Wild Justice: Stories of the South Seas Part 6

"We hardly look forward to your putting yourself in that position, sir,"

said Mr. Francis.

"No, by G.o.d!" said the captain. "When I quit her Majesty's service it will be neither for pique nor for love."

"No, indeed, sir," agreed the first lieutenant.

"I've had my follies, too, Mr. Francis," said the captain. "Every man who is worth anything has some time or other made a fool of himself about a woman. I don't pretend to be better than my neighbors. I can't forget I was once young myself."

"I'm afraid even a hundred pounds isn't going to fetch him," said Mr.

Francis. "I could see it in the king's eyes he meant to keep the boy."

"The lady in the case is the king's sister, I suppose--" said the captain, "that tall slip of a girl who was always making such sheep's-eyes at Jack. Gad! I don't wonder he preferred a bower in Eden with her to the steerage of a man-of-war and a pack of young devils incarnate! Who knows what might not have happened if she had made sheep's-eyes at me, Mr. Francis!"

"Very true, sir, very true," returned Mr. Francis, who had no sense of humor.

"She's about the sweetest thing I ever saw," went on the captain.

The two men laughed.

"I hope to goodness he'll be the only one," said Mr. Francis. "The fact is, the whole ship's in love; even the lower deck is off its feed; the boatswain says they're messing up the rigging with true-lovers' knots, and I'm told the marines are writing poetry."

"Ah, if it had been anyone but him!" exclaimed the captain.

"It's horrible to call him a deserter," said Francis.

"Don't let's do it," said the captain.

"We have to say something, sir," returned the first lieutenant helplessly.

"One can always lie, I suppose," said Hadow.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do myself for Jack Garrard," volunteered Mr.

Francis.

"Why not say he was kidnapped here by the hill tribes?" said Hadow. "We aren't certain sure he wasn't, and no one can deny but what he might have been."

"But the admiral would be bound to inquire into it," said Mr. Francis.

"Sooner or later he'd send a ship."

"Trust Jack to do his own lying when she gets here," said Hadow.

"Besides, he'll be sick of the whole thing by that time and only too glad to step aboard."

"But won't we be asked why _we_ didn't rescue him?" asked Francis.

"No, no--I have it!" cried the captain.

"It's certainly a case for stretching a point, sir," said Mr. Francis.

"Enter in the log," said the captain, speaking slowly and thoughtfully, "that Pa.s.sed Midshipman John de Vigne Garrard, failing to report himself at the expiration of his leave, was afterwards discovered to have been kidnapped by the hill tribes of Borabora Island. On my threatening to land a party to recover him, I was dissuaded by King George, who cleared himself of any personal responsibility in the matter, and who promised, if only I would give him time, to recover the man without bloodshed or any cost to her Majesty's Government. The king urged that the use of force would imperil the officer's life, which otherwise he had every confidence would be spared."

"Very good, sir," said Mr. Francis.

"You'll give old George a flaming character," added Hadow.

"Very good, sir," said Mr. Francis.

"Pile it on about his reverence for the Queen, and the way he gave beef to the ship," said Hadow.

"And what then, sir?" inquired Mr. Francis.

"Well, you know," went on Hadow, "my orders down here leave me a pretty wide lat.i.tude. You can't tie down a surveying ship in wild waters the way you can a simple patrol. By G.o.d, sir, I'll put the ship back here in nine months and retake Master Johnny Garrard."

"If he has any realization of his position he will then go down on his knees and thank you, sir," said Mr. Francis.

"He's more likely to come aboard whistling!" exclaimed the captain.

"Of course, it will involve a little--insincerity," said Mr. Francis.

"You mean we'll have to lie like h.e.l.l!" said the captain.

"Well, yes," observed Mr. Francis.

"I hope that's understood," said the captain. "But I can't bear to see a fine lad ruined for a bit of squeamishness. Were he thirty he might go hang; but nineteen--Good Lord! one must have a little mercy."

"Where would any of us be now, sir," said Mr. Francis, "if we had each of us received full measure for a boyish error?"

"I know I was a rotten bad egg myself," said Captain Hadow.

"If I may say it without offense, sir," said Mr. Francis, "I think you are taking a very n.o.ble course in respect to this unfortunate lad."

"Of course, I don't want you to think I justify desertion," said Hadow quickly, not ill pleased at the compliment. "Gad, sir, it's a shocking thing; bar actual cowardice, I positively know nothing worse. Were Jack my son, I'd rather see him stretched dead at my feet. I tell you, Mr.

Francis, that when I first heard the news I was stunned; I felt myself trembling; the dishonor, the infamy of it struck me here." Captain Hadow laid his hand on his heart.

Mr. Francis nodded a silent a.s.sent.

"But we'll save him!" cried the captain. "We won't permit this ugly business to blast his life."

"You may count, Captain Hadow, on our most loyal and hearty support,"

said Mr. Francis.

"Thank you," said the captain; "and you will pa.s.s the word along that the subject is one not to be discussed."

"Quite so, sir," said the first lieutenant.

"Not a word!" exclaimed the captain; "and of course you will cancel the reward before we sail. You might even coach old George a bit about the hill tribes. But, of course, not a whisper that we're ever coming back."

"No, sir," said Mr. Francis.