West Wind Drift Part 19

"Heaven forbid!" she cried. "I have had all I want of marriage, my friend. You will never catch me doing anything so foolish as that again.

No, no! I do not desire to marry you, Mr. Percivail. Nothing so dreadful as that! Suppose we would be married,--what zen? Poof! Because I am an honest woman I would have to tell you some time zat I have had ze honour to be once the mistress of a Crown Prince,--and then you would hold up your holy hands and cry out, 'My G.o.d, what kind of a woman is this I have marry?' and--Oh, but I would not tell you about zat Crown Prince until we have been married a year or two, so do not look so pleased!

In a year you would be hating me so much zat you would rejoice to hear about the Crown Prince, and I would be loathing you so much zat I would probably have to kill you,--because I do not believe in divorce any more than I believe in marriage. You see? Most women hate their husbands.

They never hate their lovers. It is so difficult to get rid of the one, and so easy to keep the other,--zat is the explanation. So! Now you may know zat love is the humblest thing in the world, and pa.s.sion the n.o.blest, for love is for the weak while pa.s.sion is for the strong. Love is easily deceived, pa.s.sion never. Love endures, pa.s.sion conquers. Love is blind, pa.s.sion is sight itself. Love rules the world, but pa.s.sion rules love. Love consents, pa.s.sion demands. Love is law, pa.s.sion is life. I could go on forever, but I see you do not like my discourse. Zat is because you are already in love, my friend. Poof! You will get over that!" She laughed.

Percival was white clear through. He was red-blooded, but at the same time his heart was clean. Once more he found himself contrasting the honest-eyed, pure-hearted Ruth with this sensual scoffer. There was no denying the physical appeal of the lithe, sinuous Russian; there was no gainsaying the call of the blood. On the other hand, the American girl stood for everything his own mother exemplified in flesh and spirit.

As it is with all men, he was absolutely incapable of a.s.sociating pa.s.sion with the mother who bore him, or with sisters who marry and give them nieces and nephews to adore. It was impossible, utterly impossible that they should have possessed the instincts of this woman beside him. But even as the thought raced through his mind he experienced the sudden, almost staggering realization that after all the chief, probably the only difference between his women and Olga Obosky was that they were good!

"Do you want me to tell you what I think of you?" he inquired, his eyes hardening.

"Yes," she said calmly. "But not now. When you have more time, my friend. I shall be very much interested to hear what you think of me. In the meantime, I am troubled for you. You are in love with her,--oh, yes, you are,--and I am very much afraid zat you will lose her if you are not careful. I am your friend. Be warned in time, Mr. Percivail. She is sorry for him. Landover. You have humiliated him before all of us. He is the friend of her family. Go slow, my friend, or she will turn against you and you will lose her. You have still a good chance. She is more nearly in love with you than she suspects. A little good judgment on your part, my friend, and you will win. She will marry you, and when she have done so, zen you may with impunity toss Mr. Landover in the sea,--but not now, my friend, not now."

"By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky," he exclaimed, frankly puzzled. "I can't make you out at all."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very wise, Mr. Percivail," she returned, with a smile. "Au revoir!"

Percival went straight to Captain Trigger.

"See here, Captain," he said at once, "I'm up against it with Landover.

He refuses to take orders from me. I don't want to do anything drastic without consulting you. If you say I'm to let him off, that's the end of it so far as I'm concerned. Of course, I can't answer for the rest of the crowd. But if you say I am to go ahead along the line originally laid out, I'll do it."

Captain Trigger's eyes, red from loss of sleep, pinched with anxiety, rested for a few seconds on the three boats coming across the basin.

Then he turned to the young man.

"Mr. Landover is one of the owners of this steamship line, Percival."

"So I understand, sir."

"He notified me this morning that he will see that I am dismissed from the service if I continue to support this silly, suicidal plan to build a camp on sh.o.r.e."

"Yes, sir. And you?"

"I promptly tendered my resignation as master of this vessel," answered the Captain.

"You did?" cried Percival, dismayed.

"To take effect when I have tied her safely up to her pier in New York,"

said the old man, striking the rail with his fist.

"Great!" cried Percival.

"He has just come to me with the complaint that you have threatened to throw him overboard. Is that true, Percival?"

"Yes, sir,--in a way. I mentioned an alternative."

"Mr. Landover is no better than any of the rest of us. You will proceed to throw him overboard, Percival, if he refuses to do his share of the work."

Percival gulped, and then saluted.

"Orders, sir?"

"Orders!"

The young man started away, but the Captain called him back.

"What are you going to do after you have had him thrown into the water?"

"Why, dammit all," exclaimed Percival, "what can I do but jump in and save his life? You don't suppose I'd let him drown, do you? And, G.o.d knows, n.o.body else would save it. They want to tar and feather him, as it is, or lynch him, or make him walk the plank."

CHAPTER II.

The first of the two boats came alongside, and men began to go clumsily, even fearfully down the ladders. Throughout the early stages of activity on sh.o.r.e, the pa.s.sengers and crew went out in shifts, so to speak.

Percival and others experienced in construction work had learned that efficiency and accomplishment depend entirely upon the concentration of force, and so, instead of piling hundreds of futile men on sh.o.r.e to create confusion, they adopted the plan of sending out daily detachments of fifty or sixty, to work in regular rotation until all available man power had been broken in and cla.s.sified according to fitness and strength. For example, certain men developed into capable wood-choppers, while others were useless in that capacity. Each successive draft, therefore, had its choppers, its strippers, its haulers, its "handy men,"--and its water-boys. Moreover, this systematic replacement of toilers made it possible for those who were not accustomed to hard, manual labour to recover from the unusual tax on strength and endurance.

It should be explained, however, that this system was not applied to individuals selected for the purpose of exploration and research. Four parties, well-armed and equipped, were sent out to explore both sections of the island. These expeditions had numerous objects in view: to determine, if possible, whether the island had ever been visited or occupied by man; to determine the character of the fruits and vegetables; extent and variety of animal life; the natural food resources, etc. The groups were made up of men familiar with nature in the rough. Lieutenant Platt headed one group, Professor Flattner another, a Bolivian ranchman and an English horse buyer the remaining two.

Abel Landover was to have gone out with the first day's shift to work on the road through the wood. He refused point-blank to leave the ship.

This state of affairs lasted through the next two days, the banker stubbornly ignoring the advice and finally the commands of Captain Trigger. In the meantime he had been joined in his rebellion,--a word used here for want of a milder one,--by half a dozen gentlemen who did a great deal of talking about how the Turks were maltreating the Armenians, but, for fear of being suspected of pro-Germanism, studiously avoided pre-war dissertations on the conduct of the Russians.

The first shift's turn had come around once more in the natural order of things, and practically all of the men had been landed. Landover had refused to go out with either of the other shifts. He had stood his ground obstinately. Percival's ultimatum, sweeping like wildfire throughout the ship's company, brought nearly every one on board to the rails to see whether he would carry out his threat. Would he dare throw the great capitalist, this mighty Croesus, this autocrat, into the sea?

The first boat carried off Nicklestick, Block, Shine and the other objectors. Landover was in his stateroom.

"Just a minute," called out Percival to the oarsmen, as they waited for him to take his place in the last boat. "We're shy a man, I see." His eye ranged the deck. His face was a sickly yellow. It would have been white save for the tan. "Where is Landover?" he demanded of the crowd.

Some one answered: "He went to his cabin a couple of minutes ago," and another volunteered: "It's Number 9 on the promenade deck."

Half a minute later Percival rapped peremptorily on the door of Number 9.

"We're waiting for you, Mr. Landover," he called out.

"Wait and be d.a.m.ned," came strongly from the stateroom. "The door is unlocked. If you put a foot inside this room, I'll shoot you like a dog."

"You will have the satisfaction of killing a mighty good dog," said Percival, and threw the door wide open. He did not enter the room, however. Standing just outside the door, he faced the banker. Landover stood in the centre of the luxurious cabin, a revolver in his hand.

"I mean exactly what I say, Percival. I will shoot the instant you put a foot through that door."

"I don't believe you would," said Percival, "but, just the same, I'm not going to chance it. If I ever conclude to commit suicide, I'll go off somewhere and blow my brains out with my own gun. At present, I have no thought of committing suicide, so I'll stay right where I am. I didn't come here to kill you, Mr. Landover. I have no gun with me. I simply came to tell you that the last boat is leaving, and we are waiting for you."

For many seconds the two men looked straight into each other's eyes.