Chapter 11. DAVID AND GOLIATH
Huish had bundled himself up from the glare of the day--his face to thehouse, his knees retracted. The frail bones in the thin tropical raimentseemed scarce more considerable than a fowl's; and Davis, sitting on therail with his arm about a stay, contemplated him with gloom, wonderingwhat manner of counsel that insignificant figure should contain. Forsince Herrick had thrown him off and deserted to the enemy, Huish, aloneof mankind, remained to him to be a helper and oracle.
He considered their position with a sinking heart. The ship was a stolenship; the stores, either from initial carelessness or ill administrationduring the voyage, were insufficient to carry them to any port exceptback to Papeete; and there retribution waited in the shape of agendarme, a judge with a queer-shaped hat, and the horror of distantNoumea. Upon that side, there was no glimmer of hope. Here, at theisland, the dragon was roused; Attwater with his men and his Winchesterswatched and patrolled the house; let him who dare approach it. What elsewas then left but to sit there, inactive, pacing the decks--until theTrinity Hall arrived and they were cast into irons, or until the foodcame to an end, and the pangs of famine succeeded? For the TrinityHall Davis was prepared; he would barricade the house, and die theredefending it, like a rat in a crevice. But for the other? The cruise ofthe Farallone, into which he had plunged only a fortnight before, withsuch golden expectations, could this be the nightmare end of it? Theship rotting at anchor, the crew stumbling and dying in the scuppers? Itseemed as if any extreme of hazard were to be preferred to so grisly acertainty; as if it would be better to up-anchor after all, put to seaat a venture, and, perhaps, perish at the hands of cannibals on one ofthe more obscure Paumotus. His eye roved swiftly over sea and sky inquest of any promise of wind, but the fountains of the Trade were empty.Where it had run yesterday and for weeks before, a roaring blue rivercharioting clouds, silence now reigned; and the whole height ofthe atmosphere stood balanced. On the endless ribbon of island thatstretched out to either hand of him its array of golden and green andsilvery palms, not the most volatile frond was to be seen stirring;they drooped to their stable images in the lagoon like things carved ofmetal, and already their long line began to reverberate heat. There wasno escape possible that day, none probable on the morrow. And still thestores were running out!
Then came over Davis, from deep down in the roots of his being, or atleast from far back among his memories of childhood and innocence, awave of superstition. This run of ill luck was something beyond natural;the chances of the game were in themselves more various; it seemed asif the devil must serve the pieces. The devil? He heard again the clearnote of Attwater's bell ringing abroad into the night, and dying away.How if God...?
Briskly, he averted his mind. Attwater: that was the point. Attwaterhad food and a treasure of pearls; escape made possible in the present,riches in the future. They must come to grips, with Attwater; the manmust die. A smoky heat went over his face, as he recalled the impotentfigure he had made last night and the contemptuous speeches he must bearin silence. Rage, shame, and the love of life, all pointed the one way;and only invention halted: how to reach him? had he strength enough? wasthere any help in that misbegotten packet of bones against the house?
His eyes dwelled upon him with a strange avidity, as though he wouldread into his soul; and presently the sleeper moved, stirred uneasily,turned suddenly round, and threw him a blinking look. Davis maintainedthe same dark stare, and Huish looked away again and sat up.
'Lord, I've an 'eadache on me!' said he. 'I believe I was a bit swipeylast night. W'ere's that cry-byby 'Errick?'
'Gone,' said the captain.
'Ashore?' cried Huish. 'Oh, I say! I'd 'a gone too.'
'Would you?' said the captain.
'Yes, I would,' replied Huish. 'I like Attwater. 'E's all right; wegot on like one o'clock when you were gone. And ain't his sherry in it,rather? It's like Spiers and Ponds' Amontillado! I wish I 'ad a drain ofit now.' He sighed.
'Well, you'll never get no more of it--that's one thing,' said Davis,gravely.
''Ere! wot's wrong with you, Dyvis? Coppers 'ot? Well, look at me! Iain't grumpy,' said Huish; 'I'm as plyful as a canary-bird, I am.'
'Yes,' said Davis, 'you're playful; I own that; and you were playfullast night, I believe, and a damned fine performance you made of it.'
''Allo!' said Huish. ''Ow's this? Wot performance?'
'Well, I'll tell you,' said the captain, getting slowly off the rail.
And he did: at full length, with every wounding epithet and absurddetail repeated and emphasised; he had his own vanity and Huish's uponthe grill, and roasted them; and as he spoke, he inflicted and enduredagonies of humiliation. It was a plain man's masterpiece of thesardonic.
'What do you think of it?' said he, when he had done, and looked down atHuish, flushed and serious, and yet jeering.
'I'll tell you wot it is,' was the reply, 'you and me cut a pretty dickyfigure.'
'That's so,' said Davis, 'a pretty measly figure, by God! And, by God, Iwant to see that man at my knees.'
'Ah!' said Huish. ''Ow to get him there?'
'That's it!' cried Davis. 'How to get hold of him! They're four to two;though there's only one man among them to count, and that's Attwater.Get a bead on Attwater, and the others would cut and run and sing outlike frightened poultry--and old man Herrick would come round withhis hat for a share of the pearls. No, SIR! it's how to get hold ofAttwater! And we daren't even go ashore; he would shoot us in the boatlike dogs.'
'Are you particular about having him dead or alive?' asked Huish.
'I want to see him dead,' said the captain.
'Ah, well!' said Huish, 'then I believe I'll do a bit of breakfast.'
And he turned into the house.
The captain doggedly followed him.
'What's this?' he asked. 'What's your idea, anyway?'
'Oh, you let me alone, will you?' said Huish, opening a bottle ofchampagne. 'You'll 'ear my idea soon enough. Wyte till I pour somechain on my 'ot coppers.' He drank a glass off, and affected to listen.''Ark!' said he, ''ear it fizz. Like 'am fryin', I declyre. 'Ave aglass, do, and look sociable.'
'No!' said the captain, with emphasis; 'no, I will not! there'sbusiness.'
'You p'ys your money and you tykes your choice, my little man,' returnedHuish. 'Seems rather a shyme to me to spoil your breakfast for wot'sreally ancient 'istory.'
He finished three parts of a bottle of champagne, and nibbled a cornerof biscuit, with extreme deliberation; the captain sitting opposite andchamping the bit like an impatient horse. Then Huish leaned his arms onthe table and looked Davis in the face.
'W'en you're ready!' said he.
'Well, now, what's your idea?' said Davis, with a sigh.
'Fair play!' said Huish. 'What's yours?'
'The trouble is that I've got none,' replied Davis; and wandered forsome time in aimless discussion of the difficulties in their path, anduseless explanations of his own fiasco.
'About done?' said Huish.
'I'll dry up right here,' replied Davis.
'Well, then,' said Huish, 'you give me your 'and across the table, andsay, "Gawd strike me dead if I don't back you up."'
His voice was hardly raised, yet it thrilled the hearer. His face seemedthe epitome of cunning, and the captain recoiled from it as from a blow.
'What for?' said he.
'Luck,' said Huish. 'Substantial guarantee demanded.'
And he continued to hold out his hand.
'I don't see the good of any such tomfoolery,' said the other.
'I do, though,' returned Huish. 'Gimme your 'and and say the words; thenyou'll 'ear my view of it. Don't, and you won't.'
The captain went through the required form, breathing short, and gazingon the clerk with anguish. What to fear, he knew not; yet he fearedslavishly what was to fall from the pale lips.
'Now, if you'll excuse me 'alf a second,' said Huish, 'I'll go and fetchthe byby.'
'The baby?'
said Davis. 'What's that?'
'Fragile. With care. This side up,' replied the clerk with a wink, as hedisappeared.
He returned, smiling to himself, and carrying in his hand a silkhandkerchief. The long stupid wrinkles ran up Davis's brow, as he sawit. What should it contain? He could think of nothing more reconditethan a revolver.
Huish resumed his seat.
'Now,' said he, 'are you man enough to take charge of 'Errick and theniggers? Because I'll take care of Hattwater.'
'How?' cried Davis. 'You can't!'
'Tut, tut!' said the clerk. 'You gimme time. Wot's the first point? Thefirst point is that we can't get ashore, and I'll make you a present ofthat for a 'ard one. But 'ow about a flag of truce? Would that do thetrick, d'ye think? or would Attwater simply blyze aw'y at us in thebloomin' boat like dawgs?'
'No,' said Davis, 'I don't believe he would.'
'No more do I,' said Huish; 'I don't believe he would either; and I'msure I 'ope he won't! So then you can call us ashore. Next point isto get near the managin' direction. And for that I'm going to 'ave youwrite a letter, in w'ich you s'y you're ashamed to meet his eye, andthat the bearer, Mr J. L. 'Uish, is empowered to represent you. Armedwith w'ich seemin'ly simple expedient, Mr J. L. 'Uish will proceed tobusiness.'
He paused, like one who had finished, but still held Davis with his eye.
'How?' said Davis. 'Why?'
'Well, you see, you're big,' returned Huish; ''e knows you 'ave a gun inyour pocket, and anybody can see with 'alf an eye that you ain't theman to 'esitate about usin' it. So it's no go with you, and never was;you're out of the runnin', Dyvis. But he won't be afryde of me, I'm sucha little un! I'm unarmed--no kid about that--and I'll hold my 'ands upright enough.' He paused. 'If I can manage to sneak up nearer to him aswe talk,' he resumed, 'you look out and back me up smart. If I don't, wego aw'y again, and nothink to 'urt. See?'
The captain's face was contorted by the frenzied effort to comprehend.
'No, I don't see,' he cried, 'I can't see. What do you mean?'
'I mean to do for the Beast!' cried Huish, in a burst of venomoustriumph. 'I'll bring the 'ulkin' bully to grass. He's 'ad his larks outof me; I'm goin' to 'ave my lark out of 'im, and a good lark too!'
'What is it?' said the captain, almost in a whisper.
'Sure you want to know?' asked Huish.
Davis rose and took a turn in the house.
'Yes, I want to know,' he said at last with an effort.
'We'n you're back's at the wall, you do the best you can, don't you?'began the clerk. 'I s'y that, because I 'appen to know there's aprejudice against it; it's considered vulgar, awf'ly vulgar.' Heunrolled the handkerchief and showed a four-ounce jar. 'This 'ere'svitriol, this is,' said he.
The captain stared upon him with a whitening face.
'This is the stuff!' he pursued, holding it up. 'This'll burn to thebone; you'll see it smoke upon 'im like 'ell fire! One drop upon 'isbloomin' heyesight, and I'll trouble you for Attwater!'
'No, no, by God!' exclaimed the captain.
'Now, see 'ere, ducky,' said Huish, 'this is my bean feast, I believe?I'm goin' up to that man single-'anded, I am. 'E's about seven foothigh, and I'm five foot one. 'E's a rifle in his 'and, 'e's on thelook-out, 'e wasn't born yesterday. This is Dyvid and Goliar, I tellyou! If I'd ast you to walk up and face the music I could understand.But I don't. I on'y ast you to stand by and spifflicate the niggers.It'll all come in quite natural; you'll see, else! Fust thing, you know,you'll see him running round and owling like a good un...'
'Don't!' said Davis. 'Don't talk of it!'
'Well, you ARE a juggins!' exclaimed Huish. 'What did you want? Youwanted to kill him, and tried to last night. You wanted to kill the 'olelot of them and tried to, and 'ere I show you 'ow; and because there'ssome medicine in a bottle you kick up this fuss!'
'I suppose that's so,' said Davis. 'It don't seem someways reasonable,only there it is.'
'It's the happlication of science, I suppose?' sneered Huish.
'I don't know what it is,' cried Davis, pacing the floor; 'it's there!I draw the line at it. I can't put a finger to no such piggishness. It'stoo damned hateful!'
'And I suppose it's all your fancy pynted it,' said Huish, 'w'en youtake a pistol and a bit o' lead, and copse a man's brains all over him?No accountin' for tystes.'
'I'm not denying it,' said Davis, 'It's something here, inside of me.It's foolishness; I dare say it's dam foolishness. I don't argue, I justdraw the line. Isn't there no other way?'
'Look for yourself,' said Huish. 'I ain't wedded to this, if you think Iam; I ain't ambitious; I don't make a point of playin' the lead; I offerto, that's all, and if you can't show me better, by Gawd, I'm goin' to!'
'Then the risk!' cried Davis.
'If you ast me straight, I should say it was a case of seven to one andno takers,' said Huish. 'But that's my look-out, ducky, and I'm gyme,that's wot I am: gyme all through.'
The captain looked at him. Huish sat there, preening his sinistervanity, glorying in his precedency in evil; and the villainous courageand readiness of the creature shone out of him like a candle from alantern. Dismay and a kind of respect seized hold on Davis in his owndespite. Until that moment, he had seen the clerk always hangingback, always listless, uninterested, and openly grumbling at a word ofanything to do; and now, by the touch of an enchanter's wand, he beheldhim sitting girt and resolved, and his face radiant. He had raised thedevil, he thought; and asked who was to control him? and his spiritsquailed.
'Look as long as you like,' Huish was going on. 'You don't see any greenin my eye! I ain't afryde of Attwater, I ain't afryde of you, and Iain't afryde of words. You want to kill people, that's wot YOU want; butyou want to do it in kid gloves, and it can't be done that w'y. Murderain't genteel, it ain't easy, it ain't safe, and it tykes a man to doit. 'Ere's the man.'
'Huish!' began the captain with energy; and then stopped, and remainedstaring at him with corrugated brows.
'Well, hout with it!' said Huish. ''Ave you anythink else to put up? Isthere any other chanst to try?'
The captain held his peace.
'There you are then!' said Huish with a shrug.
Davis fell again to his pacing.
'Oh, you may do sentry-go till you're blue in the mug, you won't findanythink else,' said Huish.
There was a little silence; the captain, like a man launched on a swing,flying dizzily among extremes of conjecture and refusal.
'But see,' he said, suddenly pausing. 'Can you? Can the thing be done?It--it can't be easy.'
'If I get within twenty foot of 'im it'll be done; so you look out,'said Huish, and his tone of certainty was absolute.
'How can you know that?' broke from the captain in a choked cry. 'Youbeast, I believe you've done it before!'
'Oh, that's private affyres,' returned Huish, 'I ain't a talking man.'
A shock of repulsion struck and shook the captain; a scream rose almostto his lips; had he uttered it, he might have cast himself at the samemoment on the body of Huish, might have picked him up, and flung himdown, and wiped the cabin with him, in a frenzy of cruelty that seemedhalf moral. But the moment passed; and the abortive crisis left the manweaker. The stakes were so high--the pearls on the one hand--starvationand shame on the other. Ten years of pearls! The imagination of Davistranslated them into a new, glorified existence for himself and hisfamily. The seat of this new life must be in London; there were deadlyreasons against Portland, Maine; and the pictures that came to him wereof English manners. He saw his boys marching in the procession of aschool, with gowns on, an usher marshalling them and reading as hewalked in a great book. He was installed in a villa, semi-detached;the name, Rosemore, on the gateposts. In a chair on the gravel walk, heseemed to sit smoking a cigar, a blue ribbon in his buttonhole, victorover himself and circumstances, and the malignity of bankers. He saw theparlour with red curtains and shells on the mantelpiece--and with thefine inconsistency of visions, mixed a grog at the mahoga
ny table ere heturned in. With that the Farallone gave one of the aimless and namelessmovements which (even in an anchored ship and even in the most profoundcalm) remind one of the mobility of fluids; and he was back again underthe cover of the house, the fierce daylight besieging it all round andglaring in the chinks, and the clerk in a rather airy attitude, awaitinghis decision.
He began to walk again. He aspired after the realisation of thesedreams, like a horse nickering for water; the lust of them burned in hisinside. And the only obstacle was Attwater, who had insulted him fromthe first. He gave Herrick a full share of the pearls, he insisted onit; Huish opposed him, and he trod the opposition down; and praisedhimself exceedingly. He was not going to use vitriol himself; was heHuish's keeper? It was a pity he had asked, but after all!... he saw theboys again in the school procession, with the gowns he had thought to beso 'tony' long since... And at the same time the incomparable shame ofthe last evening blazed up in his mind.
'Have it your own way!' he said hoarsely.
'Oh, I knew you would walk up,' said Huish. 'Now for the letter. There'spaper, pens and ink. Sit down and I'll dictyte.'
The captain took a seat and the pen, looked a while helplessly at thepaper, then at Huish. The swing had gone the other way; there was a blurupon his eyes. 'It's a dreadful business,' he said, with a strong twitchof his shoulders.
'It's rather a start, no doubt,' said Huish. 'Tyke a dip of ink. That'sit. William John Hattwater, Esq., Sir': he dictated.
'How do you know his name is William John?' asked Davis.
'Saw it on a packing case,' said Huish. 'Got that?'
'No,' said Davis. 'But there's another thing. What are we to write?'
'O my golly!' cried the exasperated Huish. 'Wot kind of man do YOU callyourself? I'M goin' to tell you wot to write; that's my pitch; if you'lljust be so bloomin' condescendin' as to write it down! WILLIAM JOHNATTWATER, ESQ., SIR': he reiterated. And the captain at last beginninghalf mechanically to move his pen, the dictation proceeded:
It is with feelings of shyme and 'artfelt contrition that I approach youafter the yumiliatin' events of last night. Our Mr 'Errick has leftthe ship, and will have doubtless communicated to you the nature of our'opes. Needless to s'y, these are no longer possible: Fate 'as declyredagainst us, and we bow the 'ead. Well awyre as I am of the justsuspicions with w'ich I am regarded, I do not venture to solicit thefyvour of an interview for myself, but in order to put an end to asituytion w'ich must be equally pyneful to all, I 'ave deputed my friendand partner, Mr J. L. Huish, to l'y before you my proposals, and w'ichby their moderytion, Will, I trust, be found to merit your attention.Mr J. L. Huish is entirely unarmed, I swear to Gawd! and will 'old 'is'ands over 'is 'ead from the moment he begins to approach you. I am yourfytheful servant, John Davis.
Huish read the letter with the innocent joy of amateurs, chuckledgustfully to himself, and reopened it more than once after it wasfolded, to repeat the pleasure; Davis meanwhile sitting inert andheavily frowning.
Of a sudden he rose; he seemed all abroad. 'No!' he cried. 'No! it can'tbe! It's too much; it's damnation. God would never forgive it.'
'Well, and 'oo wants Him to?' returned Huish, shrill with fury. 'Youwere damned years ago for the Sea Rynger, and said so yourself. Wellthen, be damned for something else, and 'old your tongue.'
The captain looked at him mistily. 'No,' he pleaded, 'no, old man! don'tdo it.'
''Ere now,' said Huish, 'I'll give you my ultimytum. Go or st'y w'ere youare; I don't mind; I'm goin' to see that man and chuck this vitriol inhis eyes. If you st'y I'll go alone; the niggers will likely knock meon the 'ead, and a fat lot you'll be the better! But there's one thingsure: I'll 'ear no more of your moonin', mullygrubbin' rot, and tyke itstryte.'
The captain took it with a blink and a gulp. Memory, with phantomvoices, repeated in his cars something similar, something he had oncesaid to Herrick--years ago it seemed.
'Now, gimme over your pistol,' said Huish. 'I 'ave to see all clear. Sixshots, and mind you don't wyste them.'
The captain, like a man in a nightmare, laid down his revolver on thetable, and Huish wiped the cartridges and oiled the works.
It was close on noon, there was no breath of wind, and the heat wasscarce bearable, when the two men came on deck, had the boat manned, andpassed down, one after another, into the stern-sheets. A white shirt atthe end of an oar served as a flag of truce; and the men, by direction,and to give it the better chance to be observed, pulled with extremeslowness. The isle shook before them like a place incandescent; onthe face of the lagoon blinding copper suns, no bigger than sixpences,danced and stabbed them in the eyeballs; there went up from sand andsea, and even from the boat, a glare of scathing brightness; and as theycould only peer abroad from between closed lashes, the excess of lightseemed to be changed into a sinister darkness, comparable to that of athundercloud before it bursts.
The captain had come upon this errand for any one of a dozen reasons,the last of which was desire for its success. Superstition rules allmen; semi-ignorant and gross natures, like that of Davis, it rulesutterly. For murder he had been prepared; but this horror of themedicine in the bottle went beyond him, and he seemed to himself to beparting the last strands that united him to God. The boat carried himon to reprobation, to damnation; and he suffered himself to be carriedpassively consenting, silently bidding farewell to his better selfand his hopes. Huish sat by his side in towering spirits that were notwholly genuine. Perhaps as brave a man as ever lived, brave as a weasel,he must still reassure himself with the tones of his own voice; he mustplay his part to exaggeration, he must out-Herod Herod, insult allthat was respectable, and brave all that was formidable, in a kind ofdesperate wager with himself.
'Golly, but it's 'ot!' said he. 'Cruel 'ot, I call it. Nice d'y to getyour gruel in! I s'y, you know, it must feel awf'ly peculiar to getbowled over on a d'y like this. I'd rather 'ave it on a cowld and frostymorning, wouldn't you? (Singing) "'Ere we go round the mulberry bushon a cowld and frosty mornin'." (Spoken) Give you my word, I 'aven'tthought o' that in ten year; used to sing it at a hinfant school in'Ackney, 'Ackney Wick it was. (Singing) "This is the way the tyler does,the tyler does." (Spoken) Bloomin' 'umbug. 'Ow are you off now, for thenotion of a future styte? Do you cotton to the tea-fight views, or theold red 'ot boguey business?'
'Oh, dry up!' said the captain.
'No, but I want to know,' said Huish. 'It's within the sp'ere ofpractical politics for you and me, my boy; we may both be bowled over,one up, t'other down, within the next ten minutes. It would be rather alark, now, if you only skipped across, came up smilin' t'other side,and a hangel met you with a B. and S. under his wing. 'Ullo, you'd s'y:come, I tyke this kind.'
The captain groaned. While Huish was thus airing and exercising hisbravado, the man at his side was actually engaged in prayer. Prayer,what for? God knows. But out of his inconsistent, illogical, andagitated spirit, a stream of supplication was poured forth, inarticulateas himself, earnest as death and judgment.
'Thou Gawd seest me!' continued Huish. 'I remember I had that writtenin my Bible. I remember the Bible too, all about Abinadab and parties.Well, Gawd!' apostrophising the meridian, 'you're goin' to see a rumstart presently, I promise you that!'
The captain bounded.
'I'll have no blasphemy!' he cried, 'no blasphemy in my boat.'
'All right, cap,' said Huish. 'Anythink to oblige. Any other topic youwould like to sudgest, the rynegyge, the lightnin' rod, Shykespeare, orthe musical glasses? 'Ere's conversation on a tap. Put a penny in theslot, and... 'ullo! 'ere they are!' he cried. 'Now or never is 'e goin'to shoot?'
And the little man straightened himself into an alert and dashingattitude, and looked steadily at the enemy. But the captain rose half upin the boat with eyes protruding.
'What's that?' he cried.
'Wot's wot?' said Huish.
'Those--blamed things,' said the captain.
And indeed it was something strange. Herrick and Attwater, bo
th armedwith Winchesters, had appeared out of the grove behind the figure-head;and to either hand of them, the sun glistened upon two metallic objects,locomotory like men, and occupying in the economy of these creatures theplaces of heads--only the heads were faceless. To Davis between windand water, his mythology appeared to have come alive, and Tophet to bevomiting demons. But Huish was not mystified a moment.
'Divers' 'elmets, you ninny. Can't you see?' he said.
'So they are,' said Davis, with a gasp. 'And why? Oh, I see, it's forarmour.'
'Wot did I tell you?' said Huish. 'Dyvid and Goliar all the w'y andback.'
The two natives (for they it was that were equipped in this unusualpanoply of war) spread out to right and left, and at last lay downin the shade, on the extreme flank of the position. Even now that themystery was explained, Davis was hatefully preoccupied, stared at theflame on their crests, and forgot, and then remembered with a smile, theexplanation.
Attwater withdrew again into the grove, and Herrick, with his gun underhis arm, came down the pier alone.
About half-way down he halted and hailed the boat.
'What do you want?' he cried.
'I'll tell that to Mr Attwater,' replied Huish, stepping briskly on theladder. 'I don't tell it to you, because you played the trucklin' sneak.Here's a letter for him: tyke it, and give it, and be 'anged to you!'
'Davis, is this all right?' said Herrick.
Davis raised his chin, glanced swiftly at Herrick and away again, andheld his peace. The glance was charged with some deep emotion, butwhether of hatred or of fear, it was beyond Herrick to divine.
'Well,' he said, 'I'll give the letter.' He drew a score with his footon the boards of the gangway. 'Till I bring the answer, don't move astep past this.'
And he returned to where Attwater leaned against a tree, and gave himthe letter. Attwater glanced it through.
'What does that mean?' he asked, passing it to Herrick.
'Treachery?'
'Oh, I suppose so!' said Herrick.
'Well, tell him to come on,' said Attwater. 'One isn't a fatalist fornothing. Tell him to come on and to look out.'
Herrick returned to the figure-head. Half-way down the pier the clerkwas waiting, with Davis by his side.
'You are to come along, Huish,' said Herrick. 'He bids you look out, notricks.'
Huish walked briskly up the pier, and paused face to face with the youngman.
'W'ere is 'e?' said he, and to Herrick's surprise, the low-bred,insignificant face before him flushed suddenly crimson and went whiteagain.
'Right forward,' said Herrick, pointing. 'Now your hands above yourhead.'
The clerk turned away from him and towards the figure-head, as though hewere about to address to it his devotions; he was seen to heave a deepbreath; and raised his arms. In common with many men of his unhappyphysical endowments, Huish's hands were disproportionately long andbroad, and the palms in particular enormous; a four-ounce jar wasnothing in that capacious fist. The next moment he was plodding steadilyforward on his mission.
Herrick at first followed. Then a noise in his rear startled him, and heturned about to find Davis already advanced as far as the figure-head.He came, crouching and open-mouthed, as the mesmerised may follow themesmeriser; all human considerations, and even the care of his own life,swallowed up in one abominable and burning curiosity.
'Halt!' cried Herrick, covering him with his rifle. 'Davis, what are youdoing, man? YOU are not to come.'
Davis instinctively paused, and regarded him with a dreadful vacancy ofeye.
'Put your back to that figure-head, do you hear me? and stand fast!'said Herrick.
The captain fetched a breath, stepped back against the figure-head, andinstantly redirected his glances after Huish.
There was a hollow place of the sand in that part, and, as it were,a glade among the cocoa palms in which the direct noonday sun blazedintolerably. At the far end, in the shadow, the tall figure of Attwaterwas to be seen leaning on a tree; towards him, with his hands over hishead, and his steps smothered in the sand, the clerk painfully waded.The surrounding glare threw out and exaggerated the man's smallness; itseemed no less perilous an enterprise, this that he was gone upon, thanfor a whelp to besiege a citadel.
'There, Mr Whish. That will do,' cried Attwater. 'From that distance,and keeping your hands up, like a good boy, you can very well put me inpossession of the skipper's views.'
The interval betwixt them was perhaps forty feet; and Huish measuredit with his eye, and breathed a curse. He was already distressed withlabouring in the loose sand, and his arms ached bitterly from theirunnatural position. In the palm of his right hand, the jar was ready;and his heart thrilled, and his voice choked as he began to speak.
'Mr Hattwater,' said he, 'I don't know if ever you 'ad a mother...'
'I can set your mind at rest: I had,' returned Attwater; 'andhenceforth, if I might venture to suggest it, her name need not recur inour communications. I should perhaps tell you that I am not amenable tothe pathetic.'
'I am sorry, sir, if I 'ave seemed to tresparse on your privatefeelin's,' said the clerk, cringing and stealing a step. 'At least, sir,you will never pe'suade me that you are not a perfec' gentleman; Iknow a gentleman when I see him; and as such, I 'ave no 'esitation inthrowin' myself on your merciful consideration. It IS 'ard lines, nodoubt; it's 'ard lines to have to hown yourself beat; it's 'ard lines to'ave to come and beg to you for charity.'
'When, if things had only gone right, the whole place was as good asyour own?' suggested Attwater. 'I can understand the feeling.'
'You are judging me, Mr Attwater,' said the clerk, 'and God knows howunjustly! THOU GAWD SEEST ME, was the tex' I 'ad in my Bible, w'ich myfather wrote it in with 'is own 'and upon the fly leaft.'
'I am sorry I have to beg your pardon once more,' said Attwater; 'but,do you know, you seem to me to be a trifle nearer, which is entirelyoutside of our bargain. And I would venture to suggest that you takeone--two--three--steps back; and stay there.'
The devil, at this staggering disappointment, looked out of Huish'sface, and Attwater was swift to suspect. He frowned, he stared on thelittle man, and considered. Why should he be creeping nearer? The nextmoment, his gun was at his shoulder.
'Kindly oblige me by opening your hands. Open your hands wide--let mesee the fingers spread, you dog--throw down that thing you're holding!'he roared, his rage and certitude increasing together.
And then, at almost the same moment, the indomitable Huish decided tothrow, and Attwater pulled the trigger. There was scarce the differenceof a second between the two resolves, but it was in favour of the manwith the rifle; and the jar had not yet left the clerk's hand, beforethe ball shattered both. For the twinkling of an eye the wretch was inhell's agonies, bathed in liquid flames, a screaming bedlamite; and thena second and more merciful bullet stretched him dead.
The whole thing was come and gone in a breath. Before Herrick could turnabout, before Davis could complete his cry of horror, the clerk lay inthe sand, sprawling and convulsed.
Attwater ran to the body; he stooped and viewed it; he put his finger inthe vitriol, and his face whitened and hardened with anger.
Davis had not yet moved; he stood astonished, with his back to thefigure-head, his hands clutching it behind him, his body inclinedforward from the waist.
Attwater turned deliberately and covered him with his rifle.
'Davis,' he cried, in a voice like a trumpet, 'I give you sixty secondsto make your peace with God!'
Davis looked, and his mind awoke. He did not dream of self-defence, hedid not reach for his pistol. He drew himself up instead to face death,with a quivering nostril.
'I guess I'll not trouble the Old Man,' he said; 'considering the job Iwas on, I guess it's better business to just shut my face.'
Attwater fired; there came a spasmodic movement of the victim, andimmediately above the middle of his forehead, a black hole marred thewhiteness of the figure-head. A dreadful pause
; then again the report,and the solid sound and jar of the bullet in the wood; and this time thecaptain had felt the wind of it along his cheek. A third shot, and hewas bleeding from one ear; and along the levelled rifle Attwater smiledlike a Red Indian.
The cruel game of which he was the puppet was now clear to Davis; threetimes he had drunk of death, and he must look to drink of it seven timesmore before he was despatched. He held up his hand.
'Steady!' he cried; 'I'll take your sixty seconds.'
'Good!' said Attwater.
The captain shut his eyes tight like a child: he held his hands up atlast with a tragic and ridiculous gesture.
'My God, for Christ's sake, look after my two kids,' he said; and then,after a pause and a falter, 'for Christ's sake, Amen.'
And he opened his eyes and looked down the rifle with a quivering mouth.
'But don't keep fooling me long!' he pleaded.
'That's all your prayer?' asked Attwater, with a singular ring in hisvoice.
'Guess so,' said Davis.
So?' said Attwater, resting the butt of his rifle on the ground, 'isthat done? Is your peace made with Heaven? Because it is with me. Go,and sin no more, sinful father. And remember that whatever you do toothers, God shall visit it again a thousand-fold upon your innocents.'
The wretched Davis came staggering forward from his place against thefigure-head, fell upon his knees, and waved his hands, and fainted.
When he came to himself again, his head was on Attwater's arm, and closeby stood one of the men in divers' helmets, holding a bucket of water,from which his late executioner now laved his face. The memory of thatdreadful passage returned upon him in a clap; again he saw Huish lyingdead, again he seemed to himself to totter on the brink of an unplumbedeternity. With trembling hands he seized hold of the man whom he hadcome to slay; and his voice broke from him like that of a child amongthe nightmares of fever: 'O! isn't there no mercy? O! what must I do tobe saved?'
'Ah!' thought Attwater, 'here's the true penitent.'
Chapter 12. TAIL-PIECE
On a very bright, hot, lusty, strongly blowing noon, a fortnight afterthe events recorded, and a month since the curtain rose upon thisepisode, a man might have been spied, praying on the sand by the lagoonbeach. A point of palm trees isolated him from the settlement; and fromthe place where he knelt, the only work of man's hand that interruptedthe expanse, was the schooner Farallone, her berth quite changed, androcking at anchor some two miles to windward in the midst of the lagoon.The noise of the Trade ran very boisterous in all parts of the island;the nearer palm trees crashed and whistled in the gusts, those fartheroff contributed a humming bass like the roar of cities; and yet, to anyman less absorbed, there must have risen at times over this turmoilof the winds, the sharper note of the human voice from the settlement.There all was activity. Attwater, stripped to his trousers and lendinga strong hand of help, was directing and encouraging five Kanakas; fromhis lively voice, and their more lively efforts, it was to be gatheredthat some sudden and joyful emergency had set them in this bustle; andthe Union Jack floated once more on its staff. But the suppliant on thebeach, unconscious of their voices, prayed on with instancy and fervour,and the sound of his voice rose and fell again, and his countenancebrightened and was deformed with changing moods of piety and terror.
Before his closed eyes, the skiff had been for some time tacking towardsthe distant and deserted Farallone; and presently the figure of Herrickmight have been observed to board her, to pass for a while into thehouse, thence forward to the forecastle, and at last to plunge into themain hatch. In all these quarters, his visit was followed by a coil ofsmoke; and he had scarce entered his boat again and shoved off, beforeflames broke forth upon the schooner. They burned gaily; kerosene hadnot been spared, and the bellows of the Trade incited the conflagration.About half way on the return voyage, when Herrick looked back, he beheldthe Farallone wrapped to the topmasts in leaping arms of fire, andthe voluminous smoke pursuing him along the face of the lagoon. In onehour's time, he computed, the waters would have closed over the stolenship.
It so chanced that, as his boat flew before the wind with much vivacity,and his eyes were continually busy in the wake, measuring the progressof the flames, he found himself embayed to the northward of the pointof palms, and here became aware at the same time of the figure of Davisimmersed in his devotion. An exclamation, part of annoyance, part ofamusement, broke from him: and he touched the helm and ran the prowupon the beach not twenty feet from the unconscious devotee. Taking thepainter in his hand, he landed, and drew near, and stood over him. Andstill the voluble and incoherent stream of prayer continued unabated. Itwas not possible for him to overhear the suppliant's petitions, which helistened to some while in a very mingled mood of humour and pity: andit was only when his own name began to occur and to be conjoined withepithets, that he at last laid his hand on the captain's shoulder.
'Sorry to interrupt the exercise,' said he; 'but I want you to look atthe Farallone.'
The captain scrambled to his feet, and stood gasping and staring. 'MrHerrick, don't startle a man like that!' he said. 'I don't seem somewaysrightly myself since...' he broke off. 'What did you say anyway? O, theFarallone,' and he looked languidly out.
'Yes,' said Herrick. 'There she burns! and you may guess from that whatthe news is.'
'The Trinity Hall, I guess,' said the captain.
'The same,' said Herrick; 'sighted half an hour ago, and coming up handover fist.'
'Well, it don't amount to a hill of beans,' said the captain with asigh.
'O, come, that's rank ingratitude!' cried Herrick.
'Well,' replied the captain, meditatively, 'you mayn't just see the waythat I view it in, but I'd 'most rather stay here upon this island. Ifound peace here, peace in believing. Yes, I guess this island is aboutgood enough for John Davis.'
'I never heard such nonsense!' cried Herrick. 'What! with all turningout in your favour the way it does, the Farallone wiped out, the crewdisposed of, a sure thing for your wife and family, and you, yourself,Attwater's spoiled darling and pet penitent!'
'Now, Mr Herrick, don't say that,' said the captain gently; 'when youknow he don't make no difference between us. But, O! why not be one ofus? why not come to Jesus right away, and let's meet in yon beautifulland? That's just the one thing wanted; just say, Lord, I believe, helpthou mine unbelief! And He'll fold you in His arms. You see, I know!I've been a sinner myself!'
The Ebb-Tide: A Trio And Quartette Page 11
