CHAPTER XXIITREASURE-TROVE
Tom broke the silence again.
"Now will some one tell me who the devil is Bucks?"
It was the question in all our minds and our eyes groped helplessly in those of each other for an answer.
"Bucks! Bucks! I've heard his name somewhere."
Blythe spoke up like a flash.
"So have I, Jack. He was one of the sailors that took theSanta Theresa. Quinn gave a list of them in his story. This fellow must have escaped somehow when the ship was blown up."
"Or from the gig that set out to pursue the long boat. Perhaps when theTruxillopounded the boat to pieces he swam to shore," I suggested.
"Yes, but Quinn does not mention that Bucks got ashore. That's funny too, because he says that he was the only man from theSanta Theresaleft alive after Bully Evans was shot."
"That is queer. But it's plain Bucksdidescape. Don't you think it might be this way? When he got to shore he ran forward to tell the four who had landed with the treasure about the coming of theTruxillo. But before he reached the top of the hill he heard shots and suspected danger. So he stole forward cautiously and saw what had happened to Wall and Lobardi. Of course he wouldn't dare show himself then, for he was probably unarmed. So he kept hidden while the two survivors buried the treasure."
"Of course. Like a wise man too," assented Tom. "And when Quinn and the mate had pulled their freights he steps out and buries the gold in another place."
"Probably he waited till theTruxillowas out of the harbor," amended the Englishman.
"Sure. But the big point that sticks out like a sore thumb is that Bucks didn't fool Evans and Quinn, but us. The treasure's gone. That's a rock-bottom fact," Yeager commented.
"I'm not so sure about that," I reflected aloud. "Look here. If Bucks dug the gold up he had to rebury it somewhere. He had no way of taking the doubloons with him. He couldn't have hauled the other boxes far. Therefore, it follows that he buried them close to where he found them. Theone thing we don't know is whether he came back later and got the treasure. I'll bet he didn't. The man was a common sailor and had no means."
"Even if we give you the benefit of every doubt, the treasure is hidden. We don't know where. In a year we might not find it."
"True enough, Sam. And we might stumble on it to-morrow. Look at the facts. He was alone, probably superstitious, certainly in fear lest Bully Evans might return and find him there. More than that, he had no provisions. To get away and reach the Indians to get food would be his main thought. It was a case of life and death with him. So you can bet he chose easy digging when he transferred the treasure. That means he buried it in the sand not far from where he found it."
"You have it figured out beautifully," Sam laughed. "Well, I wish you luck."
"But you don't expect any for me. Just you wait and see."
We called the crew in and showed them what we had found, explaining the facts and our deductions from them. For we thought it better they should know just how matters stood. Their disappointment was keen, but to a man they were eager to search further.
Hitherto we had staked our chances for successupon the map, but it was now manifest that the chart was no longer of any use. I decided first to take a look along the shore from the point where we had discovered the first box.
Fortune is a fickle jade. We had spent a week here and met only disappointment, working on careful calculations made from the directions left by Quinn. By chance Gallagher had hit on the first cache. By chance I hit on the second.
Fighting my way through the jungle just adjacent to the beach I stumbled over what I took to be a root. In some annoyance I glanced hastily at the projection—and then looked again. My foot had been caught by a bone sticking out of the ground. The odd thing was that it looked like a human bone.
I plied my machete. Within a quarter of an hour I had cleared a small square of ground and was digging with a pick. What I presently uncovered were the remains of a skeleton. An old sack, more brittle than paper, lay beneath these. This I removed. There, lying in the sand, werethree bars of gold.
My heart jumped, lost a beat, hammered furiously. I looked around quickly. Alderson and Gallagher were the only men I had brought ashore with me. They were digging at haphazard in thesand a hundred yards away. With one stroke of the pick I upended several more yellow bars.
That was enough for me. I laid aside the first three and covered the others with sand, using my foot as a spade. The three original bars I buttoned under my coat and then walked down hill to the beach.
"I'm going aboard," I told the men.
"Gallagher, you may row me out. I'll be back presently, Alderson."
I was under a tremendous suppressed excitement. Blythe met me as I came aboard and his eyes questioned mine. Without a word we moved toward the bridge pavilion and down into the saloon.
"I've had another message from Mr. Bucks," I told him.
"The deuce you say!"
"He delivered it in person this time."
The Englishman's eyes danced, but otherwise his face was immobile.
"Did he say his name was Bucks?"
"No. I'm not dead sure I have him identified correctly. As Tom would say, the brand is worn out."
"I never was any good at riddles," he admitted.
"I stumbled over a thigh bone in the jungle. Itwas sticking out of the ground, where in the course of time the sand had buried the rest of the body. I have reason to think it belonged to Bucks because——"
I paused for dramatic effect, my arms folded across my chest to keep the treasure from slipping down.
"Just so, because——?"
He was as cool as an iced melon, the drawl in his voice not quickening in the least. But his eyes gave away his tense interest.
"Why, because I found a lot of these in the sand, all of them measuring up to sample." From under my coat I drew the shining yellow bars and handed them to him.
"Gold!" he cried softly. "By Jove, this is a find."
"And a lot more where those came from, or I miss my guess. There is a mound there that looks to me like a cache."
"But what was Bucks doing there?"
"That's a guess. Here is mine. It doesn't cost you a cent even if you don't accept it. After he had made the cache we'll say that he hiked off to try to find a settlement. Very likely he had no idea where to look and he found progress through the jungle impossible. After a while he wanderedback, half starved and exhausted. Perhaps his idea may have been that theTruxillowas still on the ground. If so, he may have wanted to offer the gold in exchange for his life. Anyhow, back he comes, to find that he is too late. The brig has gone. In his delirium he has some notion of digging up the treasure to buy food. He gets the first sack of bullion up and then quits, too weak to do any more."
"Sounds reasonable enough. The chief point is that you've found the gold. I'll order a force ashore to help you."
There is something in the very thought of treasure-trove that unsettles the most sane. Not a word was said to anybody except Tom about what I had found, but everybody on board was sure the bullion had been found.
Before the eyes of each man danced shining yellow ingots and pieces of eight. We could tell it by the eagerness with which they volunteered for shore duty.
I chose Yeager, the chief engineer—he was a lank Yankee named Stubbs—and Jamaica Ginger, as we called our second fireman. With us we took ashore a stout box, in which to pack the loose gold.
Those left on board cheered us as we pulled toward the beach, and we answered lustily theircheer. Every man jack of us was in the best of spirits.
By this time it was late in the afternoon, but the sun was still very hot. I was careful not to let anybody work long at a stretch. As the bars of gold were uncovered we packed them in the box brought for the purpose. Every time a shovel disclosed a new find there was fresh jubilation.
While Alderson and I were resting under the shade of a mangrove the sailor made a suggestion.
"You don't expect to get all the treasure out to-night, do you, sir?"
"No. Perhaps not by to-morrow night. It is hard digging among so many roots. And Mr. Bucks does not seem to have put it all together."
"Will you keep a guard here, Mr. Sedgwick?"
"Yes. It looks like a deserted neck of the woods, but we'll take no chances."
"That is what I was thinking, sir. Last night I couldn't sleep for the heat and I strung a hammock on deck. About three o'clock this morning a boat passed on its way to the mouth of the river."
"Cholo Indians, likely."
"No, sir. This was a schooner. It was some distance away, but I could make that out."
"Well, we'll keep this place under our eye till the treasure is lifted."
About sunset I sent Gallagher, Stubbs, and Jamaica Ginger aboard with the box of treasure, the Arizonian being in charge of the boat. While I waited for its return I took a turn up the beach to catch the light breeze that was beginning to stir.
I walked toward the head of the harbor, strolling farther in that direction than any of us had yet gone. I went possibly an eighth of a mile above the spit, carrying my hat in my hand and moving in a leisurely way.
In truth I was at peace with the world. We had succeeded in our quest and found the treasure. In a few days at most I should be back at Panama with my slim sweetheart in my arms. What more could rational man ask?
Then I stopped in my stride, snatched into a sudden amazement. For there before me in the sand was the imprint of a boot made since the tide went out a few hours earlier in the day.
No flat-footed Indian had left the track. It was too sharp, too decisive, had been left plainly by a shoe of superior make.
No guess of the truth came to me, but instinctively I eased the revolver in the scabbard by my side. Of this much I was sure, that whereas I had supposed no white man except those of our partyto be within many miles, there was at least one in the immediate vicinity.
What, then, was he doing here? How had he come? Had he any intimation that there was treasure to be found? It was altogether likely that whoever this man was he had not come to this desolate spot without companions and without a very definite purpose.
Where were they, then? And how did it happen we had not seen them? The very secrecy of their presence seemed to suggest a sinister purpose.
Should I go on and follow the tracks. Or should I go back and notify Blythe at once? The latter no doubt would be the wiser course, but my impulse was to push forward and discover something more definite. As luck would have it, the decision was taken out of my hands.
Out of the jungle a man came straight toward me. The very sight of that strong, erect figure moving swiftly with easy stride tied, as it were, a stone to my heart. The man was Boris Bothwell. I was sure of it long before his face was distinguishable.
He waved a hand at me with debonair insouciance.
I waited for him without moving, my fingers on the butt of the revolver at my side.
"So happy to meet you again, dear friend," he jeered as soon as he was within hail.
"What are you doing here? How did you get out?" I demanded.
"My simple-minded youth, money goes a long way among the natives. I bought my way out, since you are curious to know."
"And you've followed us down here to make more trouble?"
"To renew our little private war. How did you guess it?"
"So you haven't had enough yet. You have come back to take another licking."
"It's a long lane that has no turning," he assured me gaily. "I give you my word that I've reached the bend, Mr. Sedgwick."
His confident audacity got on my nerves. On the surface we had all the best of the game. The trouble was that he knew the cards I held, whereas I could only guess at his.
"You are the most unmitigated villain not yet hanged!" I cried in rage.
He bowed, rakish and smiling, with all the airs of a dancing master.
"I fear you flatter me, sir."
"I warn you to keep your hands off. We're ready for you."
"I thought it only fair to warnyou. That is why I am here and have the pleasure of talking with you."
"More lies. You showed yourself only because you knew I had seen your footprints."
He gave up the point with an easy laugh.
"But really I did want to talk with you. We have many interests in common. Our taste in women, for instance. By the way, did you leave Evie well?"
Triumph swam in the eyes, narrowed to slits, through which he watched me. I could not understand his derisive confidence.
"We'll not discuss that," I told him bluntly.
"As you say. I come to another common interest—the treasure. Is it running up to our hopes?"
So he knew that we had found it. No doubt he had been watching us all day through the telescope that hung at his side.
"We don't recognize any hopes you may have."
"But why not face facts? I intend to own the treasure when you have dug it up for me."
"You're of a sanguine temperament."
"Poof! Life is a game of cards. First you hold trumps, then they fall to me. It chances that now I hold the whip and ride on the crest of fortune'swave. Hope you don't mind mixed figures."
"You'll ride at the end of the hangman's rope," I prophesied.
"Let us look on the bright side."
"I'm trying to do that."
The man knew something that I did not. I was not bandying repartee with him for pleasure, but because I knew that if he talked long enough he would drop the card hidden up his sleeve.
What was his ace of trumps? How could he afford to sit back and let us dig up the gold? He could not be merely bluffing, for the man had been laughing at me from that first wave of the hand.
"It is unfortunate that you and I don't pull together, Mr. Sedgwick. We'd make an invincible team. You're the best enemy I ever met."
"And you're the worst I've met."
"Same thing, I assure you. We both mean compliments. But what I want to say is that it is against the law of conservation of energy for us to be opposing each other. I propose combination instead of competition."
"Be a little more definite, please."
"Chuck your friends overboard and go into partnership with me."
"Are you speaking literally, or in metaphor, captain?"
He shrugged.
"That's a mere detail. If you have compunctions we'll maroon them."
"Just what you promised the crew last time," I scored.
"Wharf rats!" He waved the point aside magnificently. "I'm proposing now a gentleman's agreement."
"Which you'll keep as long as it suits you."
"I thought you knew me better."
"What have you to offer? My friends and I can keep the treasure. Why should I ditch them for you? What's thequid pro quo?"
"You and Evie and I will go shares, third and third alike. The better man of us two will marry her. If it should be you, that will give you two-thirds."
"You're very generous."
"Oh, I intend to marry her if I can. But I'll play fair. If she has the bad taste to prefer you——"
"In the event that I should happen to be alive still," I amended. "You know how dangerous yellow fever is in the Isthmus, captain. I am afraidthat it would get me before we reached the canal zone again."
He chuckled.
"If you have a fault, my friend, it lies on the side of suspicion. When I give my word I keep it—that is, when I give it to a gentleman."
"I don't want to lead you into the temptation of revising your opinion of me and deciding that I am no gentleman."
"Come, Mr. Sedgwick. We're not two fishwives to split hairs over a trifle. I offer a compromise. Do you accept it?"
"You offer me nothing I haven't got already. A share of the treasure—that will be mine, anyhow, as soon as we have it assayed and weighed."
"You forget Evie."
"Who is safe at Panama, beyond your reach, you scoundrel. Why should I fear you as a rival since your life is forfeit as soon as you show your head?"
He could not have spoken more insolently himself. It was hot shot, but I poured it in for a purpose. The mask fell from his face. One could see the devil in his eyes now.
"You reject my offer," he said, breathing hard to repress his rising passion.
A second man had come out of the jungle andwas moving toward us. It was time to be going. I moved back a step or two, my fingers caressing the butt of a revolver.
"Yes, since I don't want to commit suicide, captain."
He suddenly lost his temper completely and hopelessly. He glared at me in a speechless rage, half of a mind to fight our quarrel out on the spot. But the advantage lay with me. All I had to do to blaze away was to tilt the point of my revolver at him without drawing it from the scabbard. Then words came, poured out of him in a torrent. He cursed me in Russian, in French, in English.
I backed from him, step by step, till I was out of range. Then, swiftly as his rage had swept upon him it died away, leaving him white and shaken. He leaned heavily upon the man who had now joined him.
Unless I was much mistaken the man was George Fleming.
CHAPTER XXIIIABOARD THE SCHOONER
Dignity be hanged! I scudded down the beach as fast as my legs would carry me. Alderson had been left alone at the cache and my heart was in my throat.
When I saw him strolling about with his hands in his pockets I could have shouted for joy if I had had the breath. For I had half expected to find him dead.
He came forward quickly to meet me.
"A tug rounded the bend five minutes since and stopped at the yacht, Mr. Sedgwick," he told me.
I looked out into the bay. A boat was just leaving theArgosfor the shore. At the point where the sailors presently beached it I was waiting. Blythe jumped out and splashed through the shallow water to meet me. From the look on his face it was clear that something had gone wrong.
Taking me by the arm he led me a few yards along the sand.
"Bad news, Jack."
"What is it?"
"Miss Wallace was waylaid and kidnaped four days ago while she and her aunt were driving."
"How do you know?"
"Miss Berry sent Philips down in a tug to let us know. But that is not the worst. The day before the kidnaping Bothwell escaped from prison. It is thought that his guards were bribed."
I saw in a flash the cause of the Slav's gloating triumph. Evelyn was his prisoner. He had her safely hidden somewhere in the mangrove swamps.
We might dig the treasure up, but we would have to give him every cent of it in ransom for her. That was his plan, and in it lay the elements of success. For Blythe and Yeager, no more than I, would weigh gold against her safety.
We knew Bothwell. His civilization was a veneer. Disappointed of the wealth he had come seeking, the man would revenge himself on the girl who had stood in his way. I dared not think of the shame and degradation he would make her suffer.
I told Blythe of my meeting with Bothwell.
My face must have been ashen, for Sam put a hand on my shoulder.
"Keep a stiff upper lip, old chap. Bothwell won'thurt her until he is pushed to it. Before that time comes we'll take care of her."
"That's easy saying. But how? That prince of devils has her back there in the swamps guarded by his ruffians. We don't know where they are. This very minute she may be—— My God, think of the danger she runs!"
Blythe shook his head.
"She's safe till Bothwell gives the word. Not one of his fellows would dare lift a hand against her. The captain would shoot him like a dog."
"And Bothwell himself?"
"She's safe yet, Jack. He's playing for the treasure and to marry her, too. The man is not such a fool as to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs. The hour of danger for her would be the one when he found out that he had lost the treasure."
"Let's give it to him. I'll go tell him he may have it all."
"Easy, lad, easy. We must play our cards and not throw the hand down. We must get hold of the treasure before we can make terms."
"And let Evelyn stay in his hands without making an effort to free her?" I demanded.
"Did I say that, Jack?"
"What are you going to do, then?"
"As soon as night falls we'll send a boat up the river to find out where his camp is. We'll make a reconnaissance."
"I'll go."
"Don't you think somebody less impetuous would be better, Jack? We don't want to spoil things by any premature attack."
"I'm going, Sam. That's all there is to say about that."
"All right. If you are, you are. But you'd better let me."
"You may come along if you like."
"No, if you go I'll have to stay by the ship against a possible attack. Tom will have charge of the party that watches the treasure. The deuce of it is that our force will be divided into three. I hope Bothwell does not take the occasion to make mischief."
Within the hour the tug that had brought Philips steamed back down the harbor on the return trip to Panama. With it we sent Jimmie and the steward. Dugan flatly declined to go, and since his wound was almost healed the captain let him stay.
This left us fourteen men, counting the former mutineers and the native stokers. To go with me on my night expedition I chose Alderson andSmith. The guard for the treasure cache consisted of Yeager, Gallagher, Barbados and Stubbs. The rest were to remain with the ship.
The tide was coming in when we pulled from theArgostoward the mouth of the Tuyra. The wash of the waves made it unnecessary for us to take any precautions to muffle the sound of our oars and the darkness of the night made detection at any distance improbable.
One difficulty we did encounter. For the first few hundred yards of our journey up the river we disturbed some of the numberless birds which had settled for the night on the trees close to the banks. The flapping of their wings gave notice of our approach as plainly as if a herald had shouted it.
We carried no light. The heavy tropical jungle growth on the mud flats which extended on both sides of the river helped to increase the darkness. Our progress was slow, for we had to make sure that we did not slip past without noticing the schooner that had brought the pirates down from Panama.
The sound of voices on the water warned us that we were approaching the boat of which we were in search. Very cautiously, keeping close to the bushes along the shore, we drew near theschooner which began to take dim shape in the darkness.
The tide was still strong, and it carried our boat across the bow of the schooner. The anchor chain was hanging and served to hold us in place, though with each lift of the tide I was afraid those on board would hear us grind against her side. Intermittently the voices came to us, though we could make out no words.
We were in a good deal of danger, for any minute one of the crew might saunter to the side of the vessel and look over. It was plain to me that we could not stay here. Either we must go forward or back.
Now back I would not go without finding whether Evelyn was here, and to try to board the schooner in attack would be sheer madness. My mind caught at a compromise.
I whispered to Alderson directions, and when the jibboom of the schooner came down with the next recession of a wave I swung myself to it by means of the chain, using the stays to brace my foot.
Here I lay for a minute getting my bearings, while the sailors in the boat below backed quietly out of sight among the shore bushes that overhung the banks.
So far as I could see the deck was deserted. Carefully I edged on to the bowsprit, crept along it, and let myself down gently to the deck. I could see now that men were lying asleep at the other end of the vessel.
One was standing with his back toward me beside the mizzen-mast. From his clothes I guessed the watch to be a native.
The voices that had come to us across the water still sounded, but more faintly than before I had come on board. Evidently they were from below.
Probably the speakers were in a cabin with the porthole open. I could not be sure, but it struck me that one of them was a woman. My impression was that she pleaded and that he threatened, for occasionally the heavier voice was raised impatiently.
From its scabbard I drew my revolver and crept forward in the shadow of the bulwarks. My life hung on a hair; so too did that of the watchman drowsing by the mast. If he looked up and turned I was lost, and so was he.
Foot by foot I stole toward the forecastle ladder, reached it, and noiselessly passed down the stairs.
I say noiselessly, yet I could hear my heart beat against my ribs as I descended. For I knew nowthat the voices which came from behind the closed door of the cabin to my right belonged to my sweetheart and to Boris Bothwell.
"Not I, but you," he was saying. "I'm hanged if I take the responsibility. If you had trusted me we might have lifted the gold without the loss of a drop of blood."
"You are so worthy of trust!" Evelyn's voice answered with bitterness.
"Have you ever known me to break my word? But let that pass. You chose to reject my love and invite that meddler Sedgwick into our affairs. What is the result? What have you gained?"
"A knowledge of the difference between the love of a true man and that of a false one," she answered quietly.
"A true man! Oh, call him a fool and be done with it."
"Perhaps, but I could love such folly."
He seemed to strangle his irritation in his throat.
"A lot of good it will do! You belong to me. That is written in the book of your life, and what is to be will be. And I'll get the treasure, too."
"Never! You call them fools, but they have outwitted you from start to finish."
"They've pulled the chestnuts out of the fire for me, if that is what you mean."
"And as for me, I'm only a girl, but I swear before Heaven I'd rather sink a knife into my heart than give myself to you."
He clapped his hands ironically with a deep laugh like the bay of a wolf.
"Bravo! Well done! You'd make a fortune in tragedy, Evie. But dramatics apart, you may make up your mind to it. I'm your master, and before twenty-four hours shall be your mate. Why else have I brought this broken wretch of a priest along, but to tie the knot in legal fashion? I'm a reasonable man. Since you have a taste for the conventional and decorum you shall have them. But priest or no priest, willy nilly, mine you are and shall be."
"You think everybody is a fool but yourself. Can't I see why you want the marriage? It's not to please me, but through me to give you a legal claim on the treasure."
"Why do you always stir up the devil in me? I love you. I want to please you. I'll treat you right if you'll let me."
"Then send me back to the yacht, Boris. I'll give my word to divide the treasure with you. My friends will do as I say. You don't want to break my heart, do you? Think of all the dreadful murder that has been done by you."
"Not by me, but by you and your friends. Ioffered to compromise and you would not. Now it is too late. No, by God! I'll play the game out to a fighting finish."
She gave a sobbing little cry.
"Have you no heart?"
His voice fell a note. He moved close to her.
"Cherie, you have stolen it and hold it fast in this little palm I kiss!"
By the sounds from within she must have struggled in vain. I told myself:
"Not yet, not yet!"
"In such fashion my ancestor Bothwell wooed Mary Queen of Scots. Fain she would, but dare not. She knew he was a man and a lover out of ten thousand, and though her heart beat fast for him she was afraid. She fled, and he followed. For he was a lover not to be denied, though a king must die to clear the road. So it is with Boris, my queen."
"You mean——?"
The catch in her voice told me she breathed fast.
He laughed, with that soft boisterousness that marked his merriment.
"Your mad Irishman is no king, but he has crossed my path enough. Next time he dies."
"Because he has tried to serve me!"
"Because he is in my way. Reason enough for me."
The door knob was in my hand. All I had to do was to open it and shoot the man dead. But what after that? His men would swarm down and murder me before the eyes of my love. And she would be left alone with a pack of wolves which had already tasted blood.
It was the hardest ordeal of my life to keep quiet while the fellow pressed his hateful suit, pushed it with the passionate ardor of the Slav, regardless of her tears, her despair, and her helplessness.
For an hour—to make a guess at the time—she fought with all the weapons a woman has at command, fending him off as best she could with tears and sighs and entreaties.
Then I heard a man stumbling down the ladder and moved aside. If he should turn my way I was a dead man, for he must come plump against me. He knocked on the door of the cabin.
Bothwell opened and whispered with him a moment, then excused himself to his cousin, locked the door, and followed the sailor up to the deck.
I unlocked the door softly and walked into the cabin. By the dim light of a hanging lantern I made out a rough room furnished only with twobunks, one above the other, a deal table, and two cheap chairs.
Evelyn had not heard me enter. She was standing with her back to me, leaning against the woodwork of the bed, her face buried in one arm. Despair and weariness showed in every line of the slight, drooping figure.
She must have heard me as I moved. She turned, the deep shadowy eyes gleaming with fear. Never have I seen the soul's terror more vividly flung to the surface.
I suppose that for a moment she could not believe that it was I, and not Bothwell. Perhaps she thought the ghost of me had come to say farewell to her.
She stared at me out of a face from which the color was gone, the great eyes dilating as the truth came home to her. From her throat broke a startled, stifled little cry.
"You!"
I took her in my arms and her tired body came to me. The sensitive mouth trembled, the eyes closed, a shiver of relief passed through her. She clung to me as a frightened child does to its mother, burying her soft cheeks on my shoulder.
Then came sobs. The figure of my love rocked. The horror of what she had been through engulfedher as she told me her story in broken words, in convulsive shivers, in silence so poignant that they stabbed my heart like a needle.
It was such a tale as no girl should have to tell, least of all to the man she loves. But I had come in time—I had come in time. The knowledge of that warmed me like champagne.
I whispered love to her as I kissed in a passion of tenderness the golden hair, the convolutions of the pink ears, the shadows beneath the sad, tired eyes.
"Tell me, how did you come?" she begged.
I told her, in the fewest possible words, for it might be that our time was brief. Briefly I outlined a plan for her rescue.
I would send Alderson and Smith back for aid and would hide somewhere in the vessel during their absence, to be ready in case she needed help.
When Blythe arrived I would join her and barricade the cabin to protect her until our friends had won the ship.
"But if he should find you before——"
I said then what any man with the red blood of youth still running strong in his veins would say to the woman he loves when she is in peril. Let it cost me what it would I was going to free her from these wolves.
Her deep eyes, soft with love, aglow with an adorable trust, met mine for a long instant.
"Do as you will, dear. But go now—before any one comes. And—God with us, Jack!"
Her arm slid round my neck, she drew my face down to hers, and kissed me with a passion that I had not known was in her.
"Remember, Jack—if I never see you again—no matter what happens—I love you, dearest, for ever and ever."
She whispered it brokenly, then pushed me from her toward the door.
The last glimpse I had of her she was standing there in the shadows, like a divine incarnation of love, her eyes raining upon me the soft light that is the sweetest glimpse of heaven given to a man in this storm-battered world.
CHAPTER XXIVA RAT IN A TRAP
I groped my way forward in the darkness till I came to a room used for storing purposes. Well up near the beams was a porthole. Too high for me to reach, I presently found a large box which I upended cautiously until it lay beneath the port. Standing on this I could look through into the heavy foliage of the bushes projecting from the shore.
Except for the lapping of the waves the night was very still. The moon rode low in the sky. A fan-shaped wedge of light silvered the inky river.
I gave the signal agreed upon between me and my men, but no answering flash of white replied to the wave of my handkerchief. Again I shook the piece of linen from the porthole, and at intervals for fully five minutes.
Did Alderson see me? Or was there a reason why he could not answer? It was impossible they could have been captured without some sound having reached me. Nor was it more likely that they had deserted their post.
The bushes stirred at last and the bow of a boat pushed through. Smith stood up so that his face was just below mine. His finger was on his lips.
"Couldn't come any sooner, sir. Captain Bothwell was leaning over the rail smoking a cigarette. I wonder he didn't see your handkerchief," he whispered.
I gave him orders concisely and the men backed the boat till the bushes hid them. For me there was nothing left to do but wait. How long it might be before Blythe would get back with a rescue party I could not tell. The men in the boat would not dare to stir from their hiding-place until the moon went under a cloud.
The tide must now be at the full, so that it would be running out strong before they got started. This would carry them swiftly back to the bay.
I found myself giving my friends two hours as a minimum before they could return to me. At the worst they should be here within four, unless my messenger met with bad luck.
But what about Bothwell? Would he force my hand before Blythe arrived? I thought it very likely. There is something in the tropical air that calls to the passion of a man, and reduces his sense of law till restraint ebbs away.
In Bothwell's case desire and interest went together.He was a criminal on more than one count, but the charges against him would in a measure fall to the ground if he could drive Evie to marry him.
Once she was his wife the kidnaping charge would not stick, and even his black record on theArgoscould be made to appear the chivalry of a high-minded man saving the woman he loved from her enemies.
Moreover, his claim to the treasure would then be a valid one. The man was no fool. What he did must be done quickly. There lay before him one safe road. Since that was the path he desired above all things to follow, it was sure he would set out on it without delay.
Her scruples had hitherto held him back, because it would be better she should come of her own accord to him. But these could not hold him many hours longer.
The masterful insistence of the man had told me that, but no more plainly than his mounting passion.
I sat down on the box and waited. In that dark, stuffy hole the heat was intense. The odor of food decomposing in the moisture of the tropics did not add to my comfort.
Sitting in cushioned chairs in club rooms witha surfeit of comfort within reach, men have argued in my presence that there is no such thing as luck. Men win because of merit; they fail only if there is some lack in themselves.
This is a pleasant gospel for those who have found success, but it does not happen to be true. Take my own case here. How could I foresee that a barefooted, half-naked black cook would come into the storeroom to get a pan of rice for next day's dinner?
Or, as I lay crouched beside a box in the shadows beyond the dim circle illumined by his candle, how could I know whether it were best to announce myself or lie still?
I submit that the part of wisdom was to let the fellow go in peace, and this I did.
But as he turned the light for an instant swept across me. He gave a shriek and flung away both the candle and the pan of rice, bolting for the door. I called to him to stop. For answer he slammed the door—and locked it. Nor did my calls stay the slap of his retreating feet. I was caught fast as a rat in a trap.
I certainly had spilt the fat into the fire this time. Inside of five minutes the passage outside was full of men. But during that time I had beenan active Irishman. In front of me and around me I had piled a barrier of boxes and barrels.
"Who's in there?" Bothwell called.
I fired through the door. Some one groaned. There was a sudden scurry of retreating footsteps, followed by whisperings at the end of the passage. These became imperative, rose and fell abruptly, so that I judged there was a division of counsel.
Presently Bothwell raised his voice and spoke again.
"We've got you, whoever you are. My friend, you'll have a sick time of it if you don't surrender without any more trouble. Do you hear me?"
He waited for an answer, and got none. I had him guessing, for it was impossible to know how many of us might be there. Moreover, there was a chance of working upon the superstition of the natives among the crew. The cook had very likely reported that he had seen a ghost.
Except a shot out of the darkness no sound had come from me since. So long as I kept silent the terror of the mystery would remain. Was I man or devil? What was it spitting death at them from the black room?
"We're going to batter that door down," went on Bothwell, "and then we're going to make you wish you'd never been born."
The voices fell again to a whispered murmur. Soon there would be a rush and the door would be torn from its hinges. I made up my mind to get Bothwell if I could before the end.
Above the mutterings came clearly a frightened soprano.
"What is it, Boris? What are you going to do?"
Evelyn had come out of her room to try to save me.
"Just getting ready to massacre your friend," her cousin answered promptly.
"Mr. Sedgwick?"
Terror shook in the voice that died in her throat.
Bothwell bayed deep laughter.
"O-ho! My friend from Erin once more—for the last time. Come out and meet your welcome, Sedgwick."
"Suppose you come and take me," I suggested.
"By God, I will! Back with you into that room, girl."
A door slammed and a key turned.
Still the rush did not come. I waited, nerves strung to the highest pitch. One could have counted sixty in the dead silence.
I knew that some devilish plan had come to the man and that he was working out the details of it in his mind.
"Say the word, Cap," Fleming called to him impatiently.
"Not just yet, my worthy George. We'll give the meddler an hour to say his prayers. But I'm all for action. Since it isn't to be a funeral just yet, what do you say to a marriage?"
"I don't take you."
"H-m! Hold this passage for a few minutes, George. You'll see what you'll see."
A key turned in a lock. When I heard his voice again the man had stepped inside the cabin used by Evelyn. It lay just back of the storeroom and the portholes of the two rooms were not six feet apart. Every word that was said came clearly to me.
"So you thought you'd trick me, my dear—thought you'd play a smooth trick on your trusting cousin. Fie, Evie!"
"What are you going to do to Mr. Sedgwick?" she demanded.
"There's been some smooth work somewhere. I grant you that. How the devil did he get aboard here? He didn't come alone. If he did, what has become of the boat? Speak up,m'amie."
"Do you think I'd tell you even if I knew?" she asked scornfully.
He laughed softly, with diabolical enjoyment.
"I think you would—and will. I have ways to force open closed mouths, beloved."
"You would—torture me?"
"If it were necessary," he admitted coolly.
She answered in a blaze of defiance.
"Get out your iron cubes for my fingers, you black-hearted villain!"
"Not for your soft fingers,ma cherie. I kiss them one by one as a lover should. Shall we say for your friend's fingers? If you won't talk, perhaps he will."
"Are you all tiger, Boris? Isn't there somewhere in your heart a spark of manhood?" she sobbed, her spirit melted at my danger.
"Rhetorical questions, Evie. Shall we come to business? How did your soon-to-be-deceased lover come on board? Who brought him? What were his plans?"
"If I tell you, will you spare him?" she begged.
"I'll promise this," he assured her maliciously. "If you don't tell I'll not spare him."
She told all she knew except my plan of rescue. As soon as she mentioned the boat in which I had come the fellow hurried up on deck to intercept it.
I could hear a boat scraping against the side of the schooner as it was being lowered. Fleming andtwo others got in and paddled back and forth among the bushes. They found nothing.
My friends had managed to slip away unseen and were headed for theArgos. You may believe that I wished them a safe and speedy voyage.
Bothwell came down the forecastle ladder swearing. He went straight to Evelyn. Before he opened the door he was all suavity once more.
"They've got away this time. Just as well perhaps. We'll be able to concentrate our attention on the wedding festivities. Can you be ready in half an hour, dear heart?"
"Ready for what?" The words choked in her throat.
"To make your lover a happy man. This is our wedding night, my dear."
"Never! I'd rather lie at the bottom of the bay. I wouldn't marry you to save my life."
"H-m! You exaggerate, as is the manner of your charming sex. Now I'll wager that you'd marry me to save—why, to save even that meddling Irishman who is listening to our talk."
She strangled a little cry of despair.
"Why do you hate him so? Is it because he is so much better and braver than you?"
"I don't hate him. He annoys me. So I step on him, just as I do on this spider."
"Don't, Boris. I'll give you all my share of the treasure. I'll forgive you everything you've done. I'll see that you're not prosecuted. Be merciful for once."
"Don't get hysterical, Evie. Sedgwick understands he has got to pay. He took a fighting chance and he has lost. It's all in the game." The villain must have looked at his watch, and then yawned. "Past 10:30. Excuse me for a half hour while I settle your friend's hash. Afterward I'll be back with the priest."
"No—no! I won't have it. Boris, if you ever loved me—Oh, God in heaven, help me now!"
I think that in her wild despair she had flung herself on her knees in front of him. Her voice shook, broke almost into a scream.
"Are these—dramatics—for yourself or for him?" Bothwell asked with a sneer.
"Don't kill him! Don't! I'll do whatever you say."
"Will you marry me—at once—to-night?"
I spoke up from the porthole where I was listening.
"No, she won't, you scoundrel! As for me, I'd advise you to catch your hare before you cook it."
"I'm on my way to catch it now, dear Sedgwick,just as soon as I break away from the lady," he called back insolently.
"I'll—marry you." The words came from a parched throat.
"To-night," he demanded.
"Not to-night," she begged. "When we get back to Panama."
"No. I'm not going to give you a chance to welch. Now—here—on this schooner."
"Not to-night. I'm so—weary and—unstrung. I'll do whatever you say, but—give me time to—to—Oh, I'm afraid!"
"Bothwell, you cur, come in here and you and I will see this out to a finish!" I cried in helpless fury.
"Presently, my dear Sedgwick. I'll be there soon enough, and that's a promise. But ladies first. You wouldn't have me delay my wedding, would you?"
I flung myself against the door repeatedly and tried to beat it down, but my rage was useless. The lock and the hinges held. Back I went to my porthole.
"Evelyn, are you there?"
"Yes," came the answer in a choked voice.
"Don't do it. What are you thinking of? I'drather die a hundred deaths than have you marry him."
"I must, Jack. If you should be killed—and I could have prevented it—— Oh, don't you see I must?"
The words were wrung from her in a cry, as if she had been a tortured child.
"Of course she must. But why make a tragedy of it? By Heaven, you wound my vanity between the pair of you. Am I not straight—as good a man as my neighbor—still young? Come, let us make an end of the heavy-villain-and-hero business. You, my dear Sedgwick, shall stand up and give the bride away. That is to say, you shall stand at your porthole. You'll find rice in a sack to scatter if you will. We want you to enjoy yourself. Don't we, Evie?" Bothwell jeered blithely.
"You devil from hell!"
"Pooh! Be reasonable, man. We can't both marry the maid, and by your leave I think the best man wins. Abrupt I may be, but everyKatherineis the better for herPetruchio." He turned to her, dropping his irony for tones of curt command. "I'll be back in twenty minutes with the parson. Be ready then."
With that he turned on his heel and left, locking the door behind him.