The Pursuit Part 36

The voices whispered again, something was laid beside him, touching him.

The hinges grated, footsteps pa.s.sed over a floor or deck above his head.

And then there was silence.

But out in the bay a few minutes later, the decent stillness of the night was torn into tatters of uproar. The voice of the Spanish boatman was uplifted in appeals for help to every listening saint in Paradise, and to every inhabitant of the Melilla's citadel and port. The sounds reached, as they were meant to reach, the quay. Every guardroom was emptied; the roisterers surged into the street from a dozen _albergars_ and _cervecerias_. Half a score of boats put out into the night, one manned by the naval police leading.

Lament guiding them, within five minutes they reached a point where El Avispa clung disconsolately to the keel of his upturned boat, bewailing the day of a birth which had developed for him into a life of unremitting sorrow. He was dragged into the police boat and ordered to explain himself.

It was the fault of the foreign Senor, he deposed. Justice to himself compelled him to admit that, though he had every regard for the reputation of a cavalier who was now without doubt drowned fathoms deep below the very spot on which the rescuing pinnace swam. Being careless, or perchance engrossed by the attractions of the Senora who was for beauty a very swan, the amateur steersman had precipitated them among the mackerel nets. The rudder was fouled. He, Ignacio Baril, sometimes called El Avispa, had stood up to pa.s.s to the stern and release it. The Senora, with entrancing but unfortunate timidity, had risen in her turn, and the Senor, gesticulating in argument, had consummated the disaster.

He had leaned sideways, lost his balance, and caused the boat to lurch completely over.

Yes, he himself had put forth the efforts of a Hercules to save, at least, the woman. In deference to the memory of his mother, who was already among the Saints after a lifetime of charity and benevolence, he must bear witness to the fact that her son met this crisis with energy.

How was he defeated? The truth must out; again it was the foreign cavalier. In his panic he had clutched and drawn back from the brink of safety the Senora--alas! to perdition. The would-be rescuer had desisted from his efforts only when his overtaxed lungs failed him. In a state of semi-unconsciousness, Providence had guided his aimless hand to reach and rest upon the keel of his overturned boat. He had been saved, it was very true, but it was a question if death itself was not to be poignantly preferred to safety coupled with such a burden of grief. His days must be clouded to his life's end.

And thereupon the bay echoed with the shouts of a hundred searchers and the waters glittered in carnival gaiety below the glare of their lights.

A couple of hours later one of them halted, as if to rest the rowers, in the shadow of the felucca _Santa Margarita_. From her bows a long, cord-lashed package was silently lifted on the larger vessel's deck, while three figures scrambled hastily over the gunwale and crept below.

Then laboriously the clumsy anchor was hauled home, the broad sail spread to the western breeze, and Signor Luigi steered a straight course into the bosom of the night.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE SANTA MARGARITA'S LAZARET

The torment of his tightly lashed limbs, the irk of the gag between his teeth, want of air, hunger, thirst--these had all done their work upon Aylmer and, as the hours went by, produced a partial unconsciousness. It was not sleep which overpowered him; it was a thing less merciful than that. A numbness had seized both his limbs and his brain. He no longer felt the cutting pressure of his bonds; he scarcely realized where his powerlessness lay. Effort was paralyzed, that was all he understood. It was a nightmare; his brain refused to confront reasons; he was sensitive only to effects. Thus it was with a shock as if sensibility itself was only then returning that he heard the grating sound of hinges, was conscious of a gleam of light in the hitherto persistent darkness, felt fingers busy at his lips. The gag fell from between them.

With the powers of speech his own again, his senses used them instinctively for primitive needs.

"Water!" he muttered hoa.r.s.ely. "Water!"

"With pleasure, my dear cousin!" said a familiar voice. "Water, food, and even, under restrictions, a little liberty. Has that programme attractions? Surely--after what, I fear, has been a monotonous night."

It was Landon who held a guttering lamp in his hand and looked down at them complacently--Landon, debonair, smiling, triumphant.

Aylmer's eyes searched past him after the first glance of surprise.

Touching his feet lay Miss Van Arlen, bound as he had been bound, the mark of the gag still grooving her lips and cheek. Beyond her, propped against a bulkhead at the end of the narrow oblong lazaret in which they all lay, was another figure. Aylmer blinked and frowned in his surprise.

The face was unfamiliarly pale; the usually apathetic eyes dark with repressed emotion. But they both undoubtedly belonged to--Mr. Miller.

This, then, was the meaning of the opening of their prison door for the second time the previous evening; this was the addition to their cargo which darkness had concealed from him.

Landon gave a pleasant little laugh.

"An unexpected reunion, is it not?" he suggested. "I have unavoidably deprived you of a few luxuries, my dear Miller, but have supplied what is far more important--true friends."

For a moment the other was silent; his glance reviewed his surroundings with careful intensity; he seemed to prime himself with all available information before he dealt with a situation which found him moved, indeed, but not by useless loss of temper.

"You will probably pay for this--highly," he said in his usual level tones. "I do not know precisely what you expect to gain, my dear Landon, but believe me the price of this exploit will be more than you can afford."

Landon made a gesture of protest.

"There will be a price; you are quick to jump to these conclusions," he agreed. "But I, dear friend, am the payee."

He nodded, favoring each of them with a glance in turn.

"Yes," he said. "That is the situation; please understand it. I am dictating terms, I. I am no longer the hunted, but the hunter. I have many debits in my mental ledger. I propose to collect them once and for all, in full."

The three regarded him without speaking, and he laughed again, amiably.

"Sister-in-law," he said, "your s.e.x requires my first apologies. You must blame the wind, not me, for the discomforts of the night. While we remained within earshot of the land or of pa.s.sing ships, your silence was overwhelmingly desirable. This applied to all three of you, and the contumacious wind forbore to rise. But the breeze of the last hour has given us an offing which frees you of all disabilities. Your bonds, to commence with."

He stooped and rapidly unlashed her wrists and ankles. He put out a hand to draw her to her feet.

With an uncontrollable gesture of repulsion, she waved it away and rose unsteadily, clinging to the bulkhead. She faced him.

"Have you never asked yourself what the end will be, the end of all this?" she said suddenly, fiercely. "You win a trick here and there; you reckon up the points; you mock your adversaries. Do you never give a thought to what the price, the ultimate price, must be?"

He looked at her--a look that held some curiosity--a tinge, indeed, of admiration.

"You are a little unexpected, my dear Claire," he answered. "Does not the more material question of food and drink engross you? Do you really wish to discuss abstractions?"

She gave a hopeless little shrug of her shoulder.

"It is because you are wholly evil, wholly, that you puzzle me. And yet you are not unintelligent; you must know, mere experience must teach you, there is a price to be paid!"

"Certainly." Landon laughed again, a mocking laugh. "I sketched it in outline to your--your lover--may I have the felicity of calling him that?--when I enjoyed his company in the silo on the road to El Dibh."

The color flamed to her cheek.

"You are insolent!" she said, and again Landon laughed.

"Or merely premature?" he asked gaily. "After all, for the moment hospitality must engross me and nothing else." He turned and beckoned to some one unseen. He received a basket.

"Bread, cheese, wine," he explained. "Will you help yourself while I a.s.sist my other guests? Or, if they choose, they may a.s.sist themselves.

But I must have your words, my friends, that you will not attempt violence or escape if I release your hands."

The two prisoners exchanged glances. Then Miller held out his fettered wrists.

"As you will," he said quietly. "Temporarily I give you my parole. I retain the right to withdraw it."

Landon nodded and looked at his cousin.

"And you?" he asked.

Aylmer met the look squarely.

"No, to you I will be beholden for nothing," he answered. "I give no word; I keep my independence."

Landon shrugged his shoulders.