XI
WHEN THE SHIP COMES IN
Back in his stateroom Warren was poring with renewed interest over thetime-tables between Liverpool, London, Paris, and Madrid. Seguro was onthe main line from the French capital to the principal one of Spain.
As he made various penciled memoranda upon a page of his leathernotebook, the telephone bell tinkled.
He answered and heard the voice of the Princess.
"Can you see me at once,--on the promenade deck, by my door?"
"Yes. Good-by."
In a few moments he was talking to her in the dark; all the lights ofher suite were out. The girl was very nervous.
"I have a paper which Nita found upon the floor--it was crumpled andmust have fallen from the pocket of my cousin when he fell. I want togive you back that belt, Mr. Jarvis: for I have heard before of some ofthe wager-debts of Carlos. It is safer with you. Let me know what youthink about this paper, and tell me to-morrow morning. We are due inport late in the evening, you know."
"I will. There may be something in which I wish your help, as well,your Highness. I have made up my mind to reach Seguro before theDuke--for many reasons."
The girl caught his hand impetuously.
"You don't fear for your life before you get there, do you?" she askedsoftly. "I want you to help me in my castle. That is our bargain--but Iknow you better than I did when we met in New York. I don't want you torun too big a risk for me until the great trial comes. Do be careful,now."
A thrill sent the Kentuckian's head reeling for an instant at theunexpected touch of those warm, electric fingers. Then he caughthimself.
"Your vassal is still ambitious for promotion. But he will not fightthe windmills of Spain on an old mule like Don Quixote. He prefersmodern methods--such as dynamite, and other pleasant little novelties."
He pressed her hand with a returning warmth, slipped the belt abouthim, and started down the promenade deck again. Something prompted himto step into the black shadow of a companionway as a figure crossedbeneath an electric overhead lamp far forward on the deck.
He waited.
The figure approached noiselessly.
It was the Duke! He was wearing slippers, with felt soles apparently,for his steps caused no sound. Jarvis watched him with a strangemisgiving--a fear not for himself. Yet he deemed it wiser to wait fordevelopments.
Up and down the deck paced the nervous, noiseless figure. At last theDuke returned and disappeared from view, through the door by which hehad entered the Kentuckian's view.
"I wonder what that meant?" thought Jarvis. "Perhaps he is having afight with his conscience--just as I have been doing."
And he watched the speeding waves, racing past the great vessel as itseemed--for so steady was the swift advance of the ship that it seemedthey were on dry land, rather than the boundless expanse of the depths.
"Here I am--after all my education, all the work of years, to advancemyself, running away from my own country--an escaped gun-man, just likean East Side thug."
In the comfortable calm of the shipboard life, with unfamiliar scenes,away from the reminders of his tragedy at Meadow Green, it did not nowseem a fine thing that he had done.
Man is not normally a destroyer of his own kind--and his fine instinctswere asserting themselves. Yet, after all, despite his vow to hisfather, this had been actual self-defense.
The other had fired the first shot: he had planned to trap him with adecoy, and in the end it was survival of the fittest.
These thoughts had been frequently in his mind, but he had resolutelydriven them from him. Now they were nearing another port, a greatcommercial cross-ways of the travel world. Here again he was comingwithin the grasp of the law.
He was not too certain that all had been given up, in that questioningpursuit of the Princess and her party. That broken door lock might yetadmit the hand of legal vengeance.
"And that Duke? He'll try to earn that five thousand dollars surelyenough now. Well, I'd better be worrying over my own future instead ofthe dead past. They've said 'let the dead past bury itself, and don'tclimb the graveyard fence.' That's good logic. But I'd better belooking toward some of the fences ahead. I wonder what is on thepaper?"
He returned to his stateroom, where Rusty was dozing in a chair,waiting for the good-night instructions.
Jarvis sat down and studied the fragment. He sat bolt upright, at firstwith rage and then a growing amusement.
"Look here, Rusty. This Duke is trying to put one over on me," hedeclared, waking his servant.
"Huh? What's dat, Marse Warren?" and Rusty rubbed his eyes drowsily.
"Do you see what this paper is?"
"Looks like a telegram letter, boss."
"That's a wireless blank, Rusty. It has never been sent. It is thefirst draft. See--the words are crossed out here, and a sentencechanged there. The person who wrote this message tried to save money,by cutting it down, just as we, back home, waste a dollar's worth oftime, trying to shorten a telegraph message into ten words. Isn't thatreasonable?"
"Yassir. But what does it mean? I don't read no sich langwidge."
Jarvis smiled.
"It's in Spanish. It's addressed to Scotland Yard, in London."
"What's dat? Is it some schoolhouse lot?"
"It's detective headquarters, Rusty. And it is about me."
"About you-all!" Rusty was wide awake by this time, in all truth. Hehad an instinctive suspicion of anything connected with brass buttonsand detectives.
"Yes. It warns Scotland Yard that a man named Warren, on thissteamship, is wanted by the New York police, and that I should bearrested before the passengers can leave."
"Who signed dat mizzable contraption?"
"It isn't signed, Rusty. The only person who writes Spanish and whocould be so deeply interested in my wickedness is that high and mightyrelative of the Princess. He wrote it in Spanish so the wirelessoperator probably wouldn't notice or understand the message."
"Well, Marse Warren, dis is a ship--dey alluz has ropes. Can't youclimb overboard when she is hitched to de wharfboat?"
Jarvis was thinking rapidly. He looked at his watch.
"The detectives will come on with the pilot boat, Rusty, which Iunderstand meets the _Mauretania_ about eight or ten miles offshore.There won't be any chance on the wharfboat. But that gives me a goodidea--however, it doesn't seem right to make the Duke of Alva waste hishard-earned coin on wireless messages. There's no free list withMarconi, you know."
Jarvis was walking up and down the stateroom nervously by this time.
"Rusty, in my suitcase is an old suit of clothes which I put in to use,if I had to jump the town on account of Marcum. I thought I might go tothe mountains when I went over to the Belmont Hotel. Now, get it out,and those old tennis shoes, and that cap."
"Whaffor, Marse Warren?" The big whites of his eyes were rolling--anindication that Rusty Snow's mind was not as much at ease as usual."You ain't gonta do nothin' dangerous, is you, Marse Warren? Rememberyou-all is de oney one left in de fam'ly an' you's got to look afteryohself."
Warren placed a kindly hand on the negro's shoulder.
"Rusty, I remember that once when Meadow Green got too small for you,years ago, you started out with a minstrel show--'The DarktownMerrymakers,' they called it."
This leap over the chasm of years was too much for Rusty.
"Yassir," he agreed, after recovering from his surprise. "But, I had towalk back home."
"The thing I want to know, Rusty, is whether you learned how to actwhen you were with that troupe. Did you?"
"Did I? Marse Warren, dere wasn't no _amotion_ dat wasn't developed inme on dat trip--I started off laughin' and came back like a weepin'angel."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Jarvis. "That's splendid. Now, Rusty, I want to haveyou do some more play-acting--only turn it around. This time I want youto go away weeping, and we'll come back laughing!"
Rusty was actually offended.
"Ah, Marse Warren. You's pickin' on d
e ole nigger. Dat was w'en I was ayoung an' sassy coon. No moh actin' fer mine."
"That's just what you've got to do, Rusty. Obey orders or walk back toNew York!"
Rusty blinked and grumbled to himself. Then, as usual, he acquiescedwith that famous grin.
"Oh, Marse Warren, I'm game fer anything dat you is. What is de play?"
"I think we can call this one 'Why Dukes Leave Home,' Rusty. Now, youget busy with those clothes, and pack up the suitcases again, so theywon't be missed. I'm going on the boat deck, over us, for a little walkand some thinking."
Jarvis was gone for about fifteen minutes. Rusty was beginning to getnervous by the time he had returned. His hands and face were sooty.
"Where you-all been, Marse Warren? Climbin' up on de smokestack?"
"No, just investigating things. Now, after I write this note I willtell you about your acting and give you a rehearsal. I haven't any timeto lose, Rusty."
Warren wrote very carefully, tearing the paper up several times andthrowing the fragments through the open porthole, for this was anoutside stateroom. At last he had finished it.
He smiled over it more than once, finally sealed it, and laid itcarefully in the center of the little folding writing-desk, where itwas in plain view from the door.
Then he began to disrobe, changing to the rough old suit and the tennisshoes. He dispensed with undergarments and hose.
"Now, Rusty, I want you to go down to the steward of the second cabinand tell him you are very hungry. Get some good sliced meat, somebiscuits, and some fruit. Wrap it up in paper--I know it's late, butthere's always someone on watch in the pantry. A little American moneywill go a long way with these British stewards. Hurry back."
As soon as Rusty was out of the room, Jarvis wrapped the money-beltfirmly about his body, under the flannel shirt. He placed some goldcoins in a handkerchief, which he tied into a knot. Then he slipped outto the promenade deck, walking along its deserted length to the room ofthe Princess. He tapped on the window of the parlor of the suite untilthe door opened slightly.
Nita's frightened voice came to him. He answered reassuringly.
"It is Warren. I want to speak to the Princess."
The maid hurried back, and brought her mistress. Warren spoke to her ina whisper.
"I understand the treachery," he said. "Have no fear. I will meet youat Seguro when you arrive. Be surprised at nothing--and take care ofRusty, if he needs it. I intend winning that five thousand dollars evenif the Duke's note goes to protest! Good-by!"
She felt his warm, strong hand clasping hers. A great dread came overher--an unusual sensation it was. Yet she said nothing, for somestrange reason inexplicable to herself.
She passed a sleepless night.
Next morning the news spread over the ship like wildfire that a firstcabin passenger was missing!
All his belongings were in order; his clothes hung up carefully in thewardrobe, just as he had undressed, assisted by his faithful valet.
And that poor unfortunate--how he sobbed and beat his portly bosom overthe grief which was racking the loyal African heart. The Duke of Alvawent to the captain to inquire about the terrible affair.
"Yes, sir. He is gone. A pleasant, courteous fellow, too. Always mindedhis own business, never complained. It's too bad. Too bad. And thatletter he left--it nearly broke my heart--and I'm a gruff old sea-dog,and have seen many a tragedy in my years as a master!"
The captain wiped his eye with the back of his hand.
The Duke fingered his cane nervously.
"But the note, sir. What did that say? As the cousin of her exaltedHighness, Princess Maria Theresa of Aragon, I insist on knowing aboutthis strange person. He was in my cousin's employ. She is entitled toknow what sort of a person he was."
The captain glared angrily at the Duke.
"I am the commander of this vessel, sir. On the high sea, I am insupreme control, and know how to run the _Mauretania_ without advicefrom a bloody Spanish popinjay! I will turn that letter over to theauthorities when we land." The captain spluttered indignantly.
"They will meet the boat as the pilot comes on board. I sent them awireless!" cried the Duke.
"How dare you go over my head, in any matter of discipline on thisvessel?" cried the raging commander. "What do you mean by such a thing?I am the one to warn."
The Duke was embarrassed, for he felt the helplessness of his positionbefore this legalized tyrant of the deep.
"I've a mind to think all was not well with this unfortunate young man,from the tone of his letter before he jumped overboard. Not a thing wasmissing from his wardrobe, but the pajamas he wore--when he ran out onthe deck. At least, we find no clothes missing! I'll have something tosay to Scotland Yard myself!"
"But the man threatened to shoot me if I spoke to you or any of theofficers about him. Now that he is dead I don't fear him."
"Huh!" snorted the captain. "You look about the type of man whowouldn't fear the dead. But what about ghosts, young man! What about_ghosts_? Did you stop to think of ghosts after people are dead?"
This perfectly innocent question of the seafaring, superstitious mindhad a curious effect upon the nobleman.
"_Carramba!_" he muttered between his teeth, and turned away with awhite face. "I wonder what could have been in that letter?"
And the captain glowered at him as he walked nervously down thecompanionway to his lonely stateroom, to brood in a state of miserableapprehension.
Toward dinner-time the pilot boat was sighted. Several men clambered onboard, as well as that official. They sought the captain, and thenvisited the Princess. Carlos took good care to be in her suite whenthey came.
Rusty, weeping as though his heart were broken, detailed the sadconversation which he had held the preceding night with his unfortunateemployer.
"Poh Marse Warren! Ah'll nebber see 'im again--until de time for deghost!"
At this speech Maria Theresa observed a nervous twitching about themouth of her noble kinsman.
Then Rusty became so incoherent in his sorrow that they could get nosatisfaction out of him. They studied the circumstances of the case andmade their notes, with frequent whispered conferences. Next to Rusty,the Duke was the most unhappy person present, although the Princessshowed the strain of her uneasiness.
After the men completed the first quizzing, they repaired once more toWarren's stateroom to seek for other papers.
When they had been gone a minute or so, Carlos waved Nita out of theroom. That young person could look otherwise than melting with herblack eyes when occasion demanded. This glance was of the sparklingkind which would kill!
"Tell me, my dear Maria Theresa," began Carlos, after some stammering,"did you inform the detectives about the money-belt which he gave toyou?"
"Naturally not. That was his affair, and the property passed out of hispossession when I became stakeholder, according to the laws of wagers,did it not?"
"Ah, yes. You are a brilliant girl. And a logical one, too. Well, giveit to me, then, as the affair is settled. I have several debts which Iwould like to pay as we pass through London."
The Princess' eyes blazed but her voice was smooth.
"So, my cousin, you claim your wager thus promptly. Are you aware thatit would look bad for you if the detectives knew you had bet thisenormous sum--and now were the gainer because of his disappearance?Tell me, Carlos, do you know any more than the rest of us about theGhost Breaker?"
The man rose to his feet, his knees wavering, and then with a supremeeffort he steadied himself against the back of the chair. His eyes weredistended and the handsome mouth sagging.
"_Madre de Dios!_" he cried appealingly--all nonchalance and scorn nowmissing from his mien, "You don't mean to say that _you_--my bloodrelative--the woman I adore, could _believe such a thing_?"
The girl looked away. He could not see the ironical smile on thescarlet lips.
"Carlos, I have said no such thing. But wouldn't it be better to waituntil we reach Seguro--as a matter of
sportsmanship? Our family has hadthe reputation of being honorable, even in games and wagers. I amnervous, Carlos. This has upset me more than you can believe. I willnever mention the wager again, until you bring up the subject."
And she retired to her stateroom, where Nita dressed the soft dark hairwith her accustomed skill--and a smile concealed with difficulty.
The search was ended. The Scotland Yard men scoured all the cabins,from steerage up; they even quizzed the engineers, the stokers, thecooks, the multitude of men and passengers. No clew could alter the saddeduction which they had drawn.
"Well, Captain," said the detective in charge of the case, "it's a sadaffair. But he's better off. We'll take this letter to headquarters,sir, with your written report of the circumstances. What will be doneabout the negro servant?"
The captain shook his head.
"Poor fellow, he is heartbroken. The Princess has very kindly offeredto take him into her service. The letter asked that all the baggage,clothes, and personal property in the stateroom be given as a farewellgift to the faithful fellow. If you have no objection I will let himtake the luggage along, when he leaves the ship with the party of herHighness."
And that is how it was, that evening, that out through the dismaldrizzle of an interminably long day Rusty Snow marched down the dock,carrying Warren Jarvis' luggage and two satchels of the Princess ofAragon--another loyal retainer in her service.
It was a curious ending to an unusual voyage.
And Carlos, Duke of Alva, breathed a sigh of relief as he passed thelast dock policeman, to assist his cousin into a waiting taxicab. Theywere to take the night train for London.
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