Gordon Craig Part 33

"You are not so frightened now."

"Not when I am busy; it--it was being left alone, and--and thought of that drowned man."

"Of course, but my being here makes a difference?"

"Always," she confessed frankly. "Somehow I can never be afraid with you. But--but what shall we do now?"

"I hardly know what to put you at--oh, yes, here is a tin, and you can bail out this water sloshing about in the bottom. That will be valuable service."

"What will you do?"

"Rig up the sail the best I can in the dark; there is breeze enough to give us some headway, and ship the rudder."

"Do you know which direction to steer?"

"Not now, but I have a compa.s.s in my pocket; a northeast course would be sure to bring us to the coast, and towns are scattered along. I found that out from Broussard yesterday."

She made no response, bending over with the tin dipper, and I went at my task, straightening out ropes so they would work easily through the blocks. In spite of the darkness I was not greatly hampered, as everything had been stored away in shipshape manner, and came conveniently to hand. The wind freshened perceptibly while I was thus engaged, veering into the southeast, so that all the cloth I dare spread was the jib and a closely reefed mainsail. The boat acted a bit cranky, but, confident she would stand up under this canvas, I crawled back to the tiller, eased off the sheet a trifle more, and waited results. We shipped a bucket full of water, and then settled into a good pace, a cream of surge along our port gunwale, and a white wake astern. The woman kept on bailing steadily, until the planks were dry, and then crept cautiously back to the thwart just in front of me, leaning over slightly to keep clear of the occasional flap of the sail.

I hoped she would speak, and thus afford me some excuse for telling what I had discovered on board the _Sea Gull_, but she sat there in silence, staring straight ahead into the ceaseless drizzle, her oilskins gathered tightly. Holding the tiller under my arm I unscrewed the face of the compa.s.s, and made a guess at our position. However, there was no star, or other mark of guidance, by which I could steer; only the wind, which apparently shifted in gusts, and I could merely hold the leaping craft in the course I deemed safest. I doubt if the eye penetrated twenty feet beyond the boat's rail, but we raced through the smother in a way that gave me a certain thrill of exultation. At least we were clear of the _Sea Gull_, and safe enough, unless a storm arose. With the return of daylight a course could be set for the coast, which would n't be far away. So I stared into the darkness, and waited, scarcely bold enough to break the silence.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

A TALK IN THE NIGHT

I wondered what awaited us ahead in that black mystery of waters; had they discovered yet our absence on board the _Sea Gull_? If so, what would Henley do? Knowing that I had rifled his desk, his one thought upon release would naturally be the recovery of the papers. Besides, smarting from his bonds, and thirsting for revenge, he would never permit the vessel to depart from these waters without an effort to overtake us. Private vengeance would outweigh all other considerations. G.o.d pity us if we ever fell into his clutches again.

And there would be no doubt as to the manner of our escape--the trail left was a plain one. I could imagine the scene on board when the discovery of our escape was first made--the search for the missing mate, the discovery of the loss of the boat, the dangling ropes proving how it had been lowered. Then would follow an excited investigation below, revealing the steward locked into his pantry, and the raging captain tied and gagged in his berth. I could not forbear laughing to myself at the picture, and yet never was insensible to the danger still confronting us.

There was in my mind, now I had leisure to consider, no doubt as to what those on board that vessel would do. They would realize we were somewhat astern, and, in the hope of sighting us at daylight, would cruise back and forth in those immediate waters. Any moment the _Sea Gull's_ sharp prow might loom up out of the black wall. As she carried no lights there would be no warning. It occurred to me that they would be more apt to take a course well in toward sh.o.r.e, antic.i.p.ating I would endeavor to reach the protection of the coast under cover of darkness.

Someone would discover the loss of the tell-tale compa.s.s, which would naturally confirm that suspicion. Convinced of this I steered more to the eastward, feeling of the face of the compa.s.s again to a.s.sure myself of the direction. I found even this small change an advantage in more ways than one, as the boat moved steadier, and I was able to spread a larger amount of canvas. Lashing the tiller, I crept forward and shook out an additional reef, hauling the ropes taut. By this time the wind had steadied into a brisk breeze, and the rain had ceased. Crawling back across the thwarts, I took the jumping tiller again into my hands, and held her nose to it, seeking every advantage. I had brought back with me a tin of biscuit from the bow locker, more as an excuse for opening conversation than from any feeling of hunger.

"It must be pretty close to midnight," I said finally. "Are you hungry?"

The shapeless form in the oilskins straightened slightly, and I knew she had turned her face toward me.

"Hungry! Oh, no; I had not thought of that."

"You have been crying?"

"Yes; it is so foolish, but I am so frightened out here in this little boat. The darkness, and that awful water has got upon my nerves.

You--you must n't scold me."

"Of course not--I feel the weight myself," I replied kindly. "This experience is almost as new to me as to yourself. You must remember I am no sailor."

"Yet you understand boats; you know the sea."

"Only a little about small boats; I picked that up in the Philippines; but I have never had to rely entirely upon myself before."

"But you are not afraid?"

I laughed softly, hoping to rea.s.sure her.

"Not of those things which most affect you, at least. I can handle the boat all right in this sea and wind, while the darkness possesses no special terror."

"Nor the memory of that dead man float--floating somewhere yonder?"

"I have hardly thought about him. I have seen so many dead men in the past three years I have become hardened possibly. You must n't let your mind dwell on that grewsome incident. It was unavoidable, our only means of escape. His death was an accident."

"What is it then you are afraid of?"

I told her, dwelling upon our situation so far as I could understand it, and describing the change in my plans. She listened quietly, asking a question now and then, sitting erect, the oilskins thrown aside, and one hand grasping the boat's rail.

"What papers did you find in the desk?"

"Letters mostly, establishing the ident.i.ty of the Captain."

"Who is he--really?"

"Charles Henley--Philip Henley's half brother by a negro mother. Did you ever hear of him?"

"No; I was never told there was such a man."

"I doubt if anyone, outside those immediately interested, ever knew the circ.u.mstances. Of course the family kept it a close secret. This is where the man had all the advantage. As soon as the Judge died he determined to represent himself as Philip, and claim the property.

"As Philip had been absent so long, no one could dispute successfully his claim to be that individual. He possessed ample evidence that he was the son of Judge Henley."

"But surely he would antic.i.p.ate that my hus--Philip--would hear of his father's death?"

"He took the chance of getting the property into his hands first. As I understand the matter he possessed no knowledge that the Judge was in communication with Philip. He believed the latter had disappeared utterly, and would only learn of his inheritance through accident. To prevent this he dispatched a man North to discover him, if possible, and keep him under surveillance. He thought he had every avenue guarded."

"And--and you said his mother was a negress?"

"Yes--old Sallie."

"What! That awful creature!"

"Probably she was not that in her younger days."

"I cannot imagine such a thing. How did you learn this?"

"From Broussard first. They have been together for years, but I happened to discover the fellow when he was angry over a punishment.

He talked more freely than he intended to do, and later I verified all he said by the letters found."

"Then, strange as it sounds, it is true?"