by Frank Savile
CHAPTER XXI
FATE STAYS HER HAND
Rescue, liberty, and, not least, triumph over Landon! These were allpossibilities, even probabilities, clear to Claire Van Arlen'sintelligence as she bent over Aylmer--clear, but undefined. Yet the oneoutstanding, engrossing thought was that her champion had fallen in themoment of victory. The blood was flowing from a deep cut on hisforehead; he was unconscious; the color had ebbed from his very lips. Anagony of apprehension seized upon her. He was dead! He was dead!
And then--the pulse of that relief will be quick in her to her dyingday--his eyes opened, he stirred. He did more than stir; he made effortsto rise.
She held him masterfully; her voice was stern in her command to him tolie still. And he looked up at her with an incredulous glance in whichhumor had its part. He smiled--a puzzled smile. Suddenly remembrancecame back to him and his bewilderment became anxiety.
"The gunboat?" he asked hoarsely. "They saw me, they were slowing down!"
She nodded silently as she looked about her. They had floated within theshadow cast by the towering bulk of the island nearest them. The lastred rim of the sun's disc had passed below the horizon. The dusk wasgathering. A mile away the gunboat was turning ponderously.
Rapidly she told him what she saw and he nodded a satisfied assent.
"They're done, now," he whispered triumphantly. "We have them in a cleftstick!"
But Fate--listening Fate--shook her head.
It was Muhammed who had taken command of the situation, Muhammed whoroared his orders to hoist again the half-lowered sail, to let drift thedingy from the stern, to stand by the halliards for a tack. He leapedupon the tiller and flung the boat's prow round to point directly forthe land.
The freshening breeze from the northwest swelled out the great sail asthe panting sailors swung the yard aslant the mast. The water sang andbubbled from the prow. The _Santa Margarita_ leaped landwards like aliving thing, straight for the cliffs of shadowing stone.
Captain Luigi, completely unnerved by the sudden crisis to which eventshad soared, wailed protests without attempting interference.
"I call you to witness that I said he had the evil eye!" he cried. "Icall you to witness! Capture or destruction--there are no two ways toit!"
"There is One God and one road to safety for a brave man," answeredMuhammed, as he leaned his strength upon the helm. "They call itcourage. Run out the French flag, _amigo_! They dare not fire on that,here, in debatable waters, for all their claim to these islands aswithin the grip of Spain."
A sudden pang of doubt shook Claire. The gunboat was completing itsturning movement--slowly--ah, how slowly! And yet? How could thefelucca, with no more than a fresh breeze to rely on, hope to evadethat greyhound of the seas? A spout of gray smoke burst from the graypainted sides; the sound of a cannon shot echoed down to them among thecrags.
Muhammed laughed.
"Blank cartridge," he said derisively. "Within five minutes their faceswill be as blank. Sons of dirt, I spit upon you!"
The girl's apprehension grew. Confidence rang in the Moor's voice. Hesmiled as one who had already triumphed. And still the felucca droveshorewards, relentlessly towards the bare face of stone.
But the torpedo boat was gaining speed. The white lift of the foam wasveiling her bows; she ripped through the waters as a blade rips throughcalico, directly, cleanly, tossing aside the waves. Another fewminutes--seven--six--perhaps less--and she must be alongside. And theisland cliff seemed to overhang them now; the great sail flapped as thebreeze beat back from the sheer rock against its breadth.
A second time Muhammed roared his orders. The sailors shifted the hugespar around the mast, swinging it as on a pivot. The _Santa Margarita_came about, dancingly.
The rush and boil of breaking foam on the seaward bow caught Claire'sear. She glanced over the taffrail.
A comber was breaking on a great tooth of black rock within half acable's length of the boat. Not far ahead she saw the white after-spumeof another--and beyond that a third--a fourth--countless ones. They werewithin a very labyrinth of reefs. And Muhammed, swerving the tillerdelicately from side to side, steered unshaken, his eyes piercing intothe swiftly coming gloom, the smile of victory growing round his lips.
She understood, and before she turned her eyes astern knew hope waslost. The torpedo boat was slackening speed; the cream of her wake beganto slide past her sides and swirl round her bow as she slowed, wentastern, halted on the lips of danger, and then reluctantly turned.
A yell went up from the felucca as the crew saw themselves saved--a yellof defiance.
Again the gray jet of smoke spurted from the gray port, and this timethe background of purple dusk showed the red tongue of the flame. Thesound of the report reached them, but not so swiftly as another sound--anerve-rending menace which shrieked in their very ears, as it seemed,and passed, to thunder crashingly against the forehead of the crag. Andagain Muhammed laughed and showed his white teeth, and roared to hisfellows to swing the yard-arm about as he spun the boat between twowaiting jaws of rock and sent her bounding out into the open before thelash of the favoring breeze. And night fell over them--for Claire VanArlen the hopeless night of despair.
She looked up to find Miller standing beside her, looking down atAylmer's face with sombre, inquiring eyes. And she realized for thefirst time that in that face the eyes were closed again, the lipsbloodless, the cheeks sunken. She gave an exclamation; she bent andstanched the blood which still flowed from the wounded temple.
Miller picked up a bucket, seized a rope, attached it to the handle, andslung it overboard. He placed it, brimmed with water, at her feet. Shelooked up again, eyed him silently and without thanks, dipped herhandkerchief in the water and laved Aylmer's face. And Miller himselfremained silent, as if he would force the first comment from her, as ifhe probed for information by mere inertness. Had he been heard? Sheguessed that he was asking himself--and by force of silence, her--thisquestion.
A sudden instinct not to betray herself gripped her. Aylmer? Was not hean example of a like reticence? He had not revealed the fact that hishands were free till circumstances had revealed it, with a vengeance.She would follow this example and so tell nothing. She pillowed Aylmer'shead gently upon a coil of rope and stood up.
"The hope of rescue is gone then?" she said quietly. "There is no chanceof their rounding the island, and encountering us later?"
He shrugged his shoulders doubtfully.
"They seldom carry search-lights--craft of that size, in the Spanishnavy, at any rate. No, Muhammed's seamanship has taken the trick thistime. Spanish captains do not waste coal lavishly, and what, after all,have they to go on. Merely the words 'Help! Prisoners!' It might easilyhave been the vagary of some half-drunken sponge-fisher."
She looked at him keenly.
"That was what he signalled?" she said. "You understood that?"
"I know the international code," he said simply. He looked down atAylmer again. "His escapade has not improved our position," he added."When Landon comes to himself--"
"He is not seriously wounded, then?" she cried in quick disappointment."I had hoped--I had prayed--"
"What?" he asked, as she hesitated.
"That he had been killed," she answered slowly. "Is there any escapefrom the net of villainy in which he has us all entrapped?"
He looked at her silently, and the dawn of a hard smile glimmered abouthis lips. He pointed aft.
"Will you come and look?" he said. "Perhaps I have undervalued yourprayers. I am no surgeon, but I would wager a larger sum on his revivingthan I would on the recovery of--this."
He touched Aylmer with the point of his foot. There was no ungentlenessin the action, but it seemed instinctive--the gesture of an autocrat orof a dictator, seeing all men under his feet.
She gave a gesture of assent and followed him into the gloom cast by thesail upon the stern. Landon lay within a foot of where he had fallen,his head pillowed upon a tarpaulin. Muhammed had relinquished the
tillerto Captain Luigi and was dropping _aguardiente_ between the set lips andthe color was stealing slowly back into the cheeks which had been aspale as Aylmer's own. Landon's eyes opened as Claire reached and stoodbeside him.
They met hers at first without recognition. Then a gleam of feelingflashed in them--a gleam which grew in fierceness as he gazed.
"I remember!" he muttered. He made a feeble effort to rise, whichMuhammed prevented by the steady pressure of a hand. "By the Lord, heshall pay for it--and you!"
And then, meeting that glance, and stricken by the revulsion from thehope which the events of the last few minutes had engendered, Clairesurrendered to a sense of despair. What could the future hold for herexcept--the worst? As far as she was concerned, the deal with fate wasfinished and she had lost finally. But even despair could not crush thematernal, protective instinct which had sprung into being in the silo ofEl Dibh, which had grown into full flower through the last dark hours inthe lazaret. She spoke quickly, on the spur of the moment.
"Him you cannot hurt," she answered. "He is escaping you; he is dying."
Landon struggled under Muhammed's restraining hand.
"Is he?" he cried, looking at Miller. "Is he? He's not going before Iget my hands on him! For God's sake, man, say he isn't! Say it isn'ttrue!"
Miller shrugged his shoulders apathetically.
"We'll do all we can," he temporized.
Landon gnashed his teeth and burst into hysterical weeping.
"Ah, but I wanted to have my will of him!" he cried. "It's he and allthe thousands like him that have put me here! The cursed hypocrites! Islipped; I went against their code, and they jostled each other totrample me when I was down! And I?" He shook his fist weakly into thenight. "I? I was no worse than the best of them. I was only myself--thenatural man--and they flung me out! And I could have repaid every stab,every kick, on him--on him!"
He writhed and then suddenly steadied himself. Again his eyes focussedevilly upon Claire.
"Go to him!" he ordered. "Go to him and do your utmost for him! Bringhim round and I'll be light with you; I'll save you--the worst of it.Let him slip through your fingers, and by every devil in Hell I'll makeyou pay double, double, and double that!"
She turned from him silently and in turning made a little stagger.Miller's hand slipped under her elbow; for an instant she found that hewas supporting her. She stirred away from him in uncontrollable disgust.
A moment later she had pulled herself together; she murmured adisjointed sentence of thanks, and moved away towards the scuppers whereAylmer still lay motionless, realizing, as she reached it, that the grayman was still at her side. He was looking at her keenly, but with animpassive gaze which told her nothing.
She bent her face to the white lips. Faintly, but still distinct, shefelt the breath pass from them. She rose with a little gesture ofappeal.
"You must help me," she said. "We must get him below."
For a moment he hesitated. Then he passed his arms behind the other'sshoulders and lifted him. She bent and took his knees. Staggering againat first, but with growing steadiness, she helped to half carry, halfdrag him to the companion, into the cabin, to lay him, at last, on thefloor of the lazaret.
She drew off her jacket and arranged it under his head.
She rose and looked at Miller.
"Now, if they will give me food and water, I will do what I can," shesaid simply. "Quiet is his best chance, absolute quiet."
He gave a little bow of assent.
"We must hope for the best," he answered. "You must rely on me all youcan; come into Landon's notice as little as possible. I will use myinfluences, such as they are, for the best."
The hot throb of repulsion--of hate, even--throbbed up in her, knowing,as she knew, that he was false to her, but she kept her face unmoved.She nodded.
"Yes," she answered quietly, "unless--you think my duty is to lethim--die?"
His imperturbable face lost its calm for a moment. He was genuinelystartled.
"But no!" he cried quickly. "Things are not as bad as that! The threatshe used? Those were the results of shock, of delirium. I would preventthat--I."
She looked at him very steadily.
"Yes?" she said. "You--a prisoner, like myself. How?"
He shrugged his shoulders vaguely.
"He is open to reason," he said. "He could not afford it; I could makethat plain to him, I have every assurance that I could."
He was looking at her searchingly--frowning, showing dissatisfactionwith himself for his slip. She was content to let it pass.
"Thank you," she answered. "You give me hope," and truly enough a wild,incredulous hope had just arisen in her heart, for her gaze had beenstill on Aylmer's pallid face at her feet.
The gray man still hesitated and then, with the air of one who hasprobed an enigma the solution of which still escaped him, turned andpassed into the cabin. She heard his footsteps echo along the deck overher head.
Aylmer's eyes opened, and then one of them closed again, in a wink!
She laid her finger warningly upon her lips. She bent till her lipstouched his ear.
"I knew it--I knew it!" she breathed joyfully. "Ah, but you nearlyspoilt it all. You smiled--I saw the beginning of it--when he made hisslip, and he might have seen it, too!"
He smiled again.
"The renegade!" he whispered. "I knew it before this last hour; I saw itin his face when Landon came here, before. They have some understanding,those two. And it was he who betrayed me--with his suggestion about thehalliards. I heard him, before they let them go!"
"And I!" she answered. "He is against us; we are alone, against themall!"
"Where does his profit come in?" he asked, wonderingly. "What argumentshas Landon used; how can a man like him be the gainer?"
She shook her head.
"One has met him--in Gibraltar--in society," she said. "But do we knowanything of him; does any one know?"
He was silent for a moment.
"No," he said, at last. "No one knows. I have heard it spoken of, hisunknowableness, but no one has supplied a key to the mystery. I think--Ithink if we win out of this I must set machinery to work inGibraltar--to find out."
"If!" she repeated sadly. "If!"
His lips set firmly.
"Not if," he answered resolutely. "When! Do you believe that men likeLandon win! You, yourself? Didn't you tell him that he would have topay, eventually. I'm going to present the bill--I. I know it; I have itas a conviction!"
Her eyes glowed down at him. The dead roots of hope began to sprout inher heart. The down-hearted, the _faineant_? Has any natural woman a usefor such an one? No! Nature made you the leader, they cry to the male.For God's sake, behave as one!
She offered no protest, no comment. She did not question his faith; hermatter-of-factness only asked for detail.
"Meanwhile?" she questioned. "Meanwhile?"
He made a little grimace.
"It is a gray prospect," he admitted. "I lie here, unconscious. I liephysically--and by implication--morally. I feign myself as one on thelip of extinction. I wait!"
She felt vaguely disappointed.
"You wait--till when?" she asked.
He smiled.
"Till a very old friend comes by," he answered. "She has seldom failedme, and then my own laggardness was at fault. They call herOpportunity."
