The Pagan Madonna Part 13

Mr. Cleve grinned.

"Always looking for sure-thing bets! Better hail that b.u.mboat with the vegetables to row you into town. The old man'll dump you over by hand if he finds you here between now and sundown."

"I'll try the launch there. Tell the lad his fare ain't goin' back to Shanghai. Of course it makes it a bit inconvenient, packing and unpacking; but I guess I can live through it. But what about the woman?"

Cleve plucked at his chin.

"Messes up the show a bit. Pippin, though. I like 'em when they walk straight and look straight like this one. Notice her hair? You never tame that sort beyond parlour manners. But I don't like her on board here, or the young fellow, either. Don't know him, but he's likely to bust the yacht wide open if he gets loose."

"Well, so long, Mary! Know what my first move'll be?"

"A bottle somewhere. But mind your step! Don't monkey with the stuff beyond normal. You know what I mean."

"Sure! Only a peg or two, after all this psalm-singing!"

"I know, Flint. But this game is no joke. You know what happened in town?

Morrissy was near croaked."

Flint's face lost some of its gayety.

"Oh, I know how to handle the stuff! See you later."

Cleigh decided to see what the girl's temper was, so he entered the pa.s.sage on the full soles of his shoes. He knocked on her door.

"Miss Norman?"

"Well?"

That was a good sign; she was ready to talk.

"I have come to repeat that offer."

"Mr. Cleigh, I have nothing to say so long as the key is on the wrong side of the door."

Cleigh heard a chuckle from Cabin Two.

"Very well," he said. "Remember, I offered you liberty conditionally. If you suffer inconveniences after to-night you will have only yourself to thank."

"Have you calculated that some day you will have to let me go?"

"Yes, I have calculated on that."

"And that I shall go to the nearest authorities and report this action?"

"If you will think a moment," said Cleigh, his tone monotonously level, "you will dismiss that plan for two reasons: First, that no one will believe you; second, that no one will want to believe you. That's as near as I care to put it. Your imagination will grasp it."

"Instantly!" cried the girl, hotly. "I knew you to be cold and hard, but I did not believe you were a scoundrel--having known your son!"

"I have no son."

"Oh, yes, you have!"

"I disowned him. He is absolutely nothing to me."

"I do not believe that," came back through the cabin door.

"Nevertheless, it is the truth. The queer part is, I've tried to resurrect the father instinct, and can't. I've tried to go round the wall--over it.

I might just as well try to climb the Upper Himalayas."

In Cabin Two the son stared at the white ceiling. It seemed to him that all his vitals had been wrenched out of him, leaving him hollow, empty. He knew his father's voice; it rang with truth.

"I offer you ten thousand."

"The key is still on the outside."

"I'm afraid to trust you."

"We understand each other perfectly," said Jane, ironically.

The son smiled. The sense of emptiness vanished, and there came into his blood a warmth as sweet as it was strong. Jane Norman, angel of mercy. He heard his father speaking again:

"Since you will have it so, you will go to Hong-Kong?"

"To Patagonia if you wish! You cannot scare me by threatening me with travel on a private yacht. I had the beads, it is true; but at this moment I haven't the slightest idea where they are; and if I had I should not tell you. I refuse to buy my liberty; you will have to give it to me without conditions."

"I'm sorry I haven't anything on board in shape of women's clothes, but I'll send for your stuff if you wish."

"That is the single consideration you have shown me. My belongings are at the American consulate, and I should be glad to have them."

"You will find paper and ink in the escritoire. Write me an order and I promise to attend to the matter personally."

"And search through everything at your leisure!"

Cleigh blushed, and he heard his son chuckle again. He had certainly caught a tartar--possibly two. With a twisted smile he recalled the old yarn of the hunter who caught the bear by the tail. Willing to let go, and daring not!

"Still I agree," continued the girl. "I want my own familiar things--if I must take this forced voyage. But mark me, Mr. Cleigh, you will pay some day! I'm not the clinging kind, and I shall fight you tooth and nail from the first hour of my freedom. I'm not without friends."

"Never in this world!" came resonantly from Cabin Two.

Cleigh longed to get away. There was a rumbling and a threatening inside of him that needed s.p.a.ce--Gargantuan laughter. Not the clinging kind, this girl! And the boy, walking straight at Dodge's villainous revolver! Why, he would need the whole crew behind him when he liberated these two! But he knew that the laughter striving for articulation was not the kind heard in Elysian fields!

CHAPTER IX