Dutch the Diver Part 42

This soon pa.s.sed off, though, and now, thoroughly roused, Dutch retraced his steps, going with outstretched hands to the spot whence the voices had seemed to proceed, to find all perfectly still.

"But she was here," he muttered moodily; and recalling his determination to insist upon a full explanation, Dutch walked straight to the cabin occupied by Bessy Studwick and his wife, and stood listening for a few moments before he knocked.

He could hear voices behind him, where it was evident that the captain and his friends were gathered, and upon listening more attentively he learned what he wished to know, but was never in doubt about--namely, the presence of Hester in the little cabin.

She was there, though, for he heard some one talking in a low tone, and that there was a low sob.

He waited no longer but knocked.

There was no reply.

He knocked again, and there was a rustling sound within which made his heart beat heavily, the blood rushed to his eyes, and a strange swimming affected his brain, as the horrible suspicion crossed his mind that it was not Bessy Studwick's voice he had heard, but the same that he had listened to on deck.

Fighting against the dizzy sensation, and striving to become calm, he raised his hands and stood in the att.i.tude of one about to hurl himself against the door and burst it from its fastenings; but something seemed to restrain him, and he knocked again, and this time plainly enough, he heard Hester's voice in an excited whisper say,--

"He is there! pray, pray, don't open the door."

It never occurred to Dutch that his wife could not know that it was he who knocked, for the hard jealousy that he had taken to his heart suggested and thought but evil of the woman he had sworn to love and protect. It was not Bessy Studwick, then, who was with her, and they dared not open the door. He had given up before, and sought no revenge; this time he would have it if he died.

"Open this door," he said in a low deep whisper, full of the rage he felt, for in his mad cunning he told himself that if he raised his voice or broke in the door, he would alarm the occupants of the other cabin.

There was a dead silence for a few moments, and he was about to make a fresh demand as his hands clenched, and the veins in his forehead stood out throbbing from the excess of his wild emotion.

"Will you open this door?" he hissed again savagely, with his lips close to the panel.

"No," exclaimed a firm voice. "Make the slightest attempt to enter again, and I will alarm the ship."

Dutch Pugh's hands dropped to his side and a sigh like a groan burst from his lips as he staggered away on deck, and going to the side rested his aching head upon the rail.

"Am I mad?" he said to himself. "That was Bessy Studwick. Could it have been her I heard talking here on deck? No, that was impossible, for there was the struggle. Oh! Hester, Hester, my darling, forgive me if I am judging you wrongfully; I'd give my life to believe you true, and yet again to-night I am so ready to accuse you in my heart.

"It is no use, I will not lead this life of h.e.l.l upon earth: she must-- she shall explain her conduct. There was some reason more than I know for her coming on board here. Her conversations with that mulatto.

That meeting to-night. Ha! is it possible? Yes! I have it at last: Studwick was right: Laure's influence still with us. Bah! I believe I am half-mad," he said, with a contemptuous e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n. "I will see her in the morning, and this trouble shall be cleared away."

As he spoke he went down to the cabin he shared with the doctor, feeling lighter of heart for the resolution he had made, and telling himself that half his trouble might have been saved had he spoken to his wife.

"She might even have come out of the trial unscathed," he said, with a strong feeling of elation, and worn out mentally and bodily he threw himself half dressed into his berth, after opening the little window, for the heat was stifling.

"A good resolution at last," muttered Dutch as he laid his head upon his pillow, and as he dropped off to sleep listening to the lapping of the water against the schooner's side, the sound seemed to form itself into a repet.i.tion of the words--"Too late, too late, too late," until he fell into a heavy sleep.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

HESTER'S TRIALS.

That evening, for the second time in obedience to a fierce demand from Laure, Hester Pugh crept timidly on deck as soon as it was dark, and then repenting of her venture she was about to retreat when she felt a grasp like steel clasp her wrist, and in a low voice that made her shudder Laure began to upbraid her, speaking pa.s.sionately of his love, and telling her that it was his wish to win her by his tenderness, and not by force, while she in turn told him of his cruelties, and piteously pleaded for mercy.

"Yes," he said at last, "the same mercy that you have had on me," and flinging his arms round her he drew her shuddering form tightly to his breast.

"Make a sound," he hissed in her ear, "and you slay Dutch Pugh, perhaps all here on board except my party. Be silent and you shall be my happy, loving wife, a princess in wealth and station."

Maddened by her position, Hester struggled fiercely and lettered a stifled cry for help, and at the same moment almost there came the sound of approaching feet, followed by the sound of a blow; and half fainting, she found herself loosened from the arms that held her, and ran, how she never knew, to her cabin, to fall exhausted into Bessy Studwick's arms.

"Lock the door, lock the door!" she panted, clinging tightly to her friend. "Oh Bessy, Bessy, if I could but die."

Bessy locked the door, and returned wondering to Hester's side.

"Hester, darling, your husband must be a perfect monster," she cried, taking the sobbing woman in her arms.

"No, no, no," wailed Hester, "he is all that is good and n.o.ble and true, but he thinks me wicked."

"How dare he treat you like this, if he does!" cried Bessy, indignantly, as she smoothed Hester's dishevelled hair.

"No, no, no, it was not he," panted Hester.

"Not he?" exclaimed Bessy. "Do you mean to tell me that you have been on deck to meet some one else?"

"Yes, yes, and I am afraid; oh, I am afraid," whispered Hester, with a shudder, as she clung more closely to her friend.

"Hester Pugh," said Bessy, gravely; and her voice sounded cold and strange. "You must explain. I cannot wonder at poor Dutch's conduct if you act like this."

"Bessy!" wailed Hester, clinging convulsively to her, "don't speak like that. Don't you turn from me too. I am innocent; I am innocent. Oh that I were dead--that I were dead!"

"Hush, hush, hush," whispered Bessy, trying to soothe her, for she was alarmed at the violence of her companion's grief. "Tell me all about it, Hester. Am I not worthy of your confidence?"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," sobbed Hester, "but I dare not--I dare not tell you."

"Dare not, Hester?"

"No, no, no," she moaned. "Hush! listen! he is there. Bessy," she whispered, clinging to her, "kill me if you will, but do not let him touch me again."

As she whispered this appeal there came Dutch's summons at the door, repeated again, with at last Bessy's stern reply, and then silence.

"He is gone," said Bessy at last, her own heart beating furiously with emotion.

"No, no, he is waiting," wailed Hester, clinging to her; "he is always watching me."

"Hester," said Bessy, sternly, "who is that man?"

"I dare not tell you," whispered Hester, with a shudder.

"As an old friend of your husband, I insist upon your telling me. This is cowardly weakness."

"Yes, yes, I know," wailed Hester, in her helpless misery; "but for his sake, I dare not tell you."

"And you have not told your husband?"

"No."