Hurricane Island

by H. B. Marriott Watson

  HURRICANE ISLAND

  by

  H. B. MARRIOTT WATSON

  Author of "Captain Fortune," Etc.

  "'May the Lord help you,' says he in his voice ofsuet."]

  A. L. Burt Company,Publishers, New York

  Copyright, 1904, byH. B. Marriott Watson

  Copyright in Great Britain

  Copyright, 1905, byDoubleday, Page & Company

  Published, February, 1905

  TO

  RICHARD BRERETON MARRIOTT WATSON

  MY KEEN YET APPRECIATIVE CRITIC,WHO PLEADEDON BEHALF OF THE VILLAINS,THIS TALE OF ADVENTURE BY SEAIS DEDICATED WITH LOVE BYITS AUTHOR AND HIS

  [Transcriber's Note: The dedication is incomplete.]

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I. "The Sea Queen" 3

  II. In the "Three Tuns" 15

  III. Mademoiselle Trebizond 30

  IV. An Amazing Proposition 45

  V. The Wounded Man 57

  VI. The Conference in the Cabin 73

  VII. The Rising 89

  VIII. The Capture of the Bridge 105

  IX. The Flag of Truce 123

  X. Legrand's Wink 135

  XI. The Lull 144

  XII. In the Saloon 157

  XIII. The Fog 169

  XIV. Barraclough Takes a Hand 179

  XV. The Fight in the Music-Room 193

  XVI. Pye 205

  XVII. The Third Attack 222

  XVIII. At Dead of Night 237

  XIX. The Tragedy 250

  XX. The Escape 267

  XXI. On the Island 278

  XXII. Holgate's Last Hand 295

  HURRICANE ISLAND

  CHAPTER I

  "THE SEA QUEEN"

  Pember Street, E., is never very cheerful in appearance, not even inmid-spring, when the dingy lilacs in the forecourts of those grimyhouses bourgeon and blossom. The shrubs assimilate soon the general airof depression common to the neighbourhood. The smoke catches and turnsthem; they wilt or wither; and the bunches of flowers are sicklied overwith the smuts and blacks of the roaring chimneys. The one open spacewithin reach is the river, and thither I frequently repaired during thethree years I practised in the East End. At least it was something tohave that wide flood before one, the channel of great winds and thehaunt of strange craft. The tide grew turbid under the Tower Bridge androlled desolately about the barren wilderness of the Isle of Dogs; butit was for all that a breach in the continuity of ugly streets andhouses, a wide road itself, on which tramped unknown and curious lives,passing to and fro between London and foreign parts.

  Unless a man be in deadly earnest or very young, I cannot conceive acareer more distressing to the imagination and crushing to the ambitionthan the practice of medicine in the East End. The bulk of my caseswere club cases which enabled me to be sure of a living, and the restwere for the most part sordid and unpleasant subjects, springing out ofthe vile life of the district. Alien sailors abounded and quarrelledfiercely. Often and often have I been awakened in the dead hours tofind drunken and foreign-speaking men at my door, with one or moreamong them suffering from a dangerous knife-wound. And the point of itthat came nearly home to me was that this career would not only lead tonothing, but was unprofitable in itself. I had taken the position inthe hope that I might make something of it, but I found that it was allI could do to maintain my place. I made no charge for advice in myconsultations, but took a little money on the medicine which I made up.Is any position to be conceived more degrading to a professional man?The one bright time in my week was of a Saturday, when I donned my bestcoat and gloves, took down my silkiest hat, and, discarding the fumesand flavours of the East, set out for Piccadilly. I still remained amember of a decent club, and here I lunched in my glory, talked withsome human creatures, exchanged views on the affairs of the world,smoked and lolled in comfortable chairs--in short, took my enjoymentlike a man-about-town, and then went back to earn my next week'sholiday.

  Punctually to a minute I must be in the surgery in Pember Street at sixo'clock, and the horrid round must begin to circle again. I willconfess that there was a time when I could have loved that career as asaunterer in West End streets. It appealed to me at five-and-twentyalmost as a romantic profession. Other young men whom I had known, atschool and college, had entered it, and some were, or appeared to be,signal stars in that galaxy of wealth and beauty. My means, however,denied me access, and at thirty I would have been content, after myexperience of hardships and poverty, to settle in some comfortablesuburb, not too distant from the sphere of radiance. As it was, I wasin chains in the slums of Wapping, and re-visited the glimpses ofPiccadilly once a week.

  When I rose on an evening in November to go down to the river almostfor the last time, it was not a Saturday, but a Thursday, and the WestEnd seemed still a long way off. I had finished my round of cases, andhad sat waiting in my dingy surgery for patients. But none had come,and in the enforced meditation that ensued, as I reviewed my past andmy prospects, my soul sickened in me. I wanted to breathe morefreely--I wanted more air and something more cheerful than the lowsurgery lamp and the dismal lights that wagged in the street. I put onmy hat and passed down to the river.

  It was quite dark, and the easterly drift had obscured and dirtied thesky, so that when I came out by a landing which I knew now familiarly,I could see only the lights across the water, and some tall spars andfunnels in the foreground. But the river at full tide champed audiblyagainst the wharves, and the various sounds of that restless portassailed my ears--the roar of the unseen traffic behind me, the flutingand screaming of whistles, the mingled shouts, oaths, and orders in thedistance, and the drone of that profound water under all.

  I had stood for some minutes, drinking in the better air, when therewere voices near, suddenly risen out of the flood, and I perceived twomen had landed. They paused by me for one to relight his pipe, and inthe flash of the match I gathered from the dresses that they werestevedores, newly come, no doubt, from unloading some vessel. But myattention was taken off them unexpectedly by a great flare that went upinto the sky apparently in mid-channel. It made a big bright flame,quite unusual in that resort of silent lights, and one of thestevedores commented on it.

  "That'll be her," he said; "she was coming up round the Dogs in ala-di-da fashion. Maybe she'll fly rockets in another minute."

  "Them steam-yachts are the jockeys to blue the money," responded hiscompanion. "Nothink's good enough for them."

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "Only a Geordie brig straight from winning the America Cup, sir," saidthe first man with a facetious smile. "What did they make her out,Bill?"

  Bill hesitated. "I think it was the _Sea Queen_," he said doubtfully,and added, in harmony with his companion's mood:

  "They don't want to make themselves known, not by a long chalk."

  With which, the flare having died down, they tramped away into thenight with a civil leave-taking.

  I followed them presently, moving along the road in the direction ofthe docks. When I reached the entrance I paused, and the gatekeeperaddressed me.

  "Going in, doctor? Got a call?"

  I recognised him in the dimness of his lamp as a man whom I hadattended for an accident, and I gave him good evening.

  "No," said I, "but
I want some air. I think I will, if you don't mind."

  "Welcome, sir," said he cheerily, and I found myself on the other sideof the gateway.

  I walked along the vacant stretch of ground, lit only by dullgas-lamps, and, passing the low office buildings and storing sheds,came out by the water-basins. Here was a scene of some bustle anddisorder, but it was farther on that the spectators were engaged in aknot, for the caisson was drifting round, and a handsome vessel wasfloating in, her funnel backed against the grey darkness and her sparsin a ghostly silhouette. The name I heard on several sides roused in mea faint curiosity. It was the stranger I had observed, the _Sea Queen_,the subject of the stevedores' pleasantries.

  "A pretty boat," said I to my neighbour. "What is she?"

  He shook his head. "_Sea Queen_ out of Hamburg," he said, "and apleasure yacht from the look of her. But what she does here beats me."

  The caisson closed, and the steam-yacht warped up slowly to the pier.There was little or no noise on her, only a voice raised occasionallyin an authoritative command, and the rattling of chains that paid outthrough the donkey-engine. Idly I moved to the stone quay when thegangway was let down, but only one man descended. The passengers, ifthere had been any, had long since reached town from Tilbury, savingthemselves that uninteresting trudge up the winding river-lane.

  I moved on to where a steamer was being loaded under the electriclights, and watched the same for some time with interest; then, takingout my watch, I examined it, and came to the conclusion that if I wasto see any patients that evening at all I must at once get back to myunpalatable rooms. I began to go along the pier, and passed into theshadow of the _Sea Queen_, now sunk in quiet, and drab and dark. As Iwent, a port-hole in the stern almost on the level of my eyes gleamedlike a moon, and of a sudden there was an outbreak of angry voices, onethreatening volubly and the other deeper and slower, but equallyhostile. It was not that the altercation was anything astonishing inhuman life, but I think it was the instantaneous flash of that lightand those voices in a dead ship that pulled me up. I stared into theport-hole, and as I did so the face of a man passed across it 'twixtthe light and me; it passed and vanished; and I walked on. As I turnedto go down to the gates I was aware of the approaching fog. I had seenit scores of times in that abominable low-lying part of the town, and Iknew the symptoms. There was a faint smell in the air, an odour thatbit the nostrils, carrying the reek of that changeless wilderness offactories and houses. The opaque grey sky lost its greyness and wasstruck to a lurid yellow. Banks of high fog rolled up the east andmoved menacingly, almost imperceptibly, upon the town. For a momentthere were dim shadows of the wharves and the riverside houses, with achurch tower dimmer still behind them, and then the billows of the fogdescended and swallowed up all.

  I moved now in a blackness, but bore to the right, in which direction Iknew were the dock sheds and safety. I seemed to have been feeling myway for a long time--quite ten minutes--and yet I did not come uponanything. I began to be seized with the fear of a blind man who ishelpless in vacancy. Had I left the basin in my rear, or had I somehowwandered back towards it, and would another step take me over into thewater? I shrank from the thought of that cold plunge, and, putting outmy stick on all sides, tapped and tapped, and went on foot by foot. Iwas still upon the stone, when I should have reached the sheds, or atleast have got upon the earth again, with the roadway running to thegates. Angry at my own folly for lingering so long about the ships, Icontinued cautiously forward, trying each step of the way. Presently Iheard a sound of footsteps before me, and then a voice raised in astave of song. There followed a loud oath and the splash of a heavybody in water.

  Plainly the basin was, then, in front of me, and some one had fallenin. The poor wretch was doomed to drown in that horrid and impenetrabledarkness. I shuddered at the thought of that fate, and moved fasterunder the whip of impulse. The next moment I brought sharply up againsta stone post by which ships were warped in and fastened. Below was thewater, and now I could hear the sound of splashing, and a voice raisedin a cry of terror. Round the post was coiled a heavy rope which Iloosened as rapidly as was possible and began to lower over the edge ofthe basin.

  "This way," I called; "make this way. Here is the pier," but thesplashing continued, and a smother of sound came to me, as if theswimmer were under water, and his voice stifled. Almost withoutthinking, I gripped the thick, tarry rope and let myself over thebasin, until I had reached the surface of the water.

  "This way," I called; "if you can get here, I can save you."

  The noise seemed to come from some little distance out, and now I wasin the water myself, with the cable in my hand, striking out feverishlyand awkwardly in the direction of the struggling man. I came upon himin a dozen strokes, and the first news I had of him was a kick in theshoulder that almost tore me from my rope. The next moment I had him bythe collar and without more ado was retracing my way, towing a violentmass of humanity behind me. It was only by dint of hard work and bypropping him in my arms that I at last landed him on the pier, and thenI succeeded in following myself, very sore and stiff and cold.

  The first words that sprang from the prostrate figure on the quay weresome incoherent oaths, which ultimately took form. "Curse Legrand,curse him!"

  "Come," said I; "if you are well enough to swear you are well enough totravel, and we are both of us in a case for treatment."

  "I can't see you," said a voice, in a grumbling way, "but you saved me.Pull along, and I'll do my best to follow. Where the dickens are we?"

  I groped and helped him to his feet. "Give me your arm," said I; "wecan't afford to go in again, either of us."

  "Were you in too?" he asked stupidly.

  "Well, what do _you_ think?" I replied with a little laugh, and beganto walk, this time, determinately at right angles from the basin.

  He said nothing more, but hung on my arm pretty limp, as we struggledthrough the darkness, and presently we both fell over a bale of goods.

  "So far so good," I said, picking him up; "we must be in theneighbourhood of the sheds. Now to find them, and creep along in theirprotection."

  We struck the buildings immediately after, and I had no difficulty inworking my way to the end. That took us to dry ground, or, at least, tothe sloppy ground at the bottom of the docks. By good fortune we nowhit upon the roadway, and it was to me a delight to hear the ring ofthe hard macadam under our squelching boots. I was now almost cheerful,for I was sure that I could not wander from the road, and, sure enough,we were advertised of our position and heralded all the way by themeagre lamps at intervals. Soon after we reached the gates, which wereopened by my friend.

  He peered into our faces. "It was a call, sure enough," said I,laughing. "And here's my patient."

  When we got into the road the fog had slightly lifted, and I had lessdifficulty in picking my way home than I had anticipated. Once in thesurgery, I turned up the lamp and poked the fire into a blaze, afterwhich I looked at my companion. It was with a sense of familiarity thatI recognised his face as that which I had seen flitting across theport-hole of the _Sea Queen_. He sat back in the chair in which I hadplaced him and stared weakly about the room. The steam went up fromboth of us.

  "Look here," said I, "if we stay so, we are dead or rheumatic men"; andI went into my bedroom, changed myself, and brought him some garmentsof my own. These he put on, talking now in the garrulous voice I hadheard on the yacht, but somewhat disconnectedly.

  "It's awfully good of you ... a Good Samaritan," and here a vacantlaugh. "I wonder if these things.... How did I go over? I thought I wasgoing straight. It must have been that infernal fog.... Where thedickens are we?"

  "You are in my house," said I, "but you might be at the bottom of thebasin."

  "Good heavens!" he said, with a laugh. "I feel mighty shivery. Don'tyou think a drop of something----"

  I looked at him closely. "I think it wouldn't be a bad idea in thecircumstances," I said.

  "Oh, I know I had too much to carry!" he said r
ecklessly. "It made mequarrel with that wretched Legrand, too--a fat-headed fool!"

  I rang for water, and mixed two hot jorums of whisky, one of which hesipped contentedly.

  "You see, we had a rousing time coming over," he observed, as if inapology. I looked my question, and he answered it. "Hamburg, in the_Sea Queen_. The old man skipped at Tilbury, and Barraclough's a realblazer."

  "Which accounts for the blaze I saw," I remarked drily.

  "Oh, you saw that. Yes, it was that that made Legrand mad. He'sparticular. But what's the odds? The boss has to pay."

  His eyes roamed about the shabby room--shabby from the wretchedpictures on the walls to the threadbare carpet underfoot, and, thoughhe was not a gentleman, I felt some feeling of irritation. Perhaps ifhe had been a gentleman I should not have been put out at this scrutinyof my poverty.

  "You saved me, and that's certain," he began again. "Say, are you adoctor?"

  I admitted it.

  "Well, can you recommend another glass of toddy?" he asked, smiling,and his smile was pleasant.

  "In the circumstances again--perhaps," I said.

  "Oh, I know I played the fool," he conceded. "But it isn't often I do.I must have gone off in the fog. How did you get at me?"

  I told him.

  "That was plucky," he said admiringly. "I don't know two folks I'd riskthe same for."

  "There wasn't much risk," I answered. "It was only a question of takinga cold bath out of season."

  "Well!" he said, and whistled. "There's white people everywhere, Iguess. Business good?"

  The question was abrupt, and I could not avoid it. "You have youranswer," I replied, with a gesture at the room, and taking out mycigar-case I offered him one.

  He accepted it, bit off the end, and spat it on the floor, as ifpreoccupied. His brow wrinkled, as if the mental exercise were unusualand difficult.

  "The _Sea Queen_ is a rum bird," he said presently, "but there's plentyof money behind. And she wants a doctor."

  "Well," said I, smiling at him.

  "We left a Scotch chap sick at Hamburg," he continued. "The boss is asecret beggar, with pots of money, they say. We chartered out of theClyde, and picked him up at Hamburg--him and others."

  "A pleasure yacht?" I inquired.

  "You may call it that. If it ain't that I don't know what it is, and Iought to know, seeing I am purser. We've all signed on for twelvemonths, anyway. Now, doctor, we want a doctor."

  He laughed, as if this had been a joke, and I stared at him. "Youmean," said I slowly, "that I might apply."

  "If it's worth your while," said he. "You know best."

  "Well, I don't know about that," I replied. "It depends on a good manythings."

  All the same I knew that I did know best. The whole of my discontent,latent and seething for years, surged up in me. Here was the wretchedpractice by which I earned a miserable pittance, bad food, and lowcompany. On the pleasure yacht I should at least walk among equals, andfeel myself a civilised being. I could dispose of my goodwill for asmall sum, and after twelve months--well, something might turn up. Atany rate, I should have a year's respite, a year's holiday.

  I looked across at the purser of the _Sea Queen_, with his good-looking,easy-natured face, his sleek black hair, and his rather flabby whiteface, and still I hesitated.

  "I can make it a dead bird," he said, wagging his head, "and you'llfind it pretty comfortable."

  "Where are you going? The Mediterranean?" I asked.

  "I haven't the least idea," he said with a frank yawn. "But if yourtickets are all right you can bet on the place."

  "I'm agreeable," I said, in a matter-of-fact voice.

  "Good man!" said he, with some of his former sparkle of interest. "Andnow we'll have another to toast it, and then I must be off."

  "Don't you think you'd better stay here the night?" I asked. "I can putyou up. And the fog's thicker."

  "Thanks, old man," he replied with easy familiarity, "I would like aroost, only I've got an engagement. I wired to some one, you know." Andhe winked at me wickedly.

  "Very well," said I. "If you have an appointment, I would suggest thatwe leave over the toast."

  "You're right," he said ingenuously. "But it was a nasty bath. Allserene. I'll fix that up. By the way," he paused on his road to thedoor, "I haven't your name."

  "Nor I yours," I answered. "Mine's Richard Phillimore."

  "Mine's Lane," he said. "Qualified?"

  "M.B. London," I replied.

  "Good for you. That'll make it easier. I suppose I can go in yourtogs."

  "You're welcome," I said, "though they don't fit you very well."

  "Oh, I'm a bit smaller than you, I know, but all cats are grey in thedark, and it's infernally dark to-night! Well, so long, and I'm muchobliged to you, I'm sure."

  He swung out of the door with his free gait, and I stopped him.

  "One word more. Who's your owner?"

  "The boss? Oh, Morland--Morland, a regular millionaire."

  With that he was gone.