Complete Works of F Marion Crawford

by F. Marion Crawford

  A moment later Mr. Van Torp himself appeared on the bridge in pyjamas.

  ‘Got her?’ he asked eagerly.

  Captain Brown explained that he thought he had cornered the Erinna behind the islet, but was not quite sure of her. Mr. Van Torp waited and said nothing, and the chief mate kept the search-light steadily on the rocks. The yacht lost way rapidly, and lay quite still with the islet exactly abeam, half a mile off, as the captain had calculated. He then gave the order to go slow ahead.

  A minute had not passed when the vessel that had lain concealed behind the island ran out suddenly with all her regulation lights up, apparently making directly across the bows of the Lancashire Lass. Now the rule of the road at sea requires every steamer under weigh to keep out of the way of any steamer that appears on her starboard side forward of the beam. At such a short distance Captain Brown had hardly any choice but to stop his ship again and order ‘half-speed astern’ till she had no way, and he did so. She was barely moving when the order was given, and a few turns of the engines stopped her altogether.

  ‘Is that the Erinna, Captain?’ asked Mr. Van Torp.

  Captain Brown had his glasses up and did not answer at once. After nearly a minute he laid them down on the lid of the small box fastened to the bridge-rail.

  ‘No, sir,’ he answered in a tone of considerable disappointment. ‘At four miles’ distance she looked so much like her that I didn’t dare to let her slip through my fingers, but we have not lost more than a couple of hours.’

  ‘What is this thing, anyway? She’s coming towards us pretty quick.’

  ‘She’s one of those new fast twin-screw revenue cutters the Italians have lately built, sir. They look very like yachts at night. There’s a deal of smuggling on this coast, over from Malta. She’s coming alongside to ask what we mean by giving chase to a government vessel.’

  Captain Brown was right, and when the big cutter had crossed his bows, she ran all round him while she slowed down, and she stopped within speaking distance on his starboard side. The usual questions were asked and answered.

  ‘English yacht Lancashire Lass, from Venice for Messina, expecting to meet a friend’s yacht at sea. Thought the revenue cutter was she. Regretted mistake. Had the captain of the cutter seen or heard of English yacht Erinna?’

  He had not. There was no harm done. It was his duty to watch all vessels. He wished Captain Brown a pleasant trip and good-night.

  The Italian officer spoke English well, and there was no trouble. Revenue cutters are very civil to all respectable yachts.

  ‘Hard-a-starboard. Port engine slow astern, starboard engine half-speed ahead.’

  That was all Captain Brown said, but no one could guess what he was thinking as his big vessel turned quickly to port on her heel, and he headed her up for the Straits again. Mr. Van Torp said nothing at all, but his lips moved as he left the bridge and went off to his own quarters. It was now nearly four o’clock and the eastern sky was grey.

  The current was dead against the yacht through the Straits, which were, moreover, crowded with all sorts of large and small craft under sail, taking advantage of the tide to get through; many of them steered very badly under the circumstances, of course, and it was out of the question to run between them at full speed. The consequence was that it was eight o’clock when the Lancashire Lass steamed slowly into Messina and dropped anchor out in the middle of the harbour, to wait while Captain Brown got information about the Erinna, if there were any to be had at the harbourmaster’s office. It would have been folly to run out of the Straits without at least looking in to see if she were there, lying quietly moored behind the fortress of San Salvatore and the very high mole.

  She was not there, and had not been heard of, but a Paris Herald was procured in which it was stated that the Erinna had arrived in Naples, ‘owner and party on board.’

  ‘Well,’ said Mr. Van Torp, ‘let’s get to Naples, quick. How long will it take, Captain?’

  ‘About eight hours, sir, counting our getting under weigh and out of this crowded water, which won’t take long, for the tide will soon turn.’

  ‘Go ahead,’ said Mr. Van Torp.

  Captain Brown prepared to get under weigh again as quickly as possible. The entrance to Messina harbour is narrow, and it was natural that, as he was in a hurry, a huge Italian man-of-war should enter the harbour at that very moment, with the solemn and safe deliberation which the movements of line-of-battle ships require when going in and out of port. There was nothing to be done but to wait patiently till the fairway was clear. It was not more than a quarter of an hour, but Captain Brown was in a hurry, and as there was a fresh morning breeze blowing across the harbour he could not even get his anchor up with safety before he was ready to start.

  The result of all these delays was that at about nine o’clock he saw the Erinna right ahead, bows on and only half a mile away, just between Scylla and Faro, where the whirlpool is still a danger to sailing vessels and slow steamers, and just as the tide was turning against her and in his own favour. He did not like to leave the bridge, even for a moment, and sent the second mate with an urgent message requesting Mr. Van Torp to come up as soon as he could.

  Five minutes earlier the owner had sat down to breakfast opposite Lady Maud, who was very pale and had dark shadows under her eyes for the first time since he had known her. As soon as the steward left them alone, she spoke.

  ‘It is Leven,’ she said, ‘and he wants me to take him back.’

  Mr. Van Torp set down his tea untasted and stared at her. He was not often completely taken by surprise, but for once he was almost speechless. His lips did not even move silently.

  ‘I was sure it was he,’ Lady Maud said, ‘but I did not expect that.’

  ‘Well,’ said Mr. Van Torp, finding his voice, ‘he shan’t. That’s all.’

  ‘No. I told him so. If I had been dressed I would have asked you to put me ashore at Messina. I thought you were going to stop there — the stewardess told me where we were, but she knew nothing else; and now we’re off again.’

  ‘I can’t help it, Maud,’ said Van Torp, almost in a whisper, ‘I don’t believe it. I don’t believe in impossibilities like that beard of his. It may sound ridiculous in the face of your recognising your own husband, but it’s a solid fact, and you can’t get over it. I wish I could catch the Erinna and show him to that Tartar girl. She’d know in a minute. He can’t be her man and Leven too. There’s only one thing to be done that I can see.’

  ‘What?’ asked Lady Maud sadly and incredulously.

  ‘Tell him you’ll take him back on condition that he’ll shave.’

  Mr. Van Torp, who was in dead earnest, had just given his best friend this piece of sound practical advice when the door opened, though he had not rung, and the steward announced that the second mate had a message for Mr. Van Torp. He was admitted, and he delivered it.

  The owner sprang to his feet.

  ‘By thunder, we’ve caught ’em!’ he cried, as he rushed out of the deck saloon.

  Lady Maud leaned back and stared at his empty chair, wondering what was going to happen next.

  This was what happened. The Lancashire Lass reversed her starboard engine with full speed astern, put her helm hard over to port, and turned back towards the Straits in the smallest space possible for her, passing less than a cable’s length from the Scylla rock, and nearly running down half a dozen fishing-boats that pulled like mad to get out of her way; for they supposed that her steering-gear had broken down, unless her captain had gone raving mad.

  While this was going on, Captain Brown himself, with the International Signal Code in his hand, was calling out letters of the alphabet to a quartermaster, and before his ship had made half a circle the flags ran up the single stick the yacht carried.

  ‘My owner has urgent business with your owner,’ was what the flags meant in plain English.

  The Erinna was going slow, for Baraka was only just ready to come on deck, haste being, in her
opinion, an invention of Shaitan’s. Logotheti, who wished her to see the Straits, was just inside the door of the deck saloon, waiting for her to come out of her cabin. The officer of the watch read off the signals of the other yacht, ran up the answering pennant, and sent for the sailing-master, but could of course do nothing else without orders. So the Erinna continued to go slow. All this took some minutes, for the officer had naturally been obliged to look up the signal in the Code before answering that he understood it; and in that time Van Torp’s yacht had completed her turn and was nearly alongside. The Lancashire Lass slowed down to the Erinna’s speed, and the two captains aimed their megaphones accurately at each other from their respective bridges for a little pleasant conversation. Captain Brown, instructed by Mr. Van Torp at his elbow, repeated what his signals had meant. The other sailing-master answered that he had already informed his owner, who was coming to the bridge directly.

  At that moment Logotheti appeared. There was not much more than a cable’s length between the two yachts, which in land-talk means two hundred yards. Van Torp also saw a slim young lady in blue serge, with a veil tied over her hair, leaning on the rail of the promenade deck and looking towards him. With his glasses he recognised the features of Baraka.

  ‘Got ’em!’ he ejaculated in a low but audible tone of intense satisfaction.

  Logotheti had also seen Van Torp, and waved his hand in a friendly manner.

  ‘Ask the gentleman if he’ll come aboard, Captain,’ said the American. ‘I can’t talk through your cornopean anyway. I suppose we can send the naphtha launch for him if we stop, can’t we?’

  ‘Can’t stop here,’ answered Captain Brown. ‘The currents might jam us into each other, and we should most likely get aground in any case. This is not even a safe place for going slow, when the tide is running.’

  ‘Well, you know your business, and I don’t. Tell him we don’t want to interfere with any arrangements he’s made, and that if he’ll kindly set the pace he likes we’ll trot along behind him till we get to a nice place, somewhere where we can stop. I suppose he can’t run away from us now, can he?’

  Captain Brown smiled the smile of a man who commands a twenty-three-knot boat, and proceeded to deliver the message in a more concise form. Logotheti heard every word, and the answer was that he was in no hurry and was quite at Mr. Van Torp’s disposal. He would be glad to know whom the latter had on board with him.

  ‘Lady Maud Leven, Miss Margaret Donne, Mrs. Rushmore, and Count Kralinsky,’ answered Captain Brown, prompted by Van Torp.

  The latter was watching the Greek through a pair of deer-stalking glasses, and saw distinctly the expression of surprise that came into his face when he heard the last of the names.

  ‘Tell the gentleman,’ said Van Torp, ‘that if he’ll bring his party with him when we stop, I’ll be very glad to have them all take lunch with me.’

  Captain Brown delivered the message. At such a short distance he did not even have to raise his voice to be heard through the six-foot megaphone.

  To Van Torp’s surprise, Logotheti nodded with alacrity, and the answer came that he would bring his party with pleasure, but thought that his visit would be over long before luncheon time.

  ‘All right, good-bye,’ said Van Torp, as if he were at the telephone. ‘Ring off, Captain. That’s all. Just let him give us a lead now and we’ll follow him through this creek again, since you say you can’t stop here.’

  As he went off the bridge to return to his breakfast he passed close to the chief mate, who had turned again, though it was his watch below.

  ‘I say, Mr. Johnson,’ he asked, ‘have we got a barber-shop on board this ship?’

  ‘No, sir,’ answered the mate, who knew better than to be surprised at anything.

  ‘It’s no matter,’ said Mr. Van Torp. ‘I was only asking.’

  He went back to his breakfast with an improved appetite. When he re-entered the saloon Lady Maud was still leaning back in her chair, staring at his empty place.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘they’re both coming on board as soon as we get to a place where we can stop.’

  ‘Have you really seen the girl?’ Lady Maud sat up, as if she were waking from sleep.

  ‘Oh, yes! There she was, looking over the rail, as neat as a pin, in a blue serge dress, with a white veil tied over her hair, watching me. We’ve got ’em right enough, and that’s going to be the end of this mystery!’

  ‘Did you see any one else on the yacht?’

  ‘Logo. That’s all. He and I talked. At least, our captains talked for us. They do know how to yell, those men! If the girl’s the party, Logo beats the band for brass, that’s all I can say!’

  ‘It is rather cool,’ said Lady Maud thoughtfully. ‘If he’s alone with her, it will be all up with his engagement.’

  ‘Well, if that’s the way he’s going on, it’s about time.’ His tone was all at once serious. ‘Now, see here, have I done anything you consider unfair to make this happen? I want your opinion right away, for if you think I have, I’ll stand up for Logo to Miss Donne as hard as I can. Just think it over, please, and tell me your honest opinion. If I’ve done anything low-down, I want to go right back and begin over again.’

  He was thoroughly in earnest, and awaited her answer with evident anxiety. Knowing the man as she did, she would not give it hastily, though it was hard to concentrate her thoughts just then on anything but her own trouble; for she was quite convinced that Baraka would not recognise Kralinsky as the man she was looking for, and that this final proof would settle his identity as Leven, which she already did not doubt.

  She asked one or two questions.

  ‘Before I answer you,’ she said, ‘tell me something, as you tell me things, when you do. Have you any entanglement with another woman from which you feel that you’re not perfectly free? I don’t like to ask such a question, and I wouldn’t if you had not put me on my honour for my opinion.’

  ‘No,’ answered Van Torp very gravely, ‘I have not. No living woman has any claim on me, and no dead woman could have, if she came to life again.’

  ‘Then I think you had a right to do what you’ve done, and what you are going to do. When a man behaves in that way he deserves no pity, and now that the crisis is coming I may as well tell you that I’ve done everything in my power to make Margaret give him up, ever since I have been sure that he had taken the girl with him on his yacht. So far as catching them under Margaret’s very eyes is concerned, I’m glad you have succeeded — very glad!’

  On certain points Lady Maud was inflexible as to the conduct of men and women, but especially of men. ‘Mrs. Foxwell’ spent much time behind the Virtue-Curtain, seeking for poor souls who were willing to be helped, and her experiences had led her to believe a modified version of the story of Adam and Eve and the Apple-tree which was quite her own. In her opinion Adam had been in the habit of talking to his wife about the tree for some time, and when the serpent presented itself to explain things he discreetly withdrew till the interview was over. Therefore ‘Mrs. Foxwell’ was, on the whole, more charitably inclined to her own sex than the other, and when she was ‘Lady Maud’ she held very strong views indeed about the obligations of men who meant to marry, and she expressed them when the intended bride was a friend of hers.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Mr. Van Torp, after she had finished her speech. ‘I’m glad you don’t disapprove, for if you did I’d try to begin all over again, as I told you. Any other question? You said “one or two,” and I’d like to have them all now.’

  ‘Only one more, though perhaps I’ve no business to ask it. If Margaret marries you, shall you want her to leave the stage?’

  ‘Why, no!’ answered Mr. Van Torp with alacrity. ‘That wouldn’t suit my plans at all. Besides, we’re a Company, she and I.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lady Maud thought he was joking.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t going to tell you till we’d organised, but you’re as good as a deaf and dumb asylum about business th
ings. Yes. We’re organising as “The Madame da Cordova and Rufus Van Torp Company.” I’m going to build an opera-house in New York on some land I’ve got on Fifth Avenue, and Miss Donne is going to run it, and we mean to have Wagner festivals and things, besides regular grand opera, in which she’s engaged to sing as often as she likes. There’s never been an opera-house on Fifth Avenue, but there’s going to be, and people will go to it. Miss Donne caught on to the scheme right away, so you see she’s not going to leave the stage anyhow. As for her accepting me, I can’t tell you, because I don’t know. Maybe she will, maybe she won’t. That isn’t going to interfere with the Company either way. Good scheme, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’re a wonderful man,’ said Lady Maud, with genuine admiration. ‘Do you mean to say that you have settled all that between you already?’

  ‘She signed the preliminary agreement in Bayreuth, and the papers are being made out by my lawyer in New York. You don’t think it was unfair to offer to build a theatre and call it after her, do you? That isn’t “exercising undue influence,” I suppose?’

  ‘No, and I think you’re going to win. The other man hasn’t had a chance since you got into your stride.’

  ‘When a man chucks his chances, I’m not going to pick them up for him. Charity begins at home.’

  ‘Even if “home” is a bachelor establishment?’ Lady Maud smiled for the first time that day.

  They talked a few minutes longer, agreeing that she should tell Margaret what was going to happen; but that Mrs. Rushmore and Kralinsky should be kept in ignorance of the plan, the American lady because she might possibly yield to temptation and tell the Count, and the latter for obvious reasons. It was not likely that any of them would be on deck much before Logotheti came on board.