CHAPTER XXVIITHE SILVER CLASP
It was about eleven o’clock on a hot morning and Kenwardine, who had adopted native customs, was leisurely getting his breakfast in the patio. Two or three letters lay among the fruit and wine, but he did not mean to open them yet. He was something of a sybarite and the letters might blunt his enjoyment of the well-served meal. Clare, who had not eaten much, sat opposite, watching him. His pose as he leaned back with a wineglass in his hand was negligently graceful, and his white clothes, drawn in at the waist by a black silk sash, showed his well-knit figure. There were touches of gray in his hair and wrinkles round his eyes, but in spite of this he had a look of careless youth. Clare, however, thought she noticed a hint of preoccupation that she knew and disliked.
Presently Kenwardine picked out an envelope with a British stamp from among the rest and turned it over before inserting a knife behind the flap, which yielded easily, as if the gum had lost its strength. Then he took out the letter and smiled with ironical amusement. If it had been read by any unauthorized person before it reached him, the reader would have been much misled, but it told him what he wanted toknow. There was one word an Englishman or American would not have used, though a Teuton might have done so, but Kenwardine thought a Spaniard would not notice this, even if he knew English well. The other letters were not important, and he glanced at his daughter.
Clare was not wearing well. She had lost her color and got thin. The climate was enervating, and Englishwomen who stayed in the country long felt it more than men, but this did not quite account for her jaded look.
“I am afraid you are feeling the hot weather, and perhaps you have been indoors too much,” he said. “I must try to take you about more when I come back.”
“Then you are going away! Where to?”
Kenwardine would have preferred to hide his destination, but since this would be difficult it seemed safer not to try and there was no reason why his household should not know.
“To Jamaica. I have some business in Kingston, but it won’t keep me long.”
“Can you take me?”
“I think not,” said Kenwardine, who knew his visit would be attended by some risk. “For one thing, I’ll be occupied all the time, and as I must get back as soon as possible, may have to travel by uncomfortable boats. You will be safe with Lucille.”
“Oh, yes,” Clare agreed with languid resignation. “Still, I would have liked a change.”
Kenwardine showed no sign of yielding and she said nothing more. She had chosen to live with him, and although she had not known all that the choice implied,must obey his wishes. For all that, she longed to get away. It had cost her more than she thought to refuse Dick, and she felt that something mysterious and disturbing was going on. Kenwardine’s carelessness had not deceived her; she had watched him when he was off his guard and knew that he was anxious.
“You don’t like Santa Brigida?” he suggested. “Well, if things go as I hope, I may soon be able to sell out my business interests and leave the country. Would that please you?”
Clare’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. Now there was a prospect of its ending, she could allow herself to admit how repugnant the life she led had grown. She had hated the gambling, and although this had stopped, the mystery and hidden intrigue that followed it were worse. If her father gave it all up, they need no longer be outcasts, and she could live as an English girl ought to do. Besides, it would be easier to forget Dick Brandon when she went away.
“Would we go back to England?” she asked eagerly.
“I hardly think that would be possible,” Kenwardine replied. “We might, however, fix upon one of the quieter cities near the Atlantic coast of America. I know two or three that are not too big and are rather old-fashioned, with something of the charm of the Colonial days, where I think you might find friends that would suit your fastidious taste.”
Clare tried to look content. Of late, she had longed for the peaceful, well-ordered life of the English country towns, but it seemed there was some reason they could not go home.
“Any place would be better than Santa Brigida,”she said. “But I must leave you to your letters. I am going out to buy some things.”
The sun was hot when she left the patio, but there was a strip of shade on one side of the street and she kept close to the wall, until turning a corner, she entered a blaze of light. The glare from the pavement and white houses was dazzling and she stopped awkwardly, just in time to avoid collision with a man. He stood still and she looked down as she saw that it was Dick and noted the satisfaction in his eyes.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t keeping a very good lookout,” he said.
“You seemed to be in a hurry,” Clare rejoined, half hoping he would go on; but as he did not, she resumed: “However, you generally give one the impression of having something important to do.”
Dick laughed. “That’s wrong just now, because I’m killing time. I’ve an hour to wait before the launch is ready to go to sea.”
“Then you are sailing somewhere along the coast,” said Clare, who moved forward, and Dick taking her permission for granted, turned and walked by her side.
“Yes. I left Jake at the mole, putting provisions on board.”
“It looks as if you would be away some time,” Clare remarked carelessly.
Dick thought she was not interested and felt relieved. It had been announced at the irrigation camp that he was going to Coronal to engage workmen, in order that the report might reach Kenwardine. He had now an opportunity of sending the latter misleading news, but he could not make use of Clare in this way.
“I expect so, but can’t tell yet when we will be back,” he said.
“Well,” said Clare, “I shall feel that I am left alone. My father is going to Kingston and doesn’t know when he will return. Then you and Mr. Fuller——”
She stopped with a touch of embarrassment, wondering whether she had said too much, but Dick looked at her gravely.
“Then you will miss us?”
“Yes,” she admitted with a blush. “I suppose I shall, in a sense. After all, I really know nobody in Santa Brigida; that is, nobody I like. Of course, we haven’t seen either of you often, but then——”
“You liked to feel we were within call if we were wanted? Well, I wish I could put off our trip, but I’m afraid it’s impossible now.”
“That would be absurd,” Clare answered, smiling, and they went on in silence for the next few minutes.
She felt that she had shown her feelings with raw candor, and the worst was that Dick was right. Though he thought she had robbed him, and was somehow her father’s enemy, she did like to know he was near. Then there had been something curious in his tone and he had asked her nothing about her father’s voyage. Indeed, it looked as if he meant to avoid the subject, although politeness demanded some remark.
“I am going shopping at the Almacen Morales,” she said by and by, giving him an excuse to leave her if he wished.
“Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll come too. It will be out of this blazing sun, and there are a few things Jake told me to get.”
It was a relief to enter the big, cool, general store, but when Clare went to the dry-goods counter Dick turned aside to make his purchases. After this, he strolled about, examining specimens of native feather-work, and was presently seized by an inspiration as he stopped beside some Spanish lace. Clare ought to wear fine lace. The intricate, gauzy web would harmonize with her delicate beauty, but the trouble was that he was no judge of the material. A little farther on, a case of silver filigree caught his eye and he turned over some of the articles. This was work he knew more about, and it was almost as light and fine as the lace. The design was good and marked by a fantastic Eastern grace, for it had come from the Canaries and the Moors had taught the Spaniards how to make it long ago. After some deliberation, Dick chose a belt-clasp in a box by itself, and the girl who had been waiting on him called a clerk.
“You have a good eye, señor,” the man remarked. “The clasp was meant for a sample and not for sale.”
“Making things is my business and I know when they’re made well,” Dick answered modestly. “Anyhow, I want the clasp.”
The clerk said they would let him have it because he sometimes bought supplies for the camp, and Dick put the case in his pocket. Then he waited until Clare was ready and left the store with her. He had bought the clasp on an impulse, but now feared that she might not accept his gift. After a time, he took it out.
“This caught my eye and I thought you might wear it,” he said with diffidence.
Clare took the open case, for at first the beauty of the pattern seized her attention. Then she hesitatedand turned to him with some color in her face.
“It is very pretty, but why do you want to give it to me?”
“To begin with, the thing has an airy lightness that ought to suit you. Then you took care of me and we were very good friends when I was ill. I’d like to feel I’d given you something that might remind you of this. Besides, you see, I’m going away——”
“But you are coming back.”
“Yes; but things might happen in the meantime.”
“What kind of things?” Clare asked in vague alarm.
“I don’t know,” Dick said awkwardly. “Still, disturbing things do happen. Anyhow won’t you take the clasp?”
Clare stood irresolute with the case in her hand. It was strange, and to some extent embarrassing that Dick should insist upon making her the present. He had humiliated her and it was impossible that she could marry him, but there was an appeal in his eyes that was hard to deny. Besides, the clasp was beautiful and he had shown nice taste in choosing it for her.
“Very well,” she said gently. “I will keep it and wear it now and then.”
Dick made a sign of gratitude and they went on, but Clare stopped at the next corner and held out her hand.
“I must not take you any farther,” she said firmly. “I wish you a good voyage.”
She went into a shop and Dick turned back to the harbor where he boarded the launch. The boat wasloaded deep with coal, the fireman was busy, and soon after the provisions Dick had bought arrived, steam was up. He took the helm, the engine began to throb, and they glided through the cool shadow along the mole. When they met the smooth swell at the harbor mouth the sea blazed with reflected light, and Dick was glad to fix his eyes upon the little compass in the shade of the awning astern. The boat lurched away across the long undulations, with the foam curling up about her bow and rising aft in a white following wave.
“I thought of leaving the last few bags of coal,” Jake remarked. “There’s not much life in her and we take some chances of being washed off if she meets a breaking sea.”
“It’s a long run and we’ll soon burn down the coal, particularly as we’ll have to drive her hard to catch the Danish boat,” Dick replied. “If we can do that, we’ll get Kenwardine’s steamer at her last port of call. It’s lucky she isn’t going direct to Kingston.”
“You have cut things rather fine, but I suppose you worked it out from the sailing lists. The worst is that following the coast like this takes us off our course.”
Dick nodded. After making some calculations with Don Sebastian’s help, he had found it would be possible to catch a small Danish steamer that would take them to a port at which Kenwardine’s boat would arrive shortly afterwards. But since it had been given out that he was going to Coronal, he must keep near the coast until he passed Adexe. This was necessary, because Kenwardine would not risk a visit to Jamaica,which was British territory, if he thought he was being followed.
“We’ll make it all right if the weather keeps fine,” he answered.
They passed Adexe in the afternoon and boldly turned seawards across a wide bay. At sunset the coast showed faintly in the distance, obscured by the evening mist, and the land breeze began to blow. It was hot and filled with strange, sour and spicy smells, and stirred the sea into short, white ripples that rapidly got larger. They washed across the boat’s half-immersed stern and now and then splashed on board at her waist; but Dick kept the engine going full speed and sat at the tiller with his eyes fixed upon the compass. It was not easy to steer by, because the lurching boat was short and the card span in erratic jerks when she began to yaw about, swerving off her course as she rose with the seas.
The night got very dark, for the land-breeze brought off a haze, but the engine lamp and glow from the furnace door threw an elusive glimmer about the craft. White sea-crests chased and caught her up, and rolling forward broke between the funnel and the bows. Water splashed on board, the engine hissed as the spray fell on it, and the floorings got wet. One could see the foam on deck wash about the headledge forward as the bows went up with a sluggishness that was the consequence of carrying an extra load of coal.
The fireman could not steer by compass, and after a time Jake took the helm from his tired companion. Dick lay down under the side deck, from which showers of brine poured close beside his head, but did not go to sleep. He was thinking of Clare and whathe must do when he met her father. It was important that they should catch Kenwardine’s boat, since he must not be allowed to land and finish his business before they arrived. In the meanwhile, he listened to the measured clank of the engine, which quickened when the top blade of the screw swung out. So long as she did not lift the others she would travel well, but by and by he heard a splash in the crank-pit and called to the fireman, who started the pump.
Day broke in a blaze of fiery splendor, and the dripping launch dried. The coast was near, the sea got smooth, and the tired men were glad of the heat of the red sun. By and by the breeze died away, and the long swell heaved in a glassy calm, glittering with silver and vivid blue. When their clothes were dry they loosed and spread the awning, and a pungent smell of olive oil and coffee floated about the boat as the fireman cooked breakfast. After they had eaten, Dick moved a bag or two of coal to trim the craft and sounded the tank, because a high-pressure engine uses a large quantity of fresh water. Then he unrolled a chart and measured the distance to their port while Jake looked over his shoulder.
“We ought to be in time,” he said. “The advertisement merely stated that the boat would sail to-day, but as she didn’t leave the last port until yesterday and she’d have some cargo to ship, it’s unlikely that she’ll clear before noon.”
“It might have been safer to telegraph, booking two berths. These little boats don’t often miss a chance of picking up a few dollars, and the skipper would have waited.”
“I thought about that; but the telegram would haveshown what we were after if Kenwardine has bribed somebody in the office, which is possible.”
“You seem convinced he has had an important part in these attacks on merchant ships,” Jake said thoughtfully.
“It’s hard to doubt.”
“The man’s by way of being a friend of mine and took you into his house when you were in some danger of bleeding to death. I’m not sure that he’s guilty, and now I’ve come with you, am going to see he gets fair play; but if you can prove your charge, you may do what you like with him. I think we’ll let it go at that.”
Dick nodded. “In the first place, we must make our port, and it’s lucky we’ll have smooth water until the sea breeze gets up.”
Telling the fireman he could go to sleep, he moved about the engine with an oilcan and afterwards cleaned the fire. Then he lay on the counter with his hand on the helm while the launch sped across the glassy sea, leaving a long wake astern. The high coast ahead got clearer, but after a time dark-blue lines began to streak the glistening water and puffs of wind fanned the men’s faces. The puffs were gratefully fresh and the heat felt intolerable when they passed, but by and by they settled into a steady draught and the dark lines joined, until the sea was all a glowing ultramarine. Then small ripples splashed about the launch and Dick glanced ahead.
“She’s steaming well,” he said as he listened to the steady snort of the exhaust and humming of the cranks. “It’s lucky, because there’s some weight in the wind.”
Some hours later, when the sea was flecked with white, they closed with a strip of gray-green forest that seemed to run out into the water. The launch rolled and lurched as the foam-tipped combers hove her up and the awning flapped savagely in the whistling breeze. Away on the horizon, there was a dingy trail of smoke. Presently Jake stood up on deck, and watched the masts that rose above the fringe of trees.
“There’s a black-top funnel like the Danish boat’s, and a flag with red and white on it, but it’s hanging limp. They don’t feel the breeze inside.”
He jumped down as Dick changed his course, and they passed a spit of surf-washed sand, rounded the last clump of trees, and opened up the harbor mouth. The sunshine fell upon a glaring white and yellow town, and oily water glittered between the wharf and the dark hulls of anchored vessels, but Dick suddenly set his lips. He knew the Danish boat, and she was not there.
“She’s gone,” said Jake with a hint of relief in his voice. “That was her smoke on the skyline.”
CHAPTER XXVIIIROUGH WATER
As soon as they entered port, Dick and Jake went to the office of a Spanish shipbroker, who offered them his polite sympathy.
“We had very little cargo here, and when he heard there was some dyewood at San Ignacio the captain steamed off again,” he explained.
“What sort of a port is San Ignacio, and how far is it?” Dick asked.
“It is analdeaon the shore of a lagoon, with a wharf that small boats can reach, about forty miles from here.”
“Then they take the dyewood off in boats? If there is much of the stuff, it would be a long job.”
“That is so, señor. The boats can only reach the wharf when the tide is high. At other times, the cargo must be carried down through the mud.”
“Have you a large chart of this coast?”
The broker brought a chart and Dick studied it for some minutes, making notes in his pocket-book. Then he looked up.
“Where can I get fresh water?”
The broker asked how much he wanted and after taking some paper money gave him a ticket.
“There is a pipe on the wharf and when the peon sees the receipt he will fill your tanks.”
Dick thanked him and going out with Jake foundtheir fireman asleep in a wine-shop. They had some trouble in wakening the man and after sending him off to get the water, ordered some wine. The room was dirty and filled with flies, but the lattice shutters kept out the heat and they found the shadow pleasant after the glare outside. Jake dropped into a cane chair with a sigh of content. He felt cramped and stiff after the long journey in the narrow cockpit of the plunging launch, and was sensible of an enjoyable lassitude. It would be delightful to lounge about in the shade after refreshing himself with two or three cool drinks, but he had misgivings that this was not what Dick meant to do. When he had drained a large glass of light, sweet wine, he felt peacefully at ease, and resting his head on the chair-back closed his eyes. After this he was conscious of nothing until Dick said: “It’s not worth while to go to sleep.”
“Not worth while?” Jake grumbled drowsily. “I was awake all last night. It’s quiet and cool here and I can’t stand for being broiled outside.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to. We start as soon as Maccario has filled the tank.”
Jake roused himself with a jerk. Dick leaned forward wearily with his elbow on the table, but he looked resolute.
“Then you haven’t let up yet? You’re going on to the lagoon?”
“Certainly,” said Dick. “The Danish boat has an hour’s start, but she only steams eight or nine knots and it will take some time to load her cargo.”
“But we can’t drive the launch hard. The breeze is knocking up the sea.”
“We’ll try,” Dick answered, and Jake growled inprotest. His dream of rest and sleep, and perhaps some mildly exciting adventure when the citizens came out in the cool of the evening, had been rudely banished. Moreover, he had had another reason for being philosophical when he thought his comrade baulked.
“It’s a fool trick. She won’t make it if the sea gets bad.”
Dick smiled dryly. “We can turn back if we find her getting swamped. It looks as if you were not very anxious to overtake Kenwardine.”
“I’m not,” Jake admitted. “If you’re determined to go, I’m coming, but I’d be glad of a good excuse for letting the matter drop.”
Somewhat to his surprise, Dick gave him a sympathetic nod. “I know; I’ve felt like that, but the thing can’t be dropped. It’s a hateful job, but it must be finished now.”
“Very well,” Jake answered, getting up. “If we must go, the sooner we start the better.”
The launch looked very small and dirty when they looked down on her from the wharf, and Jake noted how the surf broke upon the end of the sheltering point. Its deep throbbing roar warned him what they might expect when they reached open water, but he went down the steps and helped Dick to tighten some bearing brasses, after which a peon threw down their ropes and the screw began to rattle. With a few puffs of steam from her funnel the launch moved away and presently met the broken swell at the harbor mouth. Then her easy motion changed to a drunken lurch and Jake gazed with misgivings at the white-topped seas ahead.
She went through the first comber’s crest with her forefoot in the air and the foam washing deep along the tilted deck, while the counter vanished in a white upheaval. Then it swung up in turn, and frames and planking shook as the engine ran away. This happened at short intervals as she fought her way to windward in erratic jerks, while showers of spray and cinders blew aft into the face of her crew.
Dick drove her out until the sea got longer and more regular, when he turned and followed the coast, but the flashing blue and white rollers were now on her beam and flung her to lee as they passed. Sometimes one washed across her low counter, and sometimes her forward half was buried in a tumultuous rush of foam. The pump was soon started and they kept it going, but the water gathered in the crank-pit, where it was churned into lather, and Jake and Maccario relieved each other at helping the pump with a bucket. They were drenched and half blinded by the spray, but it was obvious that their labor was needed and they persevered.
Stopping for breath now and then, with his back to the wind, Jake glanced at the coast as the boat swung up with a sea. It made a hazy blur against the brilliant sky, but his eyes were smarting and dazzled. There was a confusing glitter all around him, and even the blue hollows they plunged into were filled with a luminous glow. Still he thought they made progress, though the launch was drifting to leeward fast, and he told Dick, who headed her out a point or two.
“This is not the usual sea breeze; it’s blowing reallyfresh,” he said. “Do you think it will drop at sundown?”
“I’m not sure,” Dick replied, shading his eyes as he glanced at the windward horizon.
“Then suppose it doesn’t drop?”
“If the sea gets dangerous, we’ll put the helm up and run for shelter.”
“Where do you expect to find it?”
“I don’t know,” Dick admitted. “There are reefs and shoals along the coast that we might get in behind.”
Jake laughed. “Well, I guess this is a pretty rash adventure. You won’t turn back while you can see, and there are safer things than running for a shoal you don’t know, in the dark. However, there’s a point one might get a bearing from abeam and I’ll try to fix our position. It might be useful later.”
Stooping beside the compass, he gazed at the hazy land across its card, and then crept under the narrow foredeck with a chart. He felt the bows sweep upwards, pause for a moment, and suddenly lurch down, but now the sea was long and regular, the motion was rhythmic. Besides, the thud and gurgle of water outside the boat’s thin planks were soothing and harmonized with the measured beat of the screw. Jake got drowsy and although he had meant to take another bearing when he thought he could double the angle, presently fell asleep.
It was getting dark when he awoke and crept into the cockpit. There was a change in the motion, for the launch did not roll so much and the combers no longer broke in showers of spray against her side. She swung up with a swift but easy lift, the foam boiling high about her rail, and then gently slid downinto the trough. It was plain that she was running before the wind, but Jake felt that he must pull himself together when he looked aft, for there is something strangely daunting in a big following sea. A high, white-topped ridge rolled up behind the craft, roaring as it chased her, while a stream of spray blew from its curling crest. It hid the rollers that came behind; there was nothing to be seen but a hill of water, and Jake found it a relief to fix his eyes ahead. The backs of the seas were smoother and less disturbing to watch as they faded into the gathering dark. When the comber passed, he turned to Dick, who stood, alert and highly strung, at the helm.
“You’re heading for the land,” he said. “What are you steering by?”
“I got the bearing of a point I thought I recognized on the chart before I lost sight of the coast. There’s a long reef outshore of it, with a break near the point. If we can get through, we might find shelter.”
“Suppose there’s something wrong with your bearing, or you can’t make good your course?”
“Then there’ll be trouble,” Dick answered grimly. “We’ll have the reef to lee and she won’t steam out again.”
Jake put a kettle on the cylinder-top and took some provisions from a locker. He was hungry and thought he might need all the strength he had, while he did not want to look at the sea. The pump was clanking hard, but he could hear the water wash about under the floorings, and the launch was very wet. Darkness fell as he prepared a meal with the fireman’s help, and they ate by the dim light of the engine-lamp, while Dick, to whom they handed portions, crouched at the helm, gazing close into the illuminated compass.Sometimes he missed the food they held out and it dropped and was washed into the pump-well, but he ate what he could without moving his eyes.
Since he must find the opening in the reef, much depended on his steering an accurate course, but this was difficult, because he had to bear away before the largest combers. Moreover, the erratic motion of a short boat in broken water keeps the compass-card rocking to and fro, and long practise is needed to hit the mean of its oscillations. As a matter of fact, Dick knew he was leaving much to luck.
After a time, they heard a hoarse roar. Since the sound would not carry far to windward, they knew the reef was close ahead, but where the opening lay was another matter. Dick had no guide except the compass, and as the launch would probably swamp if he tried to bring her round head to sea, he must run on and take the risk. By and by, Jake, straining his eyes to pierce the gloom, called out as he saw a ghostly white glimmer to starboard. This was the surf spouting on the reef and if it marked the edge of the channel, they would be safe in going to port; if not, the launch would very shortly be hurled upon the barrier.
Dick stood up and gazed ahead. The white patch was getting plainer, but he could see nothing else. There was, however, a difference in the motion, and the sea was confused. He ordered the engine to be slowed, and they ran on until the belt of foam bore abeam. They must be almost upon the reef now, or else in the channel, and for the next minute or two nobody spoke. If they had missed the gap, the first warning would be a shock, and then the combers that rolled up behind them would destroy the stranded craft.
She did not strike; the surf was level with her quarter, and Jake, thrusting down a long boathook, found no bottom. In another minute or two the water suddenly got smooth, and he threw down the boathook.
“We’re through,” he said in a strained voice. “The reef’s astern.”
“Try the hand-lead,” Dick ordered him, as he changed his course, since he was apparently heading for the beach.
Jake got four fathoms and soon afterwards eighteen feet, when Dick stopped the engine and the launch rolled upon the broken swell. A dark streak that looked like forest indicated the land, and a line of foam that glimmered with phosphorescent light ran outshore of them. Now they were to lee of the reef, the hoarse clamor of the surf rang about the boat. Unfolding the chart, they studied it by the engine-lamp. It was on too small a scale to give many details, but they saw that the reef ran roughly level with the coast and ended in a nest of shoals near a point.
“We could ride out a gale here,” Jake remarked.
“We could, if we wanted,” Dick replied.
Jake looked at him rather hard and then made a sign of resignation. “Well, I guess I’ve had enough, but if you’re going on—— How do you reckon you’ll get through the shoals ahead?”
“I imagine some of them are mangrove islands, and if so, there’ll be a channel of a sort between them. In fact, the chart the broker showed me indicated something of the kind. With good luck we may find it.”
“Very well,” said Jake. “I’m glad to think it will be a soft bottom if we run aground.”
They went on, keeping, so far as they could judge, midway between reef and beach, but after a time thelead showed shoaling water and Jake used the boathook instead. Then the sky cleared and a half-moon came out, and they saw haze and the loom of trees outshore of them. Slowing the engine, they moved on cautiously while the water gradually got shallower, until glistening banks of mud began to break the surface. Then they stopped the engine, but found the launch still moved forward.
“I imagine it’s about four hours’ flood,” Dick remarked. “That means the water will rise for some time yet, and although the current’s with us now I think we can’t be far off the meeting of the tides.”
Jake nodded. In places of the kind, the stream often runs in from both ends until it joins and flows in one direction from the shoalest spot.
“Then we ought to find a channel leading out on the other side.”
They let the engine run for a few minutes until the boat touched bottom and stuck fast in the mud. The wind seemed to be falling and the roar of the surf had got fainter. Thin haze dimmed the moonlight and there were strange splashings in the water that gently lapped about the belts of mud. The stream stopped running, but seeing no passage they waited and smoked.
“If we can get out on the other side, we oughtn’t to be very far from the lagoon,” Jake suggested.
Presently there was a faint rippling against the bows and the launch began to swing round.
“The tide’s coming through from the other end,” said Dick. “We may find a channel if we can push her across the mud.”
For half an hour they laboriously poled her with a long oar and the boathook between the banks of mire.Sometimes she touched and stuck until the rising water floated her off, and sometimes she scraped along the bottom, but still made progress. They were breathless and soaked with perspiration, while the foul scum that ran off the oar stained their damp clothes. Then Jake’s boathook sank a foot or two deeper and finding the depth as good after a few vigorous pushes, they started the engine.
Sour exhalations rose from the wake of the churning screw and there was a curious dragging feel in the boat’s motion, as if she were pulling a body of water after her, but this was less marked when Jake found three or four feet, and by and by he threw down the pole and they went half-speed ahead. After a time, the mangroves outshore got farther off, the air smelt fresher, and small ripples broke the surface of the widening channel. They went full-speed, the trees faded, and a swell that set her rocking met the boat, although there still seemed to be a barrier of sand or mud between her and open sea.
Giving Jake the helm, Dick crawled under the foredeck, where the floorings were drier than anywhere else, and lay smoking and thinking until day broke. The light, which grew brighter rapidly, showed a glistening line of surf to seaward and mangrove forest on a point ahead. Beyond this there seemed to be an inlet, and then the shore curved out again. As they passed the point Dick stood up on deck and presently saw two tall spars rise above the mist. A few minutes later, the top of a funnel appeared, and then a sharp metallic rattle rang through the haze.
“We’re in the lagoon,” he said. “That’s the Danish boat and she hasn’t finished heaving cargo on board.”
CHAPTER XXIXKENWARDINE TAKES A RISK
Shortly after the launch entered the lagoon, the Danish boat hove her anchor and steamed out to sea. Dick, who had engaged a half-breed pilot to take the launch home, lounged in a canvas chair under the poop awning. His eyes were half closed, for the white boats and deckhouses flashed dazzlingly in the strong light as the steamer lurched across the vivid swell of the Caribbean. The cigarette he languidly held had gone out, and his pose was slack.
He was physically tired and his brain was dull, but he was conscious of lethargic satisfaction. For a long time he had been torn between his love for Clare and his duty to his country. His difficulties were further complicated by doubts of Kenwardine’s guilt, but recent events had cleared these up. It was, on the whole, a relief to feel that he must now go forward and there need be no more hesitation and balancing of probabilities. The time for that had gone and his course was plain. He must confront Kenwardine with a concise statement of his share in the plot and force from him an undertaking that he would abandon his traitorous work.
This might be difficult, but Dick did not think he would fail. Don Sebastian, who perhaps knew morethan he did, was to meet him at a Cuban port, and the Spaniard could be trusted to handle the matter with skill. There was no direct communication between Santa Brigida and Kingston, but steamers touched at the latter place when making a round of other ports, which would enable Dick and his ally to join Kenwardine’s boat at her last call. If either of them had gone on board at Santa Brigida, Kenwardine would have left the ship at the next port.
Since he had sailed on an English steamer, bound for British territory, he would be subject to British law when they met, and they could, if needful, have him arrested. Dick admitted that this ought to be done to begin with, but had not decided about it yet. He would wait and be guided by events. The British officials might doubt his story and decline to interfere, but Kenwardine could not count on that, because Don Sebastian was armed with credentials from the President of a friendly state.
Dick, however, dismissed the matter. He was tired in mind and body, and did not mean to think of anything important until he met Kenwardine. By and by his head grew heavy, and resting it on the back of his chair, he closed his eyes. When Jake came up, followed by a steward carrying two tall glasses of frothing liquor, he saw that his comrade was fast asleep.
“You can put them down,” he told the steward. “I’m thirsty enough to empty both, but you can bring some more along when my partner wakes.”
After this he took a black seaman, who was making some noise as he swept the poop, by the arm and firmly led him to the other side of the deck. Then he drainedthe glasses with a sigh of satisfaction, and lighting a cigarette, sat down near Dick’s feet. He did not mean to sleep, but when he got up with a jerk as the lunch bell rang he saw Dick smiling.
“Have I been sitting there all this time?” he asked.
“No,” said Dick. “You were lying flat on deck when I woke up an hour ago.” Then he indicated the two glasses, which had rolled into the scupper channel. “I shouldn’t be surprised if those accounted for it.”
“Perhaps they did,” Jake owned, grinning. “Anyhow, we’ll have some more, with a lump of ice in it, before we go down to lunch.”
The Danish boat met fine weather as she leisurely made her way across the Caribbean, and after an uneventful voyage, Dick and Jake landed at a port in Cuba. The British steamer from Santa Brigida had not arrived, but the agent expected her in the evening, and they found Don Sebastian waiting them at a hotel he had named. When it was getting dark they walked to the end of the harbor mole and sat down to watch for the vessel.
Rows of the lights began to twinkle, one behind the other, at the head of the bay, and music drifted across the water. A bright glow marked the plaza, where a band was playing, but the harbor was dark except for the glimmer of anchor-lights on the oily swell. The occasional rattle of a winch, jarring harshly on the music, told that the Danish boat was working cargo. A faint, warm breeze blew off the land, and there was a flicker of green and blue phosphorescence as the sea washed about the end of the mole.
“I wonder how you’ll feel if Kenwardine doesn’tcome,” Jake said presently, looking at Dick, who did not answer.
“He will come,” Don Sebastian rejoined with quiet confidence.
“Well, I guess he must know he’s doing a dangerous thing.”
“Señor Kenwardine does know, but he plays for high stakes and takes the risks of the game. If it had not been necessary, he would not have ventured on British soil, but since he was forced to go, he thought the boldest plan the safest. This is what one would expect, because the man is brave. He could not tell how far my suspicions went and how much Señor Brandon knew, but saw that he was watched and if he tried to hide his movements he would betray himself. It was wiser to act as if he had nothing to fear.”
“As he was forced to go, his business must be important,” Dick said thoughtfully. “This means he must be dealt with before he lands at Kingston. If we allowed him to meet his confederates there, the mischief would be done, and it might be too late afterwards to stop them carrying out their plans.”
Don Sebastian gave him a quiet smile. “One might learn who his confederates are if he met them. It looks as if you would sooner deal with our friend on board.”
“I would,” Dick said steadily. “His plotting must be stopped, but I’m inclined to think I’d be content with that.”
“And you?” the Spaniard asked, turning to Jake.
“I don’t know that Kenwardine is in the worst of the plot. He was a friend of mine and it’s your businessto prove him guilty. I mean to reserve my opinion until you make your charges good.”
“Very well,” said Don Sebastian. “We’ll be guided by what happens when we see him.”
They let the matter drop, and half an hour later a white light and a green light crept out of the dark to seawards, and a faint throbbing grew into the measured beat of a steamer’s screw. Then a low, shadowy hull, outlined by a glimmer of phosphorescence, came on towards the harbor mouth, and a rocket swept up in a fiery curve and burst, dropping colored lights. A harsh rattle of running chain broke out, the screw splashed noisily for a few moments and stopped, and a launch came swiftly down the harbor.
“The port doctor!” said Dick. “There’s some cargo ready, and she won’t sail for three or four hours. We had better wait until near the last moment before we go on board. If our man saw us, he’d take alarm and land.”
Don Sebastian agreed, and they went back to the hotel, and stayed there until word was sent that the last boat was ready to leave the mole. They took their places with one or two more passengers, and as they drew near the steamer Dick looked carefully about. Several shore boats were hanging on to the warp alongside and a cargo barge lay beside her quarter. It was obvious that she would not sail immediately, and if Kenwardine saw them come on board, he would have no trouble in leaving the vessel. If he landed, he would be in neutral territory, and their hold on him would be gone. To make things worse, a big electric lamp had been hung over the gangway so as to light the ladder.
Dick could not see Kenwardine among the passengers on deck, and getting on board as quietly as possible, they went down the nearest companion stairs and along an alleyway to the purser’s office. A number of rooms opened on to the passage, and Dick had an uncomfortable feeling that chance might bring him face to face with Kenwardine. Nobody met them, however, and they found the purser disengaged.
“If you have a passenger list handy, you might let me see it,” Dick said as he took the tickets.
The purser gave him a list, and he noted Kenwardine’s name near the bottom.
“We may as well be comfortable, although we’re not going far,” he resumed. “What berths have you left?”
“You can pick your place,” said the purser. “We haven’t many passengers this trip, and there’s nobody on the starboard alleyway. However, if you want a hot bath in the morning, you had better sleep to port. They’ve broken a pipe on the other side.”
A bath is a luxury in the Caribbean, but white men who have lived any time in the tropics prefer it warm, and Dick saw why the passengers had chosen the port alleyway. He decided to take the other, since Kenwardine would then be on the opposite side of the ship.
“We’ll have the starboard rooms,” he said. “One can go without a bath for once, and you’ll no doubt reach Kingston to-morrow night.”
“I expect so,” agreed the purser. “Still, we mayn’t be allowed to steam in until the next morning. They’re taking rather troublesome precautions in the British ports since the commerce-raider got to work.”
Dick signed to the others and crossed the after welltowards the poop in a curiously grim mood. He hated the subterfuge he had practised, and there was something very repugnant in this stealthy tracking down of his man, but the chase was nearly over and he meant to finish it. Defenseless merchant seamen could not be allowed to suffer for his squeamishness.
“Don Sebastian and I will wait in the second-class smoking-room until she starts,” he said to Jake. “I want you to lounge about the poop deck and watch the gangway. Let us know at once if you see Kenwardine and it looks as if he means to go ashore.”
He disappeared with his companion, and Jake went up a ladder and sat down on the poop, where he was some distance from the saloon passengers. Kenwardine was less likely to be alarmed at seeing him, but he did not like his part. The man had welcomed him to his house, and although he had lost some money there, Jake did not believe his host had meant to plunder him. After all, Dick and Don Sebastian might be mistaken, and he felt mean as he watched the gangway. A hint from him would enable Kenwardine to escape, and it was galling to feel that it must not be given. Indeed, as time went on, Jake began to wish that Kenwardine would learn that they were on board and take alarm. He was not sure he would warn Dick if the fellow tried to steal away.
In the meanwhile, the pumps on board a water-boat had stopped clanking and she was towed towards the harbor. The steamer’s winches rattled as they hove up cargo from the barge, but Jake had seen that there was not much left and she would sail as soon as the last load was hoisted in. Lighting a cigarette, he ran his eye along the saloon-deck. A few passengers inwhite clothes walked up and down, and he studied their faces as they passed the lights, but Kenwardine was not among them. A group leaned upon the rails in the shadow of a boat, and Jake felt angry because he could not see them well. The suspense was getting keen, and he wished Kenwardine would steal down the ladder and jump into a boat before he could give the alarm.
There was, however, no suspicious movement on the saloon-deck, and Jake, walking to the rail, saw the peons putting the last of the barge’s cargo into the sling. It came up with a rattle of chain, and the barge sheered off. Somebody gave an order, and there was a bustle on deck. In another few minutes Kenwardine’s last chance of escape would be gone, because a British ship is British territory, and her captain can enforce his country’s laws.
Jake threw away his cigarette and took out another when the whistle blew and the windlass began to clank. Although the anchor was coming up, two boats hung on to the foot of the ladder, and he could not be expected to see what was going on while he lighted his cigarette. Kenwardine was clever, and might have waited until the last moment before making his escape, with the object of leaving his pursuers on board, but if he did not go now it would be too late. The clank of the windlass stopped, and Jake, dropping the match when the flame touched his fingers, looked up. A group of dark figures were busy on the forecastle, and he saw the captain on the bridge.
“All clear forward, sir!” a hoarse voice cried, and somebody shouted: “Cast off the boats!”
Then there was a rattle of blocks as the ladder washoisted in, and the deck quivered as the engines began to throb. Jake heard the screw slowly flounder round and the wash beneath the poop as the steamer moved out to sea, but there was nobody except their colored crews on board the boats that dropped astern. Kenwardine had had his chance and lost it. He had been too bold and now must confront his enemies.
Jake went down the ladder and found Dick waiting at the door of the second-class saloon.
“He’s on board,” he said. “I’m sorry he is. In fact, I’m not sure I’d have told you if he’d tried to light out at the last moment.”
Dick gave him a dry smile. “I suspect that Don Sebastian didn’t trust you altogether. He left me, and I shouldn’t be surprised to learn that he had found a place where he could watch the gangway without being seen.”
A few minutes later, the Spaniard crossed the after well. “Now,” he said, “we must decide when we ought to have our interview with Señor Kenwardine, and I think we should put it off until just before we land.”
“Why?” Jake asked. “It would be much pleasanter to get it over and have done with it.”
“I think not,” Don Sebastian answered quietly. “We do not know how Señor Kenwardine will meet the situation. He is a bold man, and it is possible that he will defy us.”
“How can he defy you when he knows you can hand him over to the British authorities?”
“That might be necessary; but I am not sure it is the British authorities he fears the most.”
“Then who is he afraid of?”
“His employers, I imagine,” Don Sebastian answered with a curious smile. “It is understood that they trust nobody and are not very gentle to those who do not serve them well. Señor Kenwardine knows enough about their plans to be dangerous, and it looks as if he might fail to carry their orders out. If we give him too long a warning, he may escape us after all.”
“I don’t see how he could escape. You have him corralled when he’s under the British flag.”
Don Sebastian shrugged as he indicated the steamer’s low iron rail and the glimmer of foam in the dark below.
“There is one way! If he takes it, we shall learn no more than we know now.”
He left them, and Jake looked at Dick. “It’s unthinkable! I can’t stand for it!”
“No,” said Dick very quietly; “he mustn’t be pushed too far. For all that, his friends can’t be allowed to go on sinking British ships.”