Gabrielle of the Lagoon Part 15

Hillary almost cursed that sudden recognition as the two men rambled on, and Bilbao shook his fist, bent himself double with glee and took monstrous nips of rum and whisky as he discussed everything, of the past and future, but the vital matter in hand.

But it turned out a good thing, for before the night grew old the big sailor had lifted his hand to the roof and in a thunderous voice had called all the tropic stars to witness that he would find Gabrielle and scatter Rajah Koo Macka's dust to the four winds of heaven. He swore to Everard and Hillary that he knew Macka (whether he really did know him at that time was something that was never known for a certainty).

"I know him, the old heathen kidnapper!" he roared, as Hillary and old Everard stared at the ma.s.sive face with its vikingesque moustache stuck out like spears from the corner of his grim mouth. "Seen 'im off Tai-o-hae five years ago, when he abducted two princesses-twins-from O le Mopiu's royal seraglio!"

It was marvellous the change of atmosphere Bilbao made in Gabrielle's old home, as he thought over his plans, consulted his chart, ran his finger down the degrees and murmured: "Easy as winking!" Indeed, he made everything look so rosy that instead of Gabrielle's abduction being a tragedy it appeared a blessing in disguise.

And it can be truthfully recorded that though Samuel Bilbao held the advance of two hundred pounds in gold and notes in his mighty palm, and said that he didn't like taking money from an old pal, he really _meant_ what he said. All the same, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he felt a ma.s.s of gold coins and notes safe in his capacious pocket. But it must again be admitted, in all fairness to Bilbao, that he could not go off and hire a schooner for a voyage to the coast of New Guinea to search for Gabrielle without some cash in hand.

After that little business matter was settled to the satisfaction of both parties, Bilbao looked at the old man and said: "Ah, pal Everard, she was a beautiful maid, well worth the money, this Gabrielle of yours." Then he continued: "I had great pleasure in meeting the girl, and introduced myself to her as she sat swinging on a bough in the forest not far from here: and didn't she sing to me! Lord! I think the girl fell madly in love with my handsome face. I little dreamed that I was being pa.s.sionately wooed by my old shipmate's daughter."

Everard at hearing this large contortion of the truth only looked absently at the big man and said nothing. Then Ulysses said in a soft, sympathetic voice: "Ah, pal Everard, I can easily imagine how ye loved the gal, soothed her pretty face and made her love ye-eh, pal?"

"I did! I did!" wailed the distracted old man, his wretched heart quaking as he looked for a moment into Bilbao's keen blue eyes and dropped his own in shame.

Hillary, who had told Ulysses a good deal about Gabrielle's home life while he was under the influence of about four whiskies that Ulysses pressed upon him, gave his comrade a hasty pinch in the leg as he wondered what Bilbao might say next.

Ulysses only replied by a ponderous wink, right in front of Everard's eyes too! But the ex-sailor was too far gone to notice that. It took a good deal of persuasion to stop him from going on the voyage to New Guinea himself, if they were successful in hiring a schooner. "You'd better stay at home; the poor girl may return while we're away at sea, and what would she say at missing her dear old father," said Bilbao sympathetically.

The big man looked at the apprentice and gave another wink, and said: "We don't want no old pa with us, eh?"

Hillary responded by a vacant look; then, seeing Ulysses's broad, friendly smile, lifted his hand and smacked the giant on the back uproariously. Alas! even the apprentice was under the influence of drink.

Gabrielle's father sat huddled in his arm-chair; his wooden leg shivered pathetically as he mumbled: "So she's on the _Bird of Paradise_, my daughter, my Gabby."

As for Ulysses, when he heard the name of the ship he smacked his mighty knees and roared out: "Ho! ho! for a bottle of rum! The _Bird of Paradise_!" The adventurous sailorman had made all possible inquiries about the aforesaid vessel when it sailed from the straits, etc., and had calculated to a nicety when it would arrive in New Guinea. "There's no time to lose, by heaven!" he thundered, as he swallowed his ninth whisky and looked at the parlour clock. Then he shook Hillary, woke him up with a start and said: "Come on, lad, let's put the old man to bed; he's tired; it's the least we can do for him."

Before Everard fell to the floor they both lifted him and placed him comfortably on his settee. Drunk as the prematurely aged ex-sailor was, he looked like some bedraggled apostle as he lay there on his couch, his hands crossed, a smile on his lips, as though he still laughed to himself over Ulysses' wild jokes.

Then they both left the bungalow. If Hillary staggered slightly as he gripped Bilbao's arm, and thought that the coco-palms were doing a hushed step-dance on the moon-lit slopes of Bougainville, it must be taken into account that he had to be sociable. He could not very well stand like a mute as those reunited shipmates drank to the sprees of other days and finished up in wild farewells and sanguine toasts to the success of the venture they were engaged upon. As the apprentice softly closed the front door of the bungalow Bilboa said, "Wait a tick," and hurriedly returning into the parlour he picked up the whisky bottle and swallowed the remaining contents. He excused himself before Hillary by saying: "Ah! youngster, I had to drink once again to the success of our venture and to the pretty eyes of that girl; we'll find her, don't you fear."

"I know we will," replied the apprentice, as he clutched the big man's arm.

As they stole along under the palms Bilbao's heart fairly bubbled with mirth as he realised the possibilities of this new adventure. It would take him out on the seas again! It was evident that his present quiet life was palling upon him. No one knew why he was hiding from the arm of the law in Bougainville, and no one cared. All that can positively be stated here is that his heart was bursting to escape from the rough settlement where Germans drank lager and beach combers slept between their drinks. Such happiness was too much for him.

"Splendid!" he reiterated, as he brought his open hand down on Hillary's back. But Hillary cared not; his heart sang within him like a bird: whisky and his comrade's mighty belief in the success of all that they might undertake had made him entirely careless of the moment. "Go it, boy!" said Ulysses to the young apprentice, rattling the money in his capacious pocket, and Hillary joined l.u.s.tily in the rollicking chorus of some Spanish chantey.

When they eventually arrived outside Hillary's lodgings Samuel Bilbao swore that _he_ lived there. And Hillary? Well, he was so confused that he obsequiously followed Ulysses in at that worthy's kind invitation.

And Mango Pango lay on her little bed-mat in the outhouse and could not believe her ears that night, as she mumbled to herself: "Surely not nicer Hill-eary shouting wilder song in ze middle night, up dere in his bedrooms?" And then the astounded Mango Pango heard no more, for Ulysses was comfortably fast asleep in Hillary's bed-while the apprentice slept on the floor.

In the morning Hillary's landlady fairly gasped to see so big and so handsome a man in her quiet young lodger's company. And as for pretty Mango Pango, she opened her eyes and stared at Ulysses as though G.o.d sat there in front of her. And when Ulysses swallowed a quart of boiling tea and then sat her on his ma.s.sive lap, her eyes shone like diamonds.

Though Hillary's head felt a bit heavy after the preceding night's libations he could not help smiling as Samuel Bilbao kissed the Polynesian maid's dusky ear and whispered pretty things to her. And was Mango Pango abashed? Not in the least. It was very evident that Samuel Bilbao was smitten with that dusky maid's charms.

But all these recorded things are small enough compared with the great venture that they were entering upon. Even Ulysses realised that time was valuable and that many difficulties might beset their path before they could hire a schooner and keep their promise to Everard. And more, the young apprentice quickly gave Bilbao a hint that they'd better be off, and that Mango Pango's charms could wait till a later date.

That same day Ulysses went down to the beach and tried to get round all the schooners' skippers off Bougainville. But it turned out that none was willing to accept the fee Bilbao offered for the hire of a schooner, or to take him as pa.s.senger to the coast of New Guinea.

Just as Hillary and his comrade were getting dubious about their chances they heard that a schooner, the _Sea Foam_, was about to sail for New Britain and then on to Dutch New Guinea. In a moment Bilbao had hired a boat and was rowed out to the _Sea Foam_, which lay a quarter of a mile off, by the barrier reefs. Bilbao at once went aboard and interviewed the skipper, and found that he was a mean man and wanted more money than Ulysses possessed to alter his course or take Ulysses for a pa.s.sage at all.

When Bilbao returned to Parsons's grog bar, where he had arranged to meet Hillary, he looked worried. It was evident to the young apprentice that he had entered heart and soul into the whole business. The fact was that he was anxious to clear out of Bougainville, and so the scheme in hand offered him all that he wanted: money, a change, and the forlorn hope and excitement that were meat and drink to his volcanic temperament.

"Don't despair, boy," said he to Hillary, "Bilbao never caved in yet while the world went round the sun." Then they both went back to Hillary's lodgings. Ulysses seemed deep in thought as they pa.s.sed under the palms. Then he said to Hillary: "The chief mate of that _Sea Foam_ is an old pal of mine."

"Is he?" said the apprentice, wondering what Ulysses was driving at.

"Yes, he is," responded Bilbao. Then he added: "I'm going out to see that mate, and I wouldn't wonder if the _Sea Foam_ doesn't sail to-morrow night with you and me on board."

"Really?" said Hillary.

"Yes, really!" responded Bilbao, as he told his surprised comrade to get his traps packed ready to sail the next night.

"But didn't you say the skipper wanted eight hundred pounds?" said Hillary after a pause.

"We don't get all we want in this world," replied Ulysses, as he gave a ma.s.sive wink.

When they eventually got back to Hillary's lodgings, the apprentice was so sanguine over Bilbao's hopeful outlook that he too felt quite cheerful. He opened his sea-chest and showed his big comrade Gabrielle's photograph. Ulysses stared at the face, smacked Hillary on the back, then kissed the photograph gallantly.

After that Hillary sat down in his room and fell into deep reflections over the mysterious disappearance of Gabrielle. Then he played his violin so as to soothe his own feelings. He was quite undisturbed by Bilbao. For that worthy had sneaked off outside beneath the palms so that he could woo pretty Mango Pango. Hillary heard shrieks of laughter coming from the dusky maiden's lips as Ulysses whispered heaven only knows what pretty things into her ears. Anyhow, Mango Pango fell desperately in love with Samuel Bilbao. And when he and Hillary left Mango Pango's kitchen that evening the young apprentice noticed that his comrade was full of glee over some new scheme that had originated in his versatile brain.

Mango Pango's eyes shone like fire as she waved her hand to Bilbao and behaved as though she'd known the giant sailorman since her earliest childhood.

"She's mine!-mine for ever!" chuckled Bilbao.

Hillary took little notice of Bilbao's wild utterances, but it was not long before he discovered that there was a good deal of meaning in all that Ulysses said, and also in the humour of his chuckles.

It would be a ma.s.s of wearying detail to tell all that occurred before Ulysses secured the _Sea Foam_ so that they might sail straight for the coast of New Guinea without the charge for her hire unduly diminishing his private exchequer. It is sufficient to say that Ulysses made the very best of his old friendship with the chief mate of the _Sea Foam_.

And perhaps it will enlighten the reader a good deal to know that the chief mate came ash.o.r.e that night and had a long private conversation and mult.i.tudinous mixed drinks with Bilbao in Parsons's grog bar.

Hillary stood aside as the two men spoke in very low undertones and Ulysses poked the mate in the ribs and showed him a handful of gold.

Then the mate began to get jovial and gave Ulysses a receipt for several of the golden coins. Of course it was none of Hillary's business as to _how_ the _Sea Foam_ was to be hired. Ulysses had taken that part of the job on, and as an innocent girl's very life was at stake, what might appear to be a shady transaction in getting hold of the schooner was only a necessary part of the day's work, so far as Ulysses was concerned. He chuckled inwardly to see the mate's delight over the bribe he'd given him. But his success with the mate of the _Sea Foam_ was as nothing when he discovered that the _Sea Foam's_ skipper was a terrible drunkard; and to make things easier still the skipper himself came into that very bar and, seeing Ulysses flush of cash, swallowed several good strong nips of rum at his expense.

"No, never!" said Skipper Long John (for such was the _Sea Foam_ captain's name), as good old Samuel Bilbao spun his mighty yarns, telling of the wondrous deeds in his seafaring career. Still the skipper continued to drink, so that when at last he fell down on the floor of Parsons's saloon bar after drinking his nineteenth rum no one was surprised. What may have been the surprising matter of the whole business was this: That _same_ skipper was arrested that _same_ night for using bad language and insulting two Polynesian girls on the beach!

No one _saw_ the girls who had been so grossly insulted; all that was known about the matter was that the skipper was seen staggering about the beach that night, trying to hire some natives to paddle him out to his schooner, when he was suddenly seized from behind by two Herculean-framed members of the native police and taken off to the Bougainville _calaboose_ (jail). It was rumoured long after that he was fined fifty dollars or two weeks' solitary confinement. How the poor old skipper took his hard luck is not known. Anyway, one can rest a.s.sured that he never dreamed that Samuel Bilbao knew the head of the native police force in Rokeville, and that whilst he languished in jail that worthy chuckled with delight over the success of his scheme; and the head of the native police was mightily pleased with the bribe he had received from Samuel Bilbao! So was the schooner secured.

It may seem wonderful how the thing was done. But the civil authorities in those parts and the owners in Sydney can vouch for it that the _Sea Foam_, with Samuel Bilbao on board as captain, sailed out of Bougainville harbour at midnight on 10th February, and no one knew for what port she had sailed.

Hillary half wondered if he was in the throes of some marvellous dream as he stood on the _Sea Foam's_ deck just before she sailed. Ulysses was walking about the deck shouting orders to his willing crew. And the crew were singing their chanteys cheerfully as they thought over the conviviality of their new skipper, who had so generously primed them up with the best Jamaica rum. Not one tear was shed when they heard that their late skipper, Long John, had broken his leg and was lying helpless in the tin-roofed hospital at Silbar, in Bougainville. For such was the sad news Ulysses imparted when he had mustered them on deck and told them that he and the chief mate had orders to sail at once. There was not the slightest need to tell them verbally that he was henceforth their captain. The old boatswain saw the imperative command of those eyes and saluted the new skipper, and every man on board instinctively straightened his backbone. In a moment Ulysses had cast off his faded coat and pants and old boots. None wondered when he appeared on deck in the late captain's best sea-going clothes, and on his head the bra.s.s-bound, badged peak-cap that he had found in the skipper's large sea-chest. Everything went well. The south-west trades were blowing steadily; no night could be more favourable for setting sail and clearing the harbour. "Set to! Haul the anchor up!" he roared.

When Hillary heard the rattling of the chain and saw the men aloft fisting the sail he rubbed his eyes. "It's another hopeless dream," he said.

Ulysses all this time was leaning over the gangway, peering down into the gloom, as he tugged at a rope. And as Hillary watched he saw that he was pulling something up that dangled in s.p.a.ce; he had distinctly heard a musical voice that he was astonished to recognise. "Hold hard! Gently there, you son of a gun!" yelled Ulysses, as the deck-hands and the boatswain stood by grinning from ear to ear. And still three of the crew and Ulysses hauled carefully at the taut tackle, as they repeatedly looked over the vessel's side. "G.o.d d.a.m.n it, slew her up! Mind her starboard leg! Over! Over there! Right-o! Up she comes! Gently, lads; gently does the trick! Let go!"

"G.o.d in heaven!" gasped Hillary, for out of the basket hauled up from the outrigger canoe that had just arrived alongside, plomp! down on the deck jumped pretty Mango Pango!

Hillary did not dream. There she stood, her pearly teeth visible by the light of the oil lamp in the gangway, her eyes sparkling as she laughed with glee, like some happy child. Ulysses had persuaded her to bolt from her mistress's kitchen and accompany him on that voyage out to New Guinea.

"Well, I'm blest! He can do anything he undertakes," said Hillary to himself, as he realised why Bilbao had chuckled so much when the two of them had last said good-bye to Mango Pango.

Before the moon was well up the _Sea Foam_ had sailed, disappearing silently out of Bougainville harbour, bound for the great unknown, so far as the crew were concerned. Not a soul aboard the _Sea Foam_ slept that night. When everything was snug aloft, and they were tacking before a steady breeze for the coral seas, Ulysses called all hands aft and served out rum. Several of the crew were Britishers, three were Kanakas, one a j.a.p and the other a nondescript n.i.g.g.e.r. The crew wondered what was going to happen next when they saw Ulysses at the cuddy table and Mango Pango installed at the head. And they too joined in the songs and laughter, as the gla.s.ses clinked and the late skipper's champagne disappeared. It was only the mate who did not seem to appreciate the wild hilarity on board. He was a bilious-looking fellow and looked terribly nervous as Ulysses roared at the top of his voice. The mate had already regretted his share in the scheme that had cast his late skipper into jail and installed Ulysses in his stead. He was unable to persuade himself that he would be acquitted by any jury when they learnt that he had sailed under the jovial orders of Captain Samuel Bilbao. Bilbao had smacked him on the back and sworn that everything would be all right.

"You've nothing to worry about; all you've got to do is to say that I came aboard this ship and proved my legitimate right to install myself as the new skipper." Saying this, Ulysses tried to ease the mate's mind by pulling from his pocket the late skipper's pocket-book and papers, also a note-of-hand that was presumably written in the late skipper's handwriting. This note stated that the care of the _Sea Foam_ was to be given over to Captain Samuel Bilbao, who had instructions to sail at once. Such was the whole scheme, so far as Hillary could make it out.