Kitabı oku: «Kit Musgrave's Luck», sayfa 15
CHAPTER VI
BETTY DEMANDS HELP
On the evening of Austin's return to Las Palmas he and Jefferson smoked and talked on the veranda steps. Mrs. Austin and Mrs. Jefferson were occupied with some sewing at a table near the lamp, but Olivia was not about. She had gone to a concert at the Metropole with a young English tourist whom Mrs. Austin approved. For all that, Mrs. Austin did not know how far Olivia approved and she was bothered about Kit. He had been longer than she had expected, and to some extent perhaps she was accountable for him. Mrs. Austin generally meant well and as a rule her plans to help people worked, but Kit was headstrong and had not left much to her.
She wondered what Austin thought about her sending off the Cayman. Harry did not say much and he had been occupied since his return. Jefferson had, no doubt, talked to Muriel, but Muriel was sometimes reserved. Now Jefferson and Harry were together, Mrs. Austin thought she might, if she were cautious, get a useful hint.
"I would rather like to get up an excursion to the mountains for Mrs. Gardner's party. She was Muriel's friend in England, and we have not done much to amuse her," she said. "However, I expect you could not join us?"
"You mustn't count on Jake and me," Austin replied. "We have let things go long enough."
"Yet the business kept going. In fact, I imagine it went pretty well."
"That is so," Austin agreed with a smile. "We know where you got your talents, and things do go well when Don Pancho resumes control. All the same, he's had enough and I am needed."
Mrs. Austin was baffled. She had not learned much from Harry, and she tried Jefferson.
"You have not a useful father-in-law. Did you find a bad tangle when you got back?"
"I have known a worse tangle when I was about," Jefferson replied. "Anyhow, I've a pretty good Spanish clerk and Miss Jordan's a wonder." He paused and gave Mrs. Austin a thoughtful glance. "She's a girl to reckon on, but she was glad to slacken up and let me get to work. Struck me she was quiet. Something's bothering her, I guess."
Mrs. Austin let it go. If they would not talk about Cayman, she would not talk about Betty, but she listened. After all, she had given them a lead.
Jefferson lighted a cigarette and turned to Austin. "You met Don Ramon. Were his remarks illuminating?"
"Don Ramon is sometimes discreet; I didn't get much from him. The Commandancia people are his friends and so far I reckon they have not made trouble about the men Musgrave left in Africa. However, he stated that Don Arturo would shortly arrive from Liverpool to see if he could settle the coaling dispute, and I imagine Don Ramon would sooner leave the thing to his chief."
"Do you think Revillon lodged a formal complaint?"
"On the whole, I think not. Revillon's a cautious fellow and didn't get on board Mossamedes. In fact, he hasn't very much to go upon, and it's possible the French foreign office don't want a dispute about the Moorish Atlantic coast. But I don't know, and the situation's interesting. My notion is, it will be handled pretty cautiously when Musgrave comes back. Don Arturo's not a fool, and when a light touch is indicated you can trust Don Ramon."
Jefferson smiled. "In a sense Musgrave's not important. His part's to put across an awkward job the Spanish officers would sooner leave alone, and when the log-rolling begins he drops out. If it pays, the others may use his exploit, but we must try to see he does not get hurt. Anyhow, I hope he has not piled up the boat. We'll want her soon."
"That is so," Austin agreed. "I've been closely engaged and haven't yet bothered about the ketch. But are you going?"
Mrs. Jefferson said they had promised to meet some people at the Catalina, and Austin went with them for a short distance. The night was dark, but soon after they left the gate they met a girl going towards the house with a quick, resolute step. It was not Olivia, and when she vanished in the gloom Jefferson smiled.
"Miss Jordan, I think!" he said, and his voice was rather dry.
A few minutes afterwards, Mrs. Austin, looking up with some surprise, saw Betty on the steps.
"If Mr. Jefferson is wanted you have missed him," Mrs. Austin said.
"I did not want Mr. Jefferson. I met him and the others in the road and knew you were alone."
"Then you wished to see me?" said Mrs. Austin, in a careless voice, although she would sooner Austin had turned back. She indicated a chair and resumed: "Very well! Tell me what it is about."
Betty sat down. Her clothes were plain but very neat. She looked business-like and resolute. Mrs. Austin thought her calm cost her something, but her mouth was very firm.
"Kit has not come back," she said after a moment or two. "I waited until a fishing schooner returned from the African coast. The Lucia arrived this afternoon, but her crew had not seen the Cayman. The next boat is not expected for some time, and I saw I must come to you."
Mrs. Austin noted that Betty had informed herself about the sailing of the fishing fleet. She would sooner have sent the girl off, but since she saw no way of doing so politely, resolved to give her a lead.
"I wonder why you came to me."
"Don't you know?" said Betty, who gave her a searching look. "For one thing, when you persuaded Mr. Jefferson to engage me, you had an object. You often have an object when people think you kind!"
"Then you imagine I am accountable for your getting the post?"
"Of course!" said Betty, with a touch of impatience. "Kit told me about his giving you his mother's letter. I rather forced him to tell me; Kit is trustful and he trusted you. Well, I expect you knew that when he left Liverpool he wanted me to marry him. It's plain you thought I might take him from your sister."
"Perhaps I did so," Mrs. Austin admitted. "Kit's an attractive fellow, and when I was young I fought for my lover; in fact, I fought pretty hard. Was it strange that I imagined you might take my line? We are all human; but perhaps you were proud and felt that Kit must fight for you?"
Betty agreed that Mrs. Austin's humanity was obvious. In a way she was a great lady, an acknowledged leader of fashionable people, but she, so to speak, put off her dignity. Betty was a clerk, but the other talked to her as if it were important that both were flesh and blood.
"You don't altogether understand," Betty rejoined. "At the beginning I did not want to keep Kit away from your sister."
"At the beginning! You imply you would have liked to keep him away afterwards?"
"Something like that," said Betty quietly. "I saw Miss Brown was not the girl for Kit."
Mrs. Austin used some control, for Betty's frankness was embarrassing.
"Yet you refused Kit Musgrave at Liverpool!"
"That is so," said Betty and the blood came to her skin. "I'm a clerk and not beautiful like Miss Brown. I have no advantages and knew nothing but my business until Mrs. Jefferson began to teach me. Kit's pay was small; I thought it might be long before he got more and our poverty would keep him down. A young man who marries on very small pay is badly handicapped. Kit has some talent; I thought if he was free and lucky, he might go far. Well, I saw I mustn't stop him, and I let him go."
Mrs. Austin was moved. Betty, like Kit, was naively sincere, and her unselfishness was plain. It looked as if she loved Kit, but her love was marked by something motherly and protective. In spite of this, however, she was now sternly resolute.
"Since you do not approve Olivia, you ought to have been satisfied when I helped Kit to get a post on board a ship that was not often at Las Palmas like the correillo," Mrs. Austin remarked.
"I was not satisfied. All your thought was for your sister. You did not trust Wolf, but you saw Kit trusted you, and you let him run a risk. So long as he was not at Las Palmas, the risk did not matter. Wolf was the cheat you thought. When he'd done with Kit he sold him and the others to the French captain."
Mrs. Austin was surprised that Betty knew so much. Moreover, she was beginning to get angry, because the girl's accusation was just.
"What do you know about Wolf's selling them? You did not see Kit before he went off," she rejoined.
"I did not," said Betty and coloured. "He saw Miss Brown and did not bother about me, but Mrs. Jefferson told me why he wanted the boat, and I went to Don Erminio's."
She was quiet for a few moments and Mrs. Austin saw her shot had reached its mark. Her mood changed and she was sorry for the girl; Betty had pluck and was very frank.
"But you did not know where to stop," Betty resumed and her eyes sparkled. "When Kit wanted to go back you lent him the Cayman. You knew he was rash, but this did not count. You thought the Moors might carry him off and you would get rid of him for good. Kit took the boat and thanked you. Perhaps it's strange, but he had not found you out!"
Mrs. Austin's face got red and to keep her self-control cost her something. She was, however, calm.
"Perhaps I can't persuade you I am not as selfish as you think, but you are not altogether just," she said. "At the beginning I did send Kit to Wolf, although I doubted the fellow. But I did not know the risk he ran. Afterwards, when Kit wanted the Cayman, he had found me out."
She stopped for a moment, and smiled when she resumed: "In fact, Kit was very angry, and his statements were like yours; he declared I had planned to get rid of him. If it is much comfort, he will not trust me again. Well, I did not want him at Las Palmas, but I did want to help. I liked Kit, I liked his honesty; the young fellow is good stuff. We will let this go. I did not willingly let him take the Cayman. He was resolved to get the boat, and Kit is obstinate. He talked about my plotting against him, because he meant to force me to agree, and when I saw his losing his men weighed on him I did agree. That was all. I had no object then but to see him out."
Betty was persuaded. It looked as if she had exaggerated Mrs. Austin's unscrupulousness, but this was not important. She had come to fight for Kit and the battle was not won.
"Anyhow, you are accountable," she urged. "You let Kit go and he has not come back. Perhaps he's wrecked and hiding on the coast; perhaps the Moors have carried him off. We must find out, you must send another boat – "
She stopped, for Austin came up the steps and leaned against a post. Looking about with a smile, he noted that Mrs. Austin's colour was rather high. Betty was white and highly strung. She was obviously embarrassed by his arrival, but looked resolute.
"You want us to send another boat to Africa, Miss Jordan?" he remarked. "Well, on the whole, I think we must try to indulge you. If you will wait a few minutes, I will go back with you and see Jefferson about it."
He went into the house and Mrs. Austin went after him. When he sat down at a writing table, she stood opposite.
"Were you long in the garden?" she asked.
"Not long, but perhaps long enough," he replied. "I wanted to go round by the back, but to pass through the kitchen might have excited the servants' curiosity. To feel I must steal into my house was rather ridiculous."
Mrs. Austin gave him a searching look. "Then you know the situation! It's awkward, and I'll own my trust in my cleverness has received a nasty knock. You see what I have done? I liked Kit, and he thinks I cheated him. I like Betty and she hates me!"
"Perhaps Miss Jordan has some grounds for annoyance, but I wouldn't exaggerate."
"I did want to keep Kit from Olivia," Mrs. Austin resumed. "Now he's gone back, she'll think him a hero; his going was rather fine. To leave things alone would have been very much better."
"Meddling is sometimes risky," Austin agreed. "On the other hand, Olivia is really not romantic, and I imagine she is weighing young Lockwood's advantages."
"After all, Olivia's not very important, and perhaps Betty's argument was justified. I am accountable for Kit's sailing on board Cayman, and it's possible the Moors have carried him off. I'm not as hard as people think. He must not get hurt."
Austin smiled soothingly. "Exactly! Somebody must go to look for him and I'll try to engage a fishing schooner. The Lucia's fast. Well, I'll talk to Jefferson."
Mrs. Austin put her hand on his arm. "You're a very good sort, Harry. I've done some foolish things, but you haven't yet let me down."
CHAPTER VII
THE "LUCIA" ARRIVES
Jefferson, sitting under a lamp in his office, smoked a cigarette and studied Austin with quiet amusement. He knew his partner rather well and thought him embarrassed; in fact, he thought Harry had some grounds for embarrassment. Jacinta Austin was clever and Jefferson admitted he owed her much; for one thing, he might not have married Muriel had not Jacinta helped. Unfortunately, however, meddling was her habit, and sometimes her clever plans made trouble. Jefferson thought she was sorry she had not left Kit Musgrave alone.
"I guess we had better send the Lucia across," he said, when Austin stopped. "Cayman cost a pretty good sum, and since she has not returned it's possible she has driven ashore. I'd expect the Moors to get busy about a stranded vessel, and on the South coast they're not friends of ours."
"Your argument's plausible, Jake," Austin remarked. "For all that, I imagine you really don't want to let me down."
Jefferson smiled. "Sometimes your imagination's pretty fierce. We're merchants, and when you're up against a possible loss, to spend a small sum in order to get your money back is a useful plan. There's another thing. The patron of the Lucia knows all about catching baccalao, but he stops there. You wouldn't leave him to handle an awkward job, and the Moors are a treacherous lot. Then Revillon may blow in. You see where I lead?"
"It's obvious. One of us ought to go, and the job is mine."
"I think not. You know the sea, but you're a steamboat man. I'm a sailor."
Austin had from the beginning seen that Jefferson knew the part Jacinta had played and knew he himself was accountable for his wife and meant to pay her debts. Jake, however, would not admit this and had taken another line. He was a very good sort, in fact, he was the best. Anyhow, he was a sailor, and somebody must stop at Las Palmas.
"Very well," said Austin. "Don Erminio's house is shut, and I understand his friends don't know where he's gone. Don Ramon has, no doubt, sent him off. Sometimes the captain talks and I expect the Commandancia folks are getting busy. Don Ramon doesn't want any complications before his chief arrives. Well, suppose you bring Musgrave back?"
"I reckon you can leave it to Don Arturo," Jefferson replied. "If Musgrave has got the men, the Spaniards will be glad he's put across an awkward job. Political jealousies are pretty keen, and they have no use for sending Spanish soldiers outside Spanish soil. However, if Kit has put it across, Don Arturo will soon fix up things with the Commandante. I'd back Don Arturo and his manager to bluff Revillon."
Austin agreed, and to agree was some relief. Cayman was his and Jefferson's boat, and he had thought Kit's using her might involve them in some trouble with the government officers. Nevertheless, he must support Jacinta, and Jake would support him.
A few moments afterwards the door opened and Betty came in. Jefferson got up as if he meant to fetch a chair, but Betty did not advance. She stood by the door, looking very slender, straight and white. Her face was quiet and her mouth was firm, but her hands moved nervously. Jefferson stood by his desk and waited. His manner was the manner he would have used had a great lady come in, and Austin thought that after all Betty owed Jacinta much.
"Are you going to send off a schooner in the morning?" she asked.
"It's possible. We were talking about it," Jefferson replied.
"You must send a boat," said Betty firmly.
Jefferson said nothing, but looked at Austin, who knew he must be quiet.
"I don't know if I'm much use and perhaps I'm not," Betty resumed. "However, if a boat does not sail, I'm going back to Liverpool." She paused and added with a hint of strain: "I don't want to go."
"Thank you," said Jefferson. "Well, I allow we want you to stop. There's another thing. I understand my partner kind of promised a boat would go. Sometimes he's rash, but I feel I've got to see him out."
For a moment Betty turned her head, but when she looked up again she was calm and businesslike.
"I am sorry I disturbed you," she said. "If you think I took a line your clerk ought not to take, I will give up my post. However, you are occupied with Mr. Austin, and we can talk about this again – "
She hesitated and the blood came to her skin. "I ought to have known you would not refuse; I really did know, but speed's important," she added, and went off.
"I reckon I ought not to have kept her in suspense," Jefferson remarked. "Miss Jordan's modest, but she has grit, and grit like hers is fine. Muriel is fond of her, and I think she is happy with us. At Liverpool her luck was pretty bad, but if she couldn't bluff me, she was going back. Well, if Kit Musgrave – "
He stopped and Austin, understanding his embarrassment, smiled. Olivia was his relation, but he agreed that if Kit, for her sake, let Betty go, he was a fool. Austin thought he saw what Betty's staunchness cost. The girl was proud, but when she imagined Kit was in danger she conquered her pride. She knew Jefferson knew something about Kit's infatuation, and that her demand for help indicated that she loved him; but she did not count this important. Austin thought that after all Betty's sense of values was just.
For a few minutes he and Jefferson resumed their talk, and then started for the port. They found the Lucia's captain on board, and before long all was ready for her departure in the morning.
In the meantime, Kit and Cayman's crew were strenuously occupied. After they had landed the ballast, cable and all heavy stores, they took careful soundings in the boat and marked the best line to the pool by bearings from the shore. Then, when the moon was new and high water at about twelve o'clock one hot morning they launched the boat. For about two hours there would be water enough to float Cayman across the highest sands, but if she did not reach the pool before the tide ebbed much she would strike and stop for good. Since the ballast was landed, sail could not be used and she must, if possible, be towed by the boat. Kit, however, doubted. There was some wind and towing would be hard. He thought they would soon be forced to kedge; to carry out a small anchor and heave the vessel forward by the rope. Perhaps the worst was the sun was nearly overhead.
The windlass clanked until the cable ran nearly straight up and down, and Kit jumped into the boat. It was not his business, but flesh and blood could not long bear the strain and all must work by turns. For a minute or two they waited, and he looked about. The light on the sea was dazzling, and one saw nothing but glittering lines of foam that marked the turmoil on the sands. To tow Cayman across the belt of broken water looked impossible, but they must try, since kedging is slow and time was short. Moreover, the shoals beyond the pool to some extent broke the sea.
The patron signalled, they got out the oars, and the boat went ahead. She did not go far. The tightening rope jerked her back, under Cayman's bowsprit, and, when they pulled ahead again, fouled the oars. Then the boat sheered off at an angle and they struggled savagely to get her in line. Cayman floated high above water, exposing her side to the wind, and the steep swell rolled her about. Her progress was not even; she advanced by awkward leaps, running up on the boat and a few moments afterwards dragging her back. When her bows swung up Kit saw her copper sparkle with reflections of green and gold, but one did not see it long. The bows went down, the boat ran back, and the plunging bowsprit was over his head. He heard the others' laboured breath and set his mouth and rowed.
Cayman was moving, but her progress was horribly slow. The men's bodies were tense with effort and the muscles on their arms swelled in knots. Their legs were braced like iron, and the sweat glistened on their brown skin. Kit could not see properly, and was conscious of a salt taste in his mouth. In the desert his lips had cracked and he thought they bled. Perhaps he had torn them when he clenched his teeth. The others rowed stubbornly, but he knew they could not keep it up.
They did not keep it up. The tightening rope fouled the steering oar, the boat was drawn back, and when she struck Cayman's bow a man fell off his thwart.
His oar went in the water and when it was recovered the patron signed them to come on board. Miguel and two or three more jumped down and Kit leaned slackly against the bulwarks. There was no shade, the hold and cabin were unthinkably hot, but he saw the short, thin shadow the mainmast threw across the deck had moved. This meant the sun had passed its highest point and the tide was ebbing. He could not judge the progress they had made. Astern, all was dazzling white and yellow. Foam and sand melted in a blaze of colour. The patron stood on the steering gratings and his brows were knit. He said nothing, but Kit thought he knew they could not tow her across.
After a time the patron signalled, a small anchor plunged, the boat came alongside, and Kit helped a fresh crew to put the kedge anchor on board. To carry it ahead was easier than towing, but when they got back they must break out the other anchor and then heave Cayman up to the kedge. To heave by hand was fastest, and for a few minutes the row of men, singing hoarsely, strained and swung. Then the singing stopped, their bodies got upright and went no farther back. The veins stood out on their brown foreheads, but the rope would not come in. They hung on, tense and rigid, unwilling to own that they were beaten.
Perhaps the wind had freshed, for Cayman's plunges were sharper. Without her ballast, she rolled and jumped ridiculously like a cork, and now and then her heavy masts lengthened the swing, until it looked as if she were rolling over. There was not much sea, but on the sands its movement was horizontal; it rolled across the bottom, and for the ketch to advance she must overcome its backward impulse.
The men took the rope to the windlass and laboriously hove the levers up and down. Sometimes the drum would not turn; and then the sharp clink of the pawls indicated that the rope came in. When she was over the kedge all were exhausted, but the anchor must be dropped to hold the ground they had won while the boat took the kedge another cable's length ahead.
When the mast was for a moment upright Kit looked at the shadow and saw it had moved across another plank. He doubted if they could get across the sand, although the men were doing all men could do. The strange thing was, they held out in the scorching heat. But if they did get across, their labour would not be finished, and Kit owned he shrank from reloading the ballast. When they landed the iron, the sea carried the boat ashore; when they brought it off she must be driven against the rollers. Moreover, the work must be done with speed, because the anchorage was unsafe. Cayman had driven ashore and, if it blew hard, might drive ashore again. She could not, without her ballast, beat for open sea.
Somebody shouted and Kit saw an object on the horizon. It was like a sail, but he was dull and his satisfaction was not keen. The other boat would not arrive for some time, and if they did not reach the pool before her, the ebbing tide would strand them on the bank. Although help was perhaps coming, it might come too late. They must concentrate on getting across, and trying to brace himself, he jumped into the boat.
The wind freshened and progress was slower, but the heat did not get less. Kit's head swam, his arms were cramped, and the backward swing with the oar badly hurt his side. To heave at the windlass levers was worse, and he did not bother about the sail. Time was going and he thought he felt Cayman's keel touch bottom. Perhaps the sand was uneven and she had crossed a hummock. He laboured mechanically, seeing nothing but the lever he pulled up and down. All the same, he knew the kedge warp came in, because the pawls clinked; if they stopped, the men were beaten, and Cayman would soon strike. Kit did not know the depth of water the patron got, but the sea was smoother, and this indicated that the tide had sunk behind the shoals. In fact, Kit thought he saw shining sand in the foam. All must brace up for a last effort.
The rope came in faster, as if the resistance slackened, and when the kedge was carried out the men left the windlass and walked aft along the deck with the rope. Somebody said there was good water under the keel, the long pole the captain used for sounding hardly touched bottom, and then did not touch.
"Basta!" he shouted; they made the rope fast, and Kit sat down on deck.
A two-masted vessel came up the channel. The sweep of her slanted green hull, outlined by curling foam, and her high, shining canvas were beautiful, but Kit hardly glanced at her. He was exhausted, and leaning against the bulwarks, he shut his eyes.
Soon afterwards, Jefferson jumped on board and stopped by Kit. Kit's skin was burned, and crusted by salt and sand where the spray had dried. His lips were cracked, and his torn hands bled. Getting an anchor out of a plunging boat is awkward work.
"Hallo!" said Jefferson. "You look as if you had got up against it hard."
Kit opened his eyes and smiled. "I think we have had enough."
Jefferson nodded. "We'll put you on board Lucia; they have rigged an awning under the mainboom. We've got some ice and Pepe knows how to mix a long, cool drink." He turned to the patron. "If there is much sea next high water, you cannot ride to the kedge. I see you have landed the best anchor."
The patron said he had done so and Jefferson ordered his boat to the bow.
"Let your men rest; the Lucia's are fresh. But what about Miguel and Juan, the mate?"
"They are in the forecastle, getting up another warp."
Jefferson gave Kit a smile. "You brought them back! We'll talk about it again. I must get the anchor while there's water across the sand, and will put you on board Lucia before I start."
Kit went on board and got into a hammock under the awning. He thought Jefferson's getting to work typical; Jefferson's habit was to work and talk afterwards. Now he had arrived Kit was not going to bother. His job was finished, and things went smoothly when Jefferson took control. Pepe brought him a cool drink, and soon after he drained the glass he went to sleep.
