The Unspeakable Gentleman Part 27

I scrambled up ahead through the sand and beach gra.s.s, and the white line of the beach, which even the darkest night can never hide, lay clear before me. A high surf was running, and beyond it I could see three lights, blinking fitfully in the black and nearer on the white sand was the shadow of a fishing boat, pulled just above the tide mark. A minute later Brutus came running toward us.

My father was evidently used to such small matters. Indeed, the whole affair seemed such a part of his daily life as to demand nothing unusual.

He glanced casually at the waves and the boat, tossed off his cloak on the sand, carefully wrapped his pistols inside it, and placed the bundle carefully beneath a thwart.

"The rocket, Brutus," said my father. "If you will get in, Mademoiselle, we will contrive to push you through the breakers. Best take your coat off, my son, and place it over the pistols."

XV

Brutus had evidently kept a slow match burning, for with a sudden flare a rocket flashed into the wind. In the momentary glare of the light I could see my father, his lips pressed together more tightly than usual, but alertly courteous as ever, helping Mademoiselle over the side, and there was Brutus grinning at me. Then the light died, and my father continued giving his directions.

"Stand by Master Henry at the stern, Brutus. I shall stay here amidships.

Now into the water when I give the word. Pray do not be alarmed, Mademoiselle. There is quite nothing to bother."

A breaker crashed down on the beach ahead of us.

"Now!" he shouted, and a moment later we were up to our waists in water that was stinging in its coldness.

"Get aboard," said my father. "The oars, Brutus."

Drenched and gasping, I pulled myself over the side just as we topped a second wave. My father was beside me, as bland and unconcerned as ever.

"You see, Mademoiselle," he said, "we are quite safe. The _Sea Tern_ is standing in already. While Brutus is rowing, my son, we had better load the pistols."

"Surely we are through with them," I said. The boat was tossing wildly, and Brutus was using all his strength and skill to keep it in the wind.

"Still," said my father, kneeling on the grating beside me, "let us load them. Look, Henry, I think we got off in very good time."

A knot of hors.e.m.e.n were galloping down the beach we had just quitted.

"They must have taken the old wagon road," he said. "I had thought as much. It becomes almost tiresome, this running away."

He reached for his cloak, placed it over Mademoiselle's shoulders, and seated himself in the stern beside her, apparently forgetful that he was drenched from head to foot.

"You are not afraid, Mademoiselle?" he asked.

"Afraid? Indeed not," I heard her reply, in a voice that was m.u.f.fled by the wind. "It is a luxury, Captain, which you have made me do without too long."

"Good," said my father, a motionless shadow beside her. "If you cannot trust yourself, there are plenty of other things to trust in--G.o.d, for example, or the devil, if you prefer, or even in circ.u.mstances. How useless it is to be afraid when you remember these! Put the boat up a little more, Brutus."

And he sat silent, watching the lights of the ship towards which we were moving with each tug that Brutus gave the oars. The ship also was drawing nearer. We could make out the spars under shortened sail, and soon we were hailed from the deck. My father called back, and then there came the snapping of canva.s.s as they put up the helm and the ship lost way tossing in the wind.

Wet and shivering, I watched her draw toward us. So this was the end after all, and I was glad it was over--glad that I would soon be quiet and alone with my thoughts. Could it have been only yesterday that I had turned my horse and pa.s.sed between the sagging posts that marked the entrance to his house? Was it only a day ago I had first seen him leaning back idly in his arm chair by the fire?

My father leaned forward and thrust something into my hand.

"A pistol, Henry," he said. "Put it inside your shirt. It will be a souvenir for you when you are home again."

We could hear the waves slapping against the vessel's sides, and the orders from the deck above us. As I looked, it seemed a perilous distance away.

"Alongside, Brutus," said my father.

Two lanterns cast a feeble glow on the sheets of water that rolled under us, shouldering our frail boat impatiently in their haste to move along.

Brutus pulled an oar sharply. I saw a ladder dangling perilously from the bulwarks. I saw Brutus seize it, and then our boat, arrested and stationary, began to toss madly in ill-concerted effort. My father sprang up, balancing himself lightly and accurately against each sudden roll.

"Now, Mademoiselle," he said, "we will get on deck. Brutus will carry you up quite safely. Hold the ladder, Henry, hold to it, or we may be in the water again."

His voice was still coldly precise, not raised even to a higher pitch.

"You are chilled, my son?" he asked. "Never mind, we will have brandy in a moment."

Strange how the years make the path seem smooth and mellow. As I look back on it today, boarding the ship seems a light enough matter, though I know now that every moment we remained by the ladder, eternity was staring us in the face. Even now, when I look back on it, the water is not what I see, nor Brutus grasping at the dangling rope, but rather my father, standing watching the ladder, detached from the motion and excitement around him, a pa.s.sive onlooker to whom what might happen seemed a matter of small concern. Brutus, holding Mademoiselle on one arm, managed the ladder with ready adroitness, and I followed safely, but not before I had been hurled against the side with a force that nearly drove away my breath. I reached the deck to find a lantern thrust into my face, and stared into it, for the moment quite blinded.

"It is the son," remarked a voice which I thought I remembered, and then my father followed me.

"We are on board, Mr. Aiken," he called. "Never mind the boat. Get your men on the braces, or we'll blow on sh.o.r.e."

"Yes, Captain Shelton," said the voice again. "You are on board, to be sure, and very prettily done. I have been waiting for you all evening.

"Indeed," said my father, in his old level tone, "and who the devil are you?"

"Mr. Sims, Captain," came the reply. "I managed to seize your ship before it left the river. It is hard, after so much trouble, but you are my prisoner, Captain Shelton."

My eyes had become accustomed to the light. I looked about me to find we were in the center of a group of men. Mr. Sims, small and watchful, his face a pale yellow in the glow, was standing beside a tall man who held the lantern at arm's length. My father was facing him about two paces distant, his hand on the wet and bedraggled lapel of his coat, his glance vague and thoughtful, as though he was examining at his leisure some phenomenon of nature. Brutus, looking as unpleasant as I had ever seen him, had half thrust Mademoiselle behind his back, and stood half crouching, his eye on my father's hand, his thick lips moving nervously.

My father patted his coat gently and sighed.

"I must admit," he said, "that this is surprisingly, indeed, quite delightfully unexpected. I hope you have been quite comfortable."

Mr. Sims permitted himself to smile.

"I told them you were a man of sense," he said. "Is it not odd that only you and I should have imagination and ingenuity? I knew you would see when the game is over. My compliments, Captain Shelton. You deserve to have done better."

"Of course," said my father, with a slow nod of a.s.sent, "I see when the game is over."

"I knew you would be reasonable," said Mr. Sims. "When it is finished, you and I stop playing, do we not? I am sorry we were not on the same side, but I have been commissioned to take you, captain, for a little man whom you and I both knew back in Paris. I have a dozen men aboard now, who will get us to the harbor. You are a prisoner of France, as you have doubtless guessed. We shall all be trans-shipped to Mr. Jason Hill's schooner, which has been waiting for you; and now you may go below."

Still staring thoughtfully before him, my father rested his chin in the palm of his hand.

"I remember you now," he said. "And may I add it is a pleasure to have met you? It is still a pleasure, much as I resent being taken on board a ship I own."

Mr. Sims bowed ironically.

"And now, Captain, the doc.u.ment, if you please, unless you care to be searched."

I thought my father had not heard, for he still looked quite blandly at the lantern.