by Frank Savile
CHAPTER XIX
MILLER IS STILL IMPERTURBABLE
As the imperturbable Mr. Miller reached the deck of the _SantaMargarita_, he took stock, for the second time within a few minutes, ofhis immediate surroundings.
He saw an exceedingly dirty deck on which the smuts from the galleychimney appeared to have become embedded through long years of neglect.He smelt the very rich, nourishing odor of spaghetti fried with garlic,and sniffed unappreciatively, in spite of his hunger. He heard a coupleof nasal voices chanting cheerfully, but with an exceedingly laboredaccent, the Bersaglieri quickstep, and made a tiny grimace of protest.Around him the panorama of sea was empty of all shipping. Land was outof sight.
Muhammed leaned lazily against the tiller and eyed his late employerwith the stolid apathy which an Oriental alone can make convincing.Lounging against the panel of the companion hatch, from which Landon andhis companion had just emerged, sat the skipper, Signor Luigi, idlywhittling a stick, and looking up at his passenger with an amiableindifference.
Miller, it must be remembered, had just passed a night of greatdiscomfort and mental agitation following a most unanticipated shock.His nerves--is it wonderful?--were at tension. In spite of his ownimperturbability, on which he set some store, the _insouciant_ aspect ofhis surroundings jarred on him. Was kidnapping, then, such an everydayaffair that men cooked, and sang, and whittled under his very nose whilethe pirate's gallows very possibly stood awaiting them? He had probablynever approached petulance more nearly in the course of his well-orderedexistence.
He turned to Landon with a little shrug.
The other was holding out the half of a yard-long roll of bread, with alump of doubtful-looking cheese.
"I would have suggested a plateful of that spaghetti, my dear Miller,"he smiled, "but my watchful eye understood the curl of your nostril.This is at least clean."
Miller drew an edge of tarpaulin over a heaped rope, and, after aregretful glance at his no longer immaculately gray trousers, sat down.He took the bread and cheese and began to eat slowly.
There was something bovine in the manner in which he carefully champedeach mouthful, something ruminative about the way in which he lookedaround him. But behind this stolid mask of indifference his brain wasworking rapidly. He was putting facts as they appeared to him to thetest of logic and experience. His mental summing up was rapid. Afelucca, of Italian register: crew, three men and a boy. Engaged in thecontraband trade more or less continuously, for the ingeniouslycontrived lazaret between the cabin and the galley showed an attentionto detail made necessary by continual service. The real mast passedthrough the centre of his prison of the previous night. Yet the half ofa mast, a sham half, of course, passed through the partition and showedin the cabin. Doubtless another half was to be seen likewise in thegalley. It was a neat idea; there was nothing to indicate to the casualglance of a custom's officer that the partition between the two was notwhat it appeared to be. Nothing but actual measurements would discoverthe space which hid the intervening lazaret.
With the tonic of food, his self-reliance was entirely his again. Heturned to confront Landon after half a dozen mouthfuls, alert to probefor the limits of his position. Landon had greatly dared. Did heunderstand how greatly? Miller felt himself restored to a state ofenergy and resolution which would very quickly find out.
"This," he enunciated slowly, "is of the nature of piracy. Do you andyour underlings realize it?"
Landon was lighting a cigarette. He sucked in a full mouthful of smokeand shot it out again before he replied. The act was artificial--far tooartificial, Miller told himself--in its indifference.
"My underlings," he answered, "realize that they are well on the wayto--what shall we say--a modest competency. Beyond that, their veryfinite understandings have not advanced. _Domani_ or _manana_ are wordsfrequent in their vocabularies, but not in relation to results.Comfortable procrastination--that is the whole sense which theyappreciate in them."
"Your own outlook is sufficiently intelligent to pierce beyondto-morrow," said the other, drily.
"Certainly!" agreed Landon. "I dwell upon to-morrow, and the day afterto-morrow, and the day after that! I engage in prescient revels in theirrosy-tinted hours!"
Miller made a little inarticulate sound which expressed a restrained butunequivocal irritation.
"Shall we be business-like?" he proposed. "You have entrapped on boardthis boat three people, including myself. What advantage do you expectto get out of the situation and, bluntly, how?"
"You are such a rigid man of affairs," complained Landon. "You refuseeven to eat your breakfast without distractions."
"I find myself in an extraordinary and unfamiliar situation," saidMiller. "It is obvious that I wish to disentangle myself from it as soonas possible. Let me hear and accept or reject your terms. Is there anyneed to be mysterious?"
"None," said Landon, amiably. "But I have not been a man of successful_coups_, so far, my dear friend, and you must not grudge me theunaccustomed zests I draw from this one. To clear the situation, Ipurpose holding you all three to ransom."
"Where?"
Landon laughed.
"That you must allow me to consider a trade secret. I intend to retainyour company and that of my cousin and my sister-in-law till I am richerby some forty thousand pounds. There you have the situation in anutshell. I am willing to take the advice of such a finished man of theworld as yourself on business methods. The end in view I cannot consentto vary."
The gray man shrugged his shoulders.
"You are of opinion that money will be paid for me? By whom?"
"I can conceive two sources of supply. The German Government--pray don'tallow yourself to be startled--or, in the last resort, yourself. You arenot a poor man, unless you have grossly misused your opportunities."
"The German Government has no interests of any kind in my well-being orotherwise."
"I must take your word for it," said Landon, politely. "The alternativeremains by us, literally."
"Meanwhile, what about the laws of--whatever country you purpose usingthe shore of? We do not, I take it, remain afloat--a sort of modernVanderdecken?"
"Let me assure you that no laws or lawgivers will be of the slightestassistance. My friend Luigi and I propose being a law unto ourselves andyou."
"Ah."
Miller's tone was reflective and impassive. He had found out one of thethings he wanted to know. As he suspected, they were being taken to someremoteness, probably an island. He digested the information silently.
"You must pardon the want of--of finish in our arrangements," saidLandon. "Your capture was entirely unpremeditated; you were a gift fromthe hand of fate. Your suggestion about my child undid you. The boy hasbecome the pivot of Muhammed's existence. Queer, don't you think? I havenever professed to plumb the depths of the Oriental mind."
"And Miss Van Arlen and Aylmer?" questioned Miller. "That was a matterof premeditation?"
"Nothing less than an inspiration, a stroke of genius conceived in amoment in Muhammed's brain. Premeditate? How could we premeditate? Weexpected you and you only, or your messenger, by the next day's boat."
Miller nodded.
"Miss Van Arlen and her companion are officially drowned," he said. "Myown disappearance--how is that accounted for?"
"The matter is now probably engaging the interest of the Melillapolice. They need distraction; theirs is a gray life," said Landon,pleasantly.
Again Miller nodded, perhaps unconsciously, and in assent to somededuction of his own mind. He kept his meditative air for a second ortwo, shrugged his shoulders again pessimistically, and then made a briskgesture of acquiescence.
"And your terms--to myself--are what?" he asked.
"Ten thousand golden sovereigns," said Landon. "Do I hurt yourself-esteem by my moderation?"
Miller smiled again sombrely.
"That is, of course, preposterous," he said. "I do not possess half thesum. I should not pay it, if I did. If the alternative is that
yousupport me for the remaining number of my days, I must accept it."
"That would not be the alternative," answered Landon. "In fact, I hopeto be able to prove to you that an alternative is lacking. But, at thesame time, I am willing to hear proposals."
"My proposal remains what it was yesterday. Make your peace with yourwife's family, give up the child. I shall then be able, I have littledoubt, to put you in the way of earning more than the sum you suggest.But that you become a person tolerated in ordinary English society isessential."
"I am, in fact, to work laboriously for what is already in my grasp. Youunderrate my business capacity, my dear sir, you really do."
The gray shoulders were shrugged.
"I might possibly allow a payment of a thousand--let us say--on account.That would suffice to establish you in a decent and plausible position.The work, as you call it, would not be difficult. I rather fancy youwould find it amusing."
"I think you want me badly," said Landon. "I think I must be unique foryour purposes."
"Don't assume that it is your intelligence which my employers wish tobuy," said Miller, coolly. "It is your social standing, still somethingof an asset in your caste-ridden land."
"But I refuse to have my intelligence underrated," protested Landon,gaily. "I hug it; it tells me many things which you may not suspect.One of them is that there is a lever which will displace yourself-confidence. You are a very bad bearer of--physical pain."
Very faint was the pulse of the emotion which throbbed through Miller'seyes as he turned them towards his companion, but distinct enough forLandon to discover and greet with another amiable little laugh.
"It's where blood tells," he said. "I discovered it accidentally; wespoke of what D'Amade's men had to undergo as prisoners at the hands ofthe Moors, did we not? I mentioned the eyes gouged out, the fetteredwounded flung on slow fires, the impaled. You flinched, my dear sir, youflinched badly and--I tried you again. I harked back to like subjectsmore than once; the result satisfied me. And then I began to dwell uponyour complexion. Is that olive tint from Spain, or was there a nearforefather in the gorgeous East? Are you of Hindoo blood, my friend--areyou?"
Miller's impassive eyes met his, looked deeply within them, and wanderedvaguely towards the empty spaces of the sea. Landon chuckled.
"By God, I wouldn't stop anywhere, with you, you renegade!" he sworewith sudden, hot, irrational rancor. "I'd deal with you. Will any onestop me? Ask those men--Mafiaists, every one. Stop me! They'd give metips; they'd mutilate you as they'd mutilate their own domestic animals,for fun!"
Miller drew back a couple of paces, not with any show of disgust orfear, but with the air of an artist who wishes to regard a finished workfrom a more distant aspect. And he surveyed Landon keenly.
"So I am being threatened?" he said quietly.
Landon grinned wickedly.
"So you're being threatened," he agreed. "Deliberate the matter; give ityour best attention; and all the while remember that there is nothingwhich will stop me, not a single solitary thing."
"I think you are wrong," said Miller, slowly, and then--the sound of itwas bizarre to the last degree between his lips--he whistled a quaintlittle run, which thrilled and quavered up and down half a dozen bars toend upon a long-drawn note.
There was a queer silence. Landon looked at him with a frown whichimplied scarcely apprehension, but what is nearly akin toit--bewilderment. For there was no mistaking the intention with whichthe thing was done. Miller had whistled the tripping little airdeliberately.
There was a stirring from below. The two hands appeared, and appearedwith a suddenness which left no room for doubt that they had beensummoned. The savor of burning spaghetti followed them; the summons hadbeen one exacting instant obedience. They had left the frying-pan uponthe fire. Together with their appearance came the sound from thecompanion of Captain Luigi stumbling to his feet.
"Fling this man overboard!" said Miller, in level, indifferent tones. Hepointed to Landon.
Landon gave a shout which brimmed with incredulity as much as fear. Hishand flew to his breast pocket fumblingly, but too late. Miller's gripwas on his wrist; Miller's thrust flung him into the skipper's waitingarms. As Muhammed relinquished the helm and sprang forward, one of thedeck hands ducked, tripped him, and rose between his legs--that deadlyMafiaist trick which never fails of its results. The other had closed inupon Landon as he struggled in the captain's grip. He assisted to draghim relentlessly towards the gunwale.
Landon yelled again. His eyes glared out of the struggle at Miller in avery fury of amazement. He bellowed oaths, blasphemies, obscenitieseven, the fruits of instinctive passions and automatic to his wrath. Andthere was something almost devilish in the silence which his twoassailants kept. They panted a little, by stress of effort, but theyuttered no other sound. They merely edged their victim nearer and yetnearer to the side, forced him against the gunwale, stooped withconcerted action for one last heave, and then--fell away from him with alittle obsequious shrug. For Miller's voice had been heard again.
"_Basta_--enough!" he had said, his voice still unraised.
Landon lay where their relinquished efforts had left him, huddledagainst the gunwale, and staring up at his surroundings with fierce,incredulous eyes. Muhammed was stretched prone beneath his assailantwho, as he tripped him, had deftly caught the Moor's right wrist andtwisted it behind his back. He sat on his prisoner now, still holdingthe other's hand, but carelessly and without open concern, perfectlyaware that the slightest movement from his human pedestal would breakthe delicate bone as pipe-clay breaks--in one clean snap.
"Have I made myself plain?" asked Miller, equably.
Landon used a moment of complete silence to stare round the deck,poising his glance on each of his companions in turn. It rested, atlast, on Miller's entirely emotionless countenance.
"Yes--and damn you!" said Landon, rising sullenly to his feet.
Miller nodded.
"An amateur cannot break into my particular class of business, my dearLandon," he said. "There are pitfalls for him at every turn. Membershipof a dozen organizations is necessary, and they are close corporations;even their humbler servants, as you see, find them rigidly exacting."
Landon shrugged his shoulders, produced his cigarette case andmatch-box, stuck a match in his mouth, and drew the cigarette across theroughened edge of the box. Miller suffered himself to smile.
"Your nerves are not altogether at their best," he allowed, "but thereis no need to emphasize the fact. I have no wish to deal harshly withyou. In fact, half of the scheme you have just outlined to me has myapproval. I shall not interfere with your desire to receive compensationfrom your father-in-law, but whatever you receive you will regard, ifyou please, as from me, provided by my efforts and to be accounted forin full! Is that understood?"
Landon shrugged his shoulders again.
"I welcome your assistance," he said quietly, and put the cigarette toits appointed use.
"But _my_ scheme has, in the final event, to be carried out in all itsdetails," Miller added. "In your bargain with your relations, completesocial regeneration and recognition is included."
"But not--the boy?" said Landon, slowly.
"But not the boy," repeated Miller. "The first, I have satisfied myself,cannot be obtained without the surrender of the second. You follow me?"
Landon looked at Muhammed, looked at the deck hand who still satimpassive on the Moor's shoulders, looked at Luigi, looked, lastly, atMiller.
He shrugged his shoulders.
"We are in your hands--literally," he said, and made an amiable gestureof assent.
