Hurricane Island

by H. B. Marriott Watson

  CHAPTER XII

  IN THE SALOON

  I think it was from that hour that I began to get on badly withBarraclough. It was in his power as acting captain, no doubt, to remitcertain precautions, but the remission of those precautions was not tothe credit of his head. He had been beguiled by the Siren, and she,doubtless, by her vanity or her freakishness. When she had gone heturned on me.

  "What the devil do you want interfering, Phillimore?" he demanded. "I'min charge here."

  There never was a man so insensate. I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, itwas not my interference that was successful," I said curtly.

  He walked abruptly to the window and opened it wider I could not bemistaken as to the bulky form that blocked it.

  "Nice music, captain," said Holgate's wheezing voice.

  "I'll give you just three seconds to quit, or I'll put a hole throughyou, you infernal rascal," said Barraclough savagely, raising hisrevolver.

  "Oh, we're in no hurry," said the mutineer cheerfully, and moved away.

  I suppose that some gleam of reason prevented Barraclough from firing.He barred the windows afresh, and came back to me.

  "Why the mischief doesn't he attack?" he exclaimed peevishly.

  I did not know, but I was near guessing just then. In point of fact, Idid guess that afternoon. I paid my usual visit to the forecastle andthe hold. Legrand played the same farce with remarkable persistence,and I was no longer puzzled by him. He was biding his time, likeHolgate, and his reasons were obvious. Holgate's dawned on me justthen--but some of them only, as you shall see during the progress ofthis narrative.

  He maintained his friendliness, inquired civilly after our health, andhow the ladies bore the seclusion.

  "I wish I could make it easier for them, but I can't, doctor," he saidamiably.

  He was an abominable liar, but I had a certain admiration for hiseffrontery. I was glad I could meet him on his own ground, so Ianswered deliberately:

  "Of course, it would spoil your plans to get the job over."

  He eyed me smiling. "As how, my friend," he asked.

  "You would rather have us in charge of the treasure than yourself," Ireplied.

  He laughed. "Doctor, there's imagination in you, as I've always said.It's a pity I made that blunder about you. Not that it matters now.Well, you've nicked it. What's the odds? You are welcome to thetruth--now."

  There was a perceptible emphasis on his last word.

  "You're not afraid of the attack?" I said.

  He shook his head. "Not much. While we have a common object we're allright. I'm afraid of success. Doctor, you've a penetrating eye. Why,the treasure might break us up. If you had sent it down to me I believeI'd have sent it back. That would have been your best chance. I wonderyou didn't think of it. But you've got your flaws. If you'd sent thattreasure down I'd have had to take it; and you might have sat down andwaited on events. But it's too late now. I know where I am."

  "And where's that?" I asked bluntly.

  He smiled craftily. "We enter the Straits of Magellan this extraspecial night," he said. "Let's put it at that."

  "And what's to come?" I asked in the same voice.

  "Lord, one would suppose you in the counsels," he said equably. "And ina way you are. Well, you can hand over that treasure which you havebeen good enough to guard for me better than I could myself as soon asyou will. I've no objection now. Good-evening, doctor."

  He wheeled about and went off humming a tune. But I was staggered. Thatmeant, if he were not lying again, that we were near the end of ourtether, that the truce was up, and that....

  My mind shuddered in its train of thought. There was only one possibleend for us if Holgate was to secure himself; and he was capable of anyinfamy. As I looked at his broad back and bull neck I felt rage andhatred gather in me and surge together. But I was impotent then andthere. I went back to our quarters sick at heart.

  It was falling dark when I reached the state-rooms, and all was asusual. The same vacant face of quietude was presented to me in thecorridor. Leaving the two men, of whom one was Grant, on guard, I wentbelow to my cabin; and, as I did so, thought to look in upon Pye. Faintshafts of light streamed in by the open port, but I could see no one.

  "Pye!" I called, and received no answer.

  Well, it was of small consequence to us if Pye recovered or not, for hewas negligible as a unit of our defence. But I was glad that the littleman had sufficiently resumed what what might be called his manhood tobe up and about again. Maybe, I thought with some amusement, I shouldfind him airing himself in the corridor or disporting in themusic-room. Coming out of my cabin, I groped my way along the passagein the direction of the stairs. When I reached the foot of them it wasquite dark, and I stopped, arrested suddenly by a murmur of voices fromthe saloon beyond. I knew that some one must be on guard there, but Idid not quite understand the murmur. I hesitated, making some inquiriesin my mind. From the hour, I came to the conclusion that Barracloughwas on duty, and I turned and entered the saloon, the door of which wasajar.

  "Is that you, Barraclough?" I called.

  My voice penetrated the darkness, which was here alleviated by the dullgleam from the port-holes. I heard a rustling, and I was sure it was ofa woman's skirts.

  "What do you want?" asked Barraclough in a leaden voice.

  "Oh, nothing," said I as coldly; "I only thought I heard voices."

  "Now what the----" He pulled himself up sharply, for with all hisfaults (and heaven knows I had yet to find how many they were) he was agentleman.

  "It is the doctor," came in Mademoiselle's pretty accents. "Oh, it isso cold upstairs, doctor. You must make us some machinery to warm us."

  "We shall be colder yet, Mademoiselle," I replied indifferently; "weshall have the ices of Magellan refrigerating us to-morrow."

  "Magellan," said Barraclough. "What the mischief does that mean?"

  "Ask Mr. Holgate," I answered. "It's his affair, or he thinks it is. Hehas taken it on himself." I made my way to the electric-light knobs."As it seems to be getting dark," I said, not without irony, "I willtake the liberty of illuminating."

  "Oh, it's none so dark," growled Barraclough. "We ought to be used todarkness by this time. We're not all children at nurse," he sneeredpalpably.

  I turned the catch, but no light came. "It's gone wrong," I exclaimed.

  "Yes, I did try it a little time ago," said Mademoiselle sweetly, "whenSir John and I were in so deep argument."

  Of course it was a lie, but what did that matter. If I could have seenBarraclough's face at that moment I felt sure it would have advertiseda sense of shame, despite his passivity. But Mademoiselle.... Well, Icould see in the dusk the shadow of her face, and it was a handsomeshadow. Almost I could see her smile. They were seated in the recessesof the saloon. I moved towards them.

  "I suppose you understand the hang of this, Sir John," I said drily.

  "I'm not a patent detective," he answered with his arrogant sneer, butI paid no heed, for I felt sure of settling him then and there.

  "I suppose it has occurred to you to reflect on whose grace we havedepended for our electric supply," I said mildly.

  "I know that it comes from the engine-room, if that's what you mean,"he replied bluntly.

  "And now it's cut off," I said.

  There was a pause, and it was the lady who broke it.

  "What is it that you mean, doctor?"

  I addressed her. "The mutineers cut off the light preparatory to anattack."

  "You are the most wonderful sleuth-hound, Dr. Phillimore," saidBarraclough with a hard laugh; "your talents are quite thrown away."

  "I regret to say they are here," I answered sharply. "And where wouldhe be if he had paid some attention to the patent detective? I tell youagain, Sir John Barraclough, that we've got to expect an attackto-night, and that's why the light is gone."

  A man may endure hostility and defeat; he may suffer shame andinjustice; he may undergo pangs of jealousy and remorse. All thesethin
gs are dispiriting or humiliating, but I declare that I wouldwillingly experience them all if I might save myself from the supremedishonour of appearing in a ridiculous _role_. I had spoken stronglybecause I felt warmly, and there was a note of dictatorial assurance inmy voice which might have convinced, or at least silenced, Barraclough.But I had left the keys down, and to my shocking discomfiture as Ifinished my declamation the saloon was at a stroke flooded with light.

  The radiance discovered to me Mademoiselle's piquante face, her eyessmiling, her lips full and pouting, and close beside her Barraclough'sfair Saxon jowl. He grinned at me, but said nothing, for which perhapsI should have been grateful. But I was not.

  "But this is in our honour, then?" suggested Mademoiselle Yvonneprettily.

  I had no fancy for her, but I did not mind her little sarcasm.

  I bowed. "No doubt to celebrate my oratory," I said, recovering myself."But as we do not know how long Mr. Holgate will condescend to continuehis compliment we may as well make the most of it."

  "You're a cool hand, Phillimore," said Barraclough, now with the goodtemper of one who has triumphed.

  "But none so cool as Holgate," I returned him in the same spirit, "forhe has just warned me that his reasons for not attacking us are at anend." He regarded me interrogatively. "Holgate is not only a cool hand,but a cunning hand, a far-reasoning hand. He has let us take care ofhis treasure until he was ready for it."

  "What do you mean?" asked Barraclough in astonishment.

  "His men might have become demoralised if he had seized the safe. Hehas, therefore, feigned to them that it was not practicable. That hasbeen his reason for our security--not tender mercy for us, you mayguess. So we have kept his treasure safe, and now--he wants it."

  "Why now?" queried Barraclough, who frowned.

  "That's Holgate's secret. I suppose he knows what he is going to do andwhat destination he wants. We don't. Anyway, we're turning throughMagellan to-night, and he has no further use for us."

  "I wish I'd shot that fiend to-day," said Barraclough savagely.

  Mademoiselle looked from one to the other, a curious expression on herface.

  "He is a remarkable man, this 'Olgate?" she asked.

  "He is--pardon, Mademoiselle--the devil," said Barraclough.

  She laughed her fluting laughter. "Oh, but the devil may be perhapsconverted," she said. "He may be tamed. You say music have powers totame the savage breast." She tapped her bosom dramatically, and smiled."There is many men that may be tamed."

  She cast a soft glance at Barraclough and then at me.

  But I only got the edge of it, for at that moment I caught sight of agray face, with little tufts of whisker under the ears, and glancingglasses that hung over the railings of the music balcony above. It wasPye. Had he been there long in the darkness or had he only justarrived, attracted by the light and the voices? The latter seemed themore probable assumption, for as I looked up he made an awkwardmovement as if he was embarrassed at being discovered. Yet if he hadbeen eavesdropping, where was the harm? But somehow I felt annoyed. Theothers followed my glance, but the clerk had gone.

  Mademoiselle Trebizond sighed and put her small hand over her mouth tohide a yawn.

  "It is so what you call dull, Sir John," she protested in hercoquettish way. "Nothing but sea, sea, and not even the chance to go ondeck. I would sooner have the mutineers. Oh, but it was insensate toleave Europe and France. No, it is a country the most diabolic thisside of the ocean. What is there under the sea, Sir John?"

  "Why, the fishes, Mademoiselle," said he, grinning.

  "No, no; understand me, Monsieur. I mean under the ground. What isthere?" She waved her hands. "Sea, sea, sea, nothing else, andsavages," she added thoughtfully.

  "They would be interesting," I suggested drily.

  She looked at me. "My good friend, doctor, you are right," she saidcharmingly. "More interesting than this company. Monsieur 'Olgate, heis interesting, is it not?"

  "We may have an opportunity of judging presently," said I lightly.

  Mademoiselle got up and peered out of the port-holes. The glow of theelectric light in the luxurious saloon threw into blueness the starkdarkness of the evening. Nothing was visible, but through the portsstreamed the cadences of the water rising and falling about the hull.It had its picturesque side, that scene, and looked at with sympatheticeyes the setting was romantic, whatever tragedy might follow. That itwas to be tragedy I was assured, but this pretty, emotional butterflyhad no such thoughts. Why should she have? She was safeguarded by theprince of a regnant line; she was to be the mistress of millions; andshe could coquette at will in dark corners with handsome officers. Shewas bored, no doubt, and when dominoes with her maid failed her, shehad Barraclough to fall back on, and there was her art behind all ifshe had only an audience. I began to see the explanation of thatastonishing scene earlier in the day. She was vain to her finger-tips;she loved sensations; and it was trying even to be the betrothed of aroyal prince if divorced from excitements to her vanity. After all,Prince Frederic, apart from his lineage, was an ordinary mortal, andhis conversation was not stimulating. In Germany or in ParisMademoiselle would have footed it happily as the consort even of adethroned prince; but what was to be got out of the eternal wash andsilence of the ocean, out of the sea, sea, sea, as she herself phrasedit?

  She came back from the port-hole. "It is so dull," she said, and yawnedpolitely. Well, it was dull, but perhaps dulness was more pleasant thanthe excitements which we were promised. With a flirt of her eyes sheleft us.

  When she was gone Barraclough eyed me coldly and steadily.

  "You didn't say all you had to say," he remarked.

  "No, I didn't. Lights or no lights, Holgate will attack presently--Iwill not pin myself to to-night. He is where he wants to be, or will besoon. Then he has no use for us"--I paused--"women or men."

  "Good God, do you think him that sort of scoundrel?" he inquiredsharply.

  "What has he done? Played with us as a cat with mice. Oh, he's the mostunholy ruffian I've ever struck. And you know it. Look at his face. No,Barraclough, it's death, it's death to every man jack."

  "And the women?" he said hesitatingly.

  I too hesitated. "No, I don't credit him with that. He threatened, butI don't quite believe. Yet I don't know. No; I think it's a question ofa terminus for all of us, man and woman"--I paused--"including yourpretty friend there."

  He turned sharply on me, but made no remark. His eyelids were drawn andheavy and his eyes surcharged. He appeared to be under the stress ofsome severe thought. I moved away, leaving it at that, for it wasobvious that he was moved. As I reached the door I happened to glanceback. Barraclough stood where I had left him, his brows knitted; but myeyes passed from him to the gallery, and there lighted on Mademoiselle,who stood with one hand on the railing gazing down at Barraclough. Shehad her hand to her heart, and her face was white like death, but thatmay have been the effect of the electric light. I wondered, as I hadwondered about Pye, how long she had been there, and if she had heard.Had she spied on us of a set purpose? If so (God help her!) she hadtaken no good of her eavesdropping. A pity for her seized me. She wasstill and silent in the course of my gaze, but, as I looked, the shipheeled, her bosom struck the railing heavily, and she uttered a tinycry. Barraclough glanced up and saw her. As I went out a cold blaststreamed off the sea and entered the open ports; the waters rocked androared. I guessed that we were entering the channel.

  I had made my report to Barraclough, but I had to report to the Prince.When I reached his cabin I found him seated before his table, engagedin sorting a number of documents. He wore glasses, which I had neverseen on him before, and he proffered me a severe frown as I entered. Ihave never to this day rightly assessed the character of PrinceFrederic of Hochburg, so many odd ingredients entered into it. He wasdictatorial, he was even domineering, he was hard-working, and he wasconscientious. About these qualities I had already made up my mind. Buthis acts had been wholly in disregard of the r
hythmical and regularconventions which he should thus have associated with himself. He hadbroken with his fatherland, he had thrown over dynastic laws, he hadgone by his will alone, and no red tape. Perhaps there was thesolution. He had gone by his conscience. I have said I was convinced ofhis conscientiousness, and possibly in these strange departures fromthe code of his fathers he was following a new and internal guide, tothe detriment of his own material interests. He had abandoned theessence while retaining the forms of his birth and breeding. At least,this is but my assumption; his actions must explain him for himself. Ihave set down faithfully how he behaved from the first moment I methim. Let him be judged by that.

  The Prince, then, who had violated the traditions of his house by hisproposed alliance, was occupied in his accounts. That, at any rate, iswhat I gathered from the hasty glance I got at the sheets of figuresbefore him.

  "Well, sir?" said he brusquely.

  "I report, sir, that we have entered the Straits of Magellan, and thatwe have every reason to look for an attack at any moment," I saidformally.

  He dropped his pen. "So!" he said, nodding quite pleasantly.

  "It is just as well that it comes, doctor. We have been too long on therack. It has done us no good."

  "I think you are right, sir," I answered; "and, on the other hand, ithas been of service to the mutineers."

  He looked perplexed. "We have taken charge of the safes for them," Iexplained.

  He sat silent awhile, and then mechanically curled his moustacheupwards.

  "Yes--yes--yes," he said. "You are right. That, then, is the reason.This man is clever."

  It seemed the echo of what his lady-love had said a quarter of an hourbefore. I made no reply, as none seemed necessary. He went to thebarred window, in which a gap was open, letting in the night, and theact recalled again to me Mademoiselle. Was this scion of royaltyperishing for an idea? He looked very strong, very capable, and ratherwonderful just then. I had never been drawn to him, but I had at themoment some understanding of what it might be to be the subject of somasterful and unreasonable a man. Yet now he was not at allunreasonable, or even masterful. He turned back to me.

  "Doctor," he said gently, "we must see that the ladies are notincommoded."

  "We will all do our best," I answered, wondering if he knew howinadequate a word he had used. Incommoded! Good heavens! Was myknowledge of Holgate to go for nothing? What would be the end? Was theman an idealist? He seemed sunk in a dream, and I saw his face softenas he stared out at the sea. Compassion gushed in my heart. I turnedaway.