into the water at each stroke. +</p> + +<p> +The sound comes nearer, though as yet the boat +is not in sight. It is not very loud, either; +evidently it comes from quite a small boat, a skiff +probably, or perhaps a whaler; certainly not a +cutter—there is not noise enough for that. +</p> + +<p> +Then a dim light twinkles, low down on the +surface of the sea. It glows brighter each moment, +and is presently seen to be a boat's lantern in the +bows of a skiff manned by a single rower. +</p> + +<p> +Baynes still remains watching, out of idle curiosity; +in fact, he is so much wrapped up in his own concerns +that he can scarcely be said to watch at all. His +eyes see, but his mind takes in little or nothing. +</p> + +<p> +The solitary oarsman makes his boat fast by the +side of the little pier that runs out at the foot of +the cliffs, comes ashore, and, taking the boat's +lantern in his hand, walks rapidly up the hill. +</p> + +<p> +From his lower position he has no difficulty in +seeing the motionless figure of Dick Baynes standing +silhouetted against the skyline. He gives him a +hail on reaching the top of the path, and makes +straight towards him. +</p> + +<p> +He raises his lantern as he approaches so as to +see the man he is about to speak to, and at once +puts the question to him: +</p> + +<p> +"Have you seen the admiral anywhere, my man? +Do you know if he has left the island yet?" +</p> + +<p> +The lantern which is held up to give the speaker +a view of Dick Baynes' face also lights up his own. +And in the light of that lantern Baynes sees a sight +which sets his brain in a whirl. +</p> + +<p> +He is face to face with Lieutenant-Commander +Stapleton. +</p> + +<p> +No miracle has happened to bring about this +strange meeting, so much desired by one of the two +men at least yet so utterly unhoped for and +improbable. It simply happens as the natural result +of a most ordinary chain of circumstances. +</p> + +<p> +This is the way of it. Stapleton, on leaving the +island, has taken his steamboat straight to the +spot where stands, on another islet, the group of +official buildings amongst which is the house used +as the headquarters of the admiral in charge of the +base. +</p> + +<p> +He makes inquiries for the admiral, feeling that +the news he has to impart is of such importance +that it can be told to no one else. It is not usual, +no doubt, for a mere lieutenant-commander to deal +directly with an officer of flag rank in matters +affecting purely naval and not merely personal affairs; +but this is a matter of such consequence that Stapleton +feels no hesitation in breaking through the +ordinary routine; moreover, there is no time to +be lost—the court of enquiry is due to be held +to-morrow morning. +</p> + +<p> +Greatly to his annoyance, he is told that the +admiral has not yet returned to his house. The +secretary, however, is back, and would Mr. Stapleton +like to see him instead? +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Stapleton would. So Dimsdale appears, but +is not able to throw very much light upon the +admiral's movements; he was ashore tins afternoon, +but his barge was sent for him an hour ago. As +the barge has not yet returned, it is probable the +admiral is still on the island where he has been +taking a walk; on the other hand, he may have left +the island and gone to some other ship; he does +this sometimes, in fact there is no knowing what he +may do; he is in the habit of setting aside this part +of the day for recreation, and does not settle down +to official work again till after dinner, or, as a third +alternative, the barge may have gone round to the +other side of the island to wait for the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +Does Stapleton want to see the admiral urgently? +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton does. Very urgently indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Then, says Dimsdale, it is difficult to know what +course to recommend. The admiral is dining afloat +to-night, and has a meeting to attend to afterwards +which will keep him till close on midnight. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton comes away fuming with impatience. +He has already kept his steamboat longer than he +ought to have done, and must get back at once to +the ship where he is being accommodated for the +time being. +</p> + +<p> +Arriving there, he is perhaps fortunate in finding +the officer-of-the-watch a man very much junior to +himself, and so escapes the cursing which he deserves +for being so inconsiderate as to keep the one +steamboat such a long time; and although he makes +suitable apologies for his unwarranted behaviour, +he feels that the young sub-lieutenant at the head +of the gangway regards him with malevolent +disfavour. And as if to drive home the extent of his +shortcomings, the steamboat's crew are ordered to +shove off at once and do the next trip, which they +ought to have done an hour ago. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton smiles ruefully, remembering well the +similar worries of his own watch-keeping days. +He has not the heart to ask for anything more than +a skiff, though he feels that he can do no less than +make his way back to the island and seek the admiral +there. +</p> + +<p> +And meanwhile, blissfully unconscious of being +so much in request, the admiral has sent a message +back to his barge with orders to go round and wait +for him at the southern side of the island, as Dimsdale +has suggested he may have done; and, after saying +good night to Norah and Netta in the hut, has +walked across the island in the gathering twilight +and thence gone afloat and taken the long sea-route +home. This explains why Stapleton on coming +down to the landing-place found no other boat +except his own waiting there, and so concluded +that the admiral must have returned to his +house. +</p> + +<p> +The request for the skiff is readily granted, though +the sub-lieutenant on watch thinks to himself that +this guest with the two-and-a-half stripes on his +arm is a regular whale for boat trips. However, +Stapleton propitiates him by stating that he will +not require any hands to man the skiff, but will go +alone and use the sculls. It is better so, on the +whole, he reflects. Secrecy is very desirable on such +a mission as his, and even the anxiety which is +bound to be shown in his face may give too much +away. Better be alone. +</p> + +<p> +So, pulling the skiff by himself across the placid +waters to the distant island, he makes for the pier +at the landing-place and there makes fast his boat. +</p> + +<p> +Stepping ashore, he is still at a loss as to what +course to pursue in his search; perhaps it will +be best to go first to the hut and there to make +enquiries; after that, if no news is obtainable there, +the only thing left to do will be to walk across +the island to the other landing place and see if the +admiral's barge is still there or not. +</p> + +<p> +Ha! There is a man standing at the top of the +cliff. This will be some one to enquire of, at any +rate; and no chance must be overlooked. +</p> + +<p> +So Stapleton walks up to the man and raises his +lantern. +</p> + +<p> +And he recognises, as he puts his question, the +man whose fatal interruption this very afternoon, +has parted him and Norah for ever and set afoot +all this fearful trouble. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap23"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXIII +</h3> + +<p> +Dick Baynes is a man of strong passions but +few ideas. His friends sometimes described him +as a man whose heart was stronger than his +head, and he did not resent the description but rather +gloried in it. After all, ideas can be bought for base +coin, but the finer feelings are a man's own inheritance, +and can neither be purchased nor bartered away. +And Baynes was intelligent enough to deal with all +the matters of his ordinary life and routine—and +what can a man want more than that? +</p> + +<p> +It was in the extraordinary affairs of life that +he was apt to fail; or rather, not to fail so much +as to be just a little bit slow in adapting himself +to the problems of the moment. +</p> + +<p> +It is certainly a very unusual problem which he is +now suddenly called upon to solve. +</p> + +<p> +The kind fairy of the story-books has not indeed +taken the whole of his difficult task put of his hands +and completed it for him; perhaps her power has +weakened somewhat in the many centuries that +have elapsed since the golden age; but it cannot +be denied that she has worked to the best of her +ability, or at least as much as could be expected of +her, in bringing Lieutenant-Commander Stapleton +face to face with Baynes in this most unexpected fashion. +</p> + +<p> +Now it is up to Baynes to solve the remaining +part of the problem for himself. +</p> + +<p> +Unfortunately, his brain is only able to light upon +one solution—the one which he has already +suggested to Netta, thereby rousing her to a +horror-stricken remonstrance. +</p> + +<p> +Well, he quieted her then by a promise, easily +made and as easily accepted; but is such a promise +to hold good? +</p> + +<p> +If he breaks it, need she ever know? Or if she +does get to know, will she mind so very much when +the deed is done if she sees that her purpose is +thereby effected? +</p> + +<p> +Besides, what alternative is there? Of course, +Baynes does not mean to do any lasting bodily harm. +He knows his great strength, and is confident that he +can use it to a nicety, as he has so often done in the +boxing ring; he can deal a man a blow that would +slay a bullock, or on the other hand he can give +a novice just such a gentle tap as to make him +believe that he is really putting up a serious fight; +for Baynes is a good sportsman. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, but this is not a very sporting proposition +that he is in for now! +</p> + +<p> +Well, it cannot be helped. This officer's lips +have to be closed for the next two or three days, +and there is only this one way for Baynes to do the +job; otherwise—Netta will never be his. +</p> + +<p> +<i>To do the job!</i> An ugly sound in the expression! +And an ugly business it is, altogether. +</p> + +<p> +Baynes dislikes it more and more, as he stands +facing the other man and deciding rapidly on what +has to be done. +</p> + +<p> +"Can't you speak, my man? What is the matter +with you—why don't you answer my question?" Baynes +has been silent in his own unpleasant reflections, +and Stapleton may perhaps be excused for a +little impatience and irritation. +</p> + +<p> +The words snapped out in his face bring a bright +idea to the sailor's mind—the one sole idea he has +been able to light upon in all his difficulties. And +it is not such a bad idea either; rather a good one, +in fact. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Can't you speak? What is the matter with you?</i> +Well, the matter shall be, thinks Baynes, that I am +<i>drunk</i>. That is why I cannot answer his question, +and that will help to explain why I am in a fighting +mood. +</p> + +<p> +It is much to Baynes' credit that he does not even +for a moment think that this may also help later to +lighten the punishment that is bound to come to him. +He is too good a fellow, too much of a sportsman, to +entertain such an idea. Having determined in his +course of action he means to see it through and +does not waste a moment in thinking about the +consequences to himself. +</p> + +<p> +And mind you, he regrets very much the necessity +that is laid upon him. He does not want in the least +to harm this officer, he has not the slightest personal +grudge against him. But, there it is; it is a +necessity, or his passion has made it so. +</p> + +<p> +He begins therefore to act his part, and lurches +heavily against the man facing him; who steps +aside, so that the seaman feigns to stumble and +almost falls. +</p> + +<p> +"Pull yourself together, you fool," Stapleton +not unkindly bids him. "You're all right, if you'll +make up your mind to it. I want to ask you an +important question, so buck up and listen to me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Don' wan' any queshuns," burbles the drunken +man, "an' don' wan' any lip from you! So look +out for y'shelf!" and with the words he aims a blow +at the other's face. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton steps aside just in time to avoid the +clumsy blow, and again speaks to the man, a good +deal more sharply this time. +</p> + +<p> +It is to no purpose that he speaks. The man comes +for him again; he is evidently fighting drunk. And +once more Stapleton has to move pretty smartly +to avoid a swinging blow. +</p> + +<p> +Now, his only course is to leave the man and +retire. There is nothing to be got out of him in this +state. It is a cursed nuisance, but it is only one +more annoyance in a series of unhappy occurrences. +</p> + +<p> +All very well—but the man will not let him +retreat so easily. The intoxicated sailor comes after +him and evidently means business. +</p> + +<p> +This must be stopped. Stapleton dislikes the +idea of striking one in an inferior position, and still +more the idea of striking a man in liquor. But it has +to be done, or there will be more trouble. So he +turns and faces his pursuer, and stands to await +the next onset. +</p> + +<p> +Nor has he long to wait; and when the lumbering +seaman reaches for him he anticipates events by +cleverly getting in a short punch with his left. +</p> + +<p> +But, to his great surprise, the blow fails to get +home; it is met with all the skill of an old hand +in the tactics of the ring, and a moment later Stapleton +has to make use of all his wits to guard himself. +And the thought flashes across his mind that this +sailor fights uncommonly cleverly for a drunken +man! +</p> + +<p> +So he begins to take the affair more seriously, and +puts a little more effort into his attempt to give the +other fellow just enough to make him see reason +and let him alone. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, as he goes on, he begins to realise more and +more that he has rather to act on the defensive than +otherwise. The affair is developing into a bigger +thing than he thought—and how the deuce is it +going to end? +</p> + +<p> +But Baynes also is not free from a big surprise. +He has not reckoned with the chance of being up +against another boxing man, and he finds himself now +fighting a man whose strength and skill in +ringcraft are undoubtedly almost equal to his own! +</p> + +<p> +The strange fight goes on in a weird silence, +beneath the light of the moon; sometimes, indeed, +they actually have to stop while the darkness of an +overshadowing cloud makes it impossible to do +more than dimly descry the vague outlines of each +other's form. The blood of both is up, and there +is no question now of the one trying to avoid the +other. Instead, they make use of these short spells +of semi-darkness while the swift clouds fly across +the moon as intervals between rounds, by mutual +unspoken consent. +</p> + +<p> +Now, on the moonlight reappearing, they are at +it again, fighting warily, and with all the skill they +can command. There is no sound but that of their +quick and labouring breath, and now and then of a +smothered grunt as a blow gets home. +</p> + +<p> +Both of them are getting badly punished. It is +impossible, in such a light, to ward off many a blow +that could easily have been avoided had it not been +for this. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap24"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXIV +</h3> + +<p> +Although he is faced with no mean antagonist, +Baynes, without question, is slightly the +better man of the two with his fists, as he is +also the more powerful and has the longer reach. +And there is very little doubt that if the conditions +of the fight were those of an ordinary contest the +seaman would come off the victor, even though he +might have to last several rounds before finally +deciding the matter. +</p> + +<p> +As it is, however, the fickle chances of a fight in +semi-darkness tend rather to equalise matters +between the two. In fact, fortune comes to the +aid of the weaker man, and, aided by a cloud +suddenly blotting out the light of the moon, Stapleton +gets in a blow which the other fails to ward +off. The blow falls true on the mark, and Baynes +goes reeling and stumbling to his knees. +</p> + +<p> +Now is Stapleton's chance to break away and +get clear of this drunken, fighting fool; but no—he +is far too much exhausted himself to do more +than stand, with his arms hanging limp at his +sides and his head bowed forward, heaving deep +breaths in the effort to get his wind. +</p> + +<p> +Baynes is the first to recover. He sees that he +must make an end of the affair. It is not proving +so easy as he thought it would be to manhandle +his antagonist to such an extent as to place him +completely out of action for a few days. He has +no mind to prolong a mere blindfold boxing +contest such as this is becoming and, what is more, +his blood is now thoroughly roused, and the cautious +scheming of his original plan has given place to the +fierce fighting lust of the primitive man battling +with his fellow savage. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, he must make an end of it—and the +conventions of fair play and the rules of the game +can go hang; the great thing is to finish the other +man off—by any and all means possible. +</p> + +<p> +With this intent, Baynes springs to his feet again +and makes for his man. Stapleton stops his rush +with a simultaneous right and left—or thinks to +stop it. But the primitive savage now raised in +the big seaman takes little heed of these punishing +body blows. On he comes still and closes with his +opponent, with one thought alone in his mind—to +get him beaten. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton feels himself locked in a pair of arms +like steel cables; his legs are pinned—this is +wrestling now, and foul wrestling at that!—and his body +is being gradually forced back; he is taken +unprepared. He strains against the pressing weight +of the heavier man; but strain as he may, he finds +himself still being forced backwards, and feels that +unless he can do something, and that quickly, in +another minute his back will be broken. +</p> + +<p> +But it is not for nothing that Stapleton himself +has done some pretty good wrestling in his time. +There are not many tricks of the game which he +has not learnt and practised. +</p> + +<p> +He knows that the other man will be obliged to +take breath in a second or two, and that then will +be his opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +The moment comes, and with it a slight relaxing +of the pressure. Then, as well he knows how, +Stapleton cleverly slips downwards from the circling +arms and gets half free. +</p> + +<p> +In a second the two are closed again, but this +time neither can be said to have all the advantage +on his side, it is more equal. +</p> + +<p> +They sway to and fro, and shift their feet rapidly, +manœuvring to get a good hold. +</p> + +<p> +And neither of them takes notice of the fact that +in their struggles they are getting dangerously near +the edge of the cliff. +</p> + +<p> +Near it? Good God, they are over! Still heaving +and struggling, locked in each other's arms, +they come unseeing to the top of the precipitous +bank overhanging the rocks on the foreshore. The +soft earth breaks away beneath their feet, and in +the dark they cannot see to save themselves—indeed, +it would be too late in any case, so little is +either inclined to relax his deadly grip of the other. +</p> + +<p> +So the fight comes suddenly to an end—a tragic +end. +</p> + +<p> +Tragic enough at least for one of them. The +heavier man falls underneath, and is dead as soon +as he strikes the rocks below. Dick Baynes, who +an instant before was a fine, powerful creature of +mighty muscles and quick stirring blood, a man +full of life, able to love like a man and fight like a +man—is now a lifeless lump of dehumanised clay, +broken and bruised beyond recognition. +</p> + +<p> +This is what Netta, that delicate, fair, feminine +thing, has won by her scheming. True, she meant +well: her only object was to save her cousin from +a threatened danger and she had no thought the +result of her own actions would ever be anything +like this—but what sadder epitaph can be written +over the grave of one's dead actions than these very +words: "He meant well; he never thought!" +</p> + +<p> +Yet Netta must not be blamed too harshly; in +truth, the mischief can be traced to a source much +farther back than her own unthinking attempt at +intrigue; it goes back to the evil brains of those +who first planned the vile plot against the <i>Marathon</i>. +The death of honest Dick Baynes is but a later +fruit of that noxious growth; and the strong poison +of that evil weed is not even yet exhausted. +</p> + +<p class="thought"> +* * * * * +</p> + +<p> +The young sub-lieutenant is beginning to be rather +worried about the skiff, and very much annoyed +with Lieutenant-Commander Stapleton for not +coming back with it. +</p> + +<p> +"Confound the fellow," he says to himself, +"first he takes away our one and only steam bus +and keeps it all the afternoon as if he was a blighted +admiral with a barge of his own, and then, if you +please, he must go and borrow the skiff-dinghy and +proceed to make a night of it!" +</p> + +<p> +It must be admitted that the officer of the watch +has a certain amount of justification for his moan. +However, as soon as eight bells strike and he turns +over to his relief who is to keep the first watch, he +shifts his burden of trouble on to the shoulders of the +next man and promptly dismisses the whole affair +from his mind. After all, it is none of his business: +and seeing that in the ordinary round of his daily +care-worn existence it frequently falls to his lot to +be obliged to take on the troubles and anxieties of +other watch keepers, he is quite entitled to pass on +his own worries now; as he unhesitatingly does, +and forthwith goes below to find a fresh grievance +in that the watch dinner has not been kept properly +hot. +</p> + +<p> +The officer of the first watch has the same thing +to turn over to his relief; and the middle watch +keeper in turn passes on the knowledge to the rather +sleepy and very disgruntled officer who turns up +on the quarter-deck at twenty minutes past four to +keep the morning watch. As his immediate predecessor +has been kept waiting these twenty minutes +he is not in the best of humour himself and a slight +friction arises between the two, which happily vents +itself in a shower of lurid objurgations directed +against the skiff-dinghy and the misbegotten officer +who has borrowed the boat and not brought it +back. +</p> + +<p> +The officer of the morning watch thinks it better, +under the circumstances, to go himself to the +commander's cabin instead of sending the quartermaster, +to carry out the directions contained in the +commander's Night Order Book—"Call me at 5.30." +</p> + +<p> +He knocks as he pulls aside the curtain and steps +into the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +"Commander, sir? It is half-past five. And—er, +the skiff has not come back yet, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"Eh? What's that?"—The commander, according +to his usual habit, is quite wide awake +the moment he is called, and begins at once to take +an interest in the affairs of the ship in which he +combines the duties of upper housemaid with those +of acting-God-Almighty. +</p> + +<p> +"Didn't he say where he was going when he went +away in the skiff?" he asks, on hearing the report +now made to him. +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir; that is to say, not so far as I know. +Nothing was turned over to me about it. I took +it for granted that he had gone across to some +other ship." +</p> + +<p> +"Never take anything for granted when you are +officer of the watch," comes the answer, a rebuke +without a sting since it is made in a kindly fashion and +comes from an officer who is known, to be just about +as efficient as they make 'em and keen as mustard +on every detail of the navy he serves and loves. +</p> + +<p> +The sub-lieutenant who had the last dog the +evening before, when Stapleton took the skiff away, +is roused to give what information he can; +unfortunate youth, having looked forward to the +pleasure of an all-night-in, not to go on watch again +till he should start at eight-thirty to keep the +forenoon, he is dragged from his bunk at quarter-to-six; +and consequently has several caustic remarks to +make about the habits and customs of the +energetic commander; but he keeps these remarks to +himself. +</p> + +<p> +As a result of this interview a general signal is +made asking if any ship has seen anything of +the missing skiff. And in a few minutes the reply +comes from a ship in an inshore billet that there +is a skiff tied up at the landing-place without a +boatkeeper, and that this skiff was noticed putting +in there last night. +</p> + +<p> +The steamboat is called away and sent in to see +if this may happen to be the one in question. It +proves to be so, as the boat's crew find out as soon +as they get to the pier. +</p> + +<p> +They find something else also. +</p> + +<p> +They find, jammed amongst the rocks, washed by +the incoming tide and half afloat at every wave, the +battered and disfigured body of a seaman, whose +wide staring eyes had in them the look as though +they were still seeking something that could never +be attained. A little brown silky-eared dog crouches +at his head, licking the dead man's face and from +time to time whining piteously, not understanding +why his master lies there and will not speak. +</p> + +<p> +And near him, just above the line of high water, +another body in the uniform of an officer. But this +one is not dead, as is presently found, only bruised +and faint, and utterly worn out by pain, shock, and +weariness. Indeed, he must have crawled half +unconsciously out of reach of the tide before he quite +succumbed. +</p> + +<p> +Even as his rescuers come up to him he is opening +his eyes and beginning feebly to try and struggle to +his feet. +</p> + +<p> +Very tenderly and carefully they help him, and +carry him to the steamboat; nor is it until they have +got him comfortably in the little cabin where he +can see nothing that they bring the other man also, +the dead man on board and lay the body on the +deck for'ard, covering it with boat's flags. +</p> + +<p> +And so they make their way back to the ship. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap25"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXV +</h3> + +<p> +Secretary Dimsdale may be bashful +enough in the presence of ladies. "They +frighten me, and I lose my head at once," +is his explanation of the fact—which perhaps +accounts for the corresponding fact that up to the +present he has never lost his heart. But away +from their alarming presence he is a very different +man, a shrewd, clear-headed thinker who can put +his finger on the essential point of a case in a brace +of shakes, the sort of man who might have made a +brilliant success as a barrister had he chosen to make +a career for himself in civil life. +</p> + +<p> +If he were not a man of this sort, he would never +have been picked out for a secretary; for an admiral's +secretary, whether on board or in an appointment +ashore, has to be a compendium of all the most lustrous +qualities of all the most learned professions; he +has to be able to talk like a parson, to diagnose like a +doctor, to argue and persuade like a lawyer, and +to do any or all of these things at a moment's notice; +and he must be a cultured man of the world into the +bargain. Even all these qualifications would be of +little use to him, they would never indeed be sufficient +of themselves to secure him his secretaryship, +unless he is a rattling good fellow who can win and +keep the confidence of everybody from the admiral +himself right down to the latest joined midshipman. +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale is just such a man; his one handicap, +his timidity with the fair sex, is a defect which +the admiral, who has known him for the past twenty +years, optimistically hopes he will some day grow +out of. Indeed, Dimsdale hopes so himself; but +up to the present he has shown very little sign to +encourage such hopefulness. +</p> + +<p> +When, therefore, he escapes from the clutches of +Norah and Netta on the fatal afternoon of his +accompanying the admiral ashore for a walk on the +island, he accepts with alacrity the task of conveying +a message to Patrick Sheridan; this is a matter he +can deal with—anything, in fact, so long as no more +women are mixed up in it. +</p> + +<p> +With that scrupulous conscientiousness which +characterises all his official dealings and has +contributed so much to his success as a secretary, he +determines to undertake the errand in person and +not to leave it to a subordinate. The more so, +since he looks upon his behest not as an official +duty but as an affair of honour; for with all his +bashfulness Dimsdale has a very high regard for +women, a knightly regard, and looks upon an errand +entrusted to him by one of their number as a charge +which he is in honour and duty bound to fulfil to +the very letter. +</p> + +<p> +On leaving the island, therefore, he proceeds +straight to the depôt ship where Sheridan is lodged, +and makes enquiries as to where he may be found. +</p> + +<p> +O'Brien, the fleet-surgeon of the depôt ship, who +has been taking a stroll on the quarter-deck by way +of getting a little exercise in spite of being tied to +the ship by the Medical Guard, meets the secretary +as he comes on board and answers his enquiries. +</p> + +<p> +"Is it that fellow Sheridan ye're wanting to see, +then? Begad, ye'll be lucky if ye can succeed in +setting eyes on him, for it's a thing none else of us +can do, an' thass a fact! Or may be ourselves that's +the lucky ones, for of all the cross-grained murdherin' +divils I ever came across in me life, sorra a one did +I ever see to bate this ugly-looking shcoundrel! +I'm an Irishman meself—though I regret to say +I've lost the thrick o' the tongue of my own +mother-speech, and many's the one takes me for an +Englishman, notin' the entoire absence of brogue in +me—but though I tried my best to act friendly towards +him when he came on board, he would have no +daylin's with me. It's his sort that brings the +ould counthry into disrepute, bad luck to them!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, where can I find him?" asks the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"In his own cabin, where he sits and refuses to +come out or speak to a living soul. He insists on +having his meals there—and judging by the number +of trips the wine-steward makes to an' fro I should +say he is a deal more thirsty than hungry—and +there he shtays and refuses all attempts to persuade +him to act like a sociable being and come into the +mess with the rest of us." +</p> + +<p> +It is not very encouraging; but Dimsdale is not +the man to take much account of a little discouragement. +</p> + +<p> +He finds his way to the cabin where Sheridan has, +metaphorically speaking, barricaded himself in, +and knocking at the tightly-closed door is greeted +with a surly "Who's there?" +</p> + +<p> +Taking this for sufficient invitation to enter, +without waiting for any further preliminaries, +Dimsdale smartly pulls back the sliding door and +then with another quick sweeping motion flings +aside the thick brown curtain which further impedes +his entrance, and sets foot inside the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +"Heavens, man, what an atmosphere! How +can you live in a place shut up like this?"—is his +first greeting; and no wonder—for to a man coming +from the open air and the sunshine this cabin, +hermetically sealed, is like a foul dungeon! +</p> + +<p> +Like a dungeon indeed—like a condemned cell, +almost; for the man who occupies it conveys the +exact impression of a criminal sunk in the lethargy +of despair. +</p> + +<p> +He is seated on the narrow bunk, with his legs +hanging over the edge, and facing the doorway; +he is huddled up with his elbows on his knees and +his face in his hands, the very picture of a trapped +enemy of society. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he is a free man, if he would use his freedom; +he can mix with the other men on board, and he +hopes in a day or two to be more free still—to get +clear away from this disquieting place where the +spirit of law and discipline irks his mind and +troubles his conscience, if he has any conscience +remaining to him. Yes, he has made his plans for +escaping to the south and losing himself amongst +the multitudes—though there is one bothering +matter which causes him a little anxiety; that +court of enquiry, which he has heard is to take +place on the morrow. +</p> + +<p> +In one respect the dark cabin is extremely unlike +a prison cell; it reeks with the odour of tobacco, +and with the nauseating fumes of whisky; and +judging by the strength of both these perfumes, the +occupant of the cabin has been indulging himself +pretty freely. The effect upon him is to make him +even more surly and morose than he is by nature. +</p> + +<p> +"What have ye come in here for? What d'ye +want?" are the first words he speaks. +</p> + +<p> +"I have a message for you from your cousin, Miss +Norah Sheridan," answers the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"Where is it? Give it to me"—stretching out +his hand and half uncovering his dark and +unprepossessing face. +</p> + +<p> +"It is not a written message, only a verbal one," +explains Dimsdale. "Miss Sheridan asked me to +tell you that she particularly desires to see you +to-morrow morning. I shall be happy to arrange for +a boat to be at your disposal at any time convenient +to you." +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan makes no reply to this polite communication, +unless it can be said to be in the nature of +a reply that he lowers his hands from his face and +glares fixedly and malignantly at the other man. +</p> + +<p> +For about the space of a minute he remains in +this ill-humoured silence, and it is doubtful whether +he has even listened to the message. But presently +he suddenly gives tongue, and rasps out: +</p> + +<p> +"Tell her I'll be with her at ten o'clock sharp." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, but I'm afraid that will be a little too +early, will it not?" +</p> + +<p> +"And for why? Did ye not tell me I could +suit my own convenience as to the time?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that is true; but I was forgetting, or at +least I took it for granted that you understood, +there is to be a court of enquiry on the loss of the +<i>Marathon</i> at nine, at which your presence is +requested." +</p> + +<p> +"And why should I be present? Do they think +I sank the blasted ship? I will not come, then!" +</p> + +<p> +"I myself shall be there, Mr. Sheridan, and yet +it is quite certain that I did not sink the ship," +answers Dimsdale quietly. "You are under a +misapprehension—A court of enquiry is not a +court-martial; it is not held to try a prisoner, only +to sift matters and endeavour to throw a little light +on cases which need clearing up. As you happened +to be on board the <i>Marathon</i> shortly before she +was lost, it is only natural that the court should +wish to question you amongst all the other witnessess." +</p> + +<p> +"What reason have they to suspect me?" Sheridan +cries angrily springing down from the +bunk to the deck and standing to face Dimsdale +in a menacing attitude. "Is this the way you +think right to treat a shipwrecked man. I'll not +come!" +</p> + +<p> +"It is not a case of suspecting you, or anyone +else," the calm voice answers reassuringly; "they +will merely question you on any points that may +happen to occur to them, with the object of leaving +no stone unturned that may chance to throw some +light on what is at present a mystery. Probably +your share in the examination will only last a few +minutes, as you obviously can know very little +about it. But I am afraid you will have to make +up your mind to be present at the enquiry, though +I regret very much that you should be put to such +an inconvenience." +</p> + +<p> +"It <i>is</i> an inconvenience—a cursed inconvenience," +moodily growls the other. "I—I would rather +not come at all. I'm busy!" +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale can hardly suppress a smile; it is very +plainly evident what it is that keeps the solitary +man so busy; the spirit bottles, one empty and the +other half empty, on the writing-table are evidence +enough to this! +</p> + +<p> +But the tendency to smile vanishes when Dimsdale +reflects that the excuse is not only rather ludicrous +but also exceedingly clumsy. +</p> + +<p> +<i>Why</i> should the man invent such a lame excuse? +What is there to keep him from attending the court +of enquiry, and for what reason is he so obviously +unwilling to be present? +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale is a good fellow, and hates above all +things to conceive a dislike for a man without any +good reason—he rightly considers it the mark of +an ill-balanced mind to do such a thing. But he is +uncomfortably conscious of the fact that he has +taken a prejudice against this man. Ever since +he entered the cabin the feeling has been growing +in him—"There's something mighty queer about +this chap; he's a wrong 'un, if ever there was +one." +</p> + +<p> +And he is ashamed of himself for allowing such a +feeling to take hold of him—yet it will not be +suppressed. It is a shame to entertain suspicions of +a man in such unfortunate circumstances as this! +Dimsdale upbraids himself for giving way to such +unworthy sentiments—and finds the sentiments +growing stronger every moment! +</p> + +<p> +"I'll thank ye to take a letter to me cousin," +says Sheridan, after he has swallowed the unpleasant +dose of his enforced presence at the court on the +morrow; he also swallows something else to wash it +down, and finding that one draught is not sufficient +to take away the taste follows it up with another. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly," replies Dimsdale, pleased to see his +man becoming slightly more reasonable, "if you +will write it now I will take it with me, and it shall +be given to her either to-night or the first thing +to-morrow morning." +</p> + +<p> +"To-night would be better," is Sheridan's ungracious +remark, as he takes a sheet of note-paper +from the writing-table. Then, in a bemused fashion, +he fumbles in his pockets for a pencil, and after a +little search finds one. +</p> + +<p> +As he takes it from his pocket something comes +with it and falls with a little metallic tinkle to the +deck. +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan's foot covers it instantly; the incident, +slight as it is, appears to have sobered him on the +moment. He looks furtively at the other man, +to see if he has observed anything. +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale's eyes, however, are fixed upon a picture +on the furthest bulkhead of the cabin, proof positive +that his attention has not been attracted by the +sound of the falling object, whatever it was. +</p> + +<p> +But he has seen it, though he pretends otherwise. +He has seen also the quick, stealthy movement of +Sheridan's foot. He never gives a single glance in +that direction while Sheridan writes and seals up +the letter, nor indeed does he look downwards for +the rest of the time that he is in the cabin. +</p> + +<p> +But his quick eyes have observed a little round +disc of metal enamelled with a device of certain +signs. +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale knows very well what this little badge +means, and the significance of those signs. +</p> + +<p> +It is part of his business to know such things. +And he is also well aware that upon the fact that +Sheridan believing him unobservant hangs his chance +of getting out of the cabin alive. +</p> + +<p> +But he waits for the letter to be finished and +placed in his hands without betraying the slightest +sign of this. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap26"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXVI +</h3> + +<p> +"Under ordinary circumstances," says the +secretary to himself when he gets back to +his private office, "I should describe it +as the act of a dirty dog to open another man's +letter, especially a letter addressed to a lady. But, +having regard to, well, having regard to that +curious ornament so skilfully concealed beneath the +flat foot of our extremely morose friend, I think +on the whole that the dirty dog business becomes +an unpleasant duty." +</p> + +<p> +With which reflection he turns the letter over in +his hands, and inspects it closely from the outside. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, if it should turn out to be just an ordinary +letter, saying that he has got a couple of stalls for +the Coliseum, or asking her to come and have a +cocktail as it's his birthday, or something of that +sort, I shall feel rather a fool," he muses, "but in +any case," he continues with a smile, becoming more +of the complete villain as he warms to his task, +"she won't know anything about it." +</p> + +<p> +This at least is true. The function of censor, +forced on him by the exigencies of war, has at least +taught Dimsdale the art of opening even the most +carefully stuck down envelope and sealing it up again +in such a manner that the recipient would never +suspect that such an operation has been performed. +</p> + +<p> +Very deliberately and carefully he makes use of +the skill he has acquired, and the methods he employs +are so delicate and so efficient that in a few minutes +the letter opens as if by a magic touch, and the +message lies spread out on the table before him. +</p> + +<p> +It is a very short letter, no more than a few words. +Dimsdale reads them over and over again, until he +has got them off by heart; and in truth this is not +a matter of much difficulty, for all that he has to +learn is just this: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="salutation"> +"DEAR NORAH, +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"<i>There is to be a court of enquiry to-morrow +morning. They want me at it, and I shall have to +be there. There is no need for you to come, for you +cannot tell them any more than I can, and it will +only upset you after all you have been through. +Tell Netta that she must not dream of coming as +she is in far too weak a state to do any such thing. +I am sure they will excuse you both. You had better +stay in bed and rest yourselves until we leave. Mind, +you are not on any account to risk coming to-morrow.</i> +</p> + +<p class="closing"> + "<i>Your affect. Cousin,</i><br> + PATRICK."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +A very carefully worded letter, thinks Dimsdale; +the man must have been a good deal more sober than +he looked when he wrote it; he has his wits about +him, at all events, and if he is really a wrong 'un +he will require some pretty careful handling +to-morrow. +</p> + +<p> +"And now to deliver the letter," he says aloud. +And in spite of the fact that darkness has now fallen +he at once sets about getting the boat called away to +take him to the island. +</p> + +<p> +Almost as soon as he has started he overtakes in +the darkness a skiff pulled by a single man, and the +wash of the steamboat nearly swamps the small +craft, so that Dimsdale labouring at the sculls curses +the coxswain for an unhandy bat-eyed lubber. But +the steamboat goes unheeding on its way, and is +starting back again before Stapleton has got halfway +to the landing-place. +</p> + +<p> +Arriving at the hut, Dimsdale is greeted by +Mrs. Shaw—the only feminine creature who does not +inspire him overwhelmingly with fear; and on +his saying that he wishes to see Miss Sheridan, lays +himself open to the good creature's bantering +remarks: +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose you mean Miss Netta Sheridan? +You appeared to be getting along very nicely with +her a little while ago! And now you have scarcely +been a couple of hours away from the place and must +needs come gallivanting after her again. +Mr. Dimsdale, I'm pleased to note this reformation in +you. But, as it happens, you can't see her just +now; she is engaged with another admirer, a fine, +handsome young bluejacket, a much better-looking +man than you are!" +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale disclaims any desire to speak with Miss +Netta. It is Miss Norah he desires to see—he has a +note for her which he has promised to deliver as +soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +"That being the case," observed Mrs. Shaw, +"you can see her at once; she doesn't happen to +have any young man hanging about her at the present +moment; though if you had been here an hour +or so ago——! Well, well, go in there; you'll +find her alone in that room—and I only hope you'll +come out of it alive!" +</p> + +<p> +With this parting thrust at his well-known +timidity, she motions him to the door of the room +and leaves him. +</p> + +<p> +But Dimsdale's timidity falls from him, even in the +unaccompanied presence of a beautiful girl, when he +has a definite object to pursue; and in this case +he certainly has such an object, namely to try and +sift the mystery of Patrick Sheridan in order to find +out whether there has been any mischief afoot. +</p> + +<p> +Explaining the purpose for which he has come at +such an hour, he hands the letter to Norah, and +watches her very closely while she reads it. +</p> + +<p> +Will she betray any secret knowledge, anything +to give him a hint, a clue, by the tremor of her +eyelids or the quiver of her lips? +</p> + +<p> +She gives no such sign, but reads the short missive +to its close without changing in the slightest degree +the expression of her features, and deliberately +folds the letter up and places it again in the envelope. +</p> + +<p> +"Is there any answer you would like to send?" +asks the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"None, thank you," she replies briefly, and waits +in silence, evidently expecting him to go. +</p> + +<p> +This is not encouraging. Dimsdale did not +expect that there would be any answer to the letter, +knowing that it required none; but he hoped for +something a little more illuminating than this. +</p> + +<p> +He casts about in his mind for something to say +which shall appear natural and at the same time lead +to a more fruitful conversation. +</p> + +<p> +One thing causes him embarrassment; he is in +the dark as to whether the girls have yet heard +of the loss of the <i>Marathon</i> or not; the admiral, it is +true, enjoined silence on the subject, but that was +in the early part of the afternoon, and a good many +people may have been talking since then. Besides, +Norah seems to understand Sheridan's letter, with +its reference to a court of enquiry. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you heard any news to-day, Miss Sheridan?" It +is a lame start, but better than nothing. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you mean the terrible news of the loss of the +ship which rescued us last night? Yes, I have heard +of it, and am more shocked and distressed than I can +possibly tell you," she replies. +</p> + +<p> +Her answer sounds frank enough, but in reality +she is fencing with him. Norah is beginning to feel +afraid. Why does this man sit there, with his +questions and the look of an inquisitor in his piercing +eyes? +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, you have heard of it then," he remarks +sympathetically: "I am sorry—we hoped to +have kept it from you, at least till to-morrow +morning." +</p> + +<p> +"Why till to-morrow morning only?" she asks. +</p> + +<p> +"Because there is a sort of enquiry to be held +about the unfortunate occurrence then, and it may +be necessary to ask you and your cousin to be +present." +</p> + +<p> +"I will certainly be there," comes the frank, +almost eager reply, "and shall be glad if I can be of +any use. So will Netta too, if she is well enough, +though you must have seen for yourself this +afternoon that she is in a very weak state." +</p> + +<p> +"I did notice it, and was very sorry to see it, +though not at all surprised," he makes answer; +and then subsides into silence again. +</p> + +<p> +The affair is not progressing! This girl shows no +disinclination to making a statement and undergoing +examination at the court of enquiry. It is all very +perplexing, and Dimsdale begins again to hate himself +for being such a cad as to venture false suspicions. +But then that little enamelled badge falling from +Sheridan's waistcoat pocket! +</p> + +<p> +In the lull of conversation is heard the sound of a +door opening and closing again and footsteps on the +gravel path outside diminishing into the distance. +"Perhaps you would like to see my cousin before +you go?" invites Norah. "I hear her visitor +going, so you will find her alone if you care to go +into the room opposite." +</p> + +<p> +Nothing but the utmost frankness, she feels, can +save them now. Netta may betray something, but +that risk has to be taken; the main thing is not to +appear to wish to hide anything or to have anything +to hide. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you. I think I should like to, if you are +sure she won't mind," he says; and after a courteous +farewell finds himself a moment later knocking +gently at the door of Netta's room. +</p> + +<p> +He enters, after having waited a while with no +reply to his knocking, thinking that she has +probably left to join Mrs. Shaw, but wishing to make +certain of the fact. +</p> + +<p> +But Netta is still in the room when Dimsdale +goes in. He discovers her lying prone upon the +couch with her head buried in her arms, sobbing +as if her heart would break. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, why are you crying?" he exclaims, overcome +with surprise and some other emotion—at the +sight. "I—I don't want you to cry like that!" +</p> + +<p> +This is not at all what he meant to say! +</p> + +<p> +There is no answer, except more sobbing. +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale approaches the weeping girl with slow +and hesitating steps. He feels that he ought to go +away and leave her to her distress, but some new +and unaccustomed force seems to lead him in +the other direction. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he does not know in the least what to say +or what to do. He has never before been placed in +circumstances like these. And the queer thing +about it is that although he feels mightily uncomfortable +and ill at ease, yet at the same time he would +not go away for worlds. +</p> + +<p> +Well, something must be done, anyhow! It is +to be feared that Dimsdale has almost forgotten the +fact that he came here in the character of an +investigator, determined on probing a mystery, or +at least on finding out whether a mystery existed. +</p> + +<p> +But he is faced with a greater mystery—that of a +woman's tears; and something within him calls +to him to make the attempt to fathom it, though +he has very little idea as to how to set to work. +</p> + +<p> +He is standing now by the side of the couch, +the girl sees him and recognises him, but gives no +hint of it. Her fierce sobs shake her frail body still, +and the ashen-gold luxuriance of her hair hides +all her face as she buries her head again in the +cushion. +</p> + +<p> +He is kneeling now by her side, and calling to her +softly in broken and disjointed sentences, beseeching +her to still her grief and tell him its cause. The +sobs come fainter as he continues speaking his +distressed appeals, fainter until they almost cease. +He is taking her into his arms now, and his lips +are pressed ever so gently upon the clustering gold +of her hair, while his words formulate themselves +with meaning more distinct and complete. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, my dear, my dear, don't cry any more! +Indeed there is no need!" +</p> + +<p> +Thus for the second time within a quarter of an +hour Netta finds herself clasped within a lover's +arms. But this time she does not shrink away +suffering herself to be held in an embrace which is +infinitely more tender and comforting than the +passionate clasp of the other; and although she +presently repeats her former dismissal with a softly +uttered, "Oh, go, please go!" yet there is a very +different tone underlying the words this time. +</p> + +<p> +And Dimsdale takes her at her word and departs. +He is very new to this sort of thing, be it remembered. +</p> + +<p> +But where is the keen prober of mysteries, the +unofficial detective, that entered the room only a few +minutes ago? +</p> + +<p> +Ah, Dimsdale, it is a good thing that Mrs. Shaw +does not see you as you take your departure! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap27"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXVII +</h3> + +<p> +"But I tell you I <i>must</i> see the admiral!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's all right, old man; you just lie +still as you are for a bit and we'll see what +we can do about it." The fleet-surgeon bends over the +cot in the sick bay where the patient is temporarily +accommodated, and with his best bedside manner +rearranges the pillows beneath the bandaged head +of the sick officer. He believes in humouring cases +of this sort; it is no good contradicting them—that +only upsets them; far better pretend to give +in to their idle fancies. +</p> + +<p> +And all the while, beaming suavely and answering +soothingly to the distracted appeals, he is thinking, +"I hope to goodness that hospital drifter will come +alongside soon. Once they have got him on board +the hospital ship they can deal with him all right; +they've got plenty of sisters and nurses to look +after him and keep him quiet if he gets fractious, +but with the small staff I've got here—well, I shan't +be sorry to get rid of him!" +</p> + +<p> +"Confound it, man, can't you see there's nothing +the matter with me? It is most important that I +should go and see the admiral at once. I must go, +I tell you!" +</p> + +<p> +"They always do think it most important that they +should get out of bed and go off somewhere or other," +thinks the fleet-surgeon; "these cases of slight +concussion are the very deuce and all." +</p> + +<p> +And he nods almost imperceptibly to the sick-berth +steward across the bed; by which the latter +understands that he is to go and summon the +attendant to help hold the patient down in case +he gives trouble. +</p> + +<p> +Really, it is not a very serious case of concussion, +to judge by all the symptoms; the eyes look all +right, and there is no sign of torpor. Moreover, there +are no bones broken to complicate the case. It +must be just the general shock which accounts for +this excited condition—that, and the reaction +after the distressing events connected with the loss +of the <i>Marathon</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Would you care for a lemon drink?" says the +fleet-surgeon, evading the patient's excited remarks; +"they make an awfully good brand of it in the sick +bay here. I tell you, lots of fellows try to go sick +just on purpose to get some. Would you like to +sample it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Lemon drink be damned!" cries Stapleton, +losing his temper completely. "I'm as well as you +are, and if you weren't a blithering fool you ought +to be able to see it for yourself without my telling +you! Why are you keeping me here? What in the +world do you imagine is the matter with me?" +</p> + +<p> +This particular fleet-surgeon believes not only in +humouring his fractious patients; he even goes so +far at times as to talk straight to them about their +ailments, without any evasion or pretence. It is +rather a bold plan, but sometimes it has marvellously +good results. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, old man," he says, "it's just this. You +have had a pretty bad time of it—got a pretty bad +biff on the head, you know; and unless you keep +quiet and rest for a day or two I won't answer for +the consequences." +</p> + +<p> +"But I assure you I feel perfectly well," answers +Stapleton in a tone of aggrieved surprise. "I'm +only just a bit shaken—that's nothing. My mind +is absolutely clear, and I'm not wandering, or +anything of that sort. There really is something which +the admiral ought to be told immediately. It isn't +hallucination on my part or any rot of that sort!" +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you what we'll do," offers the +fleet-surgeon with engaging frankness; "you turn round +and go to sleep for an hour or two, and then, when +you wake up, if you still have the same idea we shall +both know that it is genuine and no hallucination. +Come now, that's a fair offer, isn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton finds it increasingly difficult to keep +down his rising anger in face of this plausible +palavering. Yet he is sensible enough to see that he must +do so, if he will not fall deeper into suspicion as one +who is wandering in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +"No," he says, "I'm afraid that won't do at all. +You see, I must tell my news to the admiral at once, +while the court of enquiry is sitting. Before, if I can +get to him in time." +</p> + +<p> +He speaks so quietly and reasonably that the +fleet-surgeon is almost convinced, against his will. +</p> + +<p> +"I am quite willing to undergo any test you may +like to put me to," continues the patient with quiet +earnestness; "ask me any questions you like, try +me in any way you will, and I'll prove to you that +my brain is in perfect working order. As for the +rest of me, I'm quite all right in that respect too, +except for a slight feeling of stiffness and bruises." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," says the fleet-surgeon, thinking it wise +to take him at his word, "tell me exactly all that +happened to you last night, and how you came to +be in the condition you were found in this morning. +How did you manage to fall over the cliff?" +</p> + +<p> +"Fall over the cliff? Did I fall over it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Hm! Don't you remember it, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"I remember going ashore—and I remember +being helped into the boat just now. Do you mean +to tell me that—oh, of course it must be so—that +was last night and this is this morning!" +</p> + +<p> +"How did you get so near the cliff, away from +the path? And who was the sailor with you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Sailor? What sailor?" +</p> + +<p> +"You <i>don't</i> remember, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, hang it all, I remember borrowing the skiff +and going away by myself. I pulled in, and made +fast to the landing-place. My intention was to +look for the admiral, as I believed him to be still +somewhere on the island, and I wanted most urgently +to see him so as to tell him—what I still want to +tell him!" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes? And what then? What happened after that?" +</p> + +<p> +A blank, puzzled look overspreads Stapleton's +features. +</p> + +<p> +"I—I'm blest if I know!" is his crestfallen +reply. "Stop a minute. I've got it! No,—it's +gone again!" +</p> + +<p> +"There you are, see!" exclaimed the fleet-surgeon +triumphantly. "What did I tell you? +You see, your brain is not quite in working order: +but, if you do as I tell you and keep quiet, we'll +have you right again before you know where you +are." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, what the deuce did happen after I landed?" +muses the other, paying no attention to the doctor's +words, but engaged in trying to worry the thing out. +</p> + +<p> +A voice at the door of the sick bay makes an +interruption in this colloquy. +</p> + +<p> +"Hospital drifter just come alongside, sir. How +soon can you be ready?" +</p> + +<p> +It is the officer of the forenoon watch who speaks, +the same young sub-lieutenant who allowed Stapleton +to take the skiff away in the last dog of the previous +evening. And his soul within him is stirred with +righteous wrath against the offending officer. +</p> + +<p> +"I never came across any one like him for causing +so much trouble in a short time," he complains in +bitter meditation. "First he blows on board and +turns me out of my cabin; then he keeps the +steamboat as his own blooming private yacht the +whole of the afternoon; then he takes away the +skiff and loses her, and consequently gets me strafed +by the commander; and finally pinches four of the +hands to carry his blighted cot just when I haven't +got a man that can be spared! I hope to goodness +they will drop him in the ditch and drown him!" +</p> + +<p> +"What's that about a hospital drifter?" enquires +Stapleton in an ominously quiet voice. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you see, old man, you will be able to get +better food and more attention in the hospital ship; +so I'm sending you there for a few days." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm damned if you are!" shouts the stalwart +patient, flinging aside the bed-clothes and springing +out of the cot. "Here, give me my things at once; +I'm going to dress. I've had enough of this dashed +tomfoolery!" +</p> + +<p> +"Hold his legs! Here, you! Come here and +help! Ah, is that your game?" +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton has flung the unfortunate steward +sprawling across the adjoining cot, and turns +threateningly upon his chief tormentor. +</p> + +<p> +"If you lay a finger on me I'm afraid I shall have +to do the same to you," he cries. +</p> + +<p> +The fleet-surgeon, is no athlete, but he has the +heart of a lion; he needs it in his job. He braces +himself for an effort; there are the makings of a +very pretty rough house in the situation. +</p> + +<p> +Fortunately, its development suffers a timely +check; the captain of the ship at this moment +enters, politely solicitous as to the welfare of his +sick guest. +</p> + +<p> +It is a very unexpected tableau that meets his +surprised eyes. +</p> + +<p> +"What on earth—hallo, what is happening?" +he not unnaturally queries. +</p> + +<p> +Explanations follow, somewhat confusedly, those +of the fleet-surgeon being much more voluble and +pointed than the account given by Stapleton, who +stands quietly biding his time until the other has +finished. +</p> + +<p> +Then he tells his story, lucidly and calmly, again +insisting with the utmost earnestness that he has +most important information for the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"But," says the captain, "can't you see for +yourself that this may be nothing more than a +trick of the imagination? That knock on the head +you have got may account for the whole thing; +the fleet-surgeon says it is so, and although you +seem clear enough in your mind on other matters, +I think it is quite possible that you may be suffering +from the effects of the shock you have had. You +say you can't remember what took place last night +after you landed on the island?" +</p> + +<p> +"Unfortunately, no, sir. I have a perfectly clear +recollection of everything else, but just how I +happened to fall over the cliff remains a blank to +me. I can only imagine that in the dark we must +have got too near the edge, and either grabbled +hold of the other man to save him or he must have +grabbled hold of me. But, though I have no +explanation to offer of that, the point is that I +distinctly remember going ashore for the very +purpose of finding the admiral and speaking to him. +That doesn't fit in with the hallucination theory, +does it?" +</p> + +<p> +"What do you think, P.M.O.?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, I wouldn't altogether like to say what +there may not be something in what he says, but——" +</p> + +<p> +"Why can't you tell me all about it instead of +the admiral?" breaks in the captain, seeing a way +out of the difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton also sees hope in this, and grasps at +the suggestion. +</p> + +<p> +"I can't tell you all, sir," he replies with eagerness, +"but I can tell you enough to let you see how very +essential it is that I should go to the admiral at +once." +</p> + +<p> +Inwardly he is fuming with impatience; the +court of enquiry, as he knows, must have already +opened, and if matters are delayed much longer +he will be too late. +</p> + +<p> +But it is no use giving way to this impatience. +He must collect his wits to tell the captain just +enough and no more. +</p> + +<p> +The fleet-surgeon tactfully withdraws from the +sick-bay, beckoning to his attendants to do the +same, and leaves Stapleton to his private interview +with the captain. +</p> + +<p> +Just how much Stapleton tells him is known to +those two alone. But it has its effect—the captain +is evidently greatly impressed; more than that, +he is convinced. Stapleton's patience and insistence +have won, after all. +</p> + +<p> +Summoning the fleet-surgeon again, the captain +states his conviction that the sick officer really has +some secret information which ought to be imparted +to the court of enquiry; and the man of medicine +is so far persuaded that at last he consents to let +Stapleton go, only stipulating that he himself shall +accompany him as a necessary precaution. +</p> + +<p> +This is enough. The hospital drifter is sent away +again, and in her place the steamboat is called away. +Stapleton and his cautious medical adviser get +down into the boat and start off immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Will he be in time? That is Stapleton's one +thought now. +</p> + +<p> +And the sub-lieutenant on watch looks gloomily +after the departing steamboat, and murmurs +pessimistically, "More trouble! I hope the P.M.O. will +give him a dose of poison!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap28"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXVIII +</h3> + +<p> +Even the least of life's tragedies would be +sufficient to unnerve us completely and throw us off +our mental balance for the rest of our days if we +could visualise it thoroughly in all its details. +Fortunately, our powers of imagination are strictly limited, +and the proverb "What the eye does not see the heart +does not feel" has a very true application to those +great sufferings we hear or read about. The only +impression we get is just a dim blurred idea of +horror and sadness and pain; we are mercifully +spared the realisation of each throb of agony, each +bitter pang of mental torment. +</p> + +<p> +Even such impressions as we do succeed in getting +of the disasters which happen to other people would +be unendurable if we allowed ourselves to brood +upon them; we should probably go mad, or if we +escaped this we should at all events become so +utterly distracted that our usefulness in life would +be gone, and there would be no pleasure in our +days. +</p> + +<p> +The common sense of humanity has therefore +decided that a limit must be placed to grief, and +that the natural impulse to feel for others' +sufferings must not be permitted to interfere unduly +with the ordinary affairs of life. Though one half +the world should perish, the other half must still +go on. Though the breadwinner of the family is +brought home by his mates at the mine or the +factory crushed to death in some fearful accident, +there is still the children's dinner to be cooked. +</p> + +<p> +And the constant succession of disasters which +comes as the evil harvest of a war makes people +gradually fall into the habit of accustoming +themselves to hear of fresh disasters without exhibiting +any great display of feeling. The thing is too big, +and we are too small, too limited. It is not that we +are unsympathetic—we are full of sympathy, +indeed—but, well, we just become used to these +awful happenings. The noise of a gun going off +somewhere close at hand is rather a severe shock +to the nerves when it is heard for the first time, +but when the guns are heard all day long and every +day, it is not long before they cease to be noticed at all. +</p> + +<p> +So, if a ship were lost in the days before the war, +the whole country used to be overshadowed with +deep gloom which lasted for many a sad long day; +but when the evil fortunes of war brought one fine +ship after another to an untimely end with all her +crew—well, there was sympathy enough, especially +amongst those who were very closely affected by +the disaster, but even for these it became possible +to smile, nevertheless, and even to crack a joke. +</p> + +<p> +This was not callousness; it was merely human +nature asserting itself. And a fortunate thing for +ourselves and for the world in general that the +tendency to cheer up and make the best of a bad +job is more powerful than the opposite tendency +to brood unceasingly over what cannot be helped. +</p> + +<p> +Admiral Darlington, therefore, must not be +accused of being lacking in the finer feelings if he +has a placid look of contentment and the makings +of a well-pleased smile upon his jolly face, even +though he is presently to bring his mind to bear +upon the tragedy of the loss of the <i>Marathon</i>, with +so many of her officers and men. What is the +good of pulling a long face over the matter? If +he can help in any way to mitigate the sorrows +caused by the disaster, depend upon it he will do +so; before long, you may be sure, he will be putting +his hand into his pocket on behalf of the widows +and orphans. Meanwhile, he has just got outside +an uncommonly good breakfast, and is enjoying the +first pipe of the day, which, as all smokers will agree, +is the best pipe of all. Moreover, the sun is shining +in a cloudless sky, and the mail has just brought +him news that his youngest boy has successfully +passed into Osborne as a naval cadet, thereby +getting his foot, neatly encased in the uniform boot +which gives him immense pride, upon the first rung +of the ladder his father has climbed before him. +</p> + +<p> +So no wonder the admiral is inclined to look +upon the bright side of things, and to greet +Dimsdale with a cheery Good Morning when the +secretary comes into his room with a bundle of +letters and official papers in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +The admiral begins his working-day early. +Already, before breakfasting, he has been up for +a couple of hours, spending one of them in certain +violent physical exercises which he explains are +necessary to keep him in health and vigour, though +other people are apt to say unkindly that his real +aim in the vain one—vain in both senses of the +word—of preserving his youthful contour-line +amidships, the second hour he devotes to what he calls +clewing up any business left over from the day +before. He insists upon doing this unaided, and +it is not until breakfast is over that he calls for the +assistance of his secretary. +</p> + +<p> +It is a pleasant little morning room where the +admiral is seated, enjoying his pipe in a comfortable +arm-chair. The wide french windows look out +upon one of the many indentations of the harbour, +and provide a view of a little hamlet clustered in +the sheltering nook of a glen that widens out at the +water's edge. Over the wide heather-clad slopes +on either side are scattered here and there the tiny +cottages of outlying crofters, and where the land is +brought under cultivation the old men and the +women—the young men have all gone to the war—are +working busily to win from the rough, poor soil +such scanty return as Nature grudgingly gives in +these high and far-off edges of the world. The +hardy little oxen too, are called in to assist in the +work of the fields and altogether it is a very delightful +picture of a primitive honest life pursuing its daily +way in spite of the horrid noise and clash of distant +war, in a land bleak and barren enough to the casual +eye of a stranger, but dear as life itself to those born +and bred on it, and never losing its place in their +heart even though they wander to the world's end. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Dimsdale, and what have we got this +morning? Nothing very much, I hope; anyhow, +let's get through with it. We shan't have too much +time, with this other business coming along +presently. What's the first?" +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale picks out a letter from his pile and +hands it to the admiral. A faint trace of a smile +flickers at the corners of his lips as he does so. +</p> + +<p> +"Eh? What's this?" ejaculates the admiral +as he reads. "No—I will not become a patron of +the society for supplying bedsocks to Conscientious +Objectors! Tell 'em so, and be damned to 'em!" +</p> + +<p> +"Very good, sir," quietly answers the secretary. +"I'll tell them exactly what you say." +</p> + +<p> +"You can put it a lot stronger than that if you +like," says the other, with an indignant snort. +"Conscien——" the danger of too violent an +explosion checks him, and happily he sees the +humorous side of things just in time. "What a +nerve some people have!" is his very unofficial +comment. "Here, let's have the next one. You +can answer that any time." +</p> + +<p> +"This is a private letter to you, sir," says +Dimsdale, proffering a large envelope of an expensive +brand marked with a crest on the flap, "but it was +not marked private, and so got put in amongst my +lot; but it is evidently meant for you personally." +</p> + +<p> +The admiral pulls the letter out, and reads: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="salutation"> +"DEAR ADMIRAL DARLINGTON— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"<i>My son Ethelred is, as you are doubtless aware, +a midshipman on your boat. And now that the +inclement season is approaching, I shall be so +grateful if you will kindly see that he always changes +his undervest if he should happen to get wet, as I +am told one is quite apt to do when at sea.</i> +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"<i>Of course, I quite understand that your other +duties may sometimes render it impossible for you +to see to this matter yourself, but in that case I am +sure you would not mind telling the commander or +the coxswain or somebody to do it, and reminding +them from time to time.</i> +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"<i>Ethelred has been very carefully brought up, +and I am sure you must find him a great help to you. +Please do not let him go out in one of those little +steamboats if the weather is at all rough, as I think +they are very dangerous.</i> +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +"<i>I hope my boy does not suffer from sea-sickness, +but I know, from sad experience gained in crossing +the Channel a few years ago, how extremely suddenly +this dire malady can attack even those who are least +suspecting its onslaughts; and I am in possession +of a remedy which proved very beneficial to me on +that occasion, which I shall be only too pleased to +send you for the use not only of Ethelred, but of +any other of the men on your boat who may chance +to succumb to this distressing complaint. In +sending you the prescription, I shall have the satisfaction +of feeling that I am doing my bit for our brave +sailors and helping to mitigate at least one of the +horrors of this great war.</i> +</p> + +<p class="closing"> + "<i>With kind regards,<br> + "Yours sincerely,</i><br> + "AMY TWITTENHAM-TWITTENHAM."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"Hm! You can answer that one for me, Dimsdale," +says the admiral. "Perhaps you had better +say that I tuck him up in bed every night with my +own hands and sing him to sleep; something of +that sort! By the way, how is the young monkey +getting on? Have you seen anything of him +lately?" +</p> + +<p> +"The last time I saw him," the secretary answers, +"was about eleven o'clock three or four nights back. +He was with several other snotties tobogganing +down the foremost gangway inside the chaplain's +suit-case and landing in the ditch. I enquired +what might be the meaning and reason of this +occupation, and young Twittenham informed me that +they were Gadarene swine. Apparently the idea +was to try and remember the padre's last Sunday's +sermon by putting it into actual practice; so +Twittenham explained it, at least. He also added +that another little drink wouldn't do him any harm. +In fact, he appeared on the whole to be doing very +nicely." +</p> + +<p> +The admiral chuckles merrily, remembering his +own midshipman's days. "Better drop a hint to +the padre to choose some less violent subject for +his next discourse," he suggests, "something at +any rate less wetting!" +</p> + +<p> +"I shouldn't like to discourage him; his sermons +might get <i>too</i> dry altogether," says Dimsdale, +laughing. +</p> + +<p> +"Then," he continues bringing out another paper +from his sheaf, "there's this one: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +I—A return is to be made immediately of all +H.M. ships or vessels fitted with soap-dishes +pattern number four (noted on list as Dishes, Soap, +number four pattern) and pierced with eighteen +holes, circular, of one-eight of an inch in diameter. +</p> + +<p> +This return to be made in triplicate, stating, +</p> + +<p class="para2"> +(a) How many of such articles are on charge. +</p> + +<p class="para2"> +(b) How many are in actual use on board. +</p> + +<p class="para2"> +(c) Whether it is found in practice that the +residuum of soap or soap and water, occasioned +by taking the piece or cake of soap from the water +in which it has been used and placing it in the +soap-dish, is able to escape with sufficient +freedom into the receptacle provided for the same. +</p> + +<p> +II—If it is found that this escape or discharge +does not take place with reasonable speed and +effectiveness, thereby causing a sediment of +saponaceous matter with aqueous base and +occasioning wastage of soap, the soap-dishes are to +be returned at once to H.M. Dockyard where the +holes will be enlarged from a diameter of one-eight +of an inch to a diameter of three-sixteenths +of an inch. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"And yet," groans the admiral, "there is a war +on! Well the rest can wait. Nothing of any +importance, is there? I suppose not, if that's a +sample. We're due to start this court of enquiry +in half an hour. But what's this yarn you were +telling me about the man Sheridan?" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap29"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXIX +</h3> + +<p> +"Did you ever hear of the Shamrock League, sir?". +</p> + +<p> +"No, I can't say that I did. What is it? It +sounds like the name of an Irish benefit society." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, it is rather different to that. As a matter +of fact, it is just as harmless, as far as its outward +profession goes, being merely an association for the +promotion of the Irish language and literature. +But, beneath the surface, it is really a hotbed of +dangerous treason and some of it members are +fanatics of the worst type; but the majority of the +people who belong to it are only allowed to know +the literary side of the thing at first, and are not +told anything about its political aspect until they +have been well sounded and proved trustworthy. +That is what makes it such a dangerous affair—if +one tries to probe it, one gets no further than the +discovery of just a harmless society of dilettanti." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, but what about it? Do you mean to say +that this man Sheridan is a member of this society? +I don't see that we can bring that up against him +in any way?" +</p> + +<p> +"He is not only a member, but one of the secret +Inner Circle of the Shamrock League, and even +there he holds very high office. That badge that I +told you about; the badge he tried to cover with +his foot when I saw him in his cabin, is one that only +a very few people indeed in the League are possessed +of." +</p> + +<p> +"How do, you know?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, sir, I <i>do</i> know—it would take me too long +now to tell you the ins and outs of the way I came to +learn the fact. Of course, as you say, it may have +no bearing whatever upon this sad business, but—well, +one naturally distrusts a man who is known +to belong to the inner circle of a league of rebels!" +</p> + +<p> +"Quite right, quite right! But I still don't see +exactly what we can do about it. By the way, +have you got him here?" +</p> + +<p> +"He will be present as a witness at the court, sir. +In view of my—well, my suspicions, I considered +that all three of them ought to be there, so I made +arrangements for the two girls to come also." +</p> + +<p> +"You acted quite rightly, Dimsdale. Indeed, I +don't see that you could have very well done +otherwise, though it certainly seems rather a shame to +put those two poor things up to be fired at with +questions, after all they have been through." +</p> + +<p> +"It does, indeed, sir," remarks Dimsdale, with +a keen recollection of his last meeting with Netta +the previous evening. He held her in his arms +then, and called her his dear—and presently he will +have to subject her to a formal examination; it is +distinctly unpleasant, and he feels it would be a +great relief to kick himself. +</p> + +<p> +"I hope you haven't found a mare's nest," +broods the admiral rather gloomily; "What sort of +questions do you propose to put to them?" +</p> + +<p> +"I intend simply to begin with asking them for a +clear account of what happened while they were on +board the <i>Marathon</i>. Their story of what took place +beforehand seems to be genuine enough, so far as +I can make out—except for one small detail. Oh, +how perfectly hateful it is to have to try deliberately +to be suspicious! But there is just one thing which +does not exactly tally with their story as they have +already told it!" +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean? Explain yourself." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I see from this Confidential Weekly Shipping +Report," taking another paper from his bundle +as he speaks, "that the s.s. <i>Botopi</i>, the ship in +which the Sheridan party were alleged to have taken +passage, really did sail from Galveston, Texas, on +the exact date they mentioned. She was due the +day before yesterday—and she has not arrived. +She sent out the S.O.S. call that same morning; +and the patrol vessels sent out in search could find +no trace of her." +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove, Dimsdale, you have been collecting +information pretty thoroughly! But the result +seems to be that the facts of the case tally precisely +with the Sheridans' account." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, so they do. That is what I said. But, +on the other hand, it would not be outside the bounds +of possibility to acquire all these details from +German, or rather pro-German sources." +</p> + +<p> +"Y-yes; I suppose it could be done; though it +seems very unlikely. I'm not surprised at your +describing yourself as a suspicious fellow, Dimsdale." +</p> + +<p> +The secretary feels the sting of the implied rebuke, +the more so as he knows it to be a deserved one. +But he has steeled himself to an unpleasant task and +will not be deterred from pursuing it to the very end. +</p> + +<p> +"I have to be suspicious in a case like this, +sir," he quietly answers; "and that is why I took +the steps I did next." +</p> + +<p> +"What did you do?" +</p> + +<p> +"I cabled to the <i>Botopi's</i> agents at Galveston, +and asked if the Sheridans' names were on the +passenger-list." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes? By Jove, Dimsdale, you're a smart +fellow! I should never have thought of doing that! +Well?" +</p> + +<p> +The secretary takes yet another paper from the +bundle in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +"Here is the reply cable," he says, handing it +to the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +It reads: +</p> + +<p> +"<i>No Sheridan in passenger-list.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +"Hm! That looks bad, I must admit," remarks +the admiral, pursing up his lips. "But," he adds after +a moment's reflection taking a brighter view of the +case, "of course there may be some very simple +explanation of that! You're right, though, +it does make the case somewhat more serious. Is +that the one exception you referred to in the +truthfulness of the Sheridans' story?" +</p> + +<p> +"That was it, sir. It may be nothing, as you +say; and yet——" +</p> + +<p> +There is a knock at the door. The admiral's +coxswain opens it and announces: +</p> + +<p> +"Three ladies to see you, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"<i>Three?</i>" exclaims the admiral, ruefully guessing +who the third one is. "Don't be afraid, +Dimsdale, you shan't be left alone with them! +Ask them to come inside! Why have they come +at this hour, I wonder? I didn't expect them for +another half an hour or more." +</p> + +<p> +He has no time for further reflections—and +Dimsdale, poor man, has no means of escape. +Through the open doorway sails in a very angry +Mrs. Shaw, with the two girls in close company. +</p> + +<p> +She wastes no time in empty courtesies and +greetings, but begins at once to unburden herself +of the wrath that is swelling her motherly bosom. +</p> + +<p> +The admiral himself is the first object of her +attack. She faces him with anger glittering in her +eye as she begins her remonstrance. +</p> + +<p> +"I understand, Admiral Darlington, that you +have sent for these poor girls on a matter of extreme +importance. I cannot imagine what it may be, but +I must say that I think it is very inconsiderate of +you to drag them out, across the water, at this hour +of the day—<i>most</i> inconsiderate, seeing how ill they +both are and what they have been through, poor +things! Of course, I could not dream of allowing +them to come alone—they are scarcely fit to walk. +Even Miss Norah, who seemed to be recovering +splendidly, has had a strange relapse since yesterday +afternoon, and what the effect of this thoughtless +business of dragging them from their beds in the +early morning will be is more than I should like to +say! I hope you will feel satisfied at your work, +if it brings them to their graves, as I daresay it +will—Mr. Dimsdale! Are there no chairs in this room? +<i>Really!</i>—Yes, it is <i>you</i> who are chiefly to blame in +this matter. It is all <i>your</i> doing! You are supposed +to be the admiral's man of business, aren't you? +Very well, then, I think you ought to be thoroughly +ashamed of yourself persecuting two poor helpless, +girls in this heartless manner! Yes, I am angry. +And now, perhaps, Mr. Dimsdale, you will be good +enough to say what it is you want with them. +<i>Which</i> of them is it you wish to interview? Or is +it <i>both</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"I—I—I——" the unhappy secretary, in a state +of complete nervous prostration, is quite unable to +make a fitting reply, and takes refuge in busily +bringing chairs for the three ladies; in fact he +brings not three chairs but six, and is going to get +more, till stopped by Mrs. Shaw's "Good gracious! +Is the man trying to barricade himself? Do sit +down and be quiet, and allow us to do the same." +</p> + +<p> +"My dear Mrs. Shaw," says the admiral in soothing +tones, seizing the first opportunity of getting a +word in edgeways, "I assure you that Mr. Dimsdale is +not to blame in any way. It is I who am entirely +responsible, and I must apologise humbly to these +young ladies, and to yourself, for all the trouble +and inconvenience to which you have been put. +But the matter is really a serious one, or else I should +never have thought of asking you all to be here." +</p> + +<p> +A silvery voice breaks in with a most astonishing +effect; in fact, if a lamb were to turn upon the +shepherd defending it, and speak a good word for +the wolf, the effect could hardly be more surprising! +It is Netta who speaks, the weak, gentle Netta! +And she says to the good lady at her side: +</p> + +<p> +"I think you are very unkind to speak to +Mr. Dimsdale in that way, Mrs. Shaw! He was most +considerate and good yesterday, sitting with us and +talking to us while you—while you went off with +the admiral!" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>While I went</i>—And I thought you were a timid +little thing afraid to say Bo to a—yes, I suppose I +<i>am</i> a goose to get so angry and flurried. But the +poor girls really <i>are</i> weak and ill, you know, admiral!" +</p> + +<p> +"That's right, Mrs. Shaw," he replies, greatly +relieved to find the sudden storm has subsided. +"When <i>you</i> cease to be cheery and good-humoured +I shall know that things are going very wrong +indeed! Now, if you will be good enough to wait +in another room for just a very little while some +refreshment shall be brought to you." +</p> + +<p> +"Refreshment!" The storm threatens to work +back again. "Thank you, we don't require any +refreshing so soon after breakfast, as I am told you +naval officers often do!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, then, just rest yourselves," hastily comes +the amended suggestion. "I am sure you need it. +I promise you that you shall not be detained very +long." +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale jumps up eagerly to open the door for +the ladies to depart into the room indicated; he is +glad to find something to do, and glad also that the +very alarming interview has come to an end. Mrs. Shaw +again gathers her convoy and sails majestically +away with them. +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale closes the door gently after them, and +falls into a chair heaving a deep sigh of relief and +wiping the perspiration from his brow. +</p> + +<p> +The admiral surveys him with a twinkle of malicious +amusement. +</p> + +<p> +"By Jove, Dimsdale," he laughs, "you were let +in for it properly that time! You must have had +the fright of your life, didn't you?" +</p> + +<p> +But Dimsdale is not to be cowed by a mere man, +even an admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"I thought that little girl was simply splendid, +the way she stuck up for me," he replies sturdily. +"A nice, gentle creature, that!" +</p> + +<p> +"What!" cries the astonished admiral, "why, +that's the first time in all these years I've known +you that I've ever heard you say a good word for +a woman!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, she seems to me to be different, somehow, +from other girls." +</p> + +<p> +"They all do!" chuckles the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"I thought so yesterday, too, when you—<i>when +you went off with Mrs. Shaw</i>. She talked so sensibly +then, it seemed to me. If ever I really had to marry, +it would be a girl of that sort that I should choose +for a wife." +</p> + +<p> +"Well," says the admiral, very ungallantly, "I +thought she seemed rather a weak sort of creature; +no mind of her own, so to speak." +</p> + +<p> +"That's the only sort I should like, sir," quickly +explains the secretary, "I should be too much +afraid of any other kind." +</p> + +<p> +"But—if there's any truth in this yarn of yours, +the girl may turn out to be an anarchist, or a Sinn +Feiner, or a pro-German, or something of that sort; +possibly the whole lot at once." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, well," says the secretary, turning the matter +over with deliberation, "I don't know that I should +mind <i>that</i> very much; every girl must have some +sort of a hobby, I suppose." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap30"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXX +</h3> + +<p> +The court of enquiry is assembled in the outer +office in the admiral's house. It is a large +room, formerly the dining-hall when the +house was in the hands of its private owners. The +picturesque details of such a room in a Highland +home are still to be traced to a certain extent in +the ancient oak panelling that covers the walls, +and the many antlered heads and other trophies +of the chase hanging upon them. +</p> + +<p> +For the rest, the beauty and dignified grandeur +of the old hall has given place to a very business-like +and official appearance; a long table runs down +the centre of the room, covered with books, papers +and correspondence. Smaller tables have also been +dumped down in any odd corners, and these also are +covered with a litter of official documents. And to +complete the hideous newness of the changed aspect +of the place, the rich, dark panelling is obscured +to a large extent by rows of shelves made of glaring +varnished deal and divided off into pigeon-holes +numbered in black painted figures. +</p> + +<p> +But the picturesque must yield to utility in war +time; and the room certainly makes an ideal place +for such an enquiry as is now being held in it. +</p> + +<p> +Admiral Darlington is president of the court, +and he is assisted by several other officers belonging +to the base and the ships attached, captains, +commanders, and specialists in various branches. +</p> + +<p> +Every endeavour is naturally made to sift the +cause of the disaster to the <i>Marathon</i>. +</p> + +<p> +The officers and men saved from her are of course +the chief witnesses, and many of them are examined +in the most careful manner to find out any facts that +may help to throw light upon the occurrence. +</p> + +<p> +A seaman who was one of the look-out men on the +foc'sle is now under examination, the particular +point at this stage being to try and discover whether +the disaster may have been due to a floating mine. +The possibility of a moored mine has already been +ruled out by the experts, who have stated their +opinion that the exact spot where the ship was lost +was much too deep for any mine-field to exist. +</p> + +<p> +The seaman gives his answer in a clear and thoughtful +way; it is evident that he is a man whose opinion +is not lightly formed. +</p> + +<p> +He says he is quite sure in his own mind that there +was no floating mine. +</p> + +<p> +"What makes you so certain about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because, sir, it was my duty to look out for +them, on the starboard side, that is; the night was +very clear—it was bright moonlight—and the sea +was like glass. A floating mine would show up on +such a night just as if it were noonday, and I +couldn't help but see one if there was one to be seen." +</p> + +<p> +This is very definite, even if not conclusive. But +the port look-out man, who is also among the saved, +says the same thing. And the statement is +corroborated by several other men who were on the +foc'sle at the time. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the interrogations are directed on the +possibility of an enemy submarine being responsible; +but this also is a suggestion that does not meet +with general favour, for a similar reason as in the +former case; the wake of a torpedo approaching +the ship could hardly have failed to be seen. +</p> + +<p> +"But there <i>was</i> a submarine operating more or +less in that locality a short time previously; the +steamer <i>Botopi</i> was sunk by one early the same +morning." +</p> + +<p> +An officer gets up and replies to this, consulting +some notes he has in his hand: +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, that is so. But the course of this particular +submarine was traced—she was seen twice for a few +moments later in the day; and her course was one +that took her right away from the <i>Marathon</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"There might have been another submarine?" +</p> + +<p> +Yes, it is agreed, of course, there might have been; +but then there is that matter of no wake of a torpedo +being seen. +</p> + +<p> +It is all very baffling and inconclusive. One thing +at least is certain, namely the place where the +explosion occurred. It was for'ard of the engine +room, and close to the fore-magazine if not actually +in it. And the explosion was so violent that +it is practically a certainty that it neither originated +there, or else, if it came from outside, must have set +up a secondary explosion there almost immediately. +The president of the Court rises in his place and +looks gravely at one of the <i>Marathon's</i> surviving +officers. +</p> + +<p> +"I wish to put to you a very serious question," +says the admiral; "one which I trust you will answer +with due deliberation, however curious or even foolish +you may think it to be. You had on board, that +evening, three people you rescued from an open +boat, a gentleman and two ladies. Do you consider +it at all possible that one, or all, of these three, could +have been in any way connected with the disaster +that happened to the ship?" +</p> + +<p> +The officer reflects for a moment before replying. +"I do not quite see how they could have had +anything to do with it," he presently says. "They +were merely shipwrecked passengers, rescued by +the <i>Marathon</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"That is not quite what I meant," the president +says. "Let me put my question again in this way: +Supposing these three people had had the wish +to do some harm to the ship do you think that +there was an opportunity for them to do so during +the time that they remained on board?" +</p> + +<p> +The witness again considers the question carefully, +and having done so answers: +</p> + +<p> +"I cannot give a definite answer to that question. +On the whole, I should say it was quite impossible +for them to do anything of the sort, as they were +to the best of my belief in the after part of the ship +the whole time; but I saw little of them myself, +and therefore am unable to answer for their +movements with complete certainty." +</p> + +<p> +While this witness is giving his evidence, a signalman +quietly enters the room and going up to the +secretary presents him with a long signal. +</p> + +<p> +"Marked Urgent-Priority, sir," he informs him. +</p> + +<p> +But this is not the place nor the time for bringing +signals of this sort, as the signalman ought to know. +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean by coming in here?" asks +Dimsdale in an undertone; "and can't you see for +yourself that the thing's in cipher? What's the +good of bringing it to me? Take it to Mr. Onslow +at once." +</p> + +<p> +"Very good, sir," replies the unabashed signalman; +he is quite accustomed to having his missives +received with snappy remarks, and takes very little +notice of them. So he retreats from the room +and once more offers the signal to Mr. Onslow in +accordance with the secretary's orders—and again +meets with a cold welcome. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Onslow is an assistant-paymaster of the Royal +Naval Reserve, and before the war was in a bank. +Now he is acting in the capacity of secretary's clerk, +and at present is seated in the drawing-room +of the admiral's house, having been turned out of +his office by the Court of Enquiry now occupying +the room. At his side, on the floor, is a large steel +chest, whose open lid displays within a number of +thickly bound books of all sizes. +</p> + +<p> +Looking at the signal now placed in his hand, +Onslow observes the paper to be covered with long +rows of figures in groups of five; and he groans +aloud. +</p> + +<p> +"My hat!" he complains bitterly, "if only I'd +known what the life of a ruddy A.P. was like, I +would have joined up as a domestic, or a bandsman, +or anything. I thought I was going to have a life +on the ocean wave and a home on the rolling deep, +and instead of that here I am stuck in a beastly +back drawing-room doing arithmetical puzzles." +</p> + +<p> +So saying, he reaches down to the steel chest +and drags out one of the fattest books. Then he +proceeds laboriously to decipher the long signal. +</p> + +<p> +He has not got very far on with it before he suddenly +begins to show signs of interest. He pulls +himself up in his chair and turns over the leaves of +his book much more rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +"Hm! Better get a move on with this," he +remarks to himself; "it appears to me that it +might be useful to those people inside. There's +some use in this job, after all!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap31"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXXI +</h3> + +<p> +The court of enquiry drags wearily and without +any satisfaction or definite result. +</p> + +<p> +To tell the truth, none of the officers constituting +the court ever really expected much result from +it. When a ship has gone down in such a manner, +blown to pieces almost in a moment and sinking +without leaving any trace, it is exceedingly difficult +to assign a cause to the disaster in the absence +of any material evidence; and it seems likely +that this must be counted as one more of the +many mysteries whose solution lies hidden beneath +the waves until such time as the sea gives up her +dead. +</p> + +<p> +General opinion appears to be on the whole in +favour of the theory of an internal explosion; but +the theory is not strongly held, and is supported +only by negative evidence. And against it the fact +is elucidated that the magazines and shell-rooms +were all inspected less than two hours before the +time of the disaster. +</p> + +<p> +The suggestion to call in the members of the +shipwrecked party meets with outward approval, but +inwardly it is regarded by most of those present as +rather a bore and a waste of time. What purpose +can be served by questioning these people? What +can they possibly know about it? The idea that +they can have had a hand in the affair is, of course, +ridiculous. Much better cut it out and let the +members of the court get away to lunch! +</p> + +<p> +But no one dares to utter these thoughts openly. +There is only a smothered protest of deep sighs +when the secretary states his opinion that these +witnesses should be brought in and examined +separately, and not all three together. More time +going to be wasted. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Netta Sheridan is first called; and there is a +perceptible stir amongst the officers of the court, +and a lively recrudescence of interest as the pretty +girl enters the room. With two exceptions, none +of those present have seen her before, and they +certainly did not expect to see anyone of this +delicately beautiful type. And none of them have +had any leave for some considerable period, so it is +long since they had the opportunity of setting eyes +upon a pretty girl. Yes, the suggestion of bringing +in the shipwrecked party was, after all, quite a good +one! +</p> + +<p> +And, to the delight of most of the members, the +girl is accompanied by one whom they all know +very well indeed; Mrs. Shaw can be depended on +to enliven even a dull affair like a court of +enquiry! +</p> + +<p> +On her first entrance, however, she gives no sign +of any intention to brighten up the proceedings by +taking the slightest part in them either by verbal +protest or otherwise. On the contrary, she seats +herself in the chair provided for her without uttering +a single word, and folding her hands resignedly +in her lap gazes at the ceiling in an air of complete +distraction. But there is a martial glitter in her +upturned eyes which speaks plainer than any mere +words. It says, "I wash my hands of the whole +affair! If you men must behave like a parcel of +fools, well then you must, that's all! I suppose you +think yourselves very wise and important, don't +you? All right, go on! And if you are quite +determined to make a martyr of this poor child, it's +your own responsibility, and I can't prevent you!" +</p> + +<p> +At the request of the president of the court, Netta +tells her story over again from the very beginning, +omitting none of the details which have been so +carefully drilled into her. It is not a pleasant task for +the girl. The whole action has become thoroughly +repugnant to her mind, and as for her own particular +part in it, at no time a congenial part, this is now +no more to her than a matter for sincere repentance. +</p> + +<p> +Yet she still continues <i>splendide mendax</i>—which +means not so much a magnificent liar as a liar in +a good cause. +</p> + +<p> +For is it not a good cause to shield her cousin +Norah? And there is no other way to do so, no +other way so far as Netta can perceive, except this +one of sticking religiously to her plausible tissue of +false statements. +</p> + +<p> +And all the time she is speaking she is wondering +to herself, "Did Dick Baynes manage to still the +tongue of Mr. Stapleton, as he promised he would?" She +looks around the court, and is much comforted +to find that Stapleton is not here. Baynes must +have succeeded, then. +</p> + +<p> +So far, so good. But with this consoling reflection +comes also the remembrance of the price she will +have to pay for this help. Dick is not the man +to let her off the full payment—nor would she ask +him. No, the compact must be observed on her side +as well as on his. But the thought of it makes her +shudder involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +The action does not escape the notice of her +interrogators, who attribute it to her weak condition +and pity her accordingly. Obviously, this witness +must be spared as much as possible. +</p> + +<p> +"A few questions more, and you shall not be +troubled any further. While you were on board +the <i>Marathon</i>, were you left alone for any part of +the time?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but not for very long. For a few minutes +at most." +</p> + +<p> +"Where were you then? In what part of the +ship, I mean?" +</p> + +<p> +"I was in a cabin. I think it was in the cabin +belonging to the surgeon." +</p> + +<p> +"And what were you doing there?" +</p> + +<p> +"I was carried there in a faint, when I came to +myself I had no very distinct recollection of what had +happened, but found myself lying on the bed and +the doctor attending to me." +</p> + +<p> +"Did you leave the cabin then?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I think I must have fainted again, or else +have fallen into a kind of sleep. I only remember +that they had to lift me from the bed when the +time came to leave, and to carry me on board the +destroyer." +</p> + +<p> +"So that for the little while you were left alone +you were really unable to move or to leave the +cabin unaided?" +</p> + +<p> +"Quite unable." +</p> + +<p> +Another member of the court breaks in here with +a pertinent enquiry: +</p> + +<p> +"Is there any means of confirming these statements? +Is the surgeon of the <i>Marathon</i> here to +give evidence?" +</p> + +<p> +"He is dead, sir," states the president in a tone of +quiet rebuke. "The questioner should have known this, +if he had read the list of the saved more carefully." +</p> + +<p> +"God bless the man," comes like a shrill bark +from Mrs. Shaw, who suddenly lowers her eyes +from the ceiling and fixes them in a baleful stare +upon the offending questioner—"what more +evidence does he want to prove that the poor girl was +ill? Perhaps he thinks she is shamming now! If +he will be good enough to condescend to look at +her he might see for himself that she is ill enough in +all conscience—and will be worse still, if this silly +nonsense goes on much longer." +</p> + +<p> +"My dear, Mrs. Shaw!"—the effort to calm her +is, however, not needed; she has shut her mouth +again, like a steel trap, and resumed her effort to +discover in the ceiling something of greater interest +than the affairs of these ridiculous busybodies. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you, my dear young lady, that will do. +We have no more questions to put to you. +</p> + +<p> +"The court desires to thank you for the clear and +helpful manner in which you have given your +evidence, and sincerely regrets that you should have +been put to such inconvenience in your present +weak state of health." +</p> + +<p> +A violent sniff is the only comment which Mrs. Shaw +deigns to make on these courteous remarks. +</p> + +<p> +"Now call in the other Miss Sheridan, if you +please." +</p> + +<p> +Norah enters, and takes a seat on the other side +of her protectress. At the same moment, entering +quietly by another door, comes in assistant +paymaster Onslow, bringing a paper which he at once +takes to the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +"I brought this to you, sir," he announces, "as +I thought it might have some bearing on the case. +I have only just finished deciphering it." +</p> + +<p> +Having delivered this message, Onslow departs +again, to do some more of his mathematical puzzles +which have been accumulating. +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale reads the message through, and nods +sagely as its import dawns upon him. He rises +from his place when he has finished the perusal, +and going over to the admiral interrupts him +just when about to call upon Norah for her +evidence. +</p> + +<p> +"I think you ought to see this, sir," he tells him. +"It may possibly prove to be just what we are +looking for." +</p> + +<p> +The admiral in his turn takes the paper and, carefully +adjusting his glasses, reads it through, forming +the words silently with his lips as is his habit when +dealing with any document of importance. +</p> + +<p> +"Upon my word," he says to himself when he +comes to the end of it, "I shouldn't be surprised if +we have here the explanation of the whole +thing." +</p> + +<p> +Then, aloud he announces: +</p> + +<p> +"I have here a signal which has only this minute +come through. It appears to me to be of sufficient +importance to justify my asking the court to listen +to it. Of course, it may turn out to have nothing +whatever to do with the case, but on that point +the members of the court will form their own +opinion." +</p> + +<p> +After this tantalising preface he proceeds to read +aloud: +</p> + +<p> +"Urgent. Priority. From the Admiralty. To +all ships and vessels. Message begins. Cordite +Ammunition Mark 30.A., 007 over 16, type B.C. one, +has been found to be defective, and is considered +liable to spontaneous explosion. All ships +having this type of ammunition are to disembark +it immediately for destruction and are to fill up from +the nearest ammunition depôt. Message ends." +</p> + +<p> +There is a mild flutter of excitement amongst +all present in the momentary silence which follows the +reading of this signal. +</p> + +<p> +"Did the <i>Marathon</i> happen to have any of this +particular lot of ammunition, on board?" asks a +member of the court. +</p> + +<p> +"That is a question that can easily be decided," +the President replies. And, while one is despatched +to produce the necessary records which are to provide +the answer, he goes on to say: +</p> + +<p> +"I think the court will agree with me that if it +should prove to be the case that the <i>Marathon's</i> +ammunition comprised some of this mark referred +to, there will be little need for us to pursue our +investigations any further. For myself, I may +state that my suspicions pointed this way, though +in the absence of any evidence I did not think it +right to bring forward mere suspicions. This +however, puts a different complexion on the matter +altogether. The court will doubtless remember +the case of the French ship, <i>Jean Bart</i>, whose +destruction was caused, according to the report of the +experts who investigated the case, by an internal +explosion resulting from defective ammunition. +Also the case of the <i>Fox</i>, in our own Navy some years +ago, where a spontaneous explosion in the after +magazine caused an accident which happily was not +accompanied by any casualties or the loss of the +ship. I do not say, of course, that we can be certain +of a similar cause for this present disaster, even if it +should prove, that the <i>Marathon</i> carried defective +ammunition. But seeing that no other cause can +reasonably be assigned, this would afford the only +explanation with any sort of evidence in its support." +</p> + +<p> +The records bearing upon the matter are brought +in and placed before him on the table. +</p> + +<p> +Once more the admiral adjusts his glasses and +runs his finger carefully down the printed columns. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, the <i>Marathon</i> had twenty rounds per gun +of this mark 30.A. stuff." he announces; and the +news makes a great impression upon the court. +Evidently there is little use in prolonging the +investigation any further. This discovery may not indeed +be the true explanation, but it is at least an +exceedingly probable one, and no other is at all likely +to come to hand. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, as a matter of form, the remaining witnesses +must still be heard. And, recovering from what +has proved a somewhat sensational winding up of +the enquiry, the court suddenly remembers that +Miss Norah Sheridan has been summoned to give +evidence. +</p> + +<p> +The president rises to address her. But before +he can speak, a still more sensational development +happens. +</p> + +<p> +The door opens suddenly, and two officers burst +hurriedly into the room—two officers who are +neither members of the court nor witnesses called +to appear before it in evidence. This is most +irregular and astonishing; no wonder that everyone +present turns in his place, and rivets his eyes +upon these two outrageous intruders. +</p> + +<p> +No, they have not made an error in the room—they +do not withdraw on seeing where they have +come, nor make any apology for their intrusion. +On the contrary, they advance boldly to the president's +table; one of them, indeed, is almost running +in his evident haste. +</p> + +<p> +He is a tall young officer in the uniform of a +lieutenant-commander. And as he removes his +cap it is noticed that his head is tied in bandages. +</p> + +<p> +The silence that falls upon the court is broken by +a woman's shriek. +</p> + +<p> +Netta averts her eyes in horror from the sight of +the unexpected intruder, and burying her face in +Mrs. Shaw's bosom, cries out: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, send him away! Don't let him speak!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap32"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXXII +</h3> + +<p> +"Stapleton!" cries the admiral in astonishment, +"what is the meaning of this, may I +ask? Or rather," turning towards the fleet-surgeon, +who has hung back a little after entering, +"perhaps I should address my question to you; why +have you brought this officer here?" +</p> + +<p> +"I have an important statement to make," begins +Stapleton; but the admiral, ignoring him for the +present, listens rather to the fleet-surgeon's +explanation: +</p> + +<p> +"It is entirely against my advice that he has +come, sir; but the captain urged me to give way on +the grounds that this officer's health was not so +important as the interests of the Service. So I +consented at last, unwillingly, and only on the +condition that I myself should accompany the +patient." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, well," says the admiral, finding that this +explanation does not throw very much light on the +affair, "but why has your captain sent the two of +you here?" +</p> + +<p> +"This officer insists that he has some very important +information to lay before the court, sir," answers +the fleet-surgeon; "but before you listen to it, I +consider it my duty to tell you that I do not consider +that he is at present in such a condition of health +as to render his statements entirely reliable." +</p> + +<p> +"Hm!" says the admiral, somewhat nonplussed +by all this—"and what may be this important +information that you have to give us, Stapleton?" +</p> + +<p> +The tall young officer looks around the room +before speaking, and his eyes light upon Norah, who +meets his glance without flinching. The effect of +this upon himself, however, is unnerving to the last +degree; he pales, and turns away his eyes +immediately and almost seems as though he would fall +but for his steadying himself with his hand on the +table behind him. +</p> + +<p> +"Take your time," says the admiral kindly, "I +can see that you are not really well enough to come +here." +</p> + +<p> +It is a wonder that Stapleton looks distressed, +when he is about to denounce the girl he loves—or +has loved! +</p> + +<p> +Which is it—loves? or, has loved? As he looks +once more towards the beautiful dauntless girl +opposite him, he puts this question to himself—and +cannot answer it! +</p> + +<p> +But before everything he is fully determined to +do his duty. +</p> + +<p> +Still supporting himself with one hand upon the +table he stretches out the other at full length and +points towards Norah. For a moment or two there +is silence; his voice refuses to frame the words that +must be spoken. All present in the room look +wonderingly at this gaunt and silent figure in the +attitude of an accuser. +</p> + +<p> +Then he finds speech, and in a hollow and +unnatural voice declares, +</p> + +<p> +"I denounce that woman, and her friends, as the +cause of the loss of the <i>Marathon</i>!" +</p> + +<p> +To say that there is consternation in the court +is putting it mildly. Such a sensation as this is +more than the wildest dreamer could have anticipated. +</p> + +<p> +But the consternation is not altogether of a serious +nature. Some of the members, indeed, show by their +astonished faces that they are greatly impressed +by the dramatic denunciation; but the majority +of them appear to be rather amused than otherwise—in +fact, one of the junior members gives vent to +a distinct giggle, which he vainly endeavours to +hide away under a very unconvincing cough. +</p> + +<p> +As for the fleet-surgeon, he is the first to speak, +and what he says is spoken rather to himself than to +the assembled company. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, he's mad! Quite mad! I knew it—I +ought never to have allowed them to override my +opinion," he says. +</p> + +<p> +The admiral frowns slightly, and his genial face +clouds over. This is a most unfortunate occurrence +in every respect; distressing to the young ladies, +and bad for Stapleton too. The fleet-surgeon ought +never to have brought him here. +</p> + +<p> +But perhaps, after a shocking statement like this, +it would be better to allow the patient to commit +himself a little further in order to prove clearly that +his mind is for the present unhinged and he is +not responsible for what he is saying. +</p> + +<p> +So the admiral prompts him. +</p> + +<p> +"Have you any proof, Mr. Stapleton, of this +remarkable statement?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes. She herself made a confession to me." The +accusing hand is again lifted towards Norah. +</p> + +<p> +Quite out of his mind, poor fellow! But he +must still be humoured. +</p> + +<p> +"What sort of a confession? Tell us." +</p> + +<p> +"It was to this effect, that the whole story of the +shipwreck was an invention, a deliberate piece of +deception and part of a prearranged plan. She, +and her cousin here, and the man—Mr. Sheridan—were +all of them engaged in a plot to blow up one of +His Majesty's ships." +</p> + +<p> +"What absurd nonsense!" breaks in a voice +overcharged with shrill indignation. "I never heard +such rubbish in all my life! That man's not in his +right mind—anyone can see that! He ought to be +in bed!" +</p> + +<p> +"Mrs. Shaw—please!" The admiral once more +finds it his duty to try and quiet this very +disturbing lady. +</p> + +<p> +But the whole of the court is really in sympathy +with her. It is preposterous to outrage decency +with these wild accusations. +</p> + +<p> +Only one member amongst the whole court appears +to take a different view of the matter. Dimsdale +bends forward attentively in his place at the table +and looks with searching eyes first upon Stapleton +and then upon the girl. But no one takes any +notice of him. +</p> + +<p> +"Hadn't you better take him away?" someone +says in an undertone to the fleet-surgeon. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton's ears catch the half-whispered remark. +He perceives clearly that he is an atmosphere of +unbelief. Unless he can convince his audience, he +feels that in another moment he will be dismissed, +his action attributed pityingly to the wanderings +of a brain-sick man, and his chances of getting a +serious hearing gone for ever. He knows that Norah +will not keep back the truth, if put to the test. This +much faith in her is left with him, the ashes of his +dead love—<i>is</i> the love quite dead? +</p> + +<p> +"Ask her!" he cries. Oh, the agony of being +forced to make her utter her own condemnation! +"Ask her—she will not deny it!" +</p> + +<p> +Norah's eyes again lifted towards him; and there +is pride in them. Yes, pride and gratitude that +he should have this opinion of her! +</p> + +<p> +The admiral perceives that Stapleton is unlikely +to be quieted until this demand is complied with. +Well, the sooner this very painful incident is brought +to an end the better! So he looks apologetically +towards Norah, with the words, +</p> + +<p> +"You have heard what he has said, my dear +young lady. I am sorry to distress you needlessly, +but perhaps you will be good enough to +reply to him. That will set matters right, once and +for all." +</p> + +<p> +No answer comes from Norah's lips. She seems +to be bracing herself for an effort. +</p> + +<p> +It is Stapleton himself who gives her strength to +speak; ignoring the admiral and taking upon himself +the part of questioner, he demands, +</p> + +<p> +"Answer the question! Did you or did you +not make a confession to me?" +</p> + +<p> +And in strong clear tones comes back the answer, +"I did." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap33"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXXIII +</h3> + +<p> +This time, the sensation amongst the assembled +officers of the court is one of genuine +consternation. The affair has taken a very +serious turn indeed. The mystery of the <i>Marathon's</i> +loss is not yet solved, but it promises to have a +solution now, and a far more terrible one than could +have been deemed possible. +</p> + +<p> +A quick readjustment of ideas and opinions is +necessitated by this extraordinary disclosure. The +wild-eyed officer with the bandaged head is not out +of his mind, after all. The astonishing announcement +he has made is not the outcome of a disordered +brain but a sober statement of fact. And the two +beautiful girls sitting one on each side of Mrs. Shaw +are not the unfortunate victims of a brutal outrage +upon the high seas, but the agents of a diabolical +and successful plot! +</p> + +<p> +All this is extremely disturbing to the mental +faculties, which have suddenly to take in and assort +these unexpected facts. +</p> + +<p> +It is noticeable that Mrs. Shaw alone does not +seem in the least impressed or disturbed. <i>Her</i> +opinions or ideas need no re-adjusting, whatever those +of other people may require. She betrays no sign +of any emotion except that of slight boredom, and +does not move an inch except to place her sheltering +arms around both girls and draw them a little closer +to her. +</p> + +<p> +Not yet is there complete belief in the truth of +Norah's words; or perhaps it would be more +correct to say that the import of them is not yet +completely realised; they are too astounding to +be credited on the instant. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you really mean," the admiral addressed +her, "that you have made to Mr. Stapleton a +confession that you and the others of your party were +concerned in the loss of the <i>Marathon</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I do mean it," the girl answers proudly, +"and I am glad!" +</p> + +<p> +"What!" exclaims the admiral, shocked at such +bravado, as it appears to him. "<i>Glad</i> that you +were engaged in such a wicked plot?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, glad that I made confession to Mr. Stapleton. +And glad that it has all come to light now—though +for some reasons I am very sorry. And I will tell +you all you wish to know—I will indeed. But I +would rather that you should ask him." +</p> + +<p> +The admiral falls back in his chair and gasps +with more than astonishment. The magnitude of +this surprising revelation is simply overwhelming. +He is quite unable to find words to express what +he feels. He can only continue to act as if this +nightmare were real daytime truth, and so he puts +to Stapleton the query, +</p> + +<p> +"Would you mind telling us, Mr. Stapleton, just +what it was that led to this confession? I cannot +believe it yet!" +</p> + +<p> +"I am sorry to say it is only too true, sir I myself +could hardly credit it at first, till events forced it +upon my belief. The discovery, or rather the +confession, was partly due to my chancing to remember +some words let fall by Miss Netta Sheridan when on +board the <i>Marathon</i>—words to which I paid no +attention when they were first repeated to me, +as they had evidently been spoken under very great +nervous strain." +</p> + +<p> +"What words? What sort of words?" the +admiral questions. "Perhaps Miss Netta would +repeat them herself? I should prefer to hear them +at first-hand." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh—oh—oh!" Netta wails; she is incapable +of saying more than this, and again buries her head +in the bosom of Mrs. Shaw, after the manner of +the action popularly ascribed to the ostrich when +trouble threatens. +</p> + +<p> +"Poor girl," cries the secretary, in quite an +unusually stern voice. "She's—she's ill, sir. She +is not in a fit state to be pressed to speak!" +</p> + +<p> +"I will speak for her," calmly says her cousin. +"It is perfectly true that we were all three of us +in a plot to blow up the ship—but it was I alone who +had to do the actual deed. I had the bomb." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, Norah, Norah," moans the other girl, "must +you do this?" +</p> + +<p> +"Was it a statement of this sort you meant when +you referred to words let fall by Miss Netta on board +the <i>Marathon</i>?" asks the admiral of Stapleton. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir, that was it exactly. It appears that she +suddenly repented of her part in the affair, and tried +to tell the surgeon and another officer about it in +order to get them to take the necessary action and +save the ship." +</p> + +<p> +"Who was that other officer? Was he rescued, +or——?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir, he was lost with the ship. Neither he +nor the surgeon paid any attention to what they +considered the girl's ravings, and in fact did not tell +me anything about it till much later, and then as it +were by way of a joke." +</p> + +<p> +"A <i>joke</i>! But you were first lieutenant of the +ship; did you treat the matter as a joke yourself?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir. Though I thought as they did, that the +words were those of a girl who was not responsible +for what she was saying. But nevertheless, I +caused a search to be made throughout the ship, +both on the upper deck and the main deck, I knew +that none of the party could have gone further below +than that." +</p> + +<p> +"You acted quite rightly. And you found nothing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing, sir. And that, I suppose, is what +caused me to forget all about the matter until +later." +</p> + +<p> +"And a pity you ever remembered it!" cries +Mrs. Shaw, no longer able to contain her indignation. +"No, Admiral Darlington, it's no use your telling +me to hold my tongue; it's high time that someone +possessed of a little common-sense should speak a +word. Can't you see for yourself that the surgeon +on board the <i>Marathon</i> was quite right? <i>He</i> didn't +believe a word of all this poor frightened girl's +imaginary story—<i>he</i> put it down to the right cause, +their sufferings; and he ought to know, being a +doctor, a good deal better than this fool of a nephew +of mine who has obviously only begun to believe +in the story since he has had this knock on the head +which has made him crazy for the time being! +To put it plainly, they are all three of them a little +unhinged. As for the girls, on the top of all they +have been through I suppose they must have +somehow or other got to hear about the loss of the +<i>Marathon</i>—you can't keep these things secret, +however much you may try—and, as a result, they +have just <i>dreamt</i> this ridiculous story! I'm +surprised at your listening to it!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, Mrs. Shaw, upon my word, I'm more than +half inclined to agree with you," mutters the admiral. +And the whole of the court, braced by the cold +douche of Mrs. Shaw's plain common-sense, begins +to think that perhaps it has been a little too ready +to give credence to the sensation offered it. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton himself is to a certain extent impressed +by this view of the situation. He forgets, for the +moment, the meeting of Dick Baynes and Norah +in his presence, and the disclosure of her having +been in Glasgow the previous week. Nor can he be +blamed for forgetting, after such a shaking-up as +he has had in falling over the cliff. He almost +begins himself to believe that they have all of them +been the victims of hallucination; and there is the +opinion of the fleet-surgeon to back up this belief. +</p> + +<p> +"May I ask a question, sir?" It is Norah who +is unexpectedly addressing the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"Certainly you may, my dear Miss Sheridan." The +admiral is actuated by very kindly feelings +towards the girl whom he regards with more than +a little pity—"of course you may. What is it you +wish to ask?" +</p> + +<p> +"I would like to ask Mr. Stapleton if he thinks +that I was in my right mind at the time I made +my confession to him." +</p> + +<p> +It is a terribly difficult position, that in which +Stapleton finds himself now. He came here to +accuse and denounce this girl it is true; but his +accusation has been coldly received and largely +discredited—in so far that he himself is half +converted to the view that the whole charge is a +phantasy of the imagination. And, now, the thought +uppermost in his mind is how he may save Norah +from the consequences of her own action; for he +has made one great discovery since he came into +the room—that his love for her is not dead, but +stronger than ever. +</p> + +<p> +"What have you to say to this, Stapleton?" says +the admiral, noting the silence of the young officer. +</p> + +<p> +"I would rather not answer the question, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"But I am afraid I must insist upon your doing so." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," Norah adds to the admiral's quiet +command, "answer me, please." +</p> + +<p> +"Why do you torture me?" cries the unhappy +lover, goaded beyond endurance, "can't you see +that you are making me——" +</p> + +<p> +"Answer me!" +</p> + +<p> +"Come, Stapleton," urges the admiral, "we are +waiting." +</p> + +<p> +Thus constrained, Stapleton at last makes answer. +</p> + +<p> +"She seemed to me to be entirely in possession +of her senses." +</p> + +<p> +"And did you believe what I told you?" continues +Norah. She will not spare him. +</p> + +<p> +Again he takes refuge in silence. +</p> + +<p> +"Will you answer her, please?" somewhat +impatiently speaks the admiral. +</p> + +<p> +"I could not help believing her." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you. There is only one more question +I want to ask you," the girl continues. "Having +heard all that has been said here, what do you now +believe to have been the cause of the blowing up of +the <i>Marathon</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +Instead of replying to her, Stapleton faces the +president of the court, and in a clear, steady voice +makes a moving appeal for mercy. +</p> + +<p> +"Sir," he cries, "I submit that the questions now +put to me are such as I ought not to be called upon +to answer, for the reason that they all tend to +prejudice the case against these young ladies. I +came here to accuse them, true! It was my duty +to do so. But it is not my duty to help them to +condemn themselves. And there is another thing +which must be said—neither of these two girls +actually had a hand in depositing the bomb on +board. One of them dissociated herself from the +attempt at a very early stage, and the other—this +lady who has tried so hard to influence this +court against herself—not only repented of her share +in the plot but really did her utmost to prevent it +being carried out." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you mean by that last remark? +Explain yourself please," the admiral says. +</p> + +<p> +"She had the bomb concealed in her dress, and +according to arrangement, her part in the affair +was to place it somewhere in the ship before making +her escape with the others. She refused to do so. +And when the man of the party tried to seize the +bomb from her, she resisted him, in the effort to save +the ship from destruction." +</p> + +<p> +"Dear me!" ejaculates the president, "well, +well! This is really a most extraordinary state of +affairs altogether. What on earth could have +induced you," turning to Norah, "to take part +in such a terrible business, such a wicked scheme?" +</p> + +<p> +"I was brought up from childhood to hate the +English," Norah answers. "My father hated them, +and trained me up in his own ideas. At first I made +his opinions my own just because they were my +father's; but afterwards I came to hold them and +believe in them on my own account. You see, my +father was killed by the English. And that broke +my mother's heart—she died, too. Do you think +I had great cause to feel friendship for the nation +that brought them both to their death?" +</p> + +<p> +"Poor girl, poor girl!" exclaims the admiral, +almost forgetting her complicity in the plot in his +sympathy for her troubled life. "Then you say +it was just your inherited hatred of England that +prompted you to take part in this conspiracy, +you and your cousin here?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir, not Netta. She was cowed by her +brother, and persuaded by myself. You must not +blame her, I tell you; in her heart she was against +it from the very beginning—only, she was forced +into it. Netta is innocent—at any rate in intention; +as for myself, I do not want any excuses to be made +for me, and I neither ask nor desire any mercy to be +shown me." +</p> + +<p> +"You were fully determined, you say, to carry out +this wicked plan to the very end?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I really meant to do the deed. I hated all +the English." +</p> + +<p> +"And—you hate us still?" +</p> + +<p> +"I—no, not now; God forgive us, I cannot do so now." +</p> + +<p> +"But did you not, then, actually place this bomb +in the ship?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, sir, it was taken from me by my cousin, Patrick." +</p> + +<p> +"Then, did he find means to conceal it on board +the <i>Marathon</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"I do not know. But I suppose he must have +done so, since the ship blew up." +</p> + +<p> +This proves too much for good Mrs. Shaw. She +cannot keep silent any longer. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I have no patience with any of you!" she +exclaims, in superb disregard of officialdom. "Norah, +I should like to shake you! I should like to shake +all of you! Isn't it enough for you to know that +there was a lot of bad gunpowder on board the +ship? What other explanation do you want? +Nasty dangerous stuff at the best of times, and +goodness only knows how dangerous it must be when it +has turned sour and gone bad or whatever it is that +happens to it. You seem to have forgotten all about +that, and here you are listening to a crack-brained +fellow and a couple of hysterical girls with a +cock-and-bull story of a plot and a bomb! Really, +for a lot of grown-up men, I'm ashamed of you all!" +</p> + +<p> +There is something in what she says. Her words +are not without their effect upon her listeners. On +all sides there is evident by the expression of their +faces that they would much prefer to believe in the +more rational explanation supplied by the knowledge +of the defective ammunition, and that they are not +quite certain that they are not making fools of +themselves in giving a hearing to this strange story which +appears more and more as it goes on to be based on +nothing firmer than an over-excited imagination. +</p> + +<p> +"I think, sir," remarks an officer, voicing the +opinions of the rest, "that while no doubt this +that we have just been told should of course be +thoroughly sifted, we certainly ought not to lose +sight of the possibilities of the defective cordite; +and I cannot refrain from giving my opinion that +when we have concluded the examination it is in this +that we shall find, so far as we can ever hope to find, +the real cause of the <i>Marathon's</i> loss." +</p> + +<p> +A chorus of murmured approval follows the +speaker as he ends this direct little speech; and +the universal wish is evidently for suppressing +the melodramatic story-tellers; nobody really +believes in them—their story fails to convince. +And in all probability if they can be decently +dismissed now, the whole incident will presently be +allowed to sink into oblivion. +</p> + +<p> +But there is always, at a public gathering, +which the majority are anxious to see ended, +some annoying person who is possessed of an +equally keen desire to prolong the proceedings. +</p> + +<p> +It is so on this present occasion. Rising in his +place, an officer of the court suggests: +</p> + +<p> +"There is one thing which I consider we ought to +do at once, without waiting further, in regard to +this matter." +</p> + +<p> +All the others cast glances of profound disgust +upon this officious busybody. The luncheon hour +has long gone by, forgotten in the excitement of the +unexpected interlude; and now, if there is more +talking to be done that will not brook delay, heaven +only knows what hour it will be before anyone is +able to get a feed! +</p> + +<p> +"Well, and what is it?" The admiral, unconsciously +affected by the same corporeal needs as the +others, is just a little short-tempered. +</p> + +<p> +"I think, sir, that we ought to hear the statement +of the other witness of the—the three shipwrecked +passengers, the man of the party." +</p> + +<p> +They have forgotten Patrick Sheridan! Only +this annoying suggestion recalls his existence to the +minds of the assembled officers. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, perhaps you are right," says the admiral, +suppressing a sigh. He is very hungry! "I suppose +we ought to examine him as well as the others. +Perhaps he will be able to account for these—these +somewhat improbable theories we have been listening +to. Bring him in, and let's get it over!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap34"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXXIV +</h3> + +<p> +Patrick Sheridan had a disquieting fear +of this Court of Enquiry ever since he first +heard that it was about to be held, and that +he himself would be required to be present at it, and +give evidence. +</p> + +<p> +"Ye never can tell," his anxiety prompts him +to reflect, "what may slip from your tongue +without thinking, the way they bother you with their +cunning questions till ye're in the divil's own danger +of letting fall the truth whether ye will or no! 'Tis +the mean, underhand way to treat a man! What +chance does it give him to keep cool, and tell lies +with an honest face?" +</p> + +<p> +He resents the prospect of this unfair treatment +very bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +One hope alone buoys him up—that the girls will +not be present to contradict his story, and so spoil +his chances of deceiving the court. Alone, he +should not find this task a very difficult one; he +only has to repeat the story he has already told and +refrain as far as possible from overloading it with +details which may not bear investigation. And so +far as he knows, there is not likely to be any doubt +cast upon his narrative by the officers of the court. +</p> + +<p> +So far as he knows! His anxiety would be +considerably greater than it already is if he only knew +how far his story has been brought into suspicion +even before he has told it! +</p> + +<p> +The first blow to his sense of security is when he +enters the court-room and perceives Norah and +Netta seated opposite to him. A flush of fear and +anger wells up over his dark visage—anger, because +he thinks that this secretary-fellow has betrayed +him by failing to deliver his letter to Norah telling +her not to appear at the court, nor to allow Netta +to come. A dirty trick! If a man cannot trust +another to perform an important errand like this, +what is there left in the world of honour and loyalty, +and the obligations of duty between gentlemen, and +what faith can any longer be placed in human +nature? +</p> + +<p> +Yes, the girls are here, worse luck, so there can be +no doubt that his note was never delivered! +</p> + +<p> +One does not like to imagine how deeply wounded +would be Patrick's sense of outraged honour, if only +he knew that his letter had indeed been delivered, +but had first been opened and read clandestinely! +His hopes for the future of humanity would +probably have dwindled into utter despair! +</p> + +<p> +Up to the moment of his entering the room Patrick +has felt, on the whole, that matters have gone fairly +well, and he has every cause for self-congratulation: +with any luck, he and the girls should be able to +get away from this vicinity very soon, perhaps this +same afternoon, and hide themselves in some place +where they can pursue their plans for another +attempt of the same sort. +</p> + +<p> +But, next time, the plans will have to be laid very +much more carefully, he can see that! A first +experiment always reveals many little details that +have been overlooked in spite of the belief that every +care has been taken; another time, the experience +gained in this first endeavour will teach many a +useful lesson. +</p> + +<p> +Still, however faulty the first plan may have +been, there is this to be said—that the <i>Marathon</i> +has undoubtedly been blown up, and now lies +where Patrick would like to have the remainder of +the British Navy lie, at the bottom of the sea. The +news of it was not long in reaching his ears; scarcely +had he been an hour on board the Depôt ship when +he heard of it, and he had great difficulty at the time +in checking the grin of delight that involuntarily +expressed his real feelings; once he had obtained +the mastery over his features it was an easier matter +to frame the suitable words to signify his horror and +grief at the dreadful catastrophe. +</p> + +<p> +Patrick Sheridan does not present a very attractive +appearance as he glares around the room where +the court is assembled. His face is livid and his +eyes are bloodshot. The hours he has been spending +alone shut up in his almost hermetically-sealed +cabin have not tended to give him a healthy look; +and the continual whisky-drinking in which those +hours have been mostly spent has added the last +touch to the brutalising of a face already darkened +and distorted by the evil workings of his mind +added to the natural moroseness of his disposition. +</p> + +<p> +He throws a look of anger and contempt at Norah, +who meets his glance fearlessly; another glare of +still more bitter hatred he turns upon the secretary. +</p> + +<p> +A chair is brought for him, and he is politely +requested to be seated. The admiral greets him +with a courteous, if somewhat cool, good-morning. +</p> + +<p> +Such politeness is in itself quite enough to arouse +Sheridan's suspicions. He does not like the look +of things at all; this behaviour savours too much +of the unnatural kindness which gaolers show to a +man about to be executed, when there is no point +of denying a little to one who is shortly going to +lose all. +</p> + +<p> +This very uncomfortable sensation is not without +its effect upon Patrick's excited mind. He ignores +the steps taken for his personal comfort, waving +angrily aside the man who has politely brought a +chair for him, and shouting to the court at large: +</p> + +<p> +"I protest against this unwarrantable treatment! +I'd have ye to understand that I consider ye a set +of bullyin' tyrants, iv'ry wan o' ye! Haven't I +already given ye all the information within my +power about the shipwreck? An' for why have I +been kept shut up in a room by myself, and then +brought here like a prisoner in a dock? I protest +against it, I say!" +</p> + +<p> +This fellow doth protest too much, thinks Dimsdale; +but he discreetly keeps his thoughts to himself, +and attempts no interference with the routine +of the enquiry. +</p> + +<p> +"I am very sorry indeed if you have been put +to any annoyance or inconvenience," says the suave +voice of the admiral; "and I hope you will quite +understand that the only object in requesting you +to be present here this morning is that we may +obtain your kind assistance in our attempts to clear +up the mystery of the <i>Marathon</i>. We shall not +keep you very long, if you will be good enough to +answer a few questions which I wish to put to you." +</p> + +<p> +Patrick is to a certain extent soothed by this +friendly speech. He begins to realise, too, that he +has made a mistake in openly showing his suspicious +fears. So, endeavouring to rectify this +initial error, he replies: +</p> + +<p> +"I'll answer anything ye like to ask—though, +mind you, I still consider you are treating me very +unhandsomely." +</p> + +<p> +"I wish for nothing better than to be able to +make you an apology, presently, Mr. Sheridan. It +is only fair to tell you, to begin with, that a very +extraordinary charge has been made here in this +court against yourself and the two ladies of your +party—no less than a charge of conspiracy to +destroy one of His Majesty's ships of war. In other +words, to put the matter plainly, one of the <i>Marathon's</i> +officers has stated that you all contrived to get +taken on board for this exact purpose; and one of +the young ladies, at any rate, makes no attempt to +deny the story, but as a matter of fact confesses the +truth of it." +</p> + +<p> +Patrick has managed with the utmost difficulty +to keep his features under control during this +speech of the president; fortunately for him, his +general expression is so malevolent that a slight +additional shade of angry terror makes scarcely any +perceptible difference. +</p> + +<p> +"How can ye give heed to such crazy fancies, +sir?" he asks with assumed nonchalance—"sure, +the terrible experience they have been through +has turned their brains! Ye haven't brought me +here, I trust, to question me on such fool's talk as +this?" +</p> + +<p> +He speaks in an assured tone of half angry, half +amused, contempt; hoping by sheer audacity to +avoid this terribly dangerous pitfall which has +yawned before his feet. And succeeds better than +he has dared to hope, not knowing how well his +words attune with the sentiments of the court. +</p> + +<p> +"Exactly," says the president; "our sincere +hope—and I think I may say, our expectation—is, +that it may prove to be, as you say, an invention +of overheated imaginations; and in that case, we +shall be very ready to make allowance for the very +natural mental distress resulting from all these +shocking events." +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan nods in acquiescence, thinking it best +to say as little as possible and hoping devoutly that +the incident may be regarded as closed. +</p> + +<p> +And in fact the president goes on to talk of +other matters. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, the first question I wish to put to you +is—did you sail from Galveston, Texas, in the +S.S. <i>Botopi</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"I did." This is fairly safe ground, and Patrick +feels very little anxiety in replying to questions of +this nature; he has already told the same story in +other ears, and is well up in all its details; they +won't catch him out here! +</p> + +<p> +"And were these young ladies in your company?" +</p> + +<p> +"They were." +</p> + +<p> +"What relation are they to yourself?" +</p> + +<p> +"One of them is my sister—or to be more correct, +my half-sister; and the other is my cousin." +</p> + +<p> +"Had you been long in America before you +came across in the <i>Botopi</i>?" +</p> + +<p> +"We had been settled there for about three years." +</p> + +<p> +"Then there is no truth whatever in the statement +made to this court by an officer now present, +that you did not really come from America at all?" +</p> + +<p> +"No truth whatever. I cannot imagine how +such an idea can have entered the mind of anyone. +I have letters on me to prove that I was in Texas +up to the time of the <i>Botopi's</i> sailing, and can give +you as many references as you require, in America, +testifying to my living there for three years previously." +</p> + +<p> +All of which is perfectly true. Patrick has taken +these obvious precautions, and is well supplied with +witnesses and testimony of all kinds. +</p> + +<p> +"And you say that your steamer was torpedoed +and sunk in the early morning of the day before +yesterday by a German submarine?" +</p> + +<p> +"She was that." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you happen to have a passenger-list with you?" +</p> + +<p> +"No. I had one, as all the saloon passengers +did, but we were obliged to leave in such a divil +of a hurry that I left all my papers behind with the +rest of my gear. Everything is lost now, of course." +</p> + +<p> +The court accepts without question this most +natural explanation. Dimsdale is alone in noting +that it was a little inconsistent of the man to have +the forethought to bring along with him letters by +which he might be identified. +</p> + +<p> +"But," remarks the president, "I must inform +you that the <i>Botopi's</i> agents in Galveston have been +cabled, and have replied that your names were not +in the passenger-list." +</p> + +<p> +"That, sir, is easily explained," Sheridan replies. +"We did not decide to leave until the last minute, +when all the berths were taken. Fortunately +three of the intending passengers cancelled their +departure, and I was able to buy from them the +berths which were booked in their names." +</p> + +<p> +"H'm! And what were the names of these +people, Mr. Sheridan? Can you remember?" +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed, then, I can. They were a maiden lady, +a Miss Pearson, and two brothers by the name of +Newman." +</p> + +<p> +"I suppose there is no means of verifying this +statement, since you do not happen to possess a +passenger-list?" +</p> + +<p> +The secretary comes to the rescue here. "The +Company have sent another cable since the first +one, sir," he informs the admiral, "giving a +complete list of the <i>Botopi's</i> passengers." +</p> + +<p> +"Good! Have you got it here?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir." +</p> + +<p> +"And do you find any mention in it of these +names which Mr. Sheridan has quoted?" +</p> + +<p> +The secretary runs rapidly through the list, +consulting a cablegram which he has picked from the +pile of papers on the table before him. +</p> + +<p> +"Miss Pearson—yes, that name's here; +and—what did you say were the other names, +Mr. Sheridan?" +</p> + +<p> +"Newman. There were two of them, brothers, +and they were to have shared the same cabin, the +cabin which the girls afterwards had." +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. James Newman; Mr. Robert Newman," +reads the secretary from his list. "Yes, they are +both mentioned." +</p> + +<p> +"Really, Admiral, if you will permit me to say +one word," breaks in once more the protesting +voice of Mrs. Shaw. "It seems very ridiculous to +go on with these absurd and unnecessary enquiries. +Mr. Sheridan's explanation is obviously true, and +you can go into the matter of his proofs any time +you wish. And by that time, I hope, these young +people's nerves will have got a little stronger, and +they will have forgotten all their bad dreams." +</p> + +<p> +"I am more than half inclined to think you are +right, Mrs. Shaw." +</p> + +<p> +"Of course I am right! Am I ever anything else?" +</p> + +<p> +"In this present instance at any rate I must +admit I think you have been right all along. Of +course, if it had not been for that very important +evidence about the <i>Marathon's</i> defective ammunition, +we might have been obliged to admit our inability +to assign a reasonable cause for the disaster. As for +this other matter, I think we have all of us come to +the same conclusion. I shall of course have to ask +you, Mr. Sheridan, for those proofs of your statements +which you say you possess or can procure, and +I have little doubt that they will prove satisfactory. +For the present, we can consider this enquiry +closed." +</p> + +<p> +There is a sigh of relief throughout the room—and +a most heartfelt one from Patrick Sheridan. +And all of those present make their preparations +for leaving—when they are interrupted by the +sharply insistent voice of the secretary: +</p> + +<p> +"One moment, sir, if you please!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap35"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXXV +</h3> + +<p> +All eyes are directed towards the secretary, +and his attempt to prolong the enquiry is +greeted with no very good humour. In +fact, he has made himself suddenly very unpopular +with his "one moment, sir, if you please"—which +of course means a good many moments and a +corresponding postponement of lunch. +</p> + +<p> +Nor is this general feeling the only ground of +resentment against him. The poor man is once +more made to feel the lash of Mrs. Shaw's tongue. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, it is you again, Mr. Dimsdale?" she upbraids +him—"are you not tired yet of bullying +these poor creatures? It was your fault from the +start, I remember, that they were ever brought here. +A nice, manly action, is it not, to subject two poor +sick girls to such treatment." +</p> + +<p> +"I—I am very sorry, Mrs. Shaw, very sorry +indeed," stammers the poor man. And indeed he +speaks sincerely, since he has conceived something +more than a liking for one of these two girls, both +of whom he considers as victims rather than organisers +of the diabolical plot; for he is thoroughly +convinced—he is the only member amongst the +whole court who is convinced—of the reality of the +plot, and he not only knows it to be his duty to +expose it, but feels that this is his only chance of so +doing. +</p> + +<p> +So he says, "I am very sorry, Mrs. Shaw. But +I do not wish to question these ladies at all. It is +Mr. Sheridan to whom I would like to address a +few brief questions, with the permission of the +President." +</p> + +<p> +"Go on then, Dimsdale," grudgingly assents the +admiral; "but be as quick as you can." +</p> + +<p> +"I will, sir. In fact, if Mr. Sheridan can satisfy +me on the very few points I wish to put to him, I +shall not delay the court more than a very few +minutes." +</p> + +<p> +The man thus referred to looks darkly at the +secretary, and a shade of perplexity creeps over his +face. He was beginning to feel quite cheerful and +almost to look so, at the happy turn which events +were taking for him. But now the affair is +apparently going to be re-opened—and Sheridan does +not like it at all! +</p> + +<p> +What fresh questions are going to be put to him? +What details are there that he has not already +supplied? <i>What new trap is now being laid to +ensnare him?</i> +</p> + +<p> +Yes, that last doubt really accounts for the +sudden spasm of fear that clutches at his heart; +there is a trap, he knows it, and it is going to be one +which will take him all his wits to avoid. +</p> + +<p> +How he hates the smooth-faced secretary with the +piercing eyes! How he hates him, and—fears him! +</p> + +<p> +Really, this will not do—this cold dread is making +him feel quite unnerved; he must pull himself +together, or else he will never be able to reply +convincingly, and his hopeless condition will become +evident to the whole court—almost sufficient of itself +to condemn him in their eyes! +</p> + +<p> +In the midst of his bewilderment the secretary's +first question breaks in upon his ears through the +buzzing, humming noise like the sound of many +waters which has quite unaccountably been filling +them these last few moments. +</p> + +<p> +"Will you please tell me, Mr. Sheridan—what +colour was the <i>Botopi</i> painted?" +</p> + +<p> +The blow has fallen!—oh, fool that he was, not +to have thought of a thing like this before! How +<i>could</i> he have omitted to make certain of such a +simple detail? +</p> + +<p> +There is only one thing to do—to hazard a guess +and hope that it may chance to be a lucky one. +</p> + +<p> +Foolishly, he discounts his credibility by not +answering boldly at once. Instead, he hesitates, and +speaks only after a pause; this would be almost +enough to make him appear to be guessing, even if he +were really speaking from knowledge; but he is off +his balance altogether. +</p> + +<p> +"Black," he replies. +</p> + +<p> +"Are you quite certain?" +</p> + +<p> +The question is evidently intended to nail him +down to his statement; but it suggests to him an +opportunity for hedging a little. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he replies, feeling his way as he speaks; +"but it was an indistinct sort of black—it might +have appeared a kind of grey in some lights; or +even a very dark green." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you." +</p> + +<p> +Dimsdale gives no indication whether he is satisfied +with the reply or not. But at least it is something +to the good that he does not deny its correctness. +Perhaps it is correct, then! Sheridan begins to +feel a little hope. +</p> + +<p> +"And how many funnels had she?" +</p> + +<p> +This second question comes without any comment +on the former one. Sheridan feels himself on firmer +ground here. Of all the passenger ships he has +ever seen, and he has seen a good many in his time, +the vast majority have had two funnels. Cargo +tramps, of course, generally have one funnel only, +and some of the gigantic liners have three or four; +but the <i>Botopi</i> was neither cargo-tramp nor first-class +liner, and so he has much less hesitation than +before in making his reply: +</p> + +<p> +"Two." +</p> + +<p> +"Quite sure?" says the persuasive voice of the +secretary—"are you certain they didn't look as +if they might be three, or even four, in some +lights?" +</p> + +<p> +This man is mocking him! With his smooth +sarcastic tongue and his calm emotionless face he +is simply playing with him! +</p> + +<p> +"There were two, I'm after tellin' ye," suddenly +growls the baited man. +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you." Again the quiet and unquestioning +acceptance of his reply. This time, however, +Sheridan does not feel quite so happy about it; +the absence of comment on Dimsdale's part has now +become ominous rather than assuring. +</p> + +<p> +A tense silence settles upon the room; everyone +from the President of the court downwards looks +expectantly towards the two men fencing with +question and answer; it is somewhat brought home +quite clearly to everyone that these two are fighting +a duel to the death. +</p> + +<p> +Netta looks on with grave anxiety and seems to +have given away to utter despair, as if she knows +that the catastrophe hanging over them cannot +be warded off for long now. As for Norah, more than +once she opens her lips to speak, and half rises from +her chair; but Mrs. Shaw checks her by a motion of +the hand—as though she too feels that the ring should +be kept clear for the two antagonists. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton, who has sunk back apathetically in a +seat on finding his revelation of a conspiracy +dismissed with scant attention, now finds his interest +fully re-awakened, and leans forward breathlessly +so that not a word shall escape him. +</p> + +<p> +The atmosphere is electric. Even the fleet +surgeon who came with Stapleton and has been +trying for the last quarter of an hour to induce +his patient to return with him now desists from +his well-intentioned efforts and rivets his gaze on +the two antagonists as keenly as the rest. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the secretary gives no indication of having +any startling surprise in store, or of being in any +way dissatisfied with the replies he has so far +received. Each question, as soon as it is answered, +he drops entirely and goes on to another subject. +</p> + +<p> +For the third time he propounds one of his quite +commonplace queries: +</p> + +<p> +"During the voyage home, was the <i>Botopi</i> +stopped by any British man-of-war?" +</p> + +<p> +This is rather an awkward poser for Sheridan; +yet he must make some sort of reply. It occurs to +him that perhaps his interrogator is merely bluffing +and does not know the correct reply to his own +question. In that case Sheridan need not care +greatly what answer he gives. But suppose +Dimsdale does know? Well, then he must hazard a +Yes or No, and try to find some way of explaining +his mistake if he happens by ill-luck to hit upon the +wrong answer. +</p> + +<p> +It is pretty certain, the wretched man reflects, +that the ship was stopped. The cordon has been +drawn so closely that very few Transatlantic vessels +succeed in escaping the meshes of the net; and +every steamer that is sighted, Sheridan knows, +is stopped for examination. +</p> + +<p> +So, after all, there is not such a very great risk +about the reply. He makes up his mind to chance +it. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes," he says, "we were held up by a warship +and afterwards allowed to proceed." +</p> + +<p> +"How many days after you had left Galveston +did this happen?" +</p> + +<p> +What can the fellow be driving at? Well, no +matter, this question is easier to evade than the +previous one. +</p> + +<p> +"I think it was either on the third or the fourth +day out; but I am not quite certain about it; it +took place with so very little delay and fuss that +it made no very distinct impression upon my +memory." +</p> + +<p> +"Did this take place in the daytime or during +the night?" +</p> + +<p> +It will be much safer to say in the night; for +then Sheridan will be spared from describing things +that happened during his sleep. +</p> + +<p> +"It was in the night," he therefore makes answer. +</p> + +<p> +Once more the secretary drops the subject but +this time he does not turn to a fresh one nor renew +his questions. Instead he bends over his pile of +documents, searching till he finds what he wants. +Turning them rapidly over he at length picks out +a paper from the heap, and spreads it on the table +before him. +</p> + +<p> +Then, turning to the President of the court he +begins! +</p> + +<p> +"Sir, it was not to be expected that Mr. Sheridan +should be acquainted with the conditions under +which the tenth Cruiser Squadron does its work, +or else he might realise that now and then, very +rarely, it is true, a vessel does succeed in getting +through the patrol without being sighted. Now, +this report,"—holding one of his papers up to +view—"is one that was received by wireless on the +very morning when the <i>Botopi</i> was sunk; it reads +as follows: +</p> + +<p> +"'<i>S.S. Botopi, Galveston to Hull, sailed on the +eighth instant, should be brought in for examination +if met.</i>'—which proves clearly enough that the +vessel was <i>not</i> met by any of our patrols up to that +date. Yet Mr. Sheridan, who says he was a passenger +in the <i>Botopi</i>, tells us that she was met and held +up on the third or fourth day out, and that this +happened during the night; he is quite clear about +these facts." +</p> + +<p> +"An' so we <i>were</i> met an' stopped, as I'm tellin' +ye," shouts Sheridan, who sees that his only chance +is to brazen it out; "'tis all a big mistake +somewhere—that report ye have in your hand, sir, is +not correct at all!" +</p> + +<p> +"Possibly," says the Secretary drily. "It may +be, of course, that the patrol ship which Mr. Sheridan +declares to have met the <i>Botopi</i> had some accident +to her wireless and consequently was unable to +signal the report. But let that go——" +</p> + +<p> +"Indeed you may well say that! An' let <i>me</i> +go too. Can ye not take the word of a gentleman +but must throw doubts upon me statements? 'Tis +time we put an end to this foolishness. Come, +Netta, and Norah, too. We'll not be staying any +longer!" +</p> + +<p> +"Not so fast, Mr. Sheridan, please," quietly +insists the secretary—"They say, sir," again +addressing himself to the admiral, "that even the most +cunning criminals invariably overlook some +important details. In this present case it would have +been as well for the success of the plot to have +found out something about the general appearance +of the <i>Botopi</i>." +</p> + +<p> +"What d'ye mean," breaks in Sheridan, trying +to shout the other man down now that he sees +the trap closing; "I refuse to submit to this dirty +sneaking cross-questioning! 'Tis a plot to desthroy +me. Keep you silent now, ye low scoundrel!" +</p> + +<p> +The secretary pays not the slightest attention to +this outburst, but goes on in the same calm voice: +</p> + +<p> +"The report I have just been quoting from, calling +for the <i>Botopi</i> to be brought in for examination, +gives, as is the usual custom, a description of the +general appearance of the vessel. And I may add, +that I have this morning cabled to the agents in +order to make certain that this description is correct. +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Sheridan has informed us that the steamer had +two funnels also, that her hull was painted +black—though he qualifies this statement to the extent +of saying that she might possibly appear green or +grey. But the Company's own account of the vessel +states that she is a one-funnelled ship, and that +she is painted in accordance with the request of +Germany <i>in broad bands of red and white</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"Now, I think it must now become clear to this +court how utterably unreliable this man Sheridan's +statements are; in fact, they are nothing but a +tissue of lies from beginning to end. And it will +be presently seen that he was not shipwrecked—that +there was a very cunning and ingenious plot to +blow up the <i>Marathon</i>—and that this fellow is at the +bottom of it all!" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap36"></a></p> + +<h3> +CHAPTER XXXVI +</h3> + +<p> +Dimsdale brings his accusing words to a +close in a silence that is almost painful in +its intensity. All eyes are upon him. He +remains calm and unperturbed as ever, and there +is no flush of triumph in his face but rather on the +contrary a slight pallor, befitting one who has +accomplished a duty, to his own cost. +</p> + +<p> +A gurgling throaty sound diverts the gaze of all +from the secretary to the fallen victim of this duel. +</p> + +<p> +Sheridan is trying to speak, and is clutching at +his throat as if something is there that blocks the +passage of his words. His livid face has changed +to an angry blotchy purple, not pleasant to look +upon. +</p> + +<p> +The game is up and he knows it. Then the +furious torrent of his abuse finds utterance. +</p> + +<p> +"Curse, ye, ye murdherin' lawyer," he shouts at +Dimsdale, "may the divil take ye!—I'll keep it up +no longer—why should I? Sure, 'tis my glory +and pride to call myself England's enemy! I defy +ye! I'll fight ye fair, and I'll tell ye all!"—he +glares around the court with such fierce blazing +eyes that more than one man involuntarily lowers +his gaze before them—"No need for that sneaking +hound to drag the truth from me by inches—I'll +not demean myself, talking to such trash! 'Twill +be my proudest boast that I did what I could, an' +may there be many to follow after me! I did not +sail from America, then. 'Twas from a little spot +on the coast of Scotland that I put out, the very +same day the <i>Marathon</i> left harbour, knowing well +the way she would pass, an' prayin' in me heart I +might be the desthruction of her—as I would be of +ivery ship in the cursed English Navy if 'twas in my +power to be! I hoped that I might fool thim on +board of her and bring them to their death!" +</p> + +<p> +A gasp of horror at this devilish avowal escapes +the admiral's lips. But for this, not a sound nor a +word is raised in interruption as Sheridan goes on: +</p> + +<p> +"An' we did fool ye, fine! I could have laughed +aloud at the lot of ye, poor simpletons that ye were, +ready to listen to the first foolish tale that was +poured into your long ears! 'Tis the English all +over—and ye think yourselves the cleverest nation +on earth. Pah, I deshpise the lot of ye." +</p> + +<p> +"Then it was you that—Call in the guard, we +must have him under arrest," exclaims the President. +</p> + +<p> +"Under arrest is it? Dye think I hadn't made +provision for the chance of that same? Bad luck +to me that I failed to blow up the ship! Though +as things turned out——" +</p> + +<p> +"<i>He failed! Listen to him—do you hear what he +says? He failed to blow up the ship!</i>"—It is +Stapleton who cries aloud like an inspired prophet +to whom has been revealed a life-giving message; +and the glory of this enlightenment transfigures +his face with a wonderful radiance. +</p> + +<p> +He staggers across the room even as he speaks, +and stands at Norah's side. He would show her, +it seems, that his love is not dead, and would have +her to understand how utterly glad he is that his +hateful duty has been accomplished without bringing +the dreaded results upon her head. +</p> + +<p> +But she sees nothing of her lover's pleading looks +and gestures. She has hidden her face, and is +cowering down before the stinging fury of Patrick's +invective. Well she knew that her cousin would +not spare her. +</p> + +<p> +"As for you, you traitress," he snarles at her, +"black shame to you for preventing me! To hell +with you for a perjured girl that has brought disgrace +upon her country and dishonoured her mother's +grave! Ah, then, don't think ye'll escape for +your treachery—you and your fine lover for whose +sake ye've sold yourself. I say, to hell with ye—to +hell with ye all! <i>The Saints above be praised, +I've still got the bomb!</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Before anyone can realise what the man is doing, +much less make any attempt to prevent him, he +plunges his hand beneath his coat and draws +from its hiding place there something which he +holds closely to his eyes and fumbles with +hastily. +</p> + +<p> +What this object may be is not clearly discernible; +it is hidden by Sheridan's hands except for a +momentary gleam of white metal. +</p> + +<p> +But Norah knows and so does Netta. Both the +girls spring to their feet and raise their voices +simultaneously in a warning cry. +</p> + +<p> +Too late! Patrick has succeeded in securing +the moments necessary for adjusting the bomb for +instantaneous explosion, and with a mocking laugh +of triumph he flings it to the ground in the midst +of the court. +</p> + +<p> +There is a shriek from Netta—the first start of a +movement on the part of everyone to make a rush +for the doors; as if there could be time to save +themselves—and the crashing noise of the metal +bomb falling on the wooden floor. +</p> + +<p> +And no other sound follows. The bomb has failed +to explode! +</p> + +<p> +Already most of those present are crowding at +the doorways. Sheridan stands with folded arms, +smiling contemptuously; he knows that it is only +an affair of an instant, and that before anyone can +force a way from the room the whole building will +be wrecked to atoms. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Shaw, brave woman, has not joined in the +general stampede. She is seizing the two girls and +endeavouring to pull them down to the ground as +the safest place where little safety of any sort is to +be found. +</p> + +<p> +But Norah tears herself away. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, what is the rash girl about to do? +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton sees, and leaps after her to prevent her; +but he is not in time, she is too quick for him. +</p> + +<p> +She dashes across the floor of the room to where +the bomb lies in the midst. It is but a second since +it has left Sheridan's hands. He too, starts forward +to stop her, but she evades him. +</p> + +<p> +She has picked up the bomb and is holding it +tightly in her hand. No time to alter the adjustment +now—there is only one thing to be done, and +she does it. +</p> + +<p> +She takes a few quick running strides towards +one of the windows, and hurling the bomb with +all her strength sends it crashing through the +glass. +</p> + +<p> +It scarcely touches the ground outside before it +explodes with a deafening roar. The whole building +rocks, and the windows of the room are blown +inwards, the clatter of broken glass and splintered +framework adding to the noise and confusion. +</p> + +<p> +Stapleton has reached Norah's side a moment after +the bomb leaves her hand, and is bending over her +to shelter her with his body as the building sways +with the concussion. +</p> + +<p> +A moment, and the danger is seen to be over. +The force of the explosion has spent itself in the open +air, and save for a few falling stones and loosened +plaster, broken windows and unhinged doors, the +house is unscathed, and so are all within it. +</p> + +<p> +Still holding Norah in his arms, Stapleton whispers +incoherent words of love and admiration for +her deed. He scarcely knows what he is saying; +but he knows that he will never let her go away +from him again. +</p> + +<p> +And, indeed, she pays but little heed to her +lover's words. Gently disengaging herself from his +arms she turns from him and moves towards the +admiral, who is one of the few who have not +attempted to escape from the room; both he and +Dimsdale have kept their places calmly through +it all. +</p> + +<p> +Norah is standing before the admiral and looking +up appealingly into his kindly face. She comes to +him as a suppliant; but as a suppliant who claims +rather than begs for mercy. +</p> + +<p> +"It was quite true," she says in a low voice, but +so clearly that everyone can hear what she is saying, +"there was a bomb—but you have seen what +has become of it! That bomb was never used for +the wicked purpose it was intended for; whatever +it was that sank the <i>Marathon</i>, it was no deed of +ours." +</p> + +<p> +"Bad cordite, right enough; no doubt about +that now!" interrupts Dimsdale, speaking quite +cheerfully as if it were something he is greatly +pleased about. +</p> + +<p> +"And I saved you, I saved the lives of all of you," +continues Norah's pleading voice. "That makes +some difference, doesn't it? Will that atone for +what I have done?" +</p> + +<p> +The admiral hardly knows how to answer her in +words, though his moistening eyes show what he +thinks of the brave girl who has risked her own life +to make amends for the past. +</p> + +<p> +It will not be a difficult matter to deal leniently +with these girls who have been misled and have +now striven their hardest to make amends. Indeed, +there is not much that can be said to their charge +even in intention. +</p> + +<p> +With Patrick Sheridan, however, the ease stands +very differently. Not only has he deliberately made +the attempt to destroy one of His Majesty's ships, +an attempt thwarted by those who were to have +been his accomplices, but now there is this other +murderous outrage of attempted wholesale slaughter. +But where is Sheridan? He is not to be seen. +Has he succeeded in escaping in the general confusion? +</p> + +<p> +What is that little group of officers over there +in the corner of the room as if with the purpose of +hiding something from view? +</p> + +<p> +From the group emerges the fleet surgeon, Stapleton's +fleet surgeon, and coming up to the admiral +whispers to him to get the ladies out of the room as +quickly as he can. +</p> + +<p> +No charge will ever be laid against Patrick +Sheridan. The justice of Fate has found him out, +fulfilling that ancient doom pronounced upon the +doers of evil; "<i>they have digged a pit for others and +are fallen into the midst of it themselves.</i>" +</p> + +<p> +Just a tiny fragment of the steel bomb has winged +its way in a flight so direct that surely the hand of +Destiny must have guided it, and it lies buried +in the brain of the man who devised both the infernal +instrument itself and its still more infernal +purpose. +</p> + +<p> +Norah divines the meaning of the fleet surgeon's +whisper; she has guessed what it is that lies +concealed by that hedge of men. +</p> + +<p> +"No need, sir, to hide it from me," she says, +undaunted even by this dread blow, "I know what +it is! Whatever else Patrick was, he was no coward; +he was willing to die with the rest of us for what he +thought right. Let me go to him. He was a brave man." +</p> + +<p> +"And you are brave, too," says the admiral, "it +is you who have saved all our lives!" +</p> + +<p> +"At the risk of your own, Norah, my beloved," +adds Stapleton. +</p> + +<p> +"What did that matter?" exclaims the girl, +locking her hand into that of her lover. "That was +a very little thing! What value is my life?" +</p> + +<p> +"It is everything in the world to me," Stapleton +answers her. +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +<i>Printed in Great Britain by Wyman & Sons Ltd., London and Reading</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77260 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + |