Plain Mary Smith: A Romance of Red Saunders

by Henry Wallace Phillips

  VII

  "SAVE ME, ARTHUR!"

  The first part of the _Matilda's_ trip slid by, day after day, like ahappy dream. We had weather that couldn't be bettered; days of sunlightand pretty sailing breezes; nights picked out of heaven. The moon was inher glory. I like high land better than I do the ocean, but few sightscan beat a full moon swelling over the glitter of water. There's also asnugness, a cozy, contented feeling, aboard a small boat, that you can'tget elsewhere, except in a prairie camp. I suppose it's the contrastbetween so much space of sky and land or water, where people are not,and the little spot where they are, that makes your partners rise invalue.

  Of course, the fact that it was my first cutaway puts a gilt edge on allthat time, yet one other thing, a new thing, that made all my lifedifferent for me, must get its credit. That was music,--good music. Backhome they weren't much in the musical line. I think I can remember whenmother used to play the piano some, but her life soon jarred all thatout of her. Bar here and there a man with a mouth-organ or a concertina,and a fiddler to do dance-tunes, the only thing that stood for music tome was the singing in father's church. I have since thought that anybodywho could stand that once a week was certainly a good Christian. Iremember one Sunday the preacher told us about heaven, and how it was asteady line of harps and hymn-tunes. I put in the rest of that Sundaybewildered. I didn't want to go to hell, and after that description ofheaven I wasn't anxious to go there, neither. Looked like the hereafterwas dark and uncertain.

  But when I first heard Saxton, with his fiddle; Barbado Joe, the niggercook, with the guitar; and Mary singing, my soul just laid on its backand purred. I was standing at the rail, thinking, kind of mistykid-fashion, one moonlit night, when there came a ripple of little notesfrom the guitar, with three wind-up chords like spring water in thedesert. Then old Sax's fiddle 'way, 'way up; so light, so delicate, sosweet and pretty that shivers ran down my back. I stiffened like apointer-pup first smelling game. "Here's something," I thought,"something that's me, all right, but I don't understand yet." And then,Mary's voice rose gorgeous out of the bigness of sky and moonlight andwater; it filled the whole empty world, without an effort. Me and themoon and the waves stopped dead and listened. Even the _Matilda_ trodthe water gently.

  I turned and looked at Mary. There's no way for me to tell you what apicture she made. If I say she was beautiful, you'll think of some womanyou know, and that's wrong, for there never was another like Mary. Shewas always beautiful, but never else had quite the touch as when lost inher singing. Man, she was Paradise itself, and when she opened her lipsand sang, you entered the gates thereof.

  Of course, everybody's heard good singing, the same as everybody's seenhandsome faces, but once in a while you strike a face or a voice that'sbeyond all guessing. You'd never believed it, if you hadn't seen orheard it.

  She sang as easily as you think,--opened her lips and it rolled out.And, in spite of power that could ring the air for miles and never seemloud, a deep something trembled underneath that was the very soul ofpity and womankindness, and another little something floated high andjoyful above it like the laugh of a child. Yes, sir. That voice wasfood, drink, and clean blankets. When she stopped, I thought I neverwanted to hear a sound again. But I didn't know the limit of old Sax.With her voice quivering in his heart, he grabbed up his wooden box andmade a miracle. Sure, it was different; but just as sure he tore a holein you. His eyes were on Mary, backing the story the violin was telling.She was giving way, too. Her eyes would meet his, as if she couldn'thelp herself. He'd promised not to speak, but that didn't stop the oldfiddle from making out the prettiest kind of case.

  "He grabbed up his wooden box and made a miracle"]

  She sat with her chin in her hand, breathing deep. The violin would givea tug at her, and, as I say, her eyes would turn to Sax, and then she'dforce them away again, over the water, slowly down to the deck oncemore. She was frightened. I don't blame her, for Sax was out of himself.He towered there in the moonlight making those inhumanly beautifulsounds, his face burning white and his eyes burning black, fire cleanthrough, fire in every soople muscle, fire pulsing out of every heave ofhis shoulders, one handsome and scary figure. There was something soout-and-out wild in him, I swear he looked as if he could call up devilsfrom the sea.

  Well, when a man does get beyond the ordinary he scares the rest of thetribe. If two fellows start to fight, the bystanders will try toseparate them. It's kind of instinct--I've done it many a time myself,when it would have been better to let the boys whack 'emselvesgood-natured instead of keeping the grudge sour on their stomachs.Anyway, I can't blame Mary for feeling leery of Sax when I confess thathe put creeps in my spine. He seemed to grow till he filled the bow ofthe boat; the fiddle sung in my ears till I couldn't think straight;heavy medicine in it, you bet. Mary got whiter and whiter. I saw herconstantly wetting her lips, and her hand went to her heart. The wholenight was changed. The air was full of war and uneasiness. I wish toHeaven I knew how it might have ended, if nothing interrupted, becauseSaxton was doing magic. It was the queerest feeling I ever had. WhatMary's feelings were I'd give something to know, but just when thingswere the tightest old Jesse come up and pulled my sleeve.

  "Get the girl below quiet," he says. "Hell will be loose in a minute."

  I stared at him. Coming on top of my queer sensations, it gummed myworks. Jesse pointed to the sou'east.

  A cloud was flying north, the center of it black, but wisps andstreamers flew out white in the moonlight like steam from an explosion.To the north of it lay another storm, huge and heavy, black as death,except where lightning sprayed through it.

  "Wind, Jesse?" I says.

  "The last time I see a thing like that, boy," he says, "I made landthree days later, aboard a hencoop--the only one of a hull ship'scompany. Get that girl below."

  I thought quick, as he walked away. The fiddle had stopped. A wickedsilence lay on everything. Old man Fear put his cold feet on me. Ilooked again at the mass to s'utherd. It boiled and turned and twisted.Big gusts of black and white shot crazily out to nowhere--she wasclimbing! Then I looked at the group. Mary sat white and still. Saxstood behind her, his fiddle by his side, holding the bow like a sword.He was white and still, too, and looking up to where the moon was goingout. Their backs were turned to the devilry that threatened us.

  I stepped forward,--easy as possible, and spoke to her.

  "You're not looking well, Mary," I said. "Hadn't you better go down?"

  That was before my poker days. Playing a four-flush gives a man controlof his face and voice. She heard what I wanted to hide at once, beingnaturally sharp as a needle and tuned high that night.

  "What's the matter?" says she.

  "Matter?" says I, laughing gaily. "Why, I don't want to see yousick--come along like a good girl."

  "Tell me why I should, and I will," she says. Well, what was the use?Hadn't she the right to know? When old Jesse said trouble was turningthe corner, you could expect the knock on the door. He had thereputation of being the most fearless as well as the most carefulskipper in the coast trade. He never took a chance, if there was nothingin it, and he'd take 'em all, if there was.

  Sax bent to us. "What's up?" says he. I didn't say a word--pointedbehind him. He looked for a full five seconds.

  "Tornado, by God!" he says in a sort of savage whisper.

  He took the violin and bow in those thin strong hands of his andcrumpled 'em up, and threw the pieces overboard. I'll swear he felt whatI did--that he _had_ called up a devil from the sea.

  Then he put a hand on Mary's shoulder. "Go below, sweetheart," he said.

  "But you'll call me--you'll let me--" she says, an agony in her eyes.

  "You ought to know that I will be with you, if there's no need of mehere," he said. We stood stock-still for a minute. It had come with sucha stunning bang.

  "There is great danger, Mary," said Saxton. "But you'll be brave, mydear?"

  "I will, Arthur," she answered. Then her eyes filled wi
th panic and shecaught him around the neck. "Save me, Arthur! Save me!" she cried. "Oh,I don't want to die!"

  Never in his life had Arthur Saxton stood up more of a man andgentleman. He put his hand on her head and looked courage into her. "Nordo I want to die while there's a chance of you," he said. "Now you'llbelieve and trust me, and go with Will?"

  I think he kissed her--I don't remember. That hell aloft was sudsingfast to us, and I was dancing inside to do something beside wait for adrowning. Anyhow, old Jesse's voice ripped out ferocious; there was arattle of blocks, and I put Mary below at the bottom of the step, pickedup a lantern for her, told her we'd watch out more for her than we wouldfor ourselves, and seeing how utterly God-forsaken the poor girl looked,I kissed her, too.

  "Don't leave me, Will! Oh, don't!" she cried; "I can't stand it!"

  "I must," I pleaded. "Mary, think! I may be some use."

  She gripped herself. "That is so. Go, Will."

  It hurt to go. The lantern made a dim light in which her face halfshowed. The shadows shifted black, here and there. From above came agrinding, shattering sort of roar, like a train crossing a bridge. Itwas horrible to leave a woman alone to face it. But then came a scurryand trampling of feet on deck; yells and orders. That was my place.

  "Good-by! God save you!" I said, caught her hand for a good-by, andjumped up the stair.

  I was just in time. They slammed the hatch down almost on my heels.

  "Mary's there!" I screamed in Jesse's ear.

  "It's her only chance!" he roared back.

  On deck that machinery roar drowned everything. It rattled the bones inyour body. The deck sung to it. You felt the humming on your feet. Itdumbed and tortured you at the same time, like a fever-dream. Youcouldn't think for it, and your temper was spoiled entirely.

  Lightning! My God! It was zippitty-flash-flash-flash, so fast andfearful that the whole world jumped out into broad day and back ahundred times a minute. Heaven send I'll never see another such sight asthe sea those flashes showed. Under the spout it was as if somebody hadrun a club into a snake-hole. You got it, to the least crinkle, in thelightning blasts. There were walls of water like Niagara Falls, jumbledup, falling, smashing together. If it hit us square we'd vanish.

  Saxton stood near me. He passed me a rope and signed for me to makemyself fast. I couldn't do it. I must be free. I thought of Mary, below,and shook. What must she feel? We couldn't get down to her now, and thatmade me sick. Saxton fastened the rope around me. He put his mouth to myear and shouted, "You never could hold without it!"

  I let him do what he liked. All desire to do anything myself, one way orthe other, was rattled out of me.

  "How is she?" he shrieked again. I could just hear him at a one-inchrange.

  "All right,"! said.

  "Make a little prayer to Himmel," he says, "for here it comes!"

  Here it come. Something that looked like the Atlantic up-ended loomedover the bows. The wind struck me flat on my back, in one grand crash ofsnapping wood, roaring water, thunder, and the fall of the pillars ofthe world. The ocean swept over me, yet I rose high in the air. I feltthat the _Matilda_ was turning a back somersault. The rope nearly cut mein half. Just when my lungs were pumping so I couldn't hold my breath aheart-beat longer, the wind suddenly cut over my face. Man! It hit likea fire-engine stream! I turned and swallowed some of it before we wentdown into the deep again. After that, it was plain disorderly conduct.Part of the time I was playing at home, a little boy again, and part ofthe time I was having a hard time trying to sleep in strange lands. Butthe next thing I can swear to is that the moon was shining, and the_Matilda_ jumping like a horse. In spite of the aches and pains all overme, I just lay still for a minute and let it soak in that I was still onboard this pretty good old world. Next, I thought of Mary and the restof them and scrambled to my feet. I was dizzy--a three-inch cut acrossthe top of my head gave reason enough for that, let alone the rest ofthe racket--and one eye was swelled shut. Otherwise, barring a sprainedarm, a raw circle around me where the rope cut, a black-and-blue spotthe size of a ham on my right leg, and all the skin off my knuckles, Iwas the same person.

  Saxton got himself up. We stared at each other.

  "Hello!" says he.

  "Hello!" says I.

  "Well, what the devil are you doing alive?" he says. He meant it, too.It seemed to astonish him greatly. This made me mad.

  "Well, I guess I have a right to," I says. At this we both laughed veryhard. So hard I couldn't stop, till he grabbed me by the arm.

  "Mary!" he says.

  We both tried to cast our moorings. The knots were jammed beyond fingersand teeth. He took out a knife and we cut loose. On the way to the hatchwe come across Jesse sitting up straight, staring out to sea. He put hishand to his head and put it down again, looking at his fingers. What hefound so interesting in the fingers I don't know, but he couldn't takehis eyes off of them.

  "Hurt, Jesse?" we asked him.

  He turned a face like a child's to us. "My," he says, "wasn't it wet!"

  "Come on!" says Sax; "he's all right!"

  We pulled the scuttle off by main strength.

  "Mary!" we called. "Mary!"

  "Yes!" she answered. The relief was so sweet my knees weakened. She cameto the stair and looked up. Durned if the old lantern wasn't burning.That knocked me. I remembered lighting that lantern several hundredyears ago, and here it was, still burning!

  "Are you hurt?" said Saxton.

  "Not--no, not much," she answered. "But nearly dead from fright--is itover?"

  "All over, thank God!" says Sax. "We only caught the edge of it, or--The moon is shining now. There's a heavy sea still, but that's harmlessif the boat isn't strained--do you want us to stay with you?"

  She looked up and laughed--a great deal nearer being sensible thaneither Sax or me.

  "If I could stand the other, I can stand this alone--where's yourpromise, Arthur? You never came near me."

  He took this very seriously. "Why, Mary," he began, "do you think Iwould have left you if I could have helped it! They closed the hatch--"

  "Come along," I said. "She's joking."

  He turned and looked at me. "_Is_ she?" he asked, as earnest as if hislife hung on it. Not the least strange memory of that night is whenArthur Saxton turned and said, "Is she?"

  "Sure!" I replied. "Come--some of the boys may be badly hurt."

  We pulled through that uproar surprisingly good. Of course, everyman-jack of us had lumps and welts and cuts, and there were some bonesbroken. Saxton was slapped down with such force that the flat of hishand was one big blister where it hit the deck, and the whole line ofhis forearm was a bruise--but that saved his face. One passenger drew abad ankle, jammed in the wreckage. The worst hurt was Jimmy Hixley, asailor; a block hit him in the ribs--probably when the mainmastwent--and caved him for six inches.

  The actual twister had only hit one third of us, from where the mainmaststood, aft. That stick was pulled out by the roots--clean. Standingrigging and all. Good new stuff at that. Some of the stays came out atthe eyes and some of 'em snapped. One sailor picked a nasty hurt out ofit. The stays were steel cable, and when one parted it curled backquick, the sharp ends of the broken wires clawing his leg.

  Nobody knows the force of the wind in that part of the boat. Had therebeen a man there, no rope could hold him from being blown overboard;but, luckily, we were all forward.

  The rails were cut clean as an ax stroke. Nothing was left but thewheel, and the deck was lifted in places as if there'd been an explosionbelow.

  However, we weren't in the humor to kick over trifles. We shook handsall around and took a man's-sized swig of whisky apiece, then started toput things shipshape.

  Jesse had an extra spar and a bit of sail that we rigged as a jigger,and though the _Matilda_ didn't foot it as pretty as before, we had afair wind nearly all the rest of the trip, making Panama in two weeks,without another accident.