The After House

by Mary Roberts Rinehart

  CHAPTER XVIII

  A BAD COMBINATION

  We picked up a pilot outside the Lewes breakwater a man of few words. Itold him only the outlines of our story, and I believe he halfdiscredited me at first. God knows, I was not a creditable object.When I took him aft and showed him the jolly-boat, he realized, atlast, that he was face to face with a great tragedy, and paid it thetribute of throwing away his cigar.

  He suggested our raising the yellow plague flag; and this we did, witha ready response from the quarantine officer. The quarantine officercame out in a power-boat, and mounted the ladder; and from that momentmy command of the Ella ceased. Turner, immaculately dressed, pale,distinguished, member of the yacht club and partner in the Turner line,met him at the rail, and conducted him, with a sort of chastenedaffability, to the cabin.

  Exhausted from lack of sleep, terrified with what had gone by and whatwas yet to come, unshaven and unkempt, the men gathered on theforecastle-head and waited.

  The conference below lasted perhaps an hour. At the end of that timethe quarantine officer came up and shouted a direction from below, as aresult of which the jolly-boat was cut loose, and, towed by the tug,taken to the quarantine station. There was an argument, I believe,between Turner and the officer, as to allowing us to proceed up theriver without waiting for the police. Turner prevailed, however, and,from the time we hoisted the yellow flag, we were on our way to thecity, a tug panting beside us, urging the broad and comfortable linesof the old cargo boat to a semblance of speed.

  The quarantine officer, a dapper little man, remained on the boat, andbusied himself officiously, getting the names of the men, peering atSingleton through his barred window, and expressing disappointment atmy lack of foresight in having the bloodstains cleared away.

  "Every stain is a clue, my man, to the trained eye," he chirruped."With an axe, too! What a brutal method! Brutal! Where is the axe?"

  "Gone," I said patiently. "It was stolen out of the captain's cabin."

  He eyed me over his glasses.

  "That's very strange," he commented. "No stains, no axe! You fellowshave been mighty careful to destroy the evidence, haven't you?"

  All that long day we made our deliberate progress up the river. Theluggage from the after house was carried up on deck by Adams andClarke, and stood waiting for the customhouse.

  Turner, his hands behind him, paced the deck hour by hour, his heavyface colorless. His wife, dark, repressed, with a look of being alwayson guard, watched him furtively. Mrs. Johns, dressed in black, talkedto the doctor; and, from the notes he made, I knew she was telling thestory of the tragedy. And here, there, and everywhere, efficient,normal, and so lovely that it hurt me to look at her, was Elsa.Williams, the butler, had emerged from his chrysalis of fright, and wasostentatiously looking after the family's comfort. No clearerindication could have been given of the new status of affairs than hischanged attitude toward me. He came up to me, early in the afternoon,and demanded that I wash down the deck before the women came up.

  I smiled down at him cheerfully.

  "Williams," I said, "you are a coward--a mean, white-livered coward.You have skulked in the after house, behind women, when there was man'swork to do. If I wash that deck, it will be with you as a mop."

  He blustered something about speaking to Mr. Turner and seeing that Idid the work I was brought on board to do, and, seeing Turner's eye onus, finished his speech with an ugly epithet. My nerves were strainedto the utmost: lack of sleep and food had done their work. I was nolonger in command of the Ella; I was a common sailor, ready to vent myspleen through my fists.

  I knocked him down with my open hand.

  It was a barbarous and a reckless thing to do. He picked himself upand limped away, muttering. Turner had watched the scene with his coldblue eyes, and the little doctor with his near-sighted ones.

  "A dangerous man, that!" said the doctor.

  "Dangerous and intelligent," replied Turner. "A bad combination!"

  It was late that night when the Ella anchored in the river atPhiladelphia. We were not allowed to land. The police took charge ofship, crew, and passengers. The men slept heavily on deck, exceptBurns, who developed a slight fever from his injury, and moved aboutrestlessly.

  It seemed to me that the vigilance of the officers was exerted largelyto prevent an escape from the vessel, and not sufficiently for thesafety of those on board. I spoke of this, and a guard was placed atthe companionway again. Thus I saw Elsa Lee for the last time untilthe trial.

  She was dressed, as she had been in the afternoon, in a dark cloth suitof some sort, and I did not see her until I had spoken to the officerin charge. She turned, at my voice, and called me to join her whereshe stood.

  "We are back again, Leslie."

  "Yes, Miss Lee."

  "Back to--what? To live the whole thing over again in a courtroom! Ifonly we could go away, anywhere, and try to forget!"

  She had not expected any answer, and I had none ready. I wasthinking--Heaven help me--that there were things I would not forget ifI could: the lift of her lashes as she looked, up at me; the few wordswe had had together, the day she had told me the deck was not clean;the night I had touched her hand with my lips.

  "We are to be released, I believe," she said, "on our own--some legalterm; I forget it."

  "Recognizance, probably."

  "Yes. You do not know law as well as medicine?"

  "I am sorry--no; and I know very little medicine."

  "But you sewed up a wound!"

  "As a matter of fact," I admitted, "that was my initial performance,and it is badly done. It--it puckers."

  She turned on me a trifle impatiently.

  "Why do you make such a secret of your identity?" she demanded. "Is ita pose? Or--have you a reason for concealing it?"

  "It is not a pose; and I have nothing to be ashamed of, unlesspoverty--"

  "Of course not. What do you mean by poverty?"

  "The common garden variety sort. I have hardly a dollar in the world.As to my identity,--if it interests you at all, I graduated in medicinelast June. I spent the last of the money that was to educate me inpurchasing a dress suit to graduate in, and a supper by way ofcelebration. The dress suit helped me to my diploma. The supper gaveme typhoid."

  "So that was it!"

  "Not jail, you see."

  "And what are you going to do now?"

  I glanced around to where a police officer stood behind us watchfully.

  "Now? Why, now I go to jail in earnest."

  "You have been very good to us," she said wistfully. "We have all beenstrained and nervous. Maybe you have not thought I noticed or--orappreciated what you were doing; but I have, always. You have givenall of yourself for us. You have not slept or eaten. And now you aregoing to be imprisoned. It isn't just!"

  I tried to speak lightly, to reassure her.

  "Don't be unhappy about that," I said. "A nice, safe jail, where onemay sleep and eat, and eat and sleep--oh, I shall be very comfortable!And if you wish to make me exceedingly happy, you will see that theylet me have a razor."

  But, to my surprise, she buried her face in her arms. I could notbelieve at first that she was crying. The policeman had wanderedacross to the other rail, and stood looking out at the city lights, hisback to us. I put my hand out to touch her soft hair, then drew itback. I could not take advantage of her sympathy, of the hystericalexcitement of that last night on the Ella. I put my hands in mypockets, and held them there, clenched, lest, in spite of my will, Ireach out to take her in my arms.