Kitabı oku: «Hurricane Island», sayfa 11

"Well, you'll have a sound sleep if you take my advice," he said in his normal tones.

"And then … a sounder," I said lightly.

"You always take too much for granted, doctor," he replied, laughing. "By the Lord, I wish I had your forward mind."

"You shall have anything you like of mine directly," I said flippantly, and began the descent of the ladder.

I was conscious that he leaned over the barrier of the bridge watching me, for I saw the point of his cigar, but that was soon swallowed up in the darkness, and I saw nothing more. The cold was so intense that my fingers had grown numb as I talked with Holgate, and I could hardly feel the iron; moreover, my feet were like lumps of ice and seemed to rest on nothing as they met the rungs. This, I imagine, was the reason of my mishap. At any rate, I missed a rung, lost my catch, and tumbled heavily down the last three or four steps, falling, to my surprise, not upon the hard deck, but upon some warmer, softer body. Remembering vividly and painfully my struggle with Pierce, I was on my guard, and grabbed the man that lay under me.

"For heaven's sake—" he gasped. "It's me—it's Pye."

I was astounded, and relaxed my hold! What was the little craven clerk doing there at this time of night, and in such weather?

"What–" I began, when he uttered an exclamation of terror, as it seemed.

"Dr. Phillimore!"

"That is so," I answered. "What on earth are you doing here?"

There was almost a whimper in his voice as he replied:

"The fog, doctor. I was foolish enough to wander out on the deck, and I lost my way. I've been straying about for twenty minutes or more. I couldn't find the door again."

"Well, you won't in this direction," I assured him. "This part of the country belongs to the enemy. You've strayed afield, my friend, so, if you'll give me your arm, I'll do my best to put you straight."

He thanked me, and did as I asked him, but, as I thought, somewhat timorously. His hand rested nervously inside my arm, as if he would have withdrawn it and fled at a moment's notice. And so we stumbled along the deck together to the state cabins.

I gave the signal on the door, and we were admitted by Ellison. There was no one else in the corridor except Lane at the farther end, and, to my surprise, the Princess. She was seated on a couch under the electric light, reading, clad in a long and flowing morning-gown. Her hand with the book had dropped a little as we entered, and her eyes sought us.

"There will be no alarm to-night, Ellison," I said on the spur of the moment, and I caught the Princess's eye. She rose, shut her book, and came towards us.

"You have come back safely," she said in a quick way.

"The fog was the only danger," I answered. "And it nearly did for Mr. Pye. You may confide your head to the pillow with a security to-night, Miss Morland. To-night Mr. Holgate is a sailor."

She did not seem to understand.

"His care is his ship to-night," I explained.

"You have placed us in your debt," she said. "I do not think my brother knows how much we are indebted to you."

I looked at Pye. The praise was pleasant on her lips, but I felt a little embarrassed. The clerk's eyes were fastened on the Princess Alix with a certain definite avidity of gaze. It was as if some strange animal had suddenly stiffened at the sight of prey and was watching greedily. The look repelled me; it struck horror to my marrow. I could have seized him, shaken his miserable little bones and thrown him into a weeping, cowardly heap on the floor. But as I looked his gaze came round to me, and behold! it was only the feeble watery eyes behind the gold-rimmed spectacles that I saw. With a bow to the Princess I proceeded on my way to give my report to her brother.

CHAPTER XIV
Barraclough Takes a Hand

I did not take Holgate's advice, although I had instinctively made up my mind that he was sincere in offering it. What reason he had for expressing kindliness for me—if he had any—I could not say. I reflected that it might very well be of a piece with his astute plans. He might seek to serve some purpose by it. I was useful as a doctor attending to his wounded men, but I knew enough of him to guess that that alone would not suffice to keep him friendly. There must be another reason, unless, indeed, it was as he said, and he really had been captivated by my personal charm! This solution of the problem was flattering, of course, but I was not disposed to accept it. So deep was my mistrust of the arch schemer that I racked my brain to find an explanation for his conduct. This, needless to say, was not conducive to sleep, and I passed a bad night. It was profoundly still, but towards dawn the screw began to move again, and I concluded that the fog had lifted. I got up and looked out of the port, and could discern dimly the white sheets of the mountains not two furlongs distant. The Sea Queen began to tramp along at a slow pace at first, but finally, getting speed, resumed her normal rate of progress. If I knew Holgate he was still on the bridge, and he would remain there until the danger was over. If he was an abominable scoundrel, he was indubitably also an admirable seaman with a sense of duty to his ship.

I fell asleep shortly after that, and when I awoke the sun was full up, but setting low in the east, glittering upon a field of snowy pinnacles. I ascended to the state-rooms, and there found Barraclough, who had just come on duty. He had a cheerful eye, and scanned me curiously.

"Well, are we going to get through this?" he asked.

"We're going to get out of the Straits, I believe," I answered.

"Ah!" he said, and frowned, as he was accustomed to do when thinking deeply. He was not a man of much thought.

"And after that?" said he abruptly.

"The deluge," said I, shrugging my shoulders.

"Look here, Phillimore, do you believe we can hold out against Holgate's forces?" he asked seriously.

"I think we shall have to try," I replied evasively.

"I'm damned if we can," he said bluffly. "It's all infernal nonsense."

"Well, we've got to try," I repeated impatiently.

"Oh, well! yes, we've got to try," he admitted, "unless Holgate will hear reason."

"Good Lord, man, do you suppose he's risked all this to listen to reason now?" I asked in amazement.

Barraclough turned away. "Well, you see him. You ought to know," he growled. "If he doesn't, we're done."

"I don't advise you to tell the others that," I said drily.

He turned on me fiercely. "Who said I would?" he snapped. "Do you take me for a fool? And who's captain here? Dr. Phillimore, I'll have you know your place," he cried, in a black passion, unusual in him. "I'm commanding officer and responsible to none, not even the—Mr. Morland, by heaven, no—not on this ship, anyway!" And with that remarkable tempest of unreasonable fury he strode angrily away, leaving me annoyed and something abashed. Assuredly the situation, the waiting, the suspense, had played havoc with all our nerves, even with this stolid English gentleman's. There was the development, in fact, as plain as a pike-staff. This tension had worn on us. Barraclough lost his temper for inadequate reasons; the Prince shut himself in his room morosely, for I shall come to that presently; and Lane growled and grumbled so that it was difficult to avoid quarrelling with him. Indeed, it was only by silence that I averted an open collision on more than one occasion. Little Pye was as nervous as a hen; a sound set him jumping. As I came up the stairs noiselessly, I encountered him, and his whole body started.

"Good gracious, man!" said I, with good-humoured contempt, "you'll be skipping away from your own shadow next. How do you expect to stand up against Holgate with a spirit like that?"

He was pale even through the strong colour that the sun had beaten into him. He eyed me without replying for a moment, and then, with the ghost of his old manner, answered: "I expect I shall sit down to him."

The fingers with which he readjusted the glasses—his favourite trick—were tremulous.

Pye was to be counted out in case of an emergency, but Pye somehow set me thinking. Pye's cowardice was manifest—rampant, if one may use such a term; yet he had ventured into the fog the night before; not only so, but upon a deck which was filled in his eyes with horrid enemies, prowling in search of victims. How had he achieved that spirited action? It seemed incredible, yet I had come upon him at the foot of the bridge stairs, and I had his explanation. What induced the timid rabbit to venture out of his hutch upon such a night and in such circumstances? Frankly the riddle beat me, and I should have worried over it had it not been for other matters that seemed more immediately important. I have spoken of the Prince's seclusion. I admit now that it had already made an impression on me. He was, as became his nature and his training, a disciplinarian. Each man had his place and his duties, and Prince Frederic appeared at due seasons and shared in the responsibilities. He did not shirk, in accordance with his promise. But for the rest he had withdrawn himself now for three days from the general company. His meals were served with his sister and Mademoiselle, but from what I saw he was most often in his own cabin; and here it was I got a glimpse of him once again—a glimpse, I mean, into that strange and compound character.

I forget the occasion, but it was necessary that I should see him, and I entered the cabin after knocking. When we were done he pulled his papers before him and sat looking at them dully.

"Have you any literary qualities, Dr. Phillimore?" he asked me, quite unexpectedly.

I hesitated. "If so, they are quite undeveloped," I replied. "I have no reason to suppose so."

"Ah!" he sighed, and taking a volume which lay on the table he opened it. "Do you know German?"

I told him that I could read the language. He nodded.

"It has never been properly appreciated," he said slowly; "the German literature is wonderful—ah, wonderful!" and he appeared to meditate over his page; then he set the book down and looked across at me.

"You are married, doctor? Ah, no!" He nodded again, and once more resumed his meditations. I might have taken it for granted that I was free to go, but for some reason I lingered. He frowned deeply, and sighed again.

"There is a passage in Schiller, but you would not know it–"

He gave me no chance of saying, and I answered nothing; only sat and stared at him.

"There is more music in Germany's little finger than in all the world else—in composition, I mean," he added.

"That has always been my opinion," I ventured at last.

He turned his dull blue eyes on me, as if wondering what I did there. "So!" he said, and heaved a bigger sigh from his very heart, as it seemed. "When the attack is made, doctor–" he broke off, and asked sharply, "When will they attack, do you say?"

"Any moment now, sir," I replied.

He rose. "We must remember the ladies, doctor," he said.

"Yes, we are not likely to forget them," I replied. He eyed me. "Do you think–?" and paused.

"That is all, sir," he said with a curt nod.

It was not a ceremonious or even a fitting dismissal seeing the common peril in which we stood. In that danger surely we should have drifted together more—drifted into a situation where princes and commoners were not, where employers and hirelings did not exist. Yet I was not annoyed, for I had seen some way into his soul, and it was turbid and tortured. Black care had settled on Prince Frederic, and he looked on me out of eyes of gloom. The iron had entered into him, and he was no longer a Prince, but a mortal man undergoing travail and anguish.

By the afternoon we were clear of the Straits, and the nose of the yacht turned northward. Still there was no sign from the mutineers, and that being so, I felt myself at liberty to pay my accustomed visit to Legrand in the forecastle. No one interfered with me, and I did not see Holgate; but the man on guard at the hatch made no difficulty about letting me down. As I descended it came into my mind how easy it would be to dispose of yet another fighting man of the meagre force at the Prince's disposal by clapping the hatch over my head. It would have been a grim joke quite in keeping with Holgate's character, and for a moment I turned as in doubt; but the next second, banishing my misgivings, I went down to the floor. Captivity was telling on the prisoners beyond doubt, for here they got no sight of sun, and the light was that of the gloaming. I remembered that I had forgotten to take a lantern from the sentry as soon as this twilight gloomed on me, and I was turning back when I heard a sound.

"Hsst—hsst!–"

I stopped. "Who is that?" I asked in a whisper.

"It's me, Jones, sir," said one of the hands.

I walked towards him, for the light that streamed in by the open hatchway sufficed to reveal him.

"Anything wrong with you?" said I casually.

"Well, I could do with a bit more light and a smoke, sir," said the man, respectfully cheerful. But it was not his words; it was his action that arrested me, for he jerked his thumb incessantly as he spoke towards the darker recesses of the hold.

"All right, my man," said I. "I'll speak to Mr. Holgate. He oughtn't to keep you in such close confinement if you are to remain human beings."

So saying, I waded into the deeper shadows, and as I did I felt my hand seized and dragged downwards.

"S-s-s-h!" said a very still voice, and I obeyed.

What was it? I was drawn downward, and at last I knelt. I knew now, and somehow my heart leaped within me. I had never really understood Legrand; I had taken him for a very ordinary ship's officer; but I had come slowly to another conclusion. I bent down.

"Heart pretty bad," I said in a mechanical way.

"There's only one way out," whispered a voice below me, "and that's through the bulkheads into the engine-room. I've been waiting, and I think I can do it."

"I don't like the look of the eyes," I remarked indifferently. "Does he eat well?"

"Not very well, sir; it's a job to get him to take it," said Jones.

"We've had four days at it with a knife," said the whisper, "and by thunder we see light now. We'll get through, Phillimore. How do you stand?"

"Sleep at all well?" I inquired.

"I couldn't say, sir," said Jones, "just lays there like a log."

"Attack may be made at any moment," I whispered back. "There are some ten of us holding the state-rooms and the ladies."

He gripped my hand, and I rose to my feet. "Well, I'm afraid I can't do any more," I said. "He's going on pretty much the same. Good-bye, men."

They returned the farewell, and I made my way to the ladder and ascended. The guard with emotionless face helped me out, and the first man my eyes fell on was Holgate, standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at me. He whistled as he eyed me, and his teeth showed in his grin.

"For sheer arduous pursuit of duty I don't know your equal, doctor," said he. "You just hang on to work as if you loved it. How's the patient?"

I told him that it was a question of time, but that there was no reason why Legrand should not get over the injury to his spine—"not that he will ever be the same man again," I added.

"No," said he reflectively, "he won't. And he wants time, does he? Well, perhaps we can give him time—though, mark you, my lad, I don't promise it," he said, with his ugly fang showing in a smile.

He took ten paces along the deck with me, seeming to be wrapped up in his thoughts, and then he paused.

"Tell me, doctor, are you in this move?" he asked brusquely.

"What move?" I asked in turn. "What do you mean?"

He waved a hand towards the upper deck. "Why, Barraclough's, of course," he replied. "Are you working with him? Because, if so, I'd like to know, if only for amusement."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking of," I replied.

"You're not making terms, eh?" said he, heavily leaden of face. "By gosh, you might be, doctor, but you ain't! More fool you. Then it's Barraclough, is it, playing on his own." He chuckled. "That man treated me as pretty dirt all along, didn't he? I'll go bail it was public property. Barraclough's real blue blood. Prick him and see. My son, he's got to be pricked, but I'm no surgeon."

"I understand nothing of all this," I replied. "You enjoy mystification, Holgate, and your talents are remarkable. You can beat Sir John out of his boots. But I wish you'd used your talents elsewhere. Better have buried them. For you've given us a stiff job, and we've simply got to lick you."

You will see that I broke out here in his own vein. I had come to the conclusion that this was my best card to play. I could sum up Holgate to a point, but I did not know him all through, and I was wise enough to recognise that. I think if I had been under thirty, and not over that sagacious age, I should have judged more rashly. But I had that unknown area of Holgate's character to meet, and I thought to meet it by emulating his own bearing. I am not by nature communicative, but I feigned the virtue. I spoke to him as an equal, exchanging views upon the situation as one might exchange them on a cricket match. And I believe he appreciated my tone.

"If you had as little character as Sir John and more prudence, I would have bet on your future, doctor," he said soberly. "But you must play your own cards. And if Sir John wants terms, he must be generous. Generosity becomes the victor."

He smiled, and nodded farewell, and I left him considerably puzzled. I had no guess as to what he meant by his talk of Barraclough and terms. It could only mean one thing on the face of it, and that was that Barraclough had been in communication with him. If so, was this by the Prince's desire? And if so again, why had not I heard of it? Our company was so small and our plight so desperate that it was unseemly to confine policy or diplomacy within a narrow circle. Surely, we had all a right to a knowledge of what was forward—at least, all of us who were in positions of responsibility. As I went back I was consumed with annoyance that such an important matter as a possible compromise with the mutineers had been concealed from me. But then, was it a compromise authorised by the Prince? If I had read that obstinate and that fanatical proud heart aright, I could not credit it.

When I reached the state-rooms I inquired for Barraclough, and then remembered that he would be on duty in the saloon. I immediately sought him there, but found only Grant, who informed me that he had relieved Sir John at his orders half an hour earlier. He could not give any information beyond that. It was possible Barraclough had gone to his cabin, and so I repaired thither; but without success. I made inquiries of Ellison, who had not seen the first officer, and of the steward, who was in a like case.

It was Lane who gave me the clue, in a vein which I will set down without comment.

"He's on a perch, and crowing like a rooster, is the bart. You need not look for flies on Barraclough, doctor. He's his own chauffeur this trip. I don't fancy the joy myself, but the bart. is rorty, and what would you say to Mademoiselle, eh?"

"Oh, let's be plain, Lane!" I said impatiently.

He jerked his thumb across the corridor. "Mademoiselle wants a partner at dominoes, matador, or bridge, doctor, and the bart. plays a good game. If you have to choose between your maid and a bart., you bet your life you'll pocket the bart. Oh, this trip's about enough for me! Where's it going to end, and where are we?" He made a wry face and sank in a heap on his chair. "If you've got any influence with Holgate make him come in. I'm sick of this damn sentry-go. If it suits Germans, it don't suit a true-born Englishman."

"Is Sir John with Mademoiselle?" I asked simply.

"Guess again and you'll guess wrong," said Lane moodily, kicking his feet about.

I was not interested in his feelings at the moment. My mind was occupied with other considerations, but it certainly gave me pause that what I had myself seen was apparently now common knowledge. That Sir John had been fascinated by the coquettish Parisian was obvious to me; if it was obvious to Lane, was it hidden from others who were more concerned? I had my answer as regards one almost immediately.

If Sir John were in the ladies' boudoir, it was not for me to disturb him, and I turned away and passed out of the corridor.

As I was preparing to descend to the cabins I heard the low strains of the small organ which the piety of a former owner of the Sea Queen had placed at the end of the music gallery. I entered, and in the customary twilight made out a figure at the farther end of the room. Perhaps it was the dim light that gave the old air its significance. It had somewhat the effect upon me that music in a church heard faintly and moving with simple solemnity has always had. What is there that speaks so gravely in the wind notes and reeds of an organ?

Ein feste burg ist unser Gott.

I knew the words as familiarly as I knew the music, and yet that was almost the last place and time in which I should have expected to hear it. It was not Mademoiselle who played so low and soft to hear. Oh, I felt sure of that! The touch was lighter, graver and quieter. I drew near the player and listened. I had heard Mademoiselle sing that wonderful song, "Adelaide," and she had sung it divinely. But I would have given a dozen "Adelaide's" for that simple air, rendered by no voice, but merely by sympathetic fingers on those austere keys. I listened, as I say, and into my heart crept something—I know not what—that gave me a feeling of fulness of heart, of a surcharge of strange and not wholly painful sentiment.

I was still battling with these sensations when the music ceased and the player arose. She started slightly on seeing me, and I found myself stammering an excuse for my presence.

"I was looking for Sir John Barraclough."

"Come," she said, after a moment's pause, "I will find him for you."

I followed her into the corridor, until she paused outside a door and opened it abruptly without knocking. I waited without, but I heard her voice, strangely harsh and clear.

"Sir John Barraclough, you are being sought by Dr. Phillimore."

Three minutes later Barraclough joined me, red and discomposed. "Anything the matter?" he growled.

I knew now that I had been used as a definite excuse to get rid of Barraclough, whose presence was not welcome to the Princess Alix; and with that knowledge I framed my answer.

"Yes; what terms have you made with Holgate?"

He started as if I had struck him, stared at me, and his jaw came out in a heavy obstinate fashion he had.

"What's that to you?"

"Only this," said I, "that my life is as valuable to me as yours or the Prince's to you or him, and that therefore I have a right to know."

He laughed shortly. "I'm commanding officer."

"Oh, I'm sick of these airs!" I replied. "If you will not answer me, I will go to the Prince and get an answer from him. He, at least, will see the reasonableness of my request for information."

He changed his attitude at that. "You needn't do that, Phillimore," said he. "I can tell you all you need know. After all, as you say, you've a certain right." He looked at me with his hard unfriendly look, and I met him with one of expectancy. "You know what my opinion is," he resumed. "It's only a bluff to say that we have a chance against Holgate. He's got the ship, and he's got the men. I want to see if we can't make some arrangement."

"And he will?" I inquired sceptically.

Barraclough hesitated. "He's inclined to. He's to let me know. I think he's a bit impressed by our bluff all the same, and if we could hit on a suitable middle course–" He stopped. "Hang it, there are the women, Phillimore!" he said vehemently.

"And you suppose Holgate will take them into consideration?" I said. "Well, perhaps he may. I don't think either you or I really know much of Holgate. But I think I know more than you. He's sociable and friendly, isn't he? One wouldn't take him for a rascally mutineer."

"He's a most infernal ruffian," said he with an oath.

"Yet you would trust him in the matter of terms," I suggested.

Barraclough frowned. "We've got to," he said curtly, "unless you can show me a way to hold out."

"Oh! men have been in worse cases than ours and emerged all right—a little battered, no doubt. And then there's the coal. We can't cruise indefinitely. Holgate's got to put in somewhere."

"Oh, he's not going to wait for that!" said Barraclough moodily. "Look here, Phillimore; have you a guess at what he means to do?"

"I have about ten guesses," I replied, shaking my head, "and none of them fits the case. What's he going to do with us? That's his real difficulty and ours. The money problem's simple. I can't see what's at the back of that black mind, but I don't think it's hopeful for us—women included."

"There you are," he exploded savagely. "Anything if we can prevent the worst."

"Yes," I assented. "Provided you can trust to Holgate's word. But would he let us off at any price and run the risk? And, moreover, the Prince. What of him?"

"He would refuse. He wouldn't budge. He's a nuisance," said Barraclough moodily. "He's our stumbling-block."

"Quite so; and if we all caved in but Mr. Morland, what must his fate be? And we should look on, shouldn't we? And then go home in a tramp steamer, a happy family party with a nice little secret of our own. Ten, twelve, well, say, sixteen of us. I can see Holgate trusting to that, and comfortably lolling back in Yokohama deck-chairs; and I can also see Sir John Barraclough reporting the total loss of the yacht Sea Queen, captain and owner and so-and-so going down with her. I can read it all in the papers here, and now; it will be excellent food for the ha'pennies!"

The frown deepened on his face as I proceeded, but, contrary to my expectation, he did not display any temper at my mocking speech. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll admit the difficulties. It looks like impossibility, but so's the alternative. I'm in despair."

"There's only one thing will solve the problem," I said. He looked up. "Action."

"You mean–"

"Holgate won't wait till his coal's out. He's free for an attack now."

"In God's name, let him!" said Barraclough viciously.