The Coast of Adventure

by Harold Bindloss

  CHAPTER XXV

  A TRIAL OF SPEED

  Night was falling over the troubled water, and there were threats of atropical storm. The _Enchantress_, with her anchor down, rolled uneasilyon the broken swell. A sandy point ran out to windward, but the combersthat beat upon its seaward side with a thunderous roar swirled in awhite turmoil round its end and filled the lagoon with an angry heave.The palms on the landward shore bent in the wind and the dense greenjungle behind them rolled in tossing waves of green. To the north, thesky was barred by leaden clouds and the sea-tops cut against it, lividlywhite.

  A trail of smoke whirled about the funnel, now streaming out to lee, noweddying down, for a quantity of ammunition and contraband material hadjust been landed, and Grahame was ready to go to sea again. There wassome danger in remaining, but the weather was bad, and he half expectedfresh instructions from Don Martin.

  While he sat smoking in the lee of the deck-house and Walthew leanedagainst the rail, Macallister looked out of the engine-room door.

  "I can give ye steam enough to take her out at half an hour's notice,but if ye're no' likely to need it, I'll bank my fires," he said.

  "We won't heave anchor unless we're forced to; it's not an enticingnight," Grahame replied, and Walthew nodded, as in the pause thatfollowed he heard the rumble of the surf upon the shoals.

  "What do you reckon has been going on inland?" he asked. "The fellowswho took the guns ashore didn't seem to have much news, but theybelieved you were right in thinking this might be the last importantcargo we'd have to run."

  "The Government has arrested Castillo, and no doubt brought prettystrong pressure to bear on him. I'm afraid he couldn't stand up againstit, and has given his fellow conspirators away. The President seems nofool, and Gomez is a cunning rascal, but I'm not sure they could keeptheir plans dark because the opposition have their spies andsympathizers everywhere. The consequence is that both parties may bedriven into prompt action instead of quietly finishing theirpreparations."

  "I expect that's so," said Walthew thoughtfully. "I wish I knew, becauseI must see Don Martin and make a trip to Rio Frio before we leave thecoast for good."

  "You know best; but I imagine it means trouble with your people when yougo home."

  "It may, for a time," Walthew answered with a dogged look. "Still,they'll come round, and I'm glad to think that, considering this job asa business proposition, we have done pretty well. That will appeal tothe old man. Gun-running's not the line he wanted me to take, but he'llbe tickled when he sees that I've made good at it."

  "I wouldna' say but he might like Miss Sarmiento as weel as yin o' theyhussies at the Florida hotel," Macallister remarked encouragingly."There was yin in blue, but no' much o' it, with a flagpole in her hat,that gave me what I've heard ye call the googly eye----"

  Walthew chuckled.

  "That girl has roomsful of money."

  "Then she might hae bought some clothes," the Scotsman retorted.

  They were silent for a few minutes, and through the quietness they heardthe splash of canoe paddles.

  "We may get some news," Walthew said.

  The canoe ran alongside, and a half-breed handed up a dirty note.Grahame opened it, and his jaws set and a curious glint came into hiseyes when he read Evelyn's message.

  "Where did this come from?" he called sharply to the waiting half-breed.In his anxiety he had spoken in English.

  The messenger shook his head.

  "_No entiendo._"

  Grahame repeated the question in Spanish, and added: "Tell me quickly!"

  "A man brought it down from the hills a half-hour ago. That's all Iknow," the half-breed explained.

  "All right; you may go."

  Grahame turned to Walthew and Macallister and showed them the crumplednote.

  "I don't think our partnership agreement covers a risky privateundertaking of this kind, and you can turn me out, if you like, but I'mgoing," he said.

  "And I'm coming with you," Walthew replied cheerfully. "I've somebusiness of my own at Rio Frio."

  "You can't come! How is Mack to run the boat alone?"

  "Weel," said Macallister, "I'm thinking that's no' impossible. Onyway,ye'll take him. We'll quarrel about who's to command her if ye leave himon board."

  Grahame saw they were both determined; his comrades meant to stand byhim, if it cost them the vessel. He was touched, but there was no timeto indulge in sentiment.

  "We'll talk of it later. Start the windlass and stir the fires. I'llwant all the steam you can give me."

  "Ye'll get it," Macallister replied, and vanished below, while Grahamewent forward when the windlass began to clank and the cable tightened.

  Speed was urgently needed. It was several days since the note had beenwritten, and he dared not speculate about what might have happened inthe meanwhile. Evelyn was not easily frightened; she would not have sentfor him unless the danger was imminent. Then, the postscript stated thata guide would look out for him between midnight and three o'clock in themorning, at a place mentioned, and the _Enchantress_ must be driven hardto get there in time. If she arrived too late, he must steam out to seabefore dawn broke and wait for another night.

  The windlass rattled faster, the chain ran in as the anchor left theground, and, seeing Miguel ready with the tackle at the cathead, Grahamewent aft to the wheel. The gong clanged the signal "Full ahead," and thescrew began to throb. There was a crash forward as the swinging anchorstruck the bow, but Miguel had men enough to stow it, and Grahame fixedhis eyes ahead as he turned his wheel. Rolling across the broken swell,the _Enchantress_ stemmed the strong flood-tide; bending palms andshadowy beach were sliding past, and the turmoil on the shoals drewnearer. Ahead was a narrow channel with about a fathom of water to thegood, but the leading marks were obscured and Grahame doubted if hecould find it. If the boat struck, she would be washed up, badlydamaged, among the sands; but the tide was rising, and before longMacallister would have raised full steam. It was unthinkable that theyshould lose time, and Grahame meant to take his chance.

  Spray flew about her forward; as the swell got steeper she dipped to theknightheads, and Miguel, running aft, began to use the lead. Grahame didnot stop him, although sounding was a matter of form, because she woulddrive aground before he could bring her head round if he missed thenarrow deep.

  She crept past the point, rolling wildly and lifting out her screw,while the air got thick with spray and the thud of engines was drownedby the turmoil of the sea. Some distance off, white ridges leaped out ofthe gathering dark, but nearer at hand they were broken by the shoalsand raged in foaming confusion. The _Enchantress_ must cross this beltwithout much steam to help her, but it was obvious that Macallister washard at work below, for thick smoke with fiery sparks in it poured fromthe funnel.

  Miguel's white-clad figure, swaying in the channels, cut against thegloom, but Grahame could not hear his hail. Though he glanced at thecompass now and then, he was feeling his way rather by instinct thandefinite guidance, and so far the upward sweep of the bows showed therewas sufficient water under the vessel. Sometimes a sea came on board andpoured aft in a frothing flood, but she was steadily forging ahead, anda few minutes would take her across the worst of the shoals.

  Suddenly she stopped with a crash, lurched sideways, and lay still whilea foam-tipped mass of water rolled up ahead. It broke on board, buryingher forward half, and the next moment Grahame was wet to the waist; butshe lifted as the roller surged by; and then struck the shoal again. Afew more blows of that kind would crush in her bilge, but Grahame sethis teeth and clung grimly to his wheel. There was nothing to be donebut wait; the crash would warn Macallister what was required of him, andif he could not drive her off, they must cut the boats adrift and leaveher to her fate.

  Another sea came tumbling in, but while its crest broke across the railit picked her up and she moved on slowly with the water sluicing aftdown her inclined deck. For a few seconds Grahame held his breath,waiting for the shock; but she went on, and l
ifted her head buoyantly asthe next comber rolled up. When she had lurched over it and the sprayhad blown away, he saw that the sea was more regular and the worst ofthe turmoil lay astern. Five minutes afterward, she reeled out into openwater, and Macallister came on deck.

  "We've started the bilge-pump, but it's no' drawing much," he said. "Idinna think she's the waur for the knocks she got."

  "That's satisfactory. You know what you have to do."

  Macallister smiled with quiet enjoyment.

  "We've no' had the need to drive her yet, but noo I'll let ye see."

  He went below, and Grahame gave Miguel an order, for in swinging roundafter leaving the lagoon the _Enchantress_ had brought the wind on herquarter, and she carried a good spread of sail. He would not, however,luff her off her course to make the work easier; the crew must hoist thecanvas as best they could, and there was a furious banging and clatterof flying blocks as fore-staysail, foresail, and mainsail went up. Thenshe listed down with her rail in the white surges that boiled up to lee,while tall, hollow-fronted combers ranged up astern and sped after her.

  Wire shrouds, strung to the breaking-point, shrieked in wild harmoniesas the blasts struck them; chain funnel-guys roared in deeper tones, andthere was a confused groaning of masts and booms. Spray swept her,lashing Grahame's back and blowing past his head in clouds, and now andthen a sea-top broke on board; but she drove on furiously before thewind.

  After a while Grahame called Miguel to the helm and stood in the lee ofthe deckhouse, pipe in mouth, for he had now time to think. He couldmake no plans until he landed, but it was plain that he must go to RioFrio; and, if possible, he must leave Walthew behind. He could not allowthe lad to run the risk, and Macallister would need him. Some help mightbe had from the revolutionaries, and he must try to find Don Martin. Ifhe failed to do so, much would have to be left to chance.

  Grahame looked at another side of the matter. Suppose he rescued MissCliffe, what then? Though the gun-running had been profitable, he was anadventurer with very limited means. He could not trade upon Cliffe'sgratitude, though he loved the girl. He did not know when he began tolove her, but he had for some time made stern efforts to drive thethought of her out of his mind. Perhaps he might have succeeded hadnothing unusual happened, for he knew his disadvantages; but now hisdetermination suddenly had been swept away. Evelyn was in danger;somehow this made clear the strength of the feelings with which he hadgrappled. The future was clouded; there were difficulties to be faced;but he felt that if she had any love for him he could not give her up.

  The gale freshened; but Grahame would not shorten sail. There was notmuch time to spare, and the gear was standing well. He could trust thehelm to Miguel and might have slept, but, although he imagined hisstrength might be severely taxed during the next few days, it wasimpossible for him to rest. In spite of his anxiety, he was sensible ofan exultant excitement. The girl he loved was in danger, but she hadsent for him. Then, the adventure he was embarking on had a fascinationof its own, and he smiled as he remembered that his ancestors had oftenin past days ridden across the dark marches, leading the Border Spears.It was not for nothing the hot blood of the old mosstroopers ran in hisveins.

  Swept by the seas on her quarter, the _Enchantress_ drove on, andGrahame lurched about the slanted deck and stood amidst the spray thatwhirled across her stern. She was going fast; his glances at therecording log astonished him, for he had not believed her capable ofthe speed it showed. His fierce impatience seemed to have inspiredthudding engines and quivering hull, and he thrilled when a great,white-topped comber rolled up and swept her on. Flame blew from thefunnel, wet canvas, straining in black curves, reeled through the dark,and the sea sped back, snowy white, toward the plunging bows.

  At last, however, lights shone in the gloom, and Grahame ordered thecanvas to be lowered. It cost the crew an arduous struggle, but theymade all fast, and Grahame, ringing for half-speed, took the wheel.There was a point a short distance from the town that would break thesea, and by steaming in behind it he might get a boat away. Landingwould be difficult, and it was important that he should find the rightspot.

  He watched the beach with his glasses as the _Enchantress_ swunginshore, and when presently the combers changed to a steep, troubledswell that ended in a white band of surf, he stopped the engines andtold Miguel to hoist out the gig. The navigation lights had beenextinguished, but he thought that anybody carefully watching for thesteamer could see her. The men had some trouble in lowering the boat,but as soon as she was in the water Grahame jumped on board and told themen to push off. Then, as they got out their oars, a dark figure leapedfrom the steamer's rail and Walthew, alighting in the sternsheets,turned to his comrade with a grin.

  "I'm here, and you'll smash the boat if you try to send me back," hesaid. "You see, I suspected what you were getting after when you put meat a job it was awkward to leave."

  "Well, I did my best, anyway," Grahame laughed.

  Walthew took an oar, for the swell was high enough to make progressdifficult, but they found smoother water near the land, and stoppedpulling just outside the fringe of surf. Waiting for a slacker intervalin the shoreward rush of hissing rollers, they drove her in as fast asshe could go, and jumped overboard when she touched the sand. A wavebroke into her, but they ran her up safely, and Grahame turned toWalthew after they had emptied the water out.

  "I don't think I'm straining my authority by telling you to go off withMiguel," he said.

  "Anyhow, I'm not going," Walthew replied doggedly. "Our association is apartnership, and I mean to come along. I don't know that I'll be of muchhelp to you, but the job you've undertaken is too big for one."

  Grahame saw that objections would be useless, and, feeling that hispistol was loose, he walked up the beach, with Walthew following a fewyards behind.