Red Rose remained in port for a week. Wyndham needed a stay and fastenings for the new bowsprit, and although the Welsh ship-chandler could supply him with galvanized iron articles he sent to Southampton for copper. Marston thought this curious, but Harry was fastidious about the boat and for use in salt water copper was better than iron. The party, however, was not bored. Porth Gwynedd, with its small slate houses standing between the clear, green water and the quarries that scarred the face of a hill, was picturesque. The breeze was light and warm, and sunshine sparkled on the sea. They went fishing, swam about a sheltered cove, and climbed the rocks. Wyndham's mood was cheerful and Flora was content. She thought Harry was recovering from the strain; a rest was all he needed and she was glad she had persuaded him to make the cruise.
When the new bowsprit was fitted they set off again along the coast and stopped at another rock-bound port. A summer hotel stood by a cove outside the little town, and a day or two after their arrival Marston and Wyndham lounged on the terrace by the water at the end of the lawn. The spot was sheltered by a tall cliff, and a thick shrubbery ran between the grass and terrace. Flora and Mabel occupied a bench in a nook cut out of the thick foliage.The sun was hot, and all was very quiet but for the drowsy splash of water on the rocks and the intermittent rustle of leaves.
"I like this spot," said Flora. "I have enjoyed the cruise. There's something about the sea that soothes one."
"Do you need soothing?" Mabel asked.
Flora smiled, a rather thoughtful smile. "Not in a way. I've good grounds for being satisfied; but I had begun to get disturbed about Harry. He works too hard. No doubt he's forced to bother about his business, but he looked thin and was sometimes moody."
"He has done too much," Mabel agreed. "Bob tells me things are going remarkably well for Wyndhams'. All the same, I expect it has cost Harry some effort."
"Harry does not grudge the effort," said Flora. "I grudge it for him. It was mainly for my sake he went abroad and overtaxed his strength in an unhealthy climate in order to make Wyndhams' prosperous." She stopped and looked up, knitting her brows. "Here is the little man I saw on board the steamer! I wonder what he wants."
Mabel studied the man who crossed the lawn. She remembered that she had seen him at Flora's wedding. His face was yellow and wrinkled, and although he wore light summer clothes made in the latest English fashion there was something foreign about him. He went towards the shrubbery with quick resolute steps.
"It's Peters, somebody Bob and Harry met abroad," Mabel remarked. "No doubt he's looking for them; they're on the terrace not far off."
"It's strange, but I feel I'd sooner he hadn't come," said Flora with a frown.
The man vanished behind the shrubs and a few moments afterwards Wyndham, lighting a cigarette on the terrace, dropped the match.
"Peters!" he exclaimed.
"Hallo!" said Marston, who turned and gave the newcomer an unfriendly glance. "We didn't expect you."
Peters sat down on a bench. "All the same, I have followed you along the coast for a week. Felt I needed a change after my adventures with the exploring party, which I dare say you heard about. Business was slack, and I had a dispute with my employers. I resolved to give up my post, caught a Royal Mail boat, and here I am."
"I don't see why you followed us," said Marston, coldly.
"Then I must explain. Some time since, I suggested your giving me a partnership. The plan has some extra advantages now."
"The advantages are not very obvious," Marston rejoined.
"Let me state them," said Peters, coolly. "The back country behind the lagoon is disturbed; there are indications that the negroes and half-breeds mean to rebel and Ramon Larrinaga is resolved to put them down. It's possible he may do so, but I doubt."
"I don't know if this is much of an argument for our extending our business in the neighborhood. But why do you doubt Don Ramon's ability to keep order?"
"It's an argument for your putting a man whoknows the country in control. If a rebellion breaks out, there will be opportunities for business such as one seldom gets; that is, if the situation's cleverly handled. But we'll let this go in the meantime. Larrinaga has a cunning antagonist who is much stronger than he thinks."
"You mean the Bat?"
Peters nodded. "I expect you have heard about the black Napoleon who founded a negro state in the Antilles? Well, it's not impossible the Bat will make himself as powerful as the other."
"Ridiculous!" said Marston. "Such things can't be done again; the times have changed."
"I wonder whether Wyndham thinks it ridiculous. He's better informed than you," Peters said meaningly.
Marston turned to Wyndham, but he said nothing. His face was set and he looked as if he tried to brace himself.
"You had an example of the Bat's power not long since," Peters went on. "My exploring companions were poisoned, but not before the tropical diseases man had made some interesting discoveries. Although the swamp-belt is unhealthy, malarial fever is not so common as some people think. In fact, it does not account for all the fatal sickness."
"Yet strangers die from fever and among the half-breeds the mortality is large."
"That is so," Peters agreed. "All the same, my notion is, it's better to study Obeah than medicine, and, if you want to enjoy good health, cultivate the friendship of the Bat. He knows how to get rid of people he disapproves."
"The brute ought to be shot! However, I don't see what this has got to do with our giving you a share in our business."
"I think your partner sees," said Peters, meaningly, and Wyndham advanced a few steps with his fist clenched. His eyes shone and the veins on his forehead swelled; but when Marston thought he would seize the other he stopped a yard or two off.
"How much do you know?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
"Nearly all, I think," Peters replied, and turned to Marston. "The Bat is clever and knows how to use the natural products of the swamps. In fact, I imagine some of his discoveries would surprise our doctors. He cannot, however, make all he needs, and somebody has supplied him with arms and cartridges, besides chemicals and drugs in use in civilized countries. It's sometimes an advantage to cure your friends as well as destroy your antagonists, and the power of an up-to-date Obeah man is not altogether founded on magic."
"Who has supplied him?" Marston asked, with strange and horrible misgivings.
Peters smiled. "You were very dull for some time, but I think you begin to see. Well, I suppose you can comfort yourself with the reflection that when you shared the profit you didn't know how it was earned."
Marston turned and struggled for control when he saw Wyndham's face. The sweat stood on the latter's forehead and he shrank from his comrade's glance.
"Is this true, Harry?" Marston asked. "Have we been backing that devilish mulatto?"
"You know now," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "It looks as if you had got a nasty knock. I'd hoped you would not find out."
Marston tried to pull himself together. He must be calm, but calm was hard. Peters gave him a mocking smile.
"There's something yet. The Bat is not a mulatto."
"Not a mulatto?" said Marston dully. "What is he then?"
"A white man. If you're not satisfied, ask your partner. He knows him best."
"Who is the Bat, Harry?"
"Rupert Wyndham," Wyndham answered and turned his head.
For a moment or two Marston said nothing, and then his lethargy vanished. Horror gave way to fury and he clenched his hand as he turned to Peters.
"You have shot your bolt and missed," he said. "You're a cunning brute, but all the same a fool. Now get off, or I'll throw you over the wall."
Peters hesitated. His surprise was plain, and Wyndham's tense face softened to a grim smile. Peters had not reckoned on Bob. The latter advanced upon him threateningly.
"Did you think you could blackmail us?" he resumed with a hoarse laugh. "That we'd take you for a partner in order to keep you silent while we got rich? The thing's ridiculous! Now you begin to understand this, aren't you going?"
Peters said nothing and went. His mistake was obvious; he might have forced Wyndham to accept his terms, but he had misjudged Marston. When hehad gone, Marston sat down, rather limply, and there was silence for a few minutes.
"Well?" said Wyndham at length.
Marston looked up. "I have got a knock, but the thing's done and there's no use in calling myself a careless fool. For all that, I ought to have seen what was going on; I'm a partner in the house."
"And if you had seen?" Wyndham asked.
"I'd have stopped the business and brought you away."
"It's possible. You're a resolute fellow, Bob. But what are you going to do about it now?"
"Put things straight; as far as money can put them straight," said Marston, quietly. "The cost doesn't matter. It's lucky I am rich."
"Then you don't mean to break the partnership and give me up?"
"Certainly not," said Marston in a surprised voice. "We are partners for good and bad, and Mabel is Flora's friend. When we started for Africa, she told me my job was to stand by you."
Wyndham laughed, a bitter laugh. "It looks as if I didn't cheat Mabel when I cheated all the rest. But you had better let me go before your staunchness costs you too much."
"I'm going to stick to you," Marston declared. "I undertook the job; there's no more to be said." He paused and resumed quietly: "How did you get into Rupert Wyndham's power?"
Wyndham's grimness vanished. He looked embarrassed and moved. "You're a very good sort, Bob. I don't know if I did get into his power; anyhow, not at first. I rather think ambition carried meaway. You have not known poverty; I doubt if you'll understand."
"I'll try," said Marston, and Wyndham went on:
"The house was bankrupt when I got control, and I was in love with Flora. Perhaps you think it was dishonorable to tell her so. Well, I haven't your scruples and we Wyndhams like a risk. The worst was, I let her run a risk she didn't know. We met the Bat at the lagoon and he showed me how I could get rich. He knew me; I didn't know him at the beginning. Can't you see the situation? I'd won the girl I loved, but I must support my wife. I couldn't force her to bear hardship because she loved me, and, for her sake, I must satisfy her friends. Well, I saw and seized my chance, and almost before I knew I'd gone so far I could not draw back."
"Did you want to draw back?" Marston asked.
Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "You're cleverer than people think, Bob. Sometimes I was sorry I had begun, but I imagine I would not have stopped if I could. I meant to get rich; to give Flora a high place, and—though the statement looks ironical—to justify myself. Well, I went on until bad luck sent Peters to pull me up."
Marston pondered for a moment or two. "Now I understand why the witches inMacbethmade me think about the Bat; they tempted him with lying promises. But I'm not much of a philosopher and we have the Bat to reckon on. Peters doesn't count."
"Doesn't he count?" Wyndham asked.
"Not at all," said Marston. "When he told me his secret, he lost the power to bully you. The fellow's a fool; he thought me greedy."
"But he can tell others, Larrinaga, for example."
"That's not important," said Marston quietly. "We don't want to earn more money by helping the Bat. We're going to put things straight, and if Larrinaga's government has a just claim on us, we must pay."
"After all, the Bat's my uncle," Wyndham remarked.
"Yes," said Marston. "It complicates things. We must go out again and get him away."
"Get him away? The man is powerful. I doubt if the government can put him down."
"For all that we're going to try."
"You're an obstinate fellow, Bob. We'll talk about it again. There is somebody else Peters might tell."
"Flora? He'll be too late. You must tell her now."
For a moment or two Wyndham's mouth set firm and the sweat stood on his forehead. Then he said quietly, "It will be a hard job, desperately hard; all the same, I suppose it can't be put off. Rupert Wyndham and the powers he stands for have cheated me, but I must pay."
Marston made a sign of agreement. "When you have paid, you're free, and can begin again."
Then he turned and saw Flora in the narrow path between the bushes. Her face was white, but her eyes were gentle when she looked at him. "Thank you, Bob! We owe you much," she said.
Marston pulled himself together and gave her a friendly smile. Then he touched Wyndham's arm, as if to encourage him, and left them alone.
When Marston had gone Flora sat down on the bench. She was pale and trembled. Wyndham, looking very grim, leaned against the wall. They were quiet for a moment or two, and then he asked:
"How much did you hear?"
"I heard enough," said Flora, with an effort for calm. "I don't understand it all, but I must understand. I heard Bob's voice, sharp and angry, and came to see if you were quarreling with the strange little man. Then I stopped where the shrubs are thick. Perhaps I oughtn't——"
"It doesn't matter," Wyndham replied. "Bob urged that you must be told and I think I meant to tell you anyhow. When one is found out, it's better to plead guilty. Well, what do you want to know?"
Flora turned her head. His stern coldness hurt. She thought he feared her judgment would be merciless. Harry did not know her yet.
"Well?" he said again.
"I must know all. You helped the man they call the Bat? You sent him goods he needed; drugs among other things, although you knew he would use some to poison people and make the superstitious negroes think him a magician?"
"Yes," said Wyndham. "At least, I gave him drugs. I don't altogether know how he used the stuff."
"He poisoned the explorers who went into the bush."
"It's possible," said Wyndham. "I think that's all."
"Still you knew he was cunning and cruel. You knew he killed people who wouldn't obey him and he used magic."
"I don't know much about Voodoo and can't state if it's magic or tricks. However, I imagine the Bat did use it against people who disputed his rule."
"He gave you valuable goods; you were getting rich," Flora resumed. Then she paused and added in a gentler voice: "He gave you pearls; but you sent me none, although Bob brought some for Mabel. You said they were unlucky."
"It looks as if I was a romantic sentimentalist. Anyhow, I didn't want you to wear pearls I got from the Bat."
"Yet you were willing to trade with him! You gave him your support!"
"I did," said Wyndham grimly. "For a tempting price. Now my luck has turned and I won't get the price. My reward has vanished when it was in my hands. Nothing is left."
Flora pondered. In a sense, she thought he exaggerated, because much was left. All the same, she was glad he had been cheated and the reward for his wrongdoing had gone. He might have wanted to keep it, and her refusal to share it might have separated them. Still she would not think about this yet. She must break down his stern calm and much depended on the line she took.
"You misjudged me and perhaps that accountedfor your giving way," she said. "You thought I hadn't pluck enough to marry you when you were poor? My dear, I loved you and knew you were not rich!"
"You hadn't known poverty. There was another thing; your father made stipulations and of course he was justified. I was forced to satisfy him and your friends. Would you have liked them to pity you for a romantic fool whom a common adventurer had carried away?"
"Ah," said Flora, "you didn't know my friends much better than you know me! Mabel's my friend and she let her lover go away. I think it hurt Bob when he found out what you had done; but has he turned from you?"
Wyndham said nothing and she resumed: "However, all this is not important now. You can't go on. What are you going to do?"
"It looks as if Bob had made some plans for me. I don't know yet if I'll consent. My plan is simpler and would save him trouble and risk. It depends on you if I carry it out."
Flora gave him a quick glance, for his manner was baffling. He looked stern and his mouth was set.
"How does it depend on me?" she asked.
"I cheated you and your father and you have found me out. You know how deep in the mud I've gone and it wouldn't be strange if you thought I might go deeper. I expect you have lost all trust in me. Well, if the shock's too great, you must give me up. I'll drop out, vanish like my uncle, and trouble you no more."
Flora laughed, a hoarse, emotional laugh that shook her and brought the blood to her skin.
"You thought I would give you up? You have been afraid of this since you saw Peters at the church and you dropped the ring? Oh, but you are very dull! I love you and it was for my sake you did wrong. Well, I am not afraid to share the punishment. If I could save you, I'd bear it all. The thing that hurts is, you doubted if I was brave enough."
"I knew your pluck; you gave me proof when you married me. For all that, I knew your hatred of shabbiness and wrong. I'm an unsuccessful criminal."
"All the same you are my husband," said Flora quietly.
Wyndham looked hard at her and hesitated.
"My dear," he said, "I cannot urge this claim. It would hurt less to leave you than try to keep you if you shrank."
"Then you doubt me yet?"
"No. I'm ashamed and humbled. I don't know what I ought to do, or what I ought to say."
"There is not much to be said, but it is difficult. Come here, Harry, and give me your hand. One hates to talk like a moralizing prig and it does no good; but you have gone down hill for me and I want to help you back."
Wyndham came to the bench and she took his hand in hers. "I am your wife and will not let you go," she went on. "Still you must give up the money you have earned and put straight the harm you have done. It doesn't matter if this makes us poor.I can go without much you have given me. I'd be glad to go without!"
"Ah," he said with strong emotion, "I didn't know you, Flora! Although you hate my offense, you mean to stick to me?"
"My dear! I expect the temptation was very strong and at the beginning you did not know all you did. It was rather horrible to help a renegade outcast to plot against civilized rule and try to put in its place superstitious cruelty. But that's done with. We must think how we can make good."
"I can't make good at my cost. You and Bob must pay, and I cheated Bob."
"Bob will bear you no grudge and I want to help."
"Very well," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "You have given me a chance I don't deserve to get straight again, and I'd be a meaner brute than I am if I let it go." He got up and his face was very resolute. "Now I'll look for Bob."
He went off and Flora, although badly shaken, was satisfied. She had saved her husband from the Bat and from himself. He had not protested much; on the whole he had been reserved and cold, but she knew he was moved and one could trust him when he looked like that. She began to feel comforted and get back her calm. The soft splash of languid waves on the rocks beyond the terrace was soothing. Except for this, all was very quiet and the quietness steadied her.
By-and-by she heard a step, and looking up, saw Peters had come back. He smiled, but his smile was cruel and she shrank from him with a quick half-conscious movement. Peters took off his hat.
"Mrs. Wyndham, I believe?" he said.
"I am Mrs. Wyndham," Flora replied. "What do you want?"
"A few minutes' talk. I imagine you will be interested."
Flora hated him. He knew Harry's offense and meant to use his power; perhaps to demand money and perhaps for revenge. He had power, but since she and Bob knew Harry's guilt, not as much as he thought. She wanted to make him feel the scorn and loathing he excited. All the same, she might find out something useful if she led him on. He was an unscrupulous antagonist and she meant to fight for her husband. She made a vague sign of agreement and Peters sat down on some steps in the terrace wall.
"Your father holds an important post and your friends are well-known people," he began. "I expect you value their rather exclusive society."
"What has this to do with you?" Flora asked.
Peters made a deprecating gesture. "Wyndhams' has now some standing on the exchange; the house's credit is pretty good, and people are beginning to think your husband a clever business man. Wyndham is clever, but for a man to build up a business he must be known for something else. If he wants to command people's trust, he must keep certain rules."
"I suppose that is so," Flora agreed with forced carelessness.
"Very well," said Peters. "I'm afraid Wyndhams' new prosperity rests on an unsafe foundation. A statement about their trade on the Caribbean would shake it badly; in fact, I doubt if the house would stand the shock. A merchant must enjoy his customers' confidence and confidence is soon destroyed."
"You imply you could destroy the confidence people have in Wyndhams'?"
"It is possible. For all that, I hesitate— You see, you, and to some extent Commodore Chisholm, would be involved in your husband's fall. But I needn't labor this. You know how prosperous conventional people treat friends who lose their place."
Flora struggled for calm, but her eyes flashed and the blood came to her skin.
"Oh," she said, forgetting the part she meant to play, "you want a bribe? Money to be silent? You could not rob my husband, so you came to me! You think I am weaker and you can work on my fears?"
"It looks as if he had told you something," Peters remarked coolly. "I do not think he has told you all."
There was a step on the path behind them and as Flora turned Marston advanced. His face was red and very grim. Bob was generally calm, but he was savage now.
"Suppose you leave the thing to me? I saw the fellow coming here," he said to Flora, and stopped in front of Peters. "You haven't gone yet? I had some trouble to get rid of you before, and don't mean to be bothered by you again. This is the last annoyance you will give us."
Moving forward deliberately, he seized the other and swung him off his feet. Peters was short and light, for fever had worn him thin; Marston was big and powerful. He got a good hold where the other's clothes were slack, and lifting him with a strong effort, went up the steps. Peters kicked and struggled. Marston gasped and when his hat fell off Floralaughed. She was moved by a reaction after the strain. When Marston reached the top step he held Peters over the edge of the wall.
"The tide's low," he said hoarsely, with obvious disappointment. "I was going to throw you into the water."
"If you drop me, somebody would find me on the rocks," Peters replied in a breathless voice, and Flora tried to stop her wild laughter. Her control was vanishing and the scene was ludicrous. Peters had looked grotesque while he wriggled in Bob's grasp and now his coolness supplied a last touch of grim humor.
"I don't know if it's worth while to go to jail for you and perhaps it's not," Marston gasped. He put Peters down and shook him savagely. "For a blackmailer, you're a poor sort of fool. Can't you see yet how you've muddled things? You can't tell Mrs. Wyndham more than she knows, and I won't pay you to tell nobody else. You'll get no bribe for letting Wyndhams' carry on the lagoon trade, because the trade has stopped for good. It ought to be obvious that your hold on us has gone and now you're going too."
He paused and seizing Peter's shoulders turned him round and half pushed and half threw him across the terrace. Peters fell into a clump of shrubs, and getting up, stole away in silence. Then Marston turned to Flora.
"Sorry! I expect you don't approve, but I felt I must let myself go. When people make me think about that confounded lagoon I get savage."
"I do approve," said Flora, trying to be calm. "Perhaps it wasn't really humorous, but I was forcedto laugh. Did you meet Harry? He went to look for you."
"No," said Marston. "I want to see him, and after this little exploit expect you'll be glad to get rid of me. However, I think you have got rid of the other fellow."
He found Wyndham writing a letter in the hotel smoking-room, and sitting down opposite, waited until he looked up.
"I suppose you told Flora all about it," Marston remarked.
"I did. Your advice was good."
"It was better than I thought. If you had waited, Peters would have given her his story before she knew yours. I found him trying to begin it a few minutes since."
"Ah," said Wyndham, "it looks as if I had run some risk! After all, I don't know." He paused and resumed with emotion: "I admitted everything, but she trusts me yet; I think she would have trusted me had I put my confession off. It's strange, but I didn't know how staunch my wife is. We'll let this go. What did you do with Peters?"
Marston laughed. "I came near to throwing him over the wall. Held him over the edge and wanted to let him drop; but the brute suggested that somebody would find him on the rocks. I saw the force of this, because the consequences would have been awkward now we have a big job on hand. It's plain that you will need me."
"I do need you. It's lucky I have such a partner. I've got to make restitution and can't do so at my proper cost. Yet I've no claim; I cheated you, as Icheated my wife. I'm an unsuccessful rogue and didn't let my scruples bother me until I was found out."
"That's sentimental extravagance," Marston said with some embarrassment. "Anyhow, I am your partner and your responsibilities are mine. I don't disown my debts."
"The debts are heavy. I ran them up, without your knowing."
"We can pay," said Marston, smiling. "It won't break us; I'm pretty rich and mean to see you out. You can count on my help and my money; in fact, on all I can give. Now that's done with. There's no more to be said."
Wyndham gave him a quick, grateful glance. "Thanks! You're rash, but I must try not to disappoint you. Friendship like yours is rare."
When Marston went off, he sat for a time, looking straight in front. He felt slack and strangely humbled, but was conscious of a new resolve. Although he had gone far down hill, it was, perhaps, not too late to stop. The climb back would be long and hard; he could never reach his wife's and his friend's level. All the same, he meant to front the ascent. They had borne much for him, he must, so far as he was able, try to repay them.
The smoking-room of the Marine Hotel at Carmeltown was crowded with yachtsmen on the evening after the channel regatta. Marston and Wyndham occupied a small table, the former trying to read a newspaper while the latter looked about. The big room echoed with voices, a haze of tobacco smoke drifted round the pillars, and now and then a peal of laughter marked the end of an Irish yachtsman's tale. For all that, Wyndham's face was rather grim, and Marston, looking up by-and-by, thought he was brooding.
"Hallo! Here's Elliot," he exclaimed. "S'pose he came across on the mailboat. I heard her whistle not long since. Thought he was going to stop and see if they could salveDeva. Anyhow, I'd like to hear about the collision and it looks as if he was making for us."
"Yes," said Wyndham. "I imagine he wants to see me."
Elliot crossed the floor, stopping now and then when somebody spoke to him, and after a time reached Marston's table, where he sat down.
"I've been trying to get to you for some minutes, but the Irishmen wouldn't let me pass. The news of my bad luck soon got across," he remarked.
"We didn't get much news," said Marston. "What about the boat?"
"She's gone; cut down to the bilge and sunk in six fathoms. No chance of salvage and the navigation board is going to blow her up."
Marston said he was sorry and asked about the collision.
"To begin with, I want a drink," said Elliot, who called a waiter and then resumed: "It was dark and hazy, and we were creeping up to the anchorage at Kingstown with all sail set. I was at the tiller, but the wind was very light and she would hardly steer; the tide was carrying her along. Jevons, looking out under the boom, said he saw a steamer's lights, but just then I heard a North-Wall boat in the fog. You know the noise they make when they're steaming fast, and the fog's pretty bad when those boats slow up. I knew she wasn't far off when I saw her lights; red, white, and green all together. That meant we had to do something quick."
Marston nodded. When a steamer's three lights are seen she is heading direct for the observer.
"Our flare wasn't handy, and the first match broke," Elliot resumed. "Reckon I was awkward and not very cool. However, I got a light and it was a relief when her whistle indicated that she was changing her course; but while I was fumbling with the matches I forgot the other boat. So did Jevons; he owned it afterwards. The North-Wall man went past us, like a train, lights all over the passenger decks and a four-foot wave rolling off the bows. She left us dazzled and rather shaken, and then Jevons shouted that the other fellow was close ahead."
Elliot stopped and drained his glass, and when he went on his voice was hoarse. "We were crossing her bows, close-hauled on the starboard tack. Our business, of course, was to carry on, but our lights were low and not very bright, and as a rule, it's prudent to give a steamer room. Anyhow, I shoved down the helm to bring her round, and told Jevons to get out the big oar when I found her slow. The wind was light and she was plunging on the North-Wall boat's wake. She came headto, and then a roller hit her bows and she fell off. Jevons was trying to pull her round, and for two or three moments I saw the steamer's forecastle. She was a big, clumsy craft, going light, and looked as high as a house.
"Then there was a crash and the mast went. I saw our side deck crumble and the other's stem cut through to the cabin top. Mast and boom were over the side, and when the round of her bow filled our cockpit I knew it was time to go. By good luck, we had towed the dinghy and the steamer held upDevauntil we got on board. Then as we cut the painter the old boat broke away, and the steamer went on, over the top of her. I imagine she stopped, because we heard her whistle in the fog, but we'd had enough of her and pulled for the beach. We landed at Kingstown, and I think that's all."
Marston sympathized and ordered drinks. Elliot drained his glass and turned to Wyndham.
"Well," he said, "she was insured and I want another boat. What's your price forRed Rose?"
"Red Roseis not for sale," Marston interposed.
"Then why did Forwood tell me you wanted an offer?"
Marston looked at Wyndham, who nodded. "It's all right, Bob; I'm going to sell." Then he turned to Elliot and stated a sum.
"A moderate price!" the other remarked. "I'll admit it's less than I thought. Is she sound?"
"She is not," Wyndham replied. "Port side's weak where the strain of the rigging comes; she needs some new timbers. The covering board ought to be relaid all round. Keel's shaky aft; the deadwood ought to be lifted——"
He indicated the repairs he thought necessary and Elliot looked at him with surprise.
"Since you want to sell, aren't you taking a rather unusual line?"
Wyndham smiled. "I allowed for defects when I fixed the price. The carpenter's job will be expensive, but if it's properly done, the boat will afterwards be nearly as good as new. I think you can rely on this."
Marston gave his partner a puzzled glance and Elliot said, "After your frankness, I'll buy her and take my chance."
"I imagine it's a safe investment," Wyndham rejoined.
For a few moments Elliot was quiet and then he fixed his eyes on Wyndham and said in a thoughtful voice, "Red Roseis fast and you sailed her cleverly. All the same, I never understood how you beat us when you won the Commodore's cup."
"I imagine I went the wrong side of the Knoll buoy," Wyndham answered coolly. "Perhaps this gave us some advantage, because the tide runs longer near the coast."
Marston moved abruptly, but Wyndham went on: "I'm not certain; but if you had filed a protest, I wouldn't have claimed the prize. Bob thought he saw something in the haze. It might have been a gull, but it might have been the buoy. Anyhow, we went on and the tide carried us along the shore."
The short silence that followed had a hint of strain. Wyndham knew Elliot knew his winning the race had appealed to Flora's imagination. Moreover, he thought Elliot had wanted to marry Flora and would have had Chisholm's support. Marston saw they had got on awkward ground, and felt embarrassed.
"After all you did beat us and you were not sure it was the buoy," Elliot said, in a quiet, meaning voice. "It's too late to file a protest now. Besides, we were talking about the boat——"
"I'll put her on the hard, if you'd like a proper survey before you decide."
"No," said Elliot. "I don't think it's needful. Your statement satisfied me. I'll buy her."
He went off and Wyndham gave Marston a smile. "You look surprised, Bob."
"Let's have another drink," said Marston, who called a waiter and then resumed awkwardly: "Elliot played up pretty well. I like the fellow; he's a sportsman, but after all I think it was a gull we saw. Anyhow, we won't bother about it again. Why have you soldRed Rose?"
"It ought to be obvious. A yacht costs something and my keeping an expensive toy wouldn't be justified just now."
"Romantic exaggeration! You're frankly ridiculous," said Marston with some warmth. "Wyndhams' isn't going broke."
Wyndham picked up the newspaper and indicated an advertisement. "I really think I'm logical. Perhaps, this ought to persuade you I've made up my mind."
"Preposterous!" Marston exclaimed, throwing down the paper. "Your pretty new house? Besides, it's Flora's house as well as yours!"
"Flora agrees," said Wyndham quietly.
Marston got up and his face was red. "Looks as if you don't mean to let me help much. It's senseless exaggeration; things aren't as bad as you make out. However, I've had enough. I'll get angry if I stay."
"You ought to approve; I imagined you liked a thorough job," Wyndham rejoined, and Marston frowned as he crossed the floor.
Men spoke to him as he passed their tables, but he did not stop and going to the drawing-room found Flora alone. When he came in she put down her book and indicated an easy chair.
"Stop and talk to me, Bob. I was beginning to feel neglected," she said. "But what has happened? You look annoyed."
"I am rather savage," Marston admitted. "Think I'll stand until I get cool. Do you know Harry has soldRed Rose?"
"I knew he wanted to sell her," Flora said quietly.
"This is not all. D'you know about the ridiculous advertisement he's put in the newspaper?"
"Of course! I don't altogether see why you are surprised."
Marston hesitated. He did not want to admit he had been surprised, and, after studying Flora thought he could not urge that Wyndham's reformation might be overdone.
"Anyhow, you can see why I'm annoyed," he said. "I'm Harry's partner and am going to marry your oldest friend."
"I have not forgotten this and it helps me to be frank. You're generous, Bob, but Harry has done wrong and must pay. He cannot make good at another's cost."
"The trouble is,youmust pay. Your house, for example! You planned it, you worked out all the colors, and thought where everything ought to go. The house is beautiful, you're proud of it, and a woman's home means much to her."
Flora turned her head for a moment, but when she looked up again her eyes shone.
"I would sooner be proud of my husband. I am proud now and am going to be prouder. Harry has pluck and meeting obstacles spurs him on. Our part is to encourage him, while he struggles up hill. I know he'll reach the top."
"With a wife like you, he ought to go far," said Marston quietly. "I'm sorry you won't let me help in the way I want, but s'pose I must agree. Don't know if I'm romantic, but I've felt the world's a better place since I knew you and Mabel."
He went off and soon afterwards Chisholm came in, carrying a newspaper.
"What does this mean?" he asked, indicating an advertisement. "Telford showed me the paper. Wanted to know why you were selling the house. Icouldn't tell him. Is Harry getting rich so fast that it isn't big enough?"
Flora smiled. "The story's rather long, but I think you must be told. If we stay here, somebody may come in. Let's go to the breakwater."
She got her hat and crossing a street they reached a long granite wall that ran out to sea. The languid swell beat against the massive, dovetailed blocks, the moon was rising above the gray hills, and when they had passed the landing place there was nobody about. By-and-by Chisholm indicated a mooring post and, when Flora sat down, leaned against the granite parapet.
"My dear," he said, "I've been puzzled recently; had a notion something was wrong. For all that, Wyndhams' was obviously prosperous, Harry's an indulgent husband, and I wouldn't own I'd grounds for bothering, until I saw this advertisement. Well, sometimes it's rash to meddle, but I'm anxious. Tell me all you can."
Flora told him and after she stopped he was quiet for a time. The moonlight touched his face and she saw the lines get deeper. The old Commodore was deeply moved, but she was glad he did not look stern.
"I've got a knock and know how you were hurt. You bear it well," he said. "To some extent, the fault is mine. When Harry wanted to marry you I doubted but gave way. I ought to have been firm."
"You are not accountable," Flora replied. "I wanted you to approve, but I meant to marry Harry. I loved him, though I knew his drawbacks. But this doesn't matter; I love him now."
Chisholm looked at her with knitted brows and she saw he was suffering for her sake.
"You are very staunch, but I knew this. You say Harry means to make reparation. Now he's found out, his repentance is strangely thorough."
"You must not be bitter," said Flora quietly.
"Very well. Let's be practical. Your husband's job will be hard and long. He must carry his load, but part will fall on you. It's already doing so."
"That is just. Much of the fault was mine. I trusted Harry, and after all I trust him better; but at the beginning this was not enough. I wanted you and our friends to know him; to own he had talent and see my pride in him was founded well. In a way, it was a mean ambition. I wanted him to get rich. Not because I'm greedy——"
"I think I understand," Chisholm remarked. "Perhaps we use the money standard oftener than we ought. It's not high, but all the same, to earn money demands some useful qualities." He paused and added with a sigh: "I am poor and know."
"You are a dear! Your honesty is worth much more money than you could have earned. Then you're not hard, as some honest people are. You will not be hard to Harry now he is trying to make amends?"
"Far from it! What right have I to hurt a broken man?"
Flora smiled. "Harry is bruised, but not broken. Then, you see, I made his temptation stronger. When I ought to have held him back I half-consciously urged him on. It was for my sake he broke rules we try tokeep, and I mustn't grumble if some of his punishment falls on me."
"After all, you did not know what you did."
"I ought to have known; I am his wife. But I think you understand, and there's no more to be said."
Chisholm got up. "A nasty knock, but we can bear it. You have pluck and one can't be beaten when one is not afraid."
They went back silently and near the end of the wall met Wyndham going to the landing steps. Chisholm stopped and gave him his hand.
"Flora has told me all," he said. "Your friends will stand by you."
Red reflections trembled on the sea, a fringe of languid surf broke along the beach, and as the liner turned a point, a white town that rose in terraces, glimmered like a pearl. A yellow flag ran up to the masthead, the throb of engines slowed, and a noisy launch steamed out from behind the mole. Marston, leaning on the rail, watched her approach, and his look was thoughtful when he turned to Wyndham.
"If Don Ramon got our telegram, he's probably on board," he said. "I hope he is, because if he doesn't come it might imply he means to make things difficult for us. He could if he liked."
"Larrinaga will come," Wyndham replied. "From all accounts, he's a pretty good officer, but I don't expect he neglects his interests while he looks after the State's. I'm counting on this."
"I s'pose one mustn't be fastidious, but I don't want to get involved in fresh intrigue. The job we've undertaken is awkward enough."
"Very awkward," Wyndham agreed, with some dryness. "In a way, it looks too big for us. To begin with, we have got to pay duties we dodged, and satisfy the Government we cheated. Then, without exciting the latter's curiosity, we're going to stop arebellion and carry off its leader. There's the worst puzzle. The fellow's cunning and powerful. Moreover, he's my uncle."
He stopped, for the engines clanked noisily as the screw turned astern; then the anchor splashed and the launch swung in to the gangway. The port doctor came on board and after him a man in tight-fitting American clothes. His wide black belt was spun from the finest silk and Marston noted his hat. Indians had woven the delicate material under running water; presidents and dictators wore hats like that, and none of the few produced were sent to Europe. It was obvious that Señor Larrinaga was now a man of importance.
"You sent for me," he said, with a bow.
"The steamer goes on in the morning," Wyndham replied. "We hesitated about landing and calling, for fear we might trespass on your time. By sending a telegram we left you free to refuse. If you are not much occupied, I hope you'll dine on board."
Larrinaga said he was willing and after a time they went to the saloon. For the most part, the passengers had landed and only three or four occupied the tables. By-and-by the others went out and Wyndham opened a fresh bottle of Italian wine. A steward turned on the electric light and soft reflections fell on colored glass and polished wood. Beads of damp sparkled on the white-and-gold ceiling, although the skylights were open and a throbbing fan made a cool draught about the table. Footsteps echoed along the deck and when the steamer rolled the water gurgled about her side, but it was quiet in the saloon. By-and-by Larrinaga put down his glass.
"One likes to meet one's friends, but I do not know if this alone is why you sent for me," he said. "If it is not, you see your servant!"
Wyndham bowed. "We value your friendship and particularly your honesty and tact. There is a matter we thought you might arrange for us."
"If it is possible; but you must be moderate. One is watched and criticized as one rises in rank, and it is difficult to allow one's friends exclusive privileges. To grant too many robs the Government."
"We want to make the Government richer," Wyndham replied. "In fact, we propose to give you a sum that ought to have been paid, in smaller amounts, before. You will, no doubt, be able to hand it to the proper officer, without our being bothered by awkward formalities."
Larrinaga looked at him with puzzled surprise. "In this country one pays when one is forced, and the Government is generally paid last of all. One seldom gives money for which one is not asked."
"We do not mean to rob your Government and my partner is rich enough to be honest," said Wyndham, smiling. "You have no customs officer at the lagoon, and we found on studying our accounts that some duties had not been paid."
"Proper copies of your cargo manifests ought to have been sent the officer at the port where your vessel's clearance papers were stamped."
"I think the manifests were sent, but now and then we got cargo at the last moment as we were going to sea. Besides, the officer was a friend of ours——"
Larrinaga filled his glass, and while he pondered Wyndham lighted a cigarette. The matter neededcareful handling. It was plain that Larrinaga's surprise had gone and he was cautious.
"Then you propose to give me the money you ought to have paid?" the latter presently remarked.
"Yes," said Wyndham. "We are traders and must get on with our business, while the officer we knew has given up his post. If we write to his successor, we must comply with numerous formalities, and a stranger would insist on knowing why we did not pay at the proper time. Well, if you take the money, I expect you can straighten things out."
Larrinaga looked hard at him, and Wyndham smiled. He imagined the fellow was not honester than other government officials he had met on the Caribbean. Larrinaga knew it was in his power to keep back as much of the sum as he liked for his private use and would, no doubt, do so. In fact, the fellow would imagine he was offered a bribe. Since one does not give bribes for nothing, Wyndham must hint that he had an object, and the hint must be plausible.
"Then you expect no particular privileges?" Larrinaga remarked.
"Oh, no," said Wyndham. "All we want is to carry on our business without the small officials bothering us. We are not smugglers, but we would not like the vessel stopped if a manifest now and then is not properly made up. One must go in and out when the tide serves, and sometimes we do not know what goods we have on board until we check the tallies when we get to sea. If we find we have cheated the customs, you can trust us to put things straight.Only, we would sooner deal with somebody important; yourself, for example."
Larrinaga's eyes twinkled. "Very well. I think I can promise you will not be bothered much." He paused, and resumed in a thoughtful voice: "I expect you know your trading at the lagoon just now may lead to trouble?"
"All trade is troublesome, particularly when it is carried on in the mangrove swamps," Marston interposed. "The lagoon is not much worse than other spots. Anyhow, the profits are large and we must earn some money."
"But Señor Wyndham stated that you are rich."
"Rich people are sometimes greedy," Marston rejoined with a touch of awkwardness. "I did not begin business with the object of losing my capital."
Wyndham thought he would leave Bob alone. Larrinaga would not suspect him of plotting and his rather obvious embarrassment was an advantage. Bob was the man one would expect to be embarrassed when engaged in trying to bribe a government officer to sanction his smuggling. For all that, Wyndham gave Larrinaga a keen glance. The latter leaned back carelessly and rolled a cigarette. His movements were firm and quick.
Don Ramon was clever and knew much about the bush. It was possible he knew Wyndham had supplied the Bat with goods and he might mean to let him do so for a time while he took his bribes, hoping to cheat both by giving them a feeling of false security. Wyndham, however, did not think Don Ramon knew the Bat was his relation; Peters knew, but he was notthe man to share a secret he had thought worth much. Although one must not altogether take this for granted, Wyndham could not see another plan.
"Very well," said Larrinaga when he had made his cigarette. "I will take your money and see you are not bothered." Then he looked hard at Wyndham. "I will give you a hint: wait until your cargo comes down and do not go far from the beach. The bush is dangerous for strangers just now."
"We heard something about this," Marston replied. "I don't like theMestizos, and if they're plotting trouble, hope you'll put them down."
"My partner has a horror of the swamps," Marston remarked with a smile. "If he was not keen to earn some money, he would not enter the lagoon. He has not joined me long and wants his friends to think he has a talent for business."
Larrinaga shrugged and got up. "The English and Americans are hard to understand. If I were rich, I would be satisfied to lounge about the plaza and now and then gamble at the casino with my friends. I would not gamble with theMestizosin the swamps. The chances are too much on the side of the banker there. Well, I wish you good luck until we meet again."
The others went with him to the gangway and when the launch steamed off Marston sat down and looked about. It had got dark but a half moon drew a sparkling track across the calm sea. Anchor lights swung languidly by the shore, and in the background the white town shone with a pale reflection against the dusky hills. Music came off across the water with the rumble of the surf, and the smooth swellsplashed softly against the vessel's side. Presently Marston turned and looked to the east.
"One feels an English steamer's a bit of England. She takes civilization and decency where she goes; but it will be different to-morrow when we boardColumbine. I wish our job was finished and we were going the other way. Anyhow, it must be finished, and I don't know if I liked the line you took. Don Ramon won't hand over all the money."
"It's possible," Wyndham agreed. "Still I think you urged that we must begin by paying the duties we had dodged."
"I wanted them paid to the Government, not to a corrupt official who thinks he's got another bribe. The duties belong to the country."
"Oh, well. I don't know a channel by which the country would get its dues. All are leaky; in fact, they are meant to leak. It's significant that official salaries are small. However, I don't expect Don Ramon is dishonester than the rest. Some of the money will go where it ought."
"Perhaps it's not important," Marston said thoughtfully. "All the same, you rather let the fellow think we wanted to smuggle."
"Smuggling's profitable. It was prudent to hint we had an object for haunting the lagoon. On the whole, I imagine a frank statement that we were trying to be honest would not have satisfied Don Ramon; one must make allowances for the other fellow's point of view. I hope he is satisfied, but I doubt."
"He is not a fool," Marston remarked. "I expect he reckons we mean to supply the Bat with things he needs to fight the Government. If he'snot altogether corrupt, why does he let us go on?"
"It's not very plain. Anyhow, I imagine he won't let us go on very long. In fact, speed's important. We must finish the job before we are stopped."
"The rebellion must be stopped," Marston agreed. "In a way, I don't care who rules the country; I expect nobody would rule it well. All the same, I'm not going to see white traders murdered and the swamp-belt given up to a cruel brute who would rule it on the African plan."
"The Bat can't start his rebellion without supplies, which we don't mean to give him," Wyndham said dryly. "Things would be easier if he were not my uncle."
Marston hesitated. "This bothers me most. D'you think Larrinaga knows?"
"I think not. Peters knows, however, and when he finds out where we've gone I expect we'll soon have him on our track. This means we must reckon on three antagonists."
"Three?" said Marston with a puzzled look.
Wyndham nodded. "I expect we'll find Rupert Wyndham the worst. However, I see one advantage; none of the three knows our plans and all theirs clash. We are not up against a combine."
"We haven't a plan," Marston objected.
"Oh, well," said Wyndham. "Since that is so we must trust our luck."
He went off and Marston smoked a cigarette and mused. He had wanted to be open and honest, but since they could not use force, he admitted reluctantly that they must intrigue. The job did not look as simple as he had thought in England; it was gettingobvious that Rupert Wyndham would be their worst antagonist. The fellow was, so to speak, no longer a white man; he was a savage with a lust for cruelty and power, but he had a white man's intelligence. To imagine he could be persuaded to give up his ambitious plans was ridiculous; he had no moral sense to which one could appeal. All the same, it was unthinkable that they should let him be captured by Larrinaga and shot.
Marston could see no light and presently threw away his cigarette and got up. The job was awkward, but he must not own he was beaten before he had begun. He would go on and trust his luck. In the meantime, he had promised to play cards with some passengers and he went to the smoking-room. They played until the electric light went out, when Marston found he had lost five pounds. It did not look as if his luck was very good.
In the morning, the steamer sailed and when she stopped again as dark fell a boat was hoisted out. High land loomed, vague and blue, against the sunset, drifting mist hid the beach, and not far off two masts and a dark hull cut against the hazy background. As he went to the gangway Marston looked back with a curious feeling of regret. The steamer stood for much that he liked and knew, and he had enjoyed the society of her officers. Their temperament was sane and practical. They did not seek strange adventures; theirs was a healthful struggle against the obvious dangers of the sea.
In front, all was different, and Marston could not see where his path led. Mystery, and perhaps horror, deepened the gloom through which he must grope hisway, and his face was grim as he went down the ladder. He did not talk while the sailors rowed him toColumbine, and leaving Wyndham to give the crew some orders he sat down on the gratings by the wheel.
The dew was falling and the deck was damp. Moisture dripped from the masts and ropes, and it was very hot. The anchor light tossed against the portentous gloom of the land. The yacht looked old and dirty, though Marston knew her strength and speed; the half-naked crew made no noise as they stole about. Their dark skin was scarcely distinguishable and Marston thought they rather looked like ghosts than men.
In the meantime, the steamer's boat was pulling back. Marston saw her move across the dim reflections on the water, but the splash of oars got faint and by and by she vanished in the dark. Then a whistle shrieked and lights that twinkled in the distance began to move. The throb of engines traveled far, but it presently died away and all was quiet. Marston was launched on his adventure, and since he was practical, he went below and studied the chart.