They stood slowly away to the north-east along the coast of Brazil.
Every morning, towards the end of the dog-watch, when the sun rose in
its gorgeous majesty from the sea, there came a refreshing breeze off
the land, bringing with it the perfume of a thousand aromatic herbs;
albatrosses and sea-gulls circled round the ship; flying-fish were to be
seen in shoals; and all nature, animate and inanimate, seemed to be
freshened for the time into activity and life. But gradually the breeze
would become warmer and lighter, and then die away altogether, so that
before noon the sails would hang flapping against the mast. They
scarcely made five knots in the watch, and the heat during the greater
part of the day was unbearable--as unbearable almost as the captain's
temper, which showed no signs of improvement, and which vented itself in
a systematic grinding of the crew, who, Captain Beck declared, were
getting into intolerable habits of idleness.
Strange things occurred on board just at this time, which, taken in
connection with the captain's mood, produced an uncomfortable feeling
that there was some evil influence at work by which both the ship and
the captain were possessed. Groans had been distinctly heard down in the
hold among the coals; and the sailmaker affirmed that on several nights
in succession he had seen a man go from amidships aft along the bulwark
railings, stand still and point with his hand to the compass, and then
disappear in the wake of the ship. Another declared that he had seen the
ship's genius proceed in the same direction and jump overboard--cap and
all he was no higher than a half sea-boot; and when the genius deserts a
ship, it betokens in the sailors' superstitious creed that she is about
to founder.
The unaccountable sounds in the hold continued, and changed one day when
the hatch was battened down to a kind of wail, which ceased, however,
when, for fear of an explosion of coal-gas, it was taken off again. On
the following day the cook, who had gone down for water, came hurrying
back with a scared face, and declared that he had seen a man sitting
there in a red jacket.
"It is the ship's genius lamenting the ship," was hesitatingly suggested
by some. But when the cook objected that the creature was at least as
large as Big Anders the boatswain, and proceeded besides to endow him
with sable colouring and claws, the terror reached its height.
The captain had hitherto replied to these, as he conceived them, fresh
attempts to provoke him, by still further grinding; but when this last
observation of the cook was communicated to him, he broke out
scornfully, pointing at the same time with the bitten mouthpiece of his
old meerschaum pipe at the speaker--
"I think there is a sufficiently stupid devil in the hold sticking in
every one of you rascals. Isn't there one of you with courage enough to
go down into the coal-hold? or must I go myself?"
The first mate proposed to accompany him; but Salvé now came forward and
declared that he, for his part, would as soon go down into the hold as
up aloft. "A man won't sweat half as much at that work," he added, with
sarcastic significance.
He went down accordingly with a light, and after a few moments' search
came upon a miserable, half-famished wretch, who had squeezed himself in
behind the water-butt. He was as black as a negro from the coal-dust,
and declared tremblingly when he came up on deck, that he had deserted
from his regiment in Monte Video, which was an offence punishable by
death, and that he had thought he might remain concealed until the
vessel arrived at Rio; that he had come on board in the dark on the last
evening they lay in the harbour, and had hidden himself under the coals;
and that when they had battened down the hatch he had been nearly
suffocated with coal-gas, and had lain and groaned. Occasionally he had
found an opportunity at night in the dark to climb up into the
jolly-boat astern, and had lain there and breathed fresh air until
nearly sunrise. Once or twice he had been into the caboose and got
something to eat; and sometimes he had stopped by the compass, as it
seemed to him their journey was never coming to an end, and he wanted to
assure himself that the vessel was really steering a northerly course to
Rio, as he had heard from some one in the harbour she intended to do.
He was a young, slightly-built man, with small quick eyes, about Salvé's
height, and apparently a Spaniard or Portuguese, but could make himself
understood in English.
The captain had some doubts as to the truth of his story, as his rank
appeared to be superior to that of a common soldier; and from his
anxiety not to betray his presence in the ship, even after they had got
out into the open sea, he concluded that he was a political refugee, who
at that time would not be very safe even at Rio. He ordered food to be
given him, and promised that he should make his way ashore as best he
could, but that he was not to expect help from him, as the captain had
no intention of involving himself with the authorities on his account.
Salvé, who, like the generality of sailors, could talk a good deal of
English, gradually attached himself to the Spaniard, and found him an
entertaining and clever fellow.
Before a light afternoon breeze they glided at last from the sea into
the narrow channel that runs up to Rio de Janeiro--one of the loveliest
in the world, with majestic granite mountains on either side, one of
which was already blazing in the ruddy light of the evening sun, while
the other in shade stood out a deep violet against the clear blue of the
sky above. On the one side, at the foot of the Sugarloaf Mountain, they
had the fortress of Praja; on the other, the Castle of Santa Cruz; and
facing them on the highest point in the harbour, the slender
signal-tower that announces every ship as it appears at the entrance of
the channel.
So beautiful was the scene that under its softening influence Salvé felt
almost inclined to regret his determination to desert. The feeling,
however, lasted no longer than the beauty which produced it. The soft
lights died away upon the hills, and with them the softer feelings which
had crept in upon his heart. Night settled down upon the outer world,
and with it returned the gloomy thoughts that now for many days had made
his mind their home.
It had occurred to him that the Brazilian would have it in his power to
assist him in effecting his purpose, when they arrived in the harbour,
and he had, therefore, found opportunities of rendering him indebted to
him for many small services. He lent him clothes now to appear among the
other sailors when they were mustered before the authorities, who came
on board immediately after the ship entered the harbour, and it thus
escaped their notice that there was one over the number returned by the
captain as his crew.
The harbour pilot, however--a consequential Mulatto in a Panama hat and
red feather, and decorated with a badge and staff--was more
sharp-sighted, and soon perceived, from the irritable tone in which the
song at the capstan was sung again as they warped the vessel round to
her anchorage in the Ilha das Cobras basin, that there was discontent
prevailing on board; and it was no doubt owing to a hint from him that
already the same evening there were "runners" waiting about near them on
the quay.
Captain Beck was out of humour both with himself and with his crew. Down
in a warm climate he was always irritable, and now that he believed his
authority weakened he had become a perfect tyrant. The prospect of
another voyage under his command was more than many of his crew could
face, and preparations were made by many of them to leave the ship as
soon as they should have received whatever portion of pay on account the
captain proposed, as is customary when a vessel is in harbour, to
distribute. Salvé, however, did not wait for this, and already, the
second night, he and the Brazilian had disappeared.
There was a sharp search instituted, with the assistance of the harbour
police, especially in the house of one particular runner who had been
seen talking with the crew. But he gave them such full liberty to search
his house, and showed such a clear conscience in the matter, that the
police had to admit that they were off the scent this time.
The captain after this intrusted the nightwatches only to those among
the crew upon whom he could place reliance, hauled off from the quay
every evening, and absolutely refused all leave on shore. He had only
received the thanks he deserved, he remarked bitterly, for having helped
that red-jacketed thief, who, by way of return, had taken from him his
best man. Salvé's desertion, indeed, irritated him more than he cared to
admit to himself. He had, according to promise, had him taught
navigation by the first mate on the voyage out; and had settled in his
own mind that when he himself retired from the sea Salvé should command
the Juno for him. He certainly never would find another of equal
capacity, and at the same time so thoroughly to be depended upon; and
now all his comfortable plans were upset.
Before leaving the vessel Salvé placed his silver watch, on which he had
scratched with the point of his knife, "In remembrance of Salvé
Kristiansen," in the waistcoat pocket of Nils, who was snoring loud and
long in his hammock alongside; and then, unobserved by the watch on
deck, the two friends clambered over to the quay in the silent night by
means of the shore rope, and disappeared at once into the darkness of
the neighbouring alleys. The Brazilian appeared to be well acquainted
with the localities, and anxious at the same time; for he avoided the
lighted streets, and often stopped at dark corners to reconnoitre, and
see that the way was clear of the night police.
After picking their way for an hour among narrow lanes, they came out
into a suburb where the houses began to alternate with garden walls,
over which hung orange-trees diffusing their heavy perfume through the
quiet night. They had to cross an open place to the other suburb, Mata
Poreas, and upon the rising ground to one side of them they saw a
building that looked like a fortress enclosed by a stone wall, which
caused Salvé's comrade considerable perturbation. It was the house of
correction, before which there was always a sentry on duty.
They passed it, however, unchallenged, and after half-an-hour's further
walking, the Brazilian halted at last before a garden wall, in which
there was a small wicket gate. He looked cautiously round him and said
excitedly--
"We must climb over here, and then--we are safe."
He climbed up on Salvé's back, and so on to the top of the wall; drew
Salvé up beside him, and then sprang down into the little garden and
began to roll about on the grass as if he had taken leave of his senses,
crying, "Salvado! Salvado!"
He rushed up then to the little villa that lay half overshadowed by
trees, and knocking in a particular manner at the door, called out
"Paolina! Paolina!"
A female in night-dress, with a young, but rather deep voice, opened the
shutter from within, and put out her head.
"Federigo!"--she said, tremblingly; and there followed then a rapid
interchange of questions and answers in Spanish which Salvé did not
understand. He gathered merely that she was surprised to see a stranger
with him, and that he calmed her apprehensions with the word "amigo,"
followed by a short explanation.
She opened the door, and fell impulsively on Federigo's neck, kissing
him on both cheeks, and sobbing. After the custom of the place, then,
she offered her cheek to Salvé, and was a little surprised when he
seemed not to understand her meaning, and nodded merely, as he said,
half in English, half in Spanish, "good evening, señorita." It seemed to
remind her, however, that in her eagerness she had forgotten her
mantilla, and she left them hastily.
She came back to them again in the sitting-room almost immediately with
bread, wine, fruit, and lights upon a tray; and stationed herself then
in a sympathetic attitude with her arm on her brother's shoulder, while
he, with lively gestures, recounted his adventures. Federigo's story
seemed to be reflected from her face as from a living mirror. At one
point her face became pale with passion; her black eyes flashed, and she
made a sudden movement with her clenched hand in the air, as if she were
giving some one a stab with a dagger. She threw her head back then with
a triumphant, scornful laugh that showed her dazzling white teeth; and
Salvé inferred that her brother must have killed some person or other in
Monte Video, probably in self-preservation, and that he was afraid the
police here, in Rio, should have had information of it.
He sat and gazed at her. She was a lithe, supple-looking woman, at once
graceful and fully developed; a dark beauty of the style peculiar to the
South, with wonderful animation in her face, and dark flashing eyes. At
the same time the play of her features was not pleasing, Salvé thought.
It reminded him too much of her brother--it was not feminine; and he was
further repelled by the way in which she repeatedly allowed her eyes to
rest upon him. He didn't know why, but Elizabeth's deep, true northern
face came so vividly before him then, that he felt he could have drawn
it to the life.
The not very flattering expression which this comparison had caused his
face unconsciously to assume as he looked at her, was caught,
unfortunately, by Paolina, as she was on the point of tendering him her
thanks in her impetuous way for what she heard he had done for her
brother. She stopped short in surprise, and evidently repressed a
vehemently resentful impulse, while a look unpleasant for him came into
her eyes. She went over then and took him by the hand in the same way
she had seen him take her own on his arrival, and spoke coldly enough a
few words which were meant to convey her thanks. She didn't look at him
again, not even when she presently said good-night to him, after having
woke up the old mulatto woman who, with herself and her mother, were the
only other inhabitants of the house, and told her to make up a couple of
mat beds in the adjoining room. Federigo had before that gone in to his
mother, and they could be heard in eager conversation.
In Salvé's mind a new impulse had been unexpectedly given to thoughts
from which the novelty of his situation should have afforded him at
least a temporary relief; and he lay long awake, thinking drearily about
Elizabeth. When he did fall asleep at last, he dreamed that he had come
into a serpent's nest, and that he was engaged in a life and death
conflict with a huge snake, that was thrusting its forked tongue at him
from walls, from roof, from every side; and in the gleam of its
vindictive eyes, he seemed all at once to recognise Paolina.