The Captain of the Kansas Part 28

"I hope not. Indeed, I shall be very much surprised if they show up again."

"Ah, that is excellent. Our young lady here does not thrive on excitement, especially of the murderous variety. She is on the verge of a high fever."

"Then she can calm down now; there will be no more fighting to-day,"

said Courtenay, with a smiling glance at Elsie which told her quite plainly that Christobal did not really know what he was talking about.

Which goes to prove that even a prudent man may say mistaken things, with both his tongue and his eyes.

CHAPTER XIV

THE FIRST WATCH

On his way back to the deck, the captain encountered Suarez. The man's gestures, and the satisfaction which lit up his wrinkled face, would have told the news he wished to convey if Courtenay were not able to catch the words "Indianos" and "van." In his excitement the Spaniard pulled the Englishman towards one of the peep-holes in the canvas screen. Sure enough, the canoes were making off towards Otter Creek.

In the marvelously clear light it was easy to see the threatening arms held out towards the ship by a few men who stood upright. Even their raucous cries were yet audible. Courtenay was glad he had not missed this demonstration of hatred. It argued the necessity of continued watchfulness.

The general att.i.tude of the crew was one of real annoyance that the fight had not been carried on at close quarters. They had heard a good deal of noise and yelling, the starboard squad had experienced the thrill of having a man fall dead in their midst, but, with the exception of Tollemache and the Chilean marksman, the main body of the defenders took no part in the fray and saw but little of it. And it is one of human nature's queer proclivities that it seeks rather than shirks a combat when the loins are girt for the smiting.

Walker, though eager to return to his lathe, was no exception to the rule. He looked a trifle discontented when the captain found him uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the engine-room hatch.

"That was a pwetty poo-aw scwap, sir," said he. "I did expect to have a smack at some of those magpies, if only for the sake of washin' the paint an' feath-ahs off 'em with a jet of steam."

"They came quite near enough to be pleasant, Walker. Their flank march was almost a surprise; if a swarm of vicious savages had succeeded in reaching the decks--well, we might have beaten them off, but it would have been touch and go."

"Mebbe you-aw wight, cap'n. 'Best look at a bull ov-ah a fence,' as they say in the Canny Toon. Eh, but I'll have a fine tale to tell when next I meet my b.u.t.ties on the Quay-side. Did ye ev-ah see such faces as yon, all daubed wi' black an' white! Talk about Chirgwin--"

Courtenay smiled and pa.s.sed on. He was in no mood for jesting: the death of the Chilean fireman had damped his high spirits. The _Kansas_ bore tokens in plenty of the battle. Many bullets and arrows had struck the ship; the canvas was torn in several places; a number of port lights were broken, and the open decks fore and aft, as well as the spar deck, were littered with stones. He picked up some of these missiles, man's earliest and latest projectile. They were round and heavy; a few bore the red streaks of oxidized iron; some appeared to be veritable lumps of ore, though the action of water had made them "smooth stones out of the brook." He showed one to Tollemache, who seemed to possess a good deal of out-of-the-way knowledge, and the latter instantly p.r.o.nounced the specimen to be almost pure copper veined with silver.

"Queer thing!" he commented. "You find the worst rotters in any country squatted over the richest minerals."

At the time, Courtenay gave slight heed to this bit of crude philosophy. It was not until he called to mind the Kaffir, the Australian black, the Alaskan Indian, the primeval nomads of California, Colorado, and Northern Siberia, that he saw how extraordinarily true was his friend's dictum. Then he looked on the sh.o.r.es of Good Hope Inlet with a new interest. Would a city ever spring up in that desolate land, a city builded of those pebbles which had clattered against the solid walls of the _Kansas_? Who could tell?

The long romance of gold contained stranger chapters.

But the captain had more important things with which to bother his brains than the fanciful laying out of corner lots on the comparatively level bluff overlooking Otter Creek. He saw to the reverent burial of poor Pietro Gama, entered full details of the fight in the ship's log, and helped Walker to search the suspected coal for a further supply of dynamite, as the utility of the surface mines had been demonstrated beyond a doubt. He thought it possible, given the necessary time, to rig a device which would be practically invisible. A fresh set of dummy poles, which the Indians would probably avoid in the event of a second attack, might deflect the canoes into the area of new mines laid at sea level.

Their utmost diligence brought to light no further supply of the explosive. Evidently, the prepared lumps of coal, each containing a stick of dynamite, which were placed among the bunker at Valparaiso, had been conveyed on board by one man, so it was more than likely there was not another ounce of the stuff on the ship except the three specimens first discovered. These, water-soaked and useless, were locked in a drawer in the chart-house.

While scrutinizing the bunker, Courtenay found a grimy piece of paper, crushed into a ball and amalgamated with coaldust by means of the glue, or other substance, which had been used for making the bombs intended for the destruction of the furnaces. He examined it carefully, believing it had the appearance and texture of cartridge paper. He placed it in his pocket, and, while changing his clothes before joining the others at supper, came on it again with a certain surprise. He plunged it into a basin of hot water, and it yielded its secret. It was the outer wrapper of a stick of dynamite; it bore the circular stamp of the manufacturers, the "Sociedad Anonyma de las Costas del Pacifico." This, in itself, meant nothing. The same company probably supplied hundreds of mines with the five-pound boxes in which dynamite is packed, and, if the stamp were the only clue, none could possibly say when or where it had been issued for use.

But miners are apt to be careless; men accustomed to dynamite will handle it with an astounding disregard for danger. And here was a case in point. Some Spanish overseer, evidently at a loss for a memorandum tablet, had scribbled hieroglyphics with an indelible pencil on this particular wrapper. It was clear that the figures and abbreviated words referred to the development of a cross-heading and the position of certain lodes, but Courtenay was quick to see that the official who made those notes would recognize them. Hence, the mine or store from which the package had been stolen or bought could be identified. Such evidence was of high circ.u.mstantial value. Courtenay put the wrapper in the same drawer as the cartridges, entered in the log the time and manner of its discovery, and forthwith dismissed it from his mind.

It was almost dark when he went on deck. The wind was keen and chilly.

It whistled through the broken windows of the wheel-house, and seemed to have in it a promise of bad weather. But a glance aloft and at the sky beyond the southern headland--Point _Kansas_, as it was called on board--rea.s.sured him. The far-flung arc overhead was cloudless. The stars of the southern hemisphere, vivid and bright, though less familiar than those of the north, were reflected in the black water.

The ship was so still, the surroundings so peaceful, save for the plash of tiny waves created by the breeze, that he was almost startled when a soft voice came from the lower deck:

"Where in the world have you been, Captain Courtenay? Joey is fretting for you, and I have carried him all over the ship in vain search."

His heart jumped with gladness. Elsie was awaiting him at the foot of the companion. Be sure he was by her side without needless delay. The dog wriggled in her arms, so she said:

"I don't think he ought to run about. His dear little paw is rather badly cut, and there may be more broken gla.s.s on the deck."

"I hope not, for our Chileans' sake," laughed Courtenay. "I heard Mr.

Boyle telling them to sweep it up, and they were hard at work when I went to my cabin."

"Oh, is that where you hid yourself? No wonder I could not find you.

Of course, Joey knew where you were. How stupid of me!"

"Please don't call yourself names, Elsie. You don't deserve them.

And, by the way, may I address you by your Christian name? It slipped out to-day unawares. Not that I feel like apologizing, because I don't. There are times when the heart speaks, not the guarded tongue."

Luckily, the darkness covered the hot blush which leaped to her cheeks.

She gave a nervous little laugh, and strove desperately to parry this wholly unexpected a.s.sault.

"I shall be delighted if you always call me Elsie. It sounds friendly, and I think our circ.u.mstances warrant a true friendship."

"Excellent. I suppose you know that my name is Arthur?"

"Yes, but I had no notion of that sort of exchange. You are the captain, and a very serious sort of captain at times. I feel like a little girl when you look at me and tell me not to be naughty. So 'Elsie' sounds all right, but I simply dare not call you 'Arthur.'

Just imagine what a sensation it would create in the saloon. I should feel creepy all over. And hadn't we better be--"

"Elsie," said he, with a tender note in his voice which thrilled her like a chord of exquisite music, "I want to tell you something. The knowledge is forced on me that there is another man on this ship who wishes to make you his wife. But I, too, love you, and I see no reason why I should stand aside for any man on G.o.d's earth until you tell me with your own lips that you prefer him to me."

"Oh!" gasped Elsie, and "Oh!" again, but not another word could she utter, she who had been so voluble a moment ago. The bitter-sweet pain of hearing this sudden avowal was almost overpowering. Her ideals of honor and truth were shocked; but she was a woman as well as an idealist, and she was stirred to the depths of her soul by the knowledge that she had won the man whose love she craved. Yet it must not be: she could never again hold her head high if she yielded to him.

She must relinquish him, drive him away from her by an a.s.sumed coldness which would wring her very heart-strings. If he came nearer, if he took her in his arms, she would be unable to resist him. Her impulse was to fly, to lock herself in her room. But she could not drop the wounded dog on the deck, and Joey, satisfied by his master's presence, snuggled up close to her breast, and made the most of his comfortable quarters. And now, while Courtenay stroked Joey with one hand, he placed the other on Elsie's shoulder. What a plight for a frightened maid who wished to escape! Of course, because she wished that some one would come to her help, the deck was practically deserted. Certainly, Mr. Boyle did appear at the after end of the corridor; but he seemed to remember something strong and urgent which the crew ought to hear, and he turned back.

And here was Courtenay speaking again, speaking in the slow and definite way of a man who was determined that there should be no lingering doubt as to his meaning.

"I want you to listen to me, Elsie," he said, with a pa.s.sionate intensity that stilled the rising storm in her bosom. "Doctor Christobal may have pleaded his own cause already. It is not for me to cavil at him for doing that. But I cannot lose you without a word.

Whether you marry him or me, or neither of us, I shall love you for ever. I want you to know that. It is no new discovery to me. I think my heart went out to you when I carried you in my arms through the gale, and since that hour you and I have had experiences denied to most men and women ere they reach the conclusion that they are fit mates for the voyage of life. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Have we known each other ten days, or ten years?"

His face was very near to hers now. His arm had encroached so far that it was around her neck. It was quite dark where they stood in the shadow of the bridge. He could not see the tears in her eyes, but he heard her broken answer:

"Are you--quite--fair--in using such words to me?"

"Fair, Elsie! 'Fair' to whom?"

"Because--oh, how can I tell you? Are you free to--to speak to me in this way?"

"Elsie, I am pledged to no other woman, if that is what you mean. Who has been telling you otherwise?"

"No one. Indeed, indeed, I alone am to blame. You will be angry with me, but I could not help it."

She could say no more. If she had uttered another syllable just then she would have broken down completely. Joey did not seem to need any further fondling; hence, having a hand at liberty, so to speak, Courtenay placed it under her chin, and lifted her unresisting lips to his. He kissed her twice, and laughed softly, with a glad confidence that sent a wave of delight coursing through Elsie's veins.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "I am sure you would not have allowed me to speak so plainly if you were going to send me away. Now, I don't want you to bind yourself irrevocably to-night. That would certainly not be fair. I don't know why I am to be angry, or what it was you couldn't help, and I don't care a red cent. All I want to know is this--if the _Kansas_ brings us both back to the outer world once more, have I as good a chance of winning your love as any other man?"

"But I must tell you. I could not look you in the face again if you did not hear it. When I was left alone in your cabin, the second time, and the sea came in, a packet of letters fell out of some clothes which I picked up from the floor. There was one from your sister. I hardly knew what I was doing, but I saw her name, 'Madge,' and I read a few words on the half page above her signature."