LINCOLN COLCORD

LONDON

EVELEIGH NASH & GRAYSON LTD.

148 STRAND

1922

_Copyright in the U.S.A._

By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY

*CONTENTS*

AN INSTRUMENT OF THE GODS

THE UNCHARTED ISLE

SERVANT AND MASTER

RESCUE AT SEA

UNDER SAIL

ANJER

*AN INSTRUMENT OF THE GODS*

*AN INSTRUMENT OF THE GODS*

*I*

"The longer I live" said Nichols from the darkness of his corner "the

less of difference I see between the East and the West. I've been

listening closely to you fellows. We are fond of saying that we don't

understand the Oriental; but, let me ask you, do we fully understand our

best friends--even ourselves? Whose fault is it? Or, failing to

understand the Oriental, is it logical for us to consign him to a

different sphere of human nature? Of course, it's the easiest way to

dodge the real answer...."

The old _Omega_ had drifted that morning past Green Island, dropping

anchor a little later among the fleet off Stonecutter's; and after

dinner, moved by a common impulse, we had called our sampans and joined

Nichols under her spacious after awning. There, with the broad

land-locked harbour of Hong Kong under a half moon reflecting the

perfect outline of the Peak, talk had wandered lazily along the range of

our shipping activities, to reach at last, as it always did in such

company, that world-old problem of the races of men.

"I think I know the race of Chinamen" Nichols went on, while grunts of

assent from several quarters of the deck gave testimony to his

reputation. "Oh, yes, I know them. They are made of flesh and blood,

if you'll believe me; they eat with their mouths, and think in the

recesses of their skulls, just as we do. They marry, beget children,

and pass through life. They love, fight, strive for gain, sin, suffer,

learn lessons, regret, make restitution, are tempted by devils, struggle

and triumph, or give up in despair, and finally die with their years and

their secrets on their heads. The same old conscience pursues them.

Yes, they are eaten up, like us, by the savage and devastating contest

with self, the flesh and the spirit striving for the mastery; and out of

the contest, like fire struck from clashing swords, come the sparks of

ideas, of aspirations, of creative efforts, of wonder and joy, pain and

fear, of all the infinite play of this star-spangled life of ours

against the soft darkness of the unknown sky.... You fellows have been

discussing only superficialities. At heart, you and the Oriental are

the same. The Chinese are romantic, I tell you; they are heroic, they

are incorrigibly imaginative. You think not? Let me tell you a tale"

Suddenly Nichols laughed, a snort that might have been of self-derision.

"You won't be convinced" he chuckled "I see it already. You'll derive

from this tale, no doubt, only further confirmation of the unlikeness

you imagine. So be it. I merely warn you not to be too sure. Strip my

friend Lee Fu Chang naked, for instance, destroy and forget about that

long silken coat of his, embroidered so wonderfully with hills and trees

and dragons, dress him in a cowboy's suit and locate him in the Rocky

Mountain region of fifty years ago, and the game he played with Captain

Wilbur won't seem so inappropriate. It's only that you won't expect a

mandarin Chinaman to play it. You'll feel that China is too old and

civilized for what he did...."

*II*

"Some of you fellows must remember the notorious case of Captain Wilbur

and the ship _Speedwell_" Nichols began "For years it was spoken of

among sailors as a classic instance of nautical perfidy; and this was

the port, you know, where Wilbur first brought the ship after he'd

stolen her, and settled down to brazen out his crime. But few men have

heard how he lost her in the end, or why he disappeared for ever from

the life of the sea.

"Perhaps I'd better refresh your memories; let's go back a matter of

forty years. Captain Wilbur was a well-known shipmaster of those palmy

days. He had commanded the _Speedwell_ for a decade, and possessed a

reputation for sterling seamanship and unblemished integrity. His vessel

was one of the finest moderate clippers ever launched on the shores of

New England. But she was growing old; and Wilbur himself had suffered

serious financial reverses, although this fact wasn't known till after

the escapade that estranged his friends and set our little world by the

ears. He seems to have been something of a gambler in investments, and

by bad judgment or ill luck had brought his fortune to the verge of ruin

if not of actual disgrace. This, so far as I know, stands as the sole

explanation of his amazing downfall. There was nothing else the matter

with him, physically or mentally, as you shall hear.

"Out of a clear sky, this was what he did: he deliberately put the

_Speedwell_ ashore in Ombay Pass, on a voyage home from Singapore to New

York with a light general cargo, and abandoned her as she lay. I say he

did it deliberately; this is the common surmise, and subsequent

developments lend point to the accusation. It may have been, however,

that she actually drifted ashore, and that he didn't try at the time to

get her off. Whether he planned the disaster, or whether he succumbed to

a temptation thrust in his face by the devil of chance, makes little

difference. His plans were deliberate enough after the event.

"Within a month after sailing for home, he was back again in Singapore

with his ship's company in three longboats and a tale of a lost vessel.

There he remained for three months, cleaning up the business. No breath

of scandal was raised against him; Ombay Pass on the turn of the monsoon

had caught many a fine vessel before this one, and the account rendered

by his officers and crew was straightforward and consistent. The

_Speedwell_, according to the official record, had drifted ashore in a

light breeze, before the unmanageable currents of that region, and had

lodged on a coral reef at the top of the tide in such a position that

she couldn't be got off. It was another case of total loss of ship and

cargo; in those days there were no steam craft in the East to send on a

mission of salvage, and the Eastern Passages were forbidden hunting

ground. What they caught they were allowed to keep, with no words said

and the page closed. The insurance companies stood the strain, the

ship's affairs were settled without a hitch, and the name of the

_Speedwell_ passed simultaneously from the Maritime Register and from

the books of her owners in America. Captain Wilbur let it be known that

he was going home, and left Singapore.

"It was his remarkable destiny to be the revealer of his own perfidy; he

made no bones about the job. Instead of going home, he went to Batavia,

and there hired a schooner and crew with the proceeds of his personal

holding in the _Speedwell_. This schooner and crew he took immediately

to Ombay Pass. They found the ship still resting in the same position.

What they did there must remain a mystery; I have the tale only in

fragmentary form from the Lascar who was serang of Wilbur's native crew.

"He, it would seem, was overawed by the extent of the engineering

operations in which he participated; his description partook of the

colour and extravagance of a myth. Alone in distant waters they had

wrestled like heroes with a monstrous task; day had followed day, while

the great ship remained motionless and the elements paused to observe

the stupendous effort. They had unloaded the cargo: they had sent down

the top-hamper and rafted it alongside; they had patched and pumped, and

Wilbur himself had dived in the lower hold and under the bows to place

the stoppers in their proper position. So far as I can reckon, it took

them a couple of months to get her off; but, by Jove, they floated

her--a magnificent feat of sailorizing. Then they loaded the cargo

again, and came away.

"When Captain Wilbur appeared one morning off Batavia roadstead with the

_Speedwell_ under top-gallantsails, towing the schooner, it was the

sensation of the port; a sensation that flew like wildfire about the

China Sea, as it became clear what he intended to do with her. For he

proposed, incredible and unaccountable as it seems, to hold the ship and

cargo as salvage; and nothing, apparently, could be done about it. She

was actually the property of himself and the Lascar crew.

"The crowd alongshore, everyone interested in shipping, of course turned

violently against him; for a time there was wild talk of extra-legal

proceedings, and Wilbur might have fared ill had he attempted to

frequent his old haunts just then. But he snapped his fingers at them

all. He found plenty of men who were willing to advance him credit on

the security of the ship: he bought off his crew with liberal

allowances, took the _Speedwell_ to Hong Kong and put her in drydock,

and soon was ready for business with a fine vessel of his own. Well, he

knew that personal repugnance wouldn't be carried to commercial lengths;

that he and the ship, by cutting freights a little, could find plenty to

do. As for the rest of it, the moral score, he seemed cheerfully

prepared to face the music, and probably foresaw that with the passage

of time he would be able to live down the record.

"The old _Omega_ and I were down the China Sea on a trading voyage while

these events were taking place. When we got back to Hong Kong, Wilbur

had already sailed for Antwerp, leaving his story to swell the scandal

and fire the indignation of the water-front. I heard it first from my

friend, Lee Fu Chang.

"'An extraordinary incident, is it not?' exclaimed Lee Fu in conclusion

'Extraordinary! I am deeply interested. First of all, I am interested

in your laws. Here is a man who has stolen a ship; and your laws, it is

discovered, support him in the act. But the man himself is the most

interesting. It is a crowning stroke, Captain Nichols, that he has not

seen fit to change the name of the vessel. Consider this fact. All is

as it was before, when the well-known and reputable Captain Wilbur

commanded the fine ship _Speedwell_ on voyages to the East'

"'Can it be possible?' said I 'Isn't there some mistake? The man must

have the gall of a highway robber! Does the crowd have anything to do

with him?'

"'None of his old associates speak in passing; they cross the street to

avoid him. He goes about like one afflicted with a pestilence. But the

wonder is that he is not disturbed by this treatment. That makes it

very extraordinary. He is neither cringing nor brazen; he makes no

protests, offers no excuse, and takes no notice. In the face of

outrageous insult, Captain, he maintains an air of dignity and reserve,

like a man conscious of inner rectitude'

"'Did you talk with him, Lee Fu?' I asked.

"'Oh, yes. In fact, I cultivated his acquaintance. The study fascinated

me; it relieved, as it were, the daily monotony of virtue. In him there

is no trace of humbug or humility. Do not think that he is a simple

man. His heart in this matter is unfathomable ... well worth sounding'

"'By Jove, I believe you liked him!' I exclaimed.

"'No, not that' Lee Fu folded his hands within the long sleeves of his

embroidered coat and rested them across his stomach in a characteristic

attitude of meditation. 'No, quite the opposite. I abhorred him. He

seemed to me unnatural, monstrous, beyond the range of common measure.

Captain, there are crimes and crimes, and it has been my lot to know men

who have committed many of them. There are murder, theft, arson,

treason, infidelity, and all the rest; and these, in a manner of

speaking, are natural crimes. Shall we define it thus: a natural crime

is one which eventually brings its own retribution? Sooner or later, if

justice is not done, the natural crime works havoc with its perpetrator;

it plagues his conscience, it fastens like a fungus on his soul.

Through lust or passion, natural impulses, he has committed error; but

he cannot escape the final payment of the price. On the other hand,

there are unnatural crimes, crimes for which there is no reason, crimes

requiring no liquidation; and there are unnatural criminals, feeling no

remorse. Such a criminal, I take it, is this Captain Wilbur, who goes

his way in peace from the betrayal of a sacred trust'

"'Aren't you drawing it a little strong?' I laughed 'It isn't exactly a

crime...'

"Lee Fu smiled quietly, giving me a glance that was a mere flicker of

the eyelids. 'Perhaps not to you' said he 'Fixed in the mind of your

race is a scale of violence by which to measure the errors of men; if no

blood flows, then it is not so bad. Your justice is still a barbarian.

Thus you constantly underestimate the deeper crimes, allowing your

master criminals to go scathless, or even, in some instances, to prosper

and win repute by their machinations. But, let me tell you, Captain,

murder is brave and honourable compared with this. Consider what he

did. Trained to the sea and ships, after a lifetime of honourable

service to his traditions, he suddenly forsakes them utterly. Because

the matter rests with him alone, because there is nothing in it for him

to fear, his serenity condemns his very soul. He has fallen from heaven

to hell; flagrantly, remorselessly, and without attempt at concealment

or evasion, he has played false with sacred honour and holy life. It is

blasphemy that he has committed; when the master of the ship is not to

be trusted, the gods tremble in the sky. So I abhor him--and am

fascinated. He does not speak of his crime, of course, yet I find

myself waiting and watching for a hint, an explanation. Believe me,

Captain, when I tell you, that in all my talk with him I have received

not a single flash of illumination; no, not one! There is no key to his

design. He speaks of his ship and her affairs as other captains do. He

is a tall, jovial, healthy man, with frank glances and open speech. For

all that seems, he might have forgotten what went on at Ombay Pass. I

swear to you that his heart is untroubled. As you would say, he does

not care a damn.... And that is horrible'

"A little amused at my friend's moral fervour, I adopted a bantering

tone. 'Perhaps the man is innocent' said I 'Perhaps there's something

unexplained....'

"'You forget that he holds the vessel as his property--the same vessel

that he himself ran on shore' Lee Fu reminded me 'You are still

thinking, Captain, of violence and blood. No one was lost, no shots

were fired ... so, never mind. It is not vital to you that a strong man

within your circle has murdered the spirit; you refuse to become excited

or alarmed ... Wait then till actual blood flows'

"'What do you mean by that, Lee Fu? You think...?'

"'I think Captain Wilbur will bear watching. In the meantime, take my

advice, and study him when opportunity offers. Thus we learn of heaven

and hell'"

*III*

"A few years went by, while the case of Captain Wilbur and the

_Speedwell_ passed through its initial stages of being forgotten.

Nothing succeeds like success; the man owned a fine ship, and those who

did business with him soon came to take the situation for granted.

Wilbur made fast passages, kept the _Speedwell_ in excellent trim, and

paid his bills promptly; rumour of course had it that he was growing

rich. In all probability it was true. After a while, some of his old

friends were willing to let bygones be bygones; there were many more to

whom the possession of a fine piece of property seemed of enough

importance to cover a multitude of sins. The new fellows who came to

the East and heard the tale for the first time couldn't credit it after

meeting Wilbur in the flesh. Little by little one began to see him again

on the quarter-deck at the evening gatherings of the fleet, or among

seafaring men ashore at tiffin. When, in time, it became unwise to start

the story against him, for fear of misconstruction of one's motive, it

was evident that he had well-nigh won his nefarious match against

society.

"I'd met him a number of times, of course, during this interval, and had

come to understand Lee Fu's urgent advice. Indeed, for one curious

about the habits of the human species, Wilbur compelled attention. That

perfect urbanity, that air of unfailing dignity and confidence, that

aura of a commanding personality, of an able ship-master among his

brethren, of a man whose position in the world was secure beyond

peradventure: all this could spring from one of only two spiritual

conditions--either from a quiet and innocent conscience, or from a heart

perfectly attuned to villainy. As he sat among us, taking up his proper

word in the conversation, assuming no mask, showing no concern, it was

with the utmost difficulty that one placed him as a man with a dark

past, with a damnable blot on his escutcheon. So unconscious was his

poise that one often doubted the evidence of memory, and found oneself

going back over the record, only to fetch up point-blank against the

incontestable fact that he had stolen his ship and betrayed his

profession. By Jove, it seemed fantastic! Here he was, to all intents

and purposes a gentleman; a likeable fellow, too, in many ways. He

talked well, was positive without being arbitrary, usually had a fair

and generous word for the issue under discussion, never indulged in

criticism; and above all, damn him, he sustained a reputation for expert

mastery over this profession to which he'd dealt such a foul blow.

"'It is a triumph of character!' Lee Fu used to repeat, as we compared

notes on the case from time to time. 'I think he has not been guilty of

a single minor error. His correctness is nothing short of diabolical.

It presages disaster, like too much fair weather in the typhoon season.

Wait and watch; mark my word, Captain, when the major error comes it

will be a great tragedy'

"'Must there be a major error?' I asked, falling into the mood of Lee

Fu's exaggerated concern 'He's carried it off so far with the greatest

ease'

"'Yes, with the greatest ease' said Lee Fu thoughtfully 'Yet I begin to

wonder whether he has been properly put to the test. See how the world

protects him! Sometimes I am appalled. It is as if we wrapped the doers

of evil in cotton wool, so that not even rudeness might disturb them.

He has merely maintained a perfect silence, and the world has done the

rest. It has seemed more anxious to forget his crime than he to have it

forgotten. So he lives with impunity, as it were. But he is not

invulnerable. Life will challenge him yet ... it must be ... life,

which is truth, and not the world. Can a man escape the anger and

justice of the gods? That is why I concern myself with him--to know his

final destiny'

"'You admit, then, that he's not the incarnate criminal you once thought

him' I chaffed, unable to take the matter so deeply to heart 'He may be

only a stupid fool with a wooden face and naturally good manners....'

"'Not stupid' Lee Fu interrupted 'Yet, on the other hand, not

exceptional, not superior to life. Such faultless power of will is in

itself no mean part of ability. He is, as you might say,

self-centred--most accurately self-centred. But the challenge of the

gods displaces the centre of all. He will be like a top that is done

spinning. A little breath may topple him at last. Wait and see....

But, for the present, it is evident that were is nothing more to be

learned. The mask is inscrutable'

"Thinking the case over at sea, I often laughed to myself over Lee Fu's

intensity. Voyage followed voyage; at one time when I had just come in

from Bankok and was on my way from the Jetty to Lee Fu's office, I

passed Captain Wilbur on the opposite side of Queen's Road. He waved a

hand to me as he turned the corner: at once it flashed across my mind

that I hadn't observed the _Speedwell_ in the roadstead as I came in.

When I had finished my business with Lee Fu, I asked him for an

explanation of Wilbur's presence in Hong Kong without his vessel.

"'You are mistaken, Captain--it has little significance' he answered

with a quizzical smile 'So, after all, you pay a little attention? The

fact is, the successful Captain Wilbur has retired from active service

on the sea. He is now a ship owner, nothing more, and has favoured Hong

Kong above all other ports as the seat of his retirement. He resides in

a fine house on Graham Terrace, and has three chairmen in white livery

edged with crimson.... Captain Nichols, you should steal a ship'

"'Who has gone in the _Speedwell_?' I inquired

"'An old friend of ours, one Captain Turner' said Lee Fu slowly,

glancing in my direction.

"'Not Will Turner?'

"'The same'

"I pursed up my mouth in a silent whistle. Will Turner in the

_Speedwell_! Poor fellow, he must have lost another of his ill-starred

vessels. Hard luck seemed to pursue him. One ship would be sold from

under his command; several he had lost in deep water, by fire, storm or

old age; another had sprung a leak in the Java Sea, to be condemned a

little later when he had worked her into Batavia. A capable sailor and

an honest man; yet life had afforded him nothing but a succession of

hard blows and heavy falls. Death and sorrow, too; he had buried a wife

and child, swept off by cholera, in the Bay of Bengal. A dozen years

before, Turner and I had landed together in the China Sea, and were

thrown much in each other's company; I knew his heart, his history, some

of his secrets, and liked him tremendously for the man he was.

"Watching Lee Fu in silence, I thought again of the relationship between

Will Turner and this extraordinary Chinaman. I won't go into that story

now, but there were overwhelming reasons why these two should think well

of each other; why Lee Fu should respect and honour Captain Turner, and

why Turner should consider Lee Fu his best friend. It had come about as

the result of an incident of Turner's early days in the East; an

incident of a ship, a rascal and a doctored charter-party, that might

have turned into an ugly business save for the conduct and perspicacity

of the two chief victims. It had thrown them violently together; ever

since, they had kept the bond close and hidden, as became men of

reserve. Probably I was the only man in the world who knew how strong

it was.

"And now Turner had taken Wilbur's ship. Strange how this new

development seemed to impinge on Lee Fu's fancy, how it brought the

Wilbur case nearer home. The next moment, of course, the impression had

passed; and I saw that, instead of marking another stroke of ill-luck

for Turner, it might spell the beginning of good fortune.

"'What happened to the old _Altair_?' I asked. Turner had commanded a

trading packet of that name three months before.

"'She was bought by certain parties for a store-ship, and now lies

moored on Kowloon-side' answered Lee Fu 'I was about to make a proposal

to Captain Turner, when this plan came forward' he went on, as if

excusing himself 'I did not know of it until he had actually accepted.

I said everything in my power to dissuade him...'

"'What's the trouble? Didn't Wilbur do the right thing by him?' I

asked.

"'Captain, you are perverse. The business arrangement is immaterial.

It is unthinkable that our friend should command a ship for such a man.

The jealous gods have not yet shown their hand'

"'Nonsense, Lee Fu!' I exclaimed, finding myself irritated at the

out-cropping of the old conceit 'Since the thing is done, hadn't we

better try to be practical in our attitude?'

"'Exactly' said Lee Fu 'Let us be practical.... Captain Nichols, is it

impossible for the Caucasian to reason from cause to effect? There

seems to be no logic in your design--which explains many curious facts

of history. I have merely insisted, in our consideration of this case,

that a man who would do one thing would do another, and that sooner or

later life would inevitably present him with another thing to do'

"'But I've known too many men who escaped what you call destiny' I

argued peevishly.

"'Have you?' inquired Lee Fu.

"He said no more, and we went out to tiffin"

*IV*

"That year I plunged into the Malay Archipelago for an extended cruise,

was gone seven months among the islands, and wasted another month coming

up the China Sea in order to dodge the tail-end of the typhoon season.

But luck favoured me, of course, since I wasn't in a hurry; and so it

happened that for the last three hundred miles across from Luzon I raced

with a typhoon after all, beating it to an anchorage in Hong Kong by a

margin of twelve hours. It was an exceptionally late storm; and the

late ones, you know, are the least dependable in their actions. Typhoon

signals were flying from the Peak as I came in; before the _Omega's_

sails were furled the sky to the eastward had lowered and darkened like

a shutter, and the wind had begun to whip in vicious gusts across the

harbour.

"I went ashore at once, for I carried important papers from Lee Fu's

chief agent in the islands. When I reached his outer office, I found it

full of gathering gloom, although it was still early afternoon. Sing

Toy immediately took in my name. In a moment I was ushered into the

familiar room where my friend sat beside a shaded lamp, facing a

teakwood desk inlaid with ivory and invariably bare, save for a

priceless Ming vase and an ornament of old green bronze.

"'Back again, Lee Fu' said I, placing the island letters on the desk

before him 'And just in time, it seems' A rising gust outside whined

along the street.

"He paid no attention to my greeting or the letters. 'Sit down,

Captain' said he 'I have bad news'

"'Yes?' I queried, somewhat alarmed at the vagueness of the

announcement. So far as I was aware, no matter that we shared between

us could result in 'bad news' said in such a tone.

"Folding his hands across his stomach and slightly bowing his head, he

gazed at me with a level upturned glance that without betraying

expression carried by its very immobility a hint of deep emotion.

"'It is as I told you' said he at last 'Now, perhaps, you will believe'

"'For Heaven's sake, what are you talking about?' I demanded 'Tell me

instantly what is wrong'

"He nodded slowly. 'There is plenty of time--and I will tell. It is

often said that the season that brings a late typhoon, as now, is also

ushered in by an early typhoon. So it was this season. A very severe

storm came down before its time, and almost without warning.... It was

this storm into whose face our late friend Captain Turner took his ship,

the _Speedwell_, sailing from Hong Kong for New York some four months

ago'

"'You don't mean that Turner has lost her?'

"'I regret to inform you, yes. Also, he has lost himself. Three days

after sailing, he met the typhoon outside, and was blown upon a lee

shore two hundred miles along the China Coast. In this predicament, he

cut away his masts and came to anchor. But his ship would not float,

and accordingly sank at her anchors....'

"'Sank at her anchors!' I exclaimed 'How could that be? A tight ship

never did such a thing'

"'Nevertheless, she sank there in the midst of the storm, and all on

board perished. Afterwards, the news was reported from shore, and the

hull of the _Speedwell_ was discovered in ten fathoms of water. There

has been talk of trying to save the ship; and Captain Wilbur himself,

her owner, in a diver's suit, has inspected the wreck. Surely, he

should be well-fitted to save her again, if it were possible! He says

no, and it is reported that the insurance companies are in agreement

with him. That is, they have decided that he cannot turn the trick a

second time' Lee Fu's voice dropped to a rasping tone 'The lives,

likewise, cannot be saved'

"I sat for some moments in silence, gazing at the green bronze dragon on

the desk. Turner gone? A friend's death is shocking, even though it

makes so little difference. And between us, too, there had been a

bond.... I was thinking of the personal loss, and had missed the

significance of Lee Fu's phraseology. I looked up at him blankly; found

him still regarding me with up-turned eyes, his chin sunk lower on his

breast.

"'That is not all' said he suddenly.

"I sat up as if under the impact of a blow. Across my mind raced

thoughts of all that might happen to a man on that abandoned coast.

'What more?' I asked.

"'Listen, Captain, and pay close attention. I have investigated with

great care, and am fully satisfied that no mistake has been made. You

must believe me.... Some weeks after the departure and loss of the

_Speedwell_, word came to my ears that a man had a tale worth hearing.

You know how information reaches me, and that my sources run through

unexpected channels among my people. This man was brought; he proved to

be a common coolie, a lighter-man who had been employed in the loading

of the _Speedwell_. Note how slight chance may lead to serious

occasions. This coolie had been gambling during the dinner hour, and

had lost the small sum that he should have taken home as the product of

several days' labour. Like many others, he feared his wife, and

particularly her mother, who was a shrew. In a moment of desperation,

as the lighter was preparing to leave the vessel for the night, he

escaped from the others and secreted himself in the _Speedwell's_ lower

hold, among the bales of merchandise. What he planned is hard to tell;

it does not matter.

"'This happened while yet the ship's lower hold was not quite filled'

Lee Fu went on after a pause 'The coolie, as I said, secreted himself in

the cargo, well forward, for he had entered by the fore hatch. There he

remained many hours, sleeping, and when he awoke, quietness had

descended on the deck above. He was about to climb into the

between-decks, the air below being heavy with the odours of the cargo,

when he heard a sound on the ladder that led down from the upper deck.

It was a sound of quiet steps, mingled with a faint metallic rattling.

In a moment a foot descended on the floor of the between-decks, and a

lantern was cautiously lighted. The coolie retreated quickly to his

former hiding place, from which post he was able to see all that went

on'

"Again Lee Fu paused, as if lingering in imagination over the scene.

'It seems that this late and secret comer into the hold of the

_Speedwell_ was none other than her owner, Captain Wilbur' he slowly

resumed 'The coolie knew his face; a distant cousin had once been in

the employment of the Wilbur household, and the man was already aware

whose ship it was. Most of the inner facts of life are disseminated

through the gossip of servants, and are known to a wide circle.

Furthermore, as the lighter had been preparing to depart that evening,

this coolie had seen the owner come on board in his own sampan.

Afterwards, through my inquiries among sampan-men and others, I learned

that Captain Turner had spent that night on shore. It was Captain

Wilbur's custom, it seems, frequently to sleep on board his ship when

she lay here in port; the starboard stateroom was kept in readiness for

him. So he had done this night--and he had been alone in the cabin'

"'What was he doing in the hold with a lantern?' I asked, unable to

restrain my impatience.

"'Exactly ... you shall hear. I was obliged to make certain deductions

from the story of the coolie, for he was not technically acquainted with

the internal construction of a vessel. Yet what he saw was perfectly

obvious to the most ignorant eye.... Have you ever been in the lower

hold of the _Speedwell_, Captain Nichols?'

"'No, I haven't'

"'But you recall the famous matter of her bow-ports, do you not?'

"'Yes, indeed. I was in Singapore when they were cut'

"The incident came back to me at once, in full detail. There had been a

cargo of ironwood on the beach, destined for the repair of a temple

somewhere up the Yang-tse-kiang; among it were seven magnificent sticks

of timber, each over a hundred feet in length and forty inches square at

the butt--these were for columns, I suppose. It had been necessary to

find a large ship to take this cargo from Singapore to Shanghai; the

_Speedwell_ had finally accepted the charter. In order to load the

immense column-timbers, she had been obliged to cut bow-ports of

extraordinary size; fifty inches in depth they were, and nearly seven

feet in width, according to my recollection--the biggest bow-ports on

record.

"'It has been my privilege' Lee Fu went on 'to examine the fore-peak of

the _Speedwell_ when these ports were in and her hold was empty. I had

once chartered the ship, and felt alarmed for her safety until I had

seen the interior fastenings of those great windows which, when she was

loaded, looked out into the deep sea. But my alarm was groundless.

There was a most ingenious device for strengthening the bows where they

had been weakened by the cutting of the ports. Four or five timbers had

been severed; but these had been reproduced on the port itself, and the

whole was fashioned like a massive door. It lifted upward on immense

wrought iron hinges, a hinge to every timber; when it was lowered into

its place, gigantic bars of iron, fitted into brackets on the adjoining

timbers, stretched across its inner face to hold it against the impact

of the waves. At the bottom there were additional fastenings. Thus the

port, when tightly caulked from without, became an integral part of the

hull; I was told, and could believe it, that there had never been a

trace of leakage from her bows. Most remarkable of all, I was told that

when it became necessary to lift these ports for use, the task could

easily be accomplished by two or three men and a stout watch-tackle....

This, also, I am prepared to believe'

"There seemed to be a general drift to Lee Fu's rambling narrative, but

I hadn't yet caught sight of a logical denouement. 'To resume the story

of the coolie' he continued with exasperating deliberation 'This, in

plain language, is what he saw. Our friend, Captain Wilbur, descended

into the lower hold, and worked his way forward to the fore-peak, where

there was little cargo. There he laboured with great effort for several

hours; you will recall that he is a vigorous man. He had equipped

himself with a short crowbar, and carried a light tackle wrapped about

his body beneath the coat. The tackle he loosened and hung to a hook

above the middle of the port; I take it that he had brought this gear

merely for the purpose of lowering easily the iron cross bars, so that

they would make no noise. Had one fallen...'

"'Good God, Lee Fu, what are you trying to tell me?'

"'Merely occurrences. Many quite impossible things, Captain,

nevertheless get themselves done in the dark, in secret places, out of

sight and mind.... So, with the short crowbar he pried loose little by

little the iron braces to the port, slinging them in his tackle and

dropping them softly one by one into the ship's bottom. It was a heavy

task; the coolie said that sweat poured from the big man like rain. Yet

he was bent on accomplishment, and persevered until he had done the job.

Later he removed all the additional port fastenings; last of all he

covered the cross-bars with dunnage, and rolled against the bow several

bulky bales of matting to conceal the crime.... Captain, when the

_Speedwell_ sailed from Hong Kong on her last voyage in command of our

honoured friend one of her great bowports below the water hung on its

hinges without internal fastenings, held in place only by the tightness

of the caulking. The first heavy sea...'

"'Can it be possible?' said I through clenched teeth.

"'Oh, yes, so easily. It happened, and has become a part of life. As I

told you, I have investigated with scrupulous care; my men dare not tell

me lies'

"I was still trying to get my bearings, to grasp a clue. 'But why

should he do it, Lee Fu? Had he anything against Turner?'

"'Not at all. You do not seem to understand. He was tired of the

vessel, and freights were becoming very poor. He wanted the insurance.

He now assures himself that he had no thought of disaster; one could

hardly foresee an early typhoon. He had it in mind for the ship to sink

discreetly, in pleasant weather, so that all hands might escape.... Yet

he was willing to run the risk of wholesale murder. Remember how he

sweated at the task, there in the fetid air of the lower hold. It was

absentee murder, if you will; he did not contemplate, he was not forced

to contemplate, the possible results of his act on the lives of

others.... What do you think now, Captain, of a man who will betray his

profession?'

"I got up abruptly and began to pace the floor. The damnable affair had

made me sick at heart, and a little sick at the stomach. What to

think?--what to believe? It seemed incredible, fantastic; there must be

some mistake.... While I was pacing, Lee Fu changed his position. He

faced the desk, stretched out an arm, and put his palm flat down on the

polished surface.

"'Thus the gods have struck' said he, in that changeless voice that

seemed an echo of the ages 'There is blood at last,

Captain--twenty-seven lives, and among them one dear to us--enough to

convince even one of your race that a crime has been committed. But my

analysis was seriously in error. The criminal, it seems, is destined

not to suffer. He continues to go about carried by three men in white

and crimson livery, his belly full of food and wine. Others have paid

the price. Instead of toppling, his life spins on with renewed

momentum. My query has been answered; he has escaped the gods'

"'Can't you rip the case open, jostle his security? Isn't there some

way...?'

"'No way' said Lee Fu with a shake of the head 'You forget the fine

principle of extraterritoriality, which you have so kindly imposed on us

by force of arms. Captain Wilbur is not subject to Chinese justice;

your own courts have exclusive jurisdiction over him, his kind, and all

their works. No, Captain, he is amply protected. What could I

accomplish in your courts with this fanciful accusation, and for

witnesses a coolie and a sampan-man?'

"I continued to pace the floor, thinking dark thoughts. There was a

way, of course ... between man and man; but such things aren't done any

longer by civilized people. We're supposed not to go about with

firearms, privately meting out justice. We are domesticated. Whatever

the thoughts I might have harboured, in the first anger of the

realization of wrong, I knew very well that I shouldn't act on them.

Lee Fu was right, there was nothing to be done; the man had made good

his escape from the hand of destiny.

"Pacing rapidly, as if pursued by a veritable phantom of crime, and

oblivious of everything but the four walls of the room, I nearly floored

the chief clerk, Sing Toy, as he pattered in with a message from the

outer office. He ducked, slipped behind the lamp, and began whispering

in Lee Fu's ear.

"'_Ah!_' exclaimed Lee Fu sharply.

"I started, whirled around in my tracks. His voice had lost the level,

passive tone; it had taken on the timbre of action. Suddenly, with a

quick rustle of silken garments, he stood up behind the desk; the abrupt

motion threw his shadow across the floor and up the opposite wall. With

a subtle thrill of anticipation, I felt the profound psychic change that

had come over my friend. The very air of the room had quickened before

that single exclamation, as if a cold breeze had blown through.... A

breeze, indeed, was at that moment trying hard to find an entrance; the

absolute silence of the room brought out in sharp relief the tumult

outside, the hoarse voice of the rising gale. We stood as if listening.

I looked at Lee Fu, caught his eye. It was charged with energy and

purpose, with something like relief--like the eye of a man who has made

up his mind after a long period of bewilderment, who begins to

understand....

"'Send him in, alone' said he in Chinese to Sing Toy, now at the outer

door.

"'Who is it?' I asked hoarsely.

"'The man we have been speaking of'

"'Wilbur? What the devil...?'

"'He merely dropped in as he was passing, to make a call' said Lee Fu,

speaking rapidly 'So he thinks--but I think otherwise' Leaning forward

across the desk, he fixed me with an extended arm that trembled slightly

before it found its aim. 'Keep silence' he commanded 'Beware of word or

glance. This chanced by predestination. We are on the threshold of the

gods'

*V*

Lee Fu remained standing as Captain Wilbur entered the room. His

hurried admonition still rang in my ears 'Keep silence--beware of word

or glance!' But I couldn't have spoken; had I opened my mouth just

then, it would have been only to emit a snarl of anger. To beware of

glances was a different matter. The task might be easy enough for Lee

Fu, with that perfect self-control of his that extended to the last

nerve of his eyelids and the last muscle of his fingertips; but for my

part I was spiritually incapable, as it were, of keeping rage and

abomination out of my eyes. I stood as if rooted to the floor, gazing

point-blank at Wilbur with a stare that must have made him wonder about

my sanity. For, of course, he hadn't the slightest suspicion that we

knew what we knew.

"'Good afternoon, Captain Wilbur' said Lee Fu blandly 'Do you seek

refuge from the storm? ... I think you are acquainted with Captain

Nichols, of the barque _Omega_. He arrived this morning from the

Celebes'

"'Oh, how do you do, Nichols' said Wilbur, advancing down the room

'I've missed you around town for a good while, it seems to me. So you've

been off on one of your famous exploring trips? Then you'll have a lot

to tell us. I suppose you had the usual assortment of romantic and

tragic adventures?'

"I drew back behind the desk, to escape shaking his hand. 'No' I

answered 'nothing like the adventure that awaited me here'

"He settled himself in a chair, directly in range of the light; smiled,

and lifted his eyebrows. 'So...? Well, I can believe you. This office,

you know, is the heart of all adventure. The most romantic room in the

East--presided over by the very genius of romance' He bowed toward Lee

Fu, and touched a match to a long Manila. 'Genius, or demon, which is

it, now?' he chuckled, his eyes twinkling from Lee Fu to me.

"'You honour me, Captain' interposed Lee Fu quickly, cutting me off from

the necessity of speaking. 'If, indeed, you do not flatter. I merely

observe and live. It is life that may be called the heart of all

adventure--life, with its amazing secrets that one by one transpire into

the day, and with its enormous burden of evil that weighs us down like

slaves'

"Wilbur laughed. 'Yes, that's it, no doubt. But there's some good, too,

Lee Fu--plenty of good. Don't be a pessimist. Yet you're right enough

in a way; the evil always does manage to be more romantic'

"'Much more romantic' observed Lee Fu 'And the secrets are more romantic

still. Consider, for instance, the case of a man with a dark secret that

by chance has become known, though he is not aware of the fact. How

infinitely romantic! He feels secure; yet inevitably it will be

disclosed. When, and how? Such a case would be well worth watching ...

as the great poet had in mind when he wrote "Murder will out"'

"The winged words made no impression on their mark. Wilbur met Lee Fu's

glance frankly, innocently, with interest and even with a trace of

amusement at the other's flight of fancy. The full light of the lamp

illuminated his features, the least fleeting expression couldn't have

escaped us. By Jove, he was superb; the damned rascal hadn't a nerve in

his body. To be sure, he still had no suspicion, and attributed Lee

Fu's shaft to a mere chance; yet this very factor of safety lent

additional point to the finish of his dissimulation. He might at least

have indulged himself in a start, a glance, a knitting of the eyebrows;

his conscience, or his memory if he hadn't a conscience, might have

received a faint surprise. But his watchfulness must have been

unfailing, automatic. Or was it that a reminder of his appalling crime

woke no echo at all in his breast?

"I examined him closely. Above a trimmed brown beard his cheeks showed

the ruddy colour of health and energy; his eyes were steady, his mouth

was strong and clean, a head of fine grey hair surmounted a high

forehead; the whole aspect of his countenance was pleasing and

dignified. He had good hands, broad yet closely knit, and ruddy with

the same glow of health that rose in his face. He was dressed neatly in

a plain blue serge suit, with square-toed russet shoes encasing small

feet, a dark bow-tie at his throat, and a narrow gold watch chain strung

across his vest. Sitting at ease, with an arm thrown over the

chair-back and one ankle resting on the other knee, he presented a fine

figure of a man, a figure that might have been that of a prosperous and

benevolent merchant, a man who had passed through the world with merit

and integrity, and now was enjoying his just reward.

"He gave a hearty laugh. 'For the Lord's sake, you fellows, come on out

of the gloom!' he cried 'A pretty state of mind you seem to have worked

yourselves into, hobnobbing here behind closed doors. I drop in for a

chat, and find a couple of blue devils up to their ears in the sins of

humanity. Nichols, over there, is just as bad as the other; he's

scarcely opened his mouth since I came in. What's the matter? ... You

have to fight these moods, you know' he quizzed 'It doesn't do to let

them get the upper hand'

"'It is the mood of the approaching storm' said Lee Fu quietly 'We have

been speaking of typhoons, and of the fate that they sometimes bring to

men'

"A fiercer squall than the last shook the building; it passed in a

moment, ceasing suddenly, as if dropping us somewhere in mid-air.

Wilbur was the first to speak after the uproar.

"'Yes, it's going to be another terror, I'm afraid. A bad night to be

on the water, gentlemen. I shouldn't care to be threshing around

outside, now, as poor Turner was such a short time ago'

"I could have struck him across the mouth for the shocking callousness

of the words. A bad night outside! He dared to speak of it; he,

sitting there so comfortably, so correctly, alive and well, glad to be

safe in port and sorry for those afloat--the same remorseless devil who

had sent Turner to his doom.

"Lee Fu's voice fell like oil on a breaking sea. 'All signs point to

another severe typhoon. But, as I was telling Captain Nichols, these

late storms are often irregular--like the early ones.... It happened,

Captain Wilbur, that the loss of the _Speedwell_ was the subject we were

discussing when you came in'

"'Too bad--too bad' said Wilbur soberly, as if overcome by thoughts of

the disaster 'You were away, Nichols, weren't you? Of course!--then

you've just heard of it. It was a bad week here, I can tell you, after

the news came in. I shall never forget it.... Well, we take our

chances....'

"'Some of us do, and some of us don't' I snapped.

"'That's just the way I felt about it, at the time' said he simply 'I

didn't feel right, to have both feet on the ground. Seemed as if there

must have been something we could have done, something we had neglected.

It came home hard to me'

"My jaw fairly dropped as I listened to the man. Something he had

neglected? ... Was it possible that he liked to talk about the affair?

He didn't seem anxious to turn the conversation.

"'Captain Nichols and I were wondering' observed Lee Fu 'why it was that

the _Speedwell_ did not remain afloat, after she had cast her anchors.

Neither of us can recall another incident of the kind. What is your

opinion, Captain Wilbur; you have examined the hull, as it lies on the

bottom'

"'It isn't a matter of opinion' Wilbur answered 'Haven't I told you?--I

thought I'd seen you since the inspection. I put on a diver's suit, you

know, Nichols, and went down.... Why, the simple explanation is, her

starboard bow-port in the lower hold is stove in. It must have happened

after she came to anchor. She lay there just scooping up water at every

plunge--filled and sank as she lay. I've always been afraid of those

big bow-ports; the moment I heard of the peculiar circumstances of the

disaster, I knew in my heart what had happened'

"'Did you?' inquired Lee Fu, with a slight hardening of the voice

'Strange--but so did I'

"Wilbur gazed at him questioningly, knitting his brows. 'Oh, yes, I

remember. I was wondering how you happened to think of her bow-ports.

But you told me that you had examined them....'

"'Yes, I examined them.... Captain Wilbur, have you collected your

insurance money?' The question came with an abruptness that marked a

change of tactics; to me, who knew Lee Fu so well, it obviously marked

the first turning point in some as yet impenetrable plan.

"Wilbur frowned and glanced up sharply, very properly offended. The

next moment he had decided to pass it off as an instance of alien

manners. 'As a matter of fact, I've just cleaned up to-day' he replied

brusquely 'Had my final settlement with Lloyds this morning--and did a

silly thing, as a fellow will sometimes. You know, they had a package

of large denomination bank notes in the office, crisp, wonderful looking

fellows; I took a sudden fancy for them, and in a moment of childishness

asked to have my money in that form. They chaffed me a good deal, but I

stuck to it. You'd hardly believe, would you, that a fellow would be

such a fool? I can prove it to you, though; I've got those bills in my

pocket now. By Jove, that reminds me--what time is it getting to be? I

must leave them at the bank before it closes'

"'What is the total amount of the bank notes that you have in your

possession?' asked Lee Fu in a level tone that carried its own insult.

Wilbur plainly showed his astonishment now. 'The total amount? ... Well,

if you want all the details, I have about forty thousand dollars in my

pocket. I'm not aware, however, that it's any concern of yours....'

"Lee Fu shot at me a stare full of meaning; it might have been a look of

caution, or a glance of triumph. I was expected to understand

something; but for the life of me I couldn't catch the drift of the

situation. Confused by the terrific struggle to keep my mouth shut, I

only perceived that a crisis was impending.

"'As I was saying, I once examined the bow-ports of the _Speedwell_' Lee

Fu calmly resumed. 'At that time, I satisfied myself as to their

construction; unlike you, Captain Wilbur, I could not be afraid of them.

When properly fastened, they were impregnable to any danger of the

sea.... And I remember, Captain, that it occurred to me, as I examined

their fastenings, how easily these ports could be loosened from within,

by anyone who desired to sink the vessel. The iron cross-bars could be

lifted from their brackets by a single strong man; with a small tackle

they could be dropped without noise into the bottom. No one need know of

it; and, lo, the ship would sail to meet her destiny riding on the

waves. Has the thought ever occurred to you, Captain Wilbur?'

"Wilbur's air of mingled repugnance and perplexity was innocence itself.

'I can't say that it has' he answered shortly 'Your imagination is a

little morbid, Lee Fu--I won't say worse. Who would want to sink the

_Speedwell_, I'd like to know?'

"'Who, indeed?' observed Lee Fu, staring at Wilbur with a steady, biting

gaze. As he stared, he reached out slowly with his right hand and

opened the top drawer of the desk. Suddenly he stood up. The hand held

a revolver, which pointed with an unwavering aim at Wilbur's breast.

"'If you move from your chair, Captain, I will shoot you dead, and your

end will never be known' said he rapidly, throwing a cold determination

into his voice 'It is time we came to an understanding, for the day

wanes'

"Wilbur uncrossed his legs, leaned forward, and looked at Lee Fu

narrowly. 'What's the joke?' he demanded.

"'A joke that will be clear as time goes on--like one you played with

bow-ports on my friend.... Captain, we are about to go on a journey.

Will you join us, Captain Nichols, or will you remain on shore?'

"The question was perfunctory; whatever was in the wind, Lee Fu knew

that my decision rested in his hands. I stood up--for until now I'd

been chained to my chair by the amazing turn of the moment.

"'Bow-ports?...' Wilbur was saying 'Put that gun down. What in hell do

you mean?' He started to rise.

'Sit down!' commanded Lee Fu 'I mean that I will shoot. This is not

play' Their eyes met in a sharp struggle, which Lee Fu won. Wilbur sank

back, angry and confused.

"'Are you crazy, Lee Fu?' he growled 'What is it--do you want to rob me?

What's the meaning of this nonsense, Nichols? Have both of you gone

mad?'

"'No, Captain' interposed Lee Fu 'But we have found a man who wanted to

sink the _Speedwell_,, and we wish to observe him under certain

conditions.... Is it possible that you do not as yet comprehend that I

share your secret? You were seen, Captain, that black and cruel night

in the forepeak; and those details, also, are known to me. It is

needless to dissemble longer'

"'That night in the forepeak? ... For God's sake, Lee Fu, what are you

talking about? Nichols, this is too ridiculous! Tell me the answer, and

get over with it'

"'Ah!' exclaimed Lee Fu with something like satisfaction 'You are

worthy of the occasion, Captain. It will be most interesting'

"He slapped his palm sharply on the desk; Sing Toy appeared at the door

as if by a mechanical arrangement. 'Bring oilskin coats and hats for

three' Lee Fu commanded 'Also send in haste to my cruising sampan, with

orders to prepare for an immediate journey. Have water and food

prepared for a week. We come within the half-hour, and will sail

without delay'

"'Master!' protested Sing Toy breathlessly--their words, in rapid

Chinese, were wholly unintelligible to Wilbur. 'Master, the typhoon!'

He glanced at the revolver in Lee Fu's hand, then raised his eyes to the

wall that smothered the tumult of the gale.

"'I know, fool' answered Lee Fu 'I am neither deaf nor blind. But it

is necessary to sail. Go, quickly, do as I say'

"He sat down, resting the revolver on the corner of the desk, and

resumed his former tone of bland conversation 'I am sorry, gentlemen,

that the rain has already come; but there is water also below, as

Captain Wilbur should be well aware. Yes, it was destined from the

first that this should be a wet journey. Yet it will be possible still

to breathe; not quite so bad as solid water all around, where after a

grim struggle one lies at rest, neither caring nor remembering....

Captain Wilbur, attend to what I say. We go from this office to my

sampan, which lies moored at the bulkhead, not far away. During the

walk, you will precede us. I shall hold my revolver in my hand--and I

am an excellent shot. If you attempt to escape, or to communicate with

any passerby--if you call for help, or even disclose by your manner the

strangeness of the occasion--you will immediately be dead. Bear this in

mind. And do not think that I should fear the consequences; we shall

pass through Chinese streets, where action of mine would not be

questioned'

"'Damn you!' Wilbur burst out 'What crazy nonsense are you up to?

Nichols, will you permit this? Where are you taking me?'

"'Never mind' replied Lee Fu 'As for Captain Nichols, he knows, if

anything, less than you do about it. He, also, is at my mercy.... Ah,

here are the raincoats. Put one on, Captain Wilbur; you will need it

sorely before your return. Now we must hurry. I would be clear of the

harbour before darkness falls entirely'

*VI*

"As we issued from the doorway, the gale caught us with a swirl that

carried us round the corner and down a side street before we could get

our breath. 'To the right' Lee Fu shouted. Wilbur, lurching ahead,

obeyed sullenly. We came about and made for the water front through the

fringe of the Chinese quarter--the most remarkable trio, perhaps, that

had ever threaded those familiar thoroughfares. Few people were abroad;

a Chinaman now and then scurried to cover in our path, and more

infrequently we caught sight of a stray European in the distance, called

out somewhere by the exigencies of business.

"Overhead, the sky had settled low on the slope of the Peak, cutting off

the heights from view; it presented the aspect of a heavy leaden roof,

spreading above the mainland to northward, fitting tight along the

horizon, and seeming to compress the whole atmosphere. Torrents of rain

fell from the frequent squalls; the running water in the streets spurted

about our ankles. We floundered on, enveloped in a sort of grey gloom

like that of an eclipse. When we reached the harbour, the face of the

bay had undergone a sinister change; its yellow-green waters were lashed

into sickly foam, and shrouded by an unnatural gleaming darkness. A

distant moaning sound ran through the upper air, vague yet distinctly

audible. It was evident to the practised eye that the southern margin

of the typhoon wasn't far away; with the wind in this quarter, its

centre was headed straight in our direction.

"As we staggered along the quay, my thoughts worked rapidly. The wind

and the open had cleared my mind as to the swift events of the last

half-hour; I began to perceive the plan, now, and immediately recognized

the dangerous nature of the undertaking on which we'd embarked. It was

to be a game of bluff, in which we should have to risk our lives if the

other held his ground. I'd seen Lee Fu in action; I knew that he would

hesitate at nothing, since his face was committed to the enterprise.

"I edged toward him. 'Will you go on the water?' I asked close to his

ear.

"He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on Wilbur.

"'But it can't be done' I told him 'A boat won't live....'

"'There is always a definite alternative' he replied.

"'Yes, that she sinks'

"'Exactly'

"I drew away, reviewing the details once more.... All at once, in a

flash of enlightenment, the greatness of the occasion came to me. By

Jove! Lee Fu had taken the matter into his own hands, he had stepped in

where the gods were impotent. But not rudely, as men are apt to do in

sudden passion; not with blood and vengeance, an eye for an eye, and a

tooth for a tooth. No, he had observed the divine proprieties; had

recognized that if he presumed to act for the gods, he must throw his

own life as well into the balance. He himself must run every risk. It

was for them, after all, to make the final choice. His part was to force

action on the gods.

"I gazed at him in wonder--and with more than a flurry of alarm. He

advanced stiffly against the storm, walking like an automaton; his

expression was absolutely inscrutable. Beneath the close-pulled rim of

a black sou'wester his smooth, oval countenance looked ridiculously

vacant, like the face of a placid moon. He was the only calm object in

earth, sea, or sky; against the lashing rain, the dancing boats, the

scudding clouds, the hurried shadows of appearing and vanishing men, he

stood out solidly, a different essence, the embodiment of mind and will.

Only these could have been superior to the grosser temptation; only

these could have met the test, and risen to the awful stratagem.

"And how was it with Wilbur, off there in the lead? He, too, walked

stiffly, wrapped in thought. Once he turned round, as if to come back

and speak to us; then whirled with a violent movement of decision and

plunged on into the rain. He must have known, by now, what it was all

about, if not what to expect. He must have known that his crime had

been discovered. Yet he had made no break; in no particular had he

given himself away. What had he been about to say?--what had he

decided? To hold on, of course, maintain the bluff--for he could not

believe that we knew all. Would he confess, when he faced death on the

water? How long would he hold on?

"Observing his broad back, his commanding figure, that looked thoroughly

at home in its oilskin coat and leaning against the storm, it came to me

that he would put up a desperate defence before he succumbed. He, too,

was a strong man, and no part of a coward; he, too, in a different way,

was a superior being, the embodiment of mind and will. I didn't

under-estimate him. Indeed, he was worthy of the occasion and of his

adversary. It was to be a battle of the giants, with typhoon for

background and accompaniment.

"Then, for an instant, my own spirit went slump with the realization of

what might lie ahead, and a great weakness overcame me. I edged again

toward Lee Fu.

"'My God, suppose the man is really innocent?' I cried 'He hasn't

turned a hair....'

"Lee Fu gave me a flash of the moon-face beneath the sou'wester.

"'Have no fear, my friend' said he 'I am completely satisfied, in

regions where the soul dwells. It has begun very well'

*VII*

"When we reached the sampan, lying under a weather shore beneath the

bulkhead, we found a scene of consternation. Lee Fu's orders had

arrived and been executed; yet the men couldn't believe that he actually

meant to sail. Gathered in a panic-stricken group on the fore deck of

the sampan, they chattered like a flock of magpies; their gleaming wet

bodies writhed in wild gestures under the half-light. As they caught

sight of us, they swarmed across the bulkhead and fell at Lee Fu's feet,

begging for mercy.

"'Up dogs!' he cried 'There is no danger. I shall steer; and it is

necessary that we go. If any would remain, let them depart now, with no

tale to tell. Let those who stay prepare at once for sea'

"Not a man made a move to go; the presence and voice of the master had

reassured them. Without another word, they rose and filed on board.

"I found Wilbur beside me. 'What is this madness, Nichols?' he demanded

for the last time 'Are you fool enough to go on the water in that

craft? What has that lunatic been saying to the men?--I don't

understand their damned lingo'

"'He told his crew to prepare for sea' I answered shortly 'If he goes,

we all go. He says there is no danger'

"'Huh! You're a bigger fool than I took you for'

"A moment later we stood together on the quarter-deck of the cruising

sampan. Lee Fu took his station at the great tiller, that archaic

steering arrangement worked by blocks and tackles which the Chinese

cherish like the precepts of Confucius in the face of mechanical

invention. The wind lulled for a moment, as the trough of a squall

passed over. Lee Fu gave a few sharp orders. Moorings were cast off, a

pinch of sail was lifted forward. The big craft found her freedom with

a lurch and a stagger; then pulled herself together and left the land

with a steady rush, skimming dead before the wind across the smooth

weather reach of the harbour, and quickly losing herself in the murk and

spray that hung off Gowloon Point. If we were sighted from the fleet,

which is extremely doubtful, we were put down as a junk that had broken

adrift. Somehow Lee Fu managed to avoid the ships at anchor off Wanchi.

Straight down the length of the bay he struck; in an incredibly short

time we had left the harbour behind, and were whirling through the

narrow gut of Lymoon Pass before a terrific squall, bound for the open

sea.

"I watched Captain Wilbur. He stood in a careless attitude at the rail

in our race down the harbour, scanning the boat and the water with an

air of confidence and unconcern. A slight sneer curled his lip; he had

made up his mind to see the nonsense through. The sailor in him had

quickly recognized that the craft would stand the weather, so long as

she remained in quiet water. Probably he expected every minute that Lee

Fu would change his tactics and put into some sheltered cove.... But

when we shot through Lymoon Pass, I saw him turn and scrutinize the

Chinaman closely. Darkness was falling behind the murk, the real night

now; ahead of us lay a widening reach among the islands, that opened

abruptly on the main body of the China Sea. We were rapidly leaving the

protection of Victoria Island. Soon we should be unable to see our way.

Ten miles outside a high sea was running. And with every blast of wind

that held in the same quarter, the centre of the typhoon was bearing

down on us with unerring aim.

"These facts were as patent to Wilbur as to any of us. It was his

knowledge, of course, that finally was his undoing; had he been less of

a sailor, or had he been entirely ignorant of the sea, he could have

resigned himself to the situation, on the assumption that those who were

sailing the craft wouldn't put themselves in actual danger. Perhaps Lee

Fu had realized this when he'd chosen the sea as the medium of justice;

perhaps he had glimpsed the profound and subtle truth that Wilbur

couldn't properly be broken save in his native environment. He knew the

sea, he had trifled with it; then let him face the sea.

"The time came, just before we lost the loom of the land, when Wilbur

could stand it no longer; as a sailor, used to responsibility and

authority, he had to speak his mind. He knew that the situation was

growing very dangerous.... For my part, I had become convinced by now

that it was irretrievable; it began to look as if we'd burned our last

bridge behind us. I didn't pretend to understand; Lee Fu seemed

reckless beyond measure, he had apparently given away his cards without

trying to play them. One thing was certain--if some way couldn't be

found to hold up this mad race immediately, we should be forced in the

next five minutes to run the gauntlet of the typhoon in open water.

"Wilbur dropped aft beside Lee Fu, and made a funnel of his hands.

"'You're running to your death!' he shouted. 'Do you realize what you're

doing? You've already lost Pootoy. If you can't haul up and make the

lee of the Lema Islands...'

"'I intend to pass nowhere near them--and I know exactly what I am

doing' answered Lee Fu, keeping his eyes on the yawing bow of the

sampan.

"'There's nothing to the eastward ... no more shelter..."

"'Of that I am aware'

"'Do you know the meaning of _that_?' Wilbur pointed wildly above the

stern rail, into the face of the onrushing storm.

"'I think we shall get the centre of the typhoon, Captain, by noon of

tomorrow'

"Wilbur made a move as if to grasp the tiller. 'Haul up, you fool!...'

"A stray gleam in the gathering darkness caught the barrel of the

revolver, as Lee Fu steered for a moment with one hand.

"'Beware, Captain! You are the fool; would you broach us to, and end it

now? One thing alone will send me to seek the last shelter; and for

that thing I think you are not ready'

"'What?'

"'To say that you sank the _Speedwell_, as I have indicated'

"Wilbur gathered his strength as if to strike; his face was distorted

with passion.

"'You lie, you yellow hound!'

"'Exactly.... Captain, be careful--come no nearer! Also, leave me now,

and go away, for I have work to do. If you value your life, you will

keep silence, and stay a little forward. Go, quickly! Here I could

shoot you with even greater impunity'"

*VIII*

Nichols paused. "It may be that some of you fellows have never seen Lee

Fu's cruising sampan" he remarked "In reality she is more of a junk

than a sampan; a sizeable craft of over a hundred tons, the best product

of the Chinese shipyard. Lee Fu built her for trips along the coast,

where conditions of wind and weather are likely to be severe; many of

his own ideas, born of an expert knowledge of ships of every rig and

nationality, entered into her construction. The result is a distinctly

Chinese creation, a craft that in some unaccountable way seems to

reflect his own personality, that responds to his touch and works

mysteriously for him. She's higher in the bows than an ordinary junk,

and a trifle lower in the stern; a broad, shallow hull, requiring a

centreboard on the wind. She is completely decked over for heavy

weather. In charge of any one of us, perhaps, she would be fairly

unmanageable; but in Lee Fu's hands, I can assure you, she's a sea-boat

of remarkable attainments and a yacht of no insignificant speed.

"I had seen him handle her under difficult conditions, but never in such

a pass as this. How he accomplished it was inconceivable to me. The

last I saw of him that evening, he had called two men to help him at the

tiller; so far, he had managed to keep the craft before the wind.... He

continued to keep her before it throughout the night, running eastward

in open water along the China coast. That is to say, he must have kept

her before it--because we came through the night, alive and still

afloat. But how, I cannot tell.

"For hours I was alone with the elements, surrounded by pitchy blackness

and the storm. I clung to a stanchion, hardly changing my position

during the night, drenched by rain and spray, seeing nothing, hearing no

word of my companions. The gale roared above us with the peculiar

tearing sound that accompanies the body of a typhoon--a sound suggestive

of unearthly anger and violence, as if elemental forces were ripping up

the envelope of the universe--a sound that carries its own message of

latent power, of savage impulse, of unloosed destruction. The wind

gained steadily in volume; it picked up the sea in steep ridges of solid

water that flung us like a chip from crest to crest, or caught us, burst

above us, and swallowed us whole, as if we had suddenly sunk down a deep

well. From these plunges the sampan would emerge after a long interval,

like a fish coming up to blow. It seemed impossible that she could be

kept running; to come into the wind, however, would have been certain

disaster. Every moment I expected would be our last. Yet, as time wore

on, I felt, through the boat's frantic floundering, a touch of mastery.

Lee Fu steered--she still was under his control.

"So we came through, and saw the dawn. A pale, watery light crept

little by little across the east, disclosing a scene of terror beyond

description. The face of the sea was livid with flying yellow foam; the

torn sky hung closely over it like the fringe of a mighty waterfall. In

the midst of this churning cauldron our little craft seemed momentarily

on the point of disappearing, about to be engulfed by the sheer wrath of

the elements. It was a scene to compel the eye, while the heart whined

in fear for the return of darkness or the swift downfall of oblivion.

"In a lull of the storm my glance encountered Wilbur; for a long while

I'd forgotten him entirely. He hung to the rail a little farther

forward, gazing across the maelstrom with a fixed exhausted expression.

His face was haggard; the strain of the night had marked him with a

ruthless hand. As I watched him, his eyes turned slowly in my

direction; he gave me an anxious look, then crawled along the rail to a

place by my side.

"'Nichols, we're lost!' I heard him cry in my ear. The voice was

uneven, plaintive; it made me angry, and revived a few sparks of my own

courage.

"'What of it?' I cried harshly 'Turner was lost, too'

"'You believe that?...'

"I looked at him point-blank; his eyes suddenly shifted, he couldn't

face me now.

"'Why don't you own up, before it's too late?' I shouted at him.

"Without answering he moved away hastily, like innocence offended. But

the strong man was gone, the air of perfect confidence had disappeared;

he was shattered and spent, but not yet broken. Pride is a more

tenacious quality than courage; men with hearts of water, with their

knees knocking together, will continue to function through self-esteem.

Besides, what would have been the use now, as he saw it, to make

confession? Nothing, apparently, could save us; there was no shelter,

no hope in sight....

"Looking above his head, where the sky and the sea met in a blanket of

flying spume, I caught sight for an instant of something that resembled

the vague form of a headland. Watching closely, I saw it

again--unmistakeably the shadow of land, broad on the port bow....

Land! That meant that the wind had shifted to southward, that we were

being blown against the shore. And that, in turn, meant that the centre

of the typhoon had passed inland, behind Hong Kong, and would issue into

the China Sea somewhere down the coast.

"I worked my way cautiously aft, where Lee Fu stood like a man of iron

at the tiller, lashed to a heavy cross-rail that must have been

constructed for such occasions. He saw me coming, leaned slightly

toward me.

"'Land!' I shouted, pointing on the port bow.

"He nodded vigorously, disclosing that he'd already seen it. '...

Recognize...' The rest of his answer was blown away by the storm.

"By pantomime, I called his attention to the shift of wind. Again he

nodded--then ducked his head in Wilbur's direction, shouting something

that I couldn't quite follow. '... Change our tactics ...' was what I

understood him to say.

"What did he mean by that? My mind refused to function, save in

channels of fantastic conjecture. I'd gained the impression that he was

disappointed at the present turn of affairs. Had he depended on the

centre of the typhoon for his climax? Good God, had he wanted it to

catch us? As matters stood, it was only by the extreme grace of

providence that we remained alive. Now, it seems, something had

miscarried, we must change our tactics ... find some new horror to take

the place of the one that had passed us by.

"He beckoned me to come closer; grasping the cross-rail, I swung down

beside him.

"'I know our position' he cried in my ear 'Have no alarm, my friend.

There are two large islands, and a third behind them, small like a

button. Watch closely the button, while I steer. When it touches the

high headland of the second larger island, give me the news instantly'

"He had hauled the junk a trifle to port as he spoke, and now with every

opportunity began edging toward the land. Perilous business, in that

tremendous seaway; but he executed the manoeuvre with infinite patience

and caution, with consummate skill. Wilbur had now seen the land, had

straightened his figure and leaned forward, watching it intently.

Distances were veiled and distorted in that murky atmosphere; we were

nearer to the headland than I had at first supposed. For perhaps twenty

minutes we ran on, a tense new excitement tugging at our hearts. Then,

as we raced before the gale, I felt the sea begin to grow calmer;

glancing to windward, I saw on the horizon a fringe of spouting reefs,

and realized that we'd entered the zone of their protection. The tall

headland, which now revealed itself as the point of the second island,

grew plainer with every moment; soon I made out the island like a

button, and saw it closing rapidly on the land behind.

"'_Now!_' I shouted to Lee Fu, holding up both my arms, when the two

points of land had touched.

"He swung the sampan a couple of points to starboard, discovering close

beneath our bows the tip of another reef that stretched toward the land

diagonally across the path of the wind. In a moment we were abreast

this point of reef; a hundred yards away its spray lashed our decks, as

the low-lying black rocks caught the broken wash of the storm. Another

swing of the great tiller, and we had hauled up in the lee of the

reef--in quiet water at last, but with the gale still screaming overhead

like a defeated demon. We reached along this weather shore in a smother

of spray, until we came abruptly to the little island. This we passed

with a rush, and shot forward into a relatively smooth basin that lay

under the protection of the high headland on the larger island.

"It was like nothing but a return from hell. The wind held us in a solid

blast; but to feel the deck grow quiet, to be able to think, to speak,

to hear ... to see the land close aboard.... By Jove, we were

saved!--it seemed more incredible than the adventure itself. Heads

began to bob up forward, faces drawn with terror, frantic with

relief--the faces of men who had lost and found a world.

"A voice spoke gruffly beside us. 'By God, I hope you're satisfied!'

We turned to see Wilbur standing at the head of the cross-rail. A

twitching face belied the nonchalance that he'd attempted to throw into

the words. It was a new phase of the man; his former perfect poise was

stripped off like a mask, revealing an inner nature without force or

quality, a common empty soul. The very assumption of coolness, a reflex

of his over-powering relief, disclosed weakness instead of strength,

impotence instead of authority.

"'I don't know how we managed to come through!' he snarled 'In the name

of God, what made you try it? Nothing but luck--and now the typhoon's

leaving us. We can haul up here until the wind goes down'

"'Is that all, Captain, that you have to say?' inquired Lee Fu, his

attention still riveted on the course of the sampan.

"Wilbur clutched the rail as if he would tear it from its fastenings.

'A damned sight more, you blackguards, but I'll save that for the

authorities!'

"'You feel no thanks for your escape--and there is nothing on your

mind?'

"'We shouldn't have needed to escape, if you hadn't gone crazy. Come,

let's wind up this farce and get to anchor somewhere. I'm fagged out'

"'No, we are going on' said Lee Fu calmly, making no move to bring the

sampan into the wind 'No time for rest, Captain; the voyage is not

over'

"'Going on?...' Wilbur's glance swept the sea ahead. Until that

moment, I suppose, he thought he had won the battle; he hadn't dreamed

that Lee Fu, after such a miraculous escape, would again put us all in

jeopardy. He saw that, on the course we were holding, in a very brief

interval we should leave the protection of the headland. What lay

beyond, it was impossible to discover through the murk. He turned back

fiercely; for a moment he and Lee Fu gazed deep into each other's eyes,

in a grapple that gave no quarter.

"'Yes, Captain!' said Lee Fu sharply 'We have not yet reached the spot

where the _Speedwell_ met her doom. I cannot waste further time in

talk. Return to your station, before I am forced to threaten you

again.... This is merely an interlude'

*IX*

"Since that experience, I've many times examined the charts of the

region where we were" Nichols went on "But they don't begin to show the

whole story. Beyond the middle island, under whose headland we'd found

transitory shelter, stretched a larger island, distant some five miles

from the other; between them lay the most intricate, extraordinary and

terrible nest of reefs ever devised by the mind of the Maker and the

hand of geologic change. No wonder the surveys haven't been completed

in that region; I defy any man, in the calmest and clearest of weather,

to take a craft among those reefs and come out with a whole bottom. Any

man, that is, but Lee Fu Chang, who isn't in the service of the

Admiralty.

"The outlying fringe of reefs that had broken our first approach ended

at the middle island; beyond that, to windward, lay clear water, and the

nest of reefs that I've mentioned received the full force of the wind

and sea. Five miles of water stretched in mad confusion, a solid

whiteness of spouting foam that seemed to generate a hideous

illumination, that reflected a dingy glow into the abandoned sky. All

the cataracts of the world rolled into one couldn't have matched the

awful spectacle. We were still flying through quiet water; but just

beyond the point of the middle island the long wind-swept rollers burst

in tall columns of spray that shut off the farther view like a curtain,

where the reef of rocks stood in an apparently unbroken wall.

"It was directly against the face of this wall that Lee Fu was driving

the sampan. The first lift of the outside swell had begun to catch us.

I held my breath, as moment by moment we cut down the margin of safety.

No use to interfere; perhaps he knew what he was doing, perhaps he had

really gone mad under the terrific strain of the night. As he steered,

he seemed to be watching intently for landmarks; his eyes were

everywhere, but more often, I noticed, on the shore to windward that

rapidly changed its contour as we left it on the port quarter. Was it

possible that, in this abandoned spot, he knew his bearings ... that

there was a way through?...

"Wilbur, at Lee Fu's command, had left us without a word. He now stood

at the rail, supporting himself by main strength, facing the frightful

line of the approaching reef; on his back was written the desperate

struggle that went on in his soul. It bent and twisted, sagging in

sudden irresolution, writhing with stubborn obduracy, straightening and

shaking itself at times as a wave of firmness and confidence passed over

him, only to quail once more before the sight that met his eyes ... He

couldn't believe that Lee Fu would hold that suicidal course. Only

another moment!--he kept crying to himself. Hold on a little longer!

Yet the power of his will had been sapped by the long hours of night and

the terrors of the dawn; and courage, which with him rested only on the

sands of ostentation, had crumbled long ago.

"For my part, I was cruelly afraid. Without clear comprehension, I felt

the tremendous significance of the moment, perceived that the crisis had

come in the battle of the wills. One or the other of them must break

now; but if it didn't happen shortly, there would be no time left in

which to record the triumph. My eyes met Lee Fu's for an instant, as he

swept the retreating shore. He threw some message into the glance--but

I had passed beyond the range of understanding. It seemed to me that he

was excited, even elated, and as calm as ever--as if he'd found those

marks he had been looking for, as if he knew his ground.

"The deafening roar of the breakers filled our ears smothering the voice

of the storm like an outburst of heavy artillery. I turned away,

overcome by a sickening sensation. I couldn't bear to look any longer.

Instead, I found myself watching Lee Fu. He waited tensely, peering

ahead and to windward with lightning glances. A wave caught us, flung

us forward. Suddenly I heard him cry out at my side in exultation, as

he bore down on the tiller. The cry was echoed from forward by a loud

scream that shot like an arrow through the thunder, where Wilbur had

sunk beside the rail. The sampan fell off, still carried high on the

crest of the wave....

"Then, in a moment like the coming of death, we plunged into the reef.

I have no knowledge of what took place; there are no words to tell the

story. Solid water swamped us; the thunder of the surf crushed the

mind.... But we didn't strike, there was a way through, we had crossed

the outer margin of the reef. The sampan emerged from the breakers,

remained afloat, slowly became manageable. The wind caught us again.

Ahead stretched the suggestion of a channel. Ten minutes passed, ten

minutes that seemed like as many ages, while we ran the terrible

gauntlet of the reef, surrounded by towering breakers, lost in the

appalling steady roar of the elements. Suddenly, without warning, we

were flung between a pair of jagged ledges and launched forward bodily

on the surface of an open lagoon.

"A low rocky island lay in the centre of the nest of reefs, a stretch of

open water to leeward of it, all completely hidden from view until that

moment. The open water ran for perhaps a couple of miles; beyond that,

again, the surf began in another unbroken line. It would take us ten

minutes to cross this lagoon ... another interlude.

"'Bring Captain Wilbur' said Lee Fu in my ear.

"I crept forward, where Wilbur lay beside the rail, his arm around a

stanchion. He was moaning to himself like an injured man. I kicked him

roughly; he lifted an ashen face.

"'Come aft--you're wanted' I cried.

"He followed like a whipped cur. Lee Fu, at the tiller, beckoned us to

stand beside him. I pulled Wilbur up by the slack of the coat, and

pinned him against the cross-rail.

"'This is the end' said Lee Fu, speaking in loud jerks, as he steered

across the lagoon 'From this haven there is no way out, except by the

way we came. That way, of course, is closed by the gale. To windward

is shelter, ahead is destruction. I will seek the shelter if you will

speak. If not, I shall go on. By this time, Captain, you know me to be

a man of my word'

"'You yellow devil!...'

"'Waste no time in recriminations. Beyond these reefs, Captain, lies

the wreck of your ship, the _Speedwell_. I have brought you to see the

scene. There my friend met death at your hands. You have had full time

to consider. Will you join him beneath the waves, or will you return to

Hong Kong? A word will save you. Remember, the moments pass very

swiftly'

"'What about yourself and Nichols?' blustered Wilbur.

"'We go too ... or stay ... it makes little difference. This is a

matter that you cannot understand. We do not care'

"At this juncture, I was fated to under-estimate Wilbur after all. I

thought him broken; but a last flicker of obstinate pride remained, to

prop his extraordinary ego. He pulled himself together again, and

whirled on us.

"'I didn't do it!' he snarled. 'It's a damned, scoundrelly lie!'

"'Very well, Captain. Go forward once more, and reserve your final

explanation for the gods'

"The flicker of pride persisted; Wilbur staggered off, holding by the

rail. I waited beside Lee Fu. Thus we stood, like wooden images,

watching the approach of the lagoon's leeward margin. Had Lee Fu spoken

truthfully--was there no way out, in that direction? I couldn't be

certain. All I knew was that the wall of spouting surf was at our bows,

that the jaws of death were opening again.

"Suddenly Wilbur's head snapped back; he flung up his arms in a gesture

of finality, shaking clenched fists into the sky. With a thrill that

tingled to my finger-tips, I realized that he was at the point of

surrender. The torture had reached his vitals. He turned and

floundered aft, holding his hands before his face like a man struck

blind.

"'What is it I must say?' he cried hoarsely, in a voice that by its very

abasement had taken on a certain dignity.

"'You know. The truth, or nothing!'

"His face was shocking in its self-revelation; a strong man breaking

isn't a pleasant object. I saw how awful had been this struggle of the

wills. He came to his final decision as we watched, lost his last

grip....

"'I did it--as you said--you must know all about it. I suppose I sank

her--I had no intention ... You madman! For God's sake, haul up, before

you're in the breakers!'

"'Show me your insurance money' said Lee Fu inexorably.

"Wilbur dug frantically in an inside pocket, produced a packet of bank

notes, and held them out in a hand that trembled violently as the gale

fluttered the crisp leaves.

"'Throw them overboard'

"For the fraction of a second he hesitated; then all resolution went out

in his eyes like a dying flame. He extended his arm rigidly, and loosed

the notes. They were gone down the wind almost before our eyes could

follow them.

"In the same instant, Lee Fu flung down the great tiller. The sampan

came into the wind with a shock that threw us all to the deck. Close

under our lee quarter lay the breakers, less than a couple of hundred

yards away. Lee Fu made frantic signals forward, where the crew were

watching us in a state of utter terror. I felt the centreboard drop; a

patch of sail rose slowly on the mainmast. The boat answered, gathered

headway, drove forward....

"It was just in time. We had run past the low island, and couldn't hope

to regain its shelter in such a gale; but a pile of tumbled rocks lay

off its leeward end, carving out a small sub-zone of protection. This

spot we might be able to fetch, if we managed to escape the clutch of

the breakers. Escape them we did, after a hair-raising five minutes, and

threw out our anchors in the most precarious berth ever afforded, with

our stern brushing the very fringe of the breakers. But the anchors

held; and there we rode until the storm was over.

"Wilbur lay as he had fallen after the sampan's frantic plunge. He made

no movement; and we, on our part, left him where he was"

*X*

"Two nights later, under a clear starry sky, we slipped through Lymoon

Pass on the tail of the land breeze. Before we reached Wanchi, it fell

flat calm. We shipped the long sweeps and began to row; the chattering

crew, who'd never expected to see Hong Kong again, fell to work

willingly. The lights of the city twinkled against the Peak, the

sleeping fleet swung at anchor in the landlocked harbour; all was

silence and tranquillity ... as we see it now. But that night, let me

tell you, the familiar scene was invested with a poignant charm. At

length we reached the bulkhead, from which we'd taken our maniac

departure three days before, and settled in our berth as comfortably as

if we'd just returned from a pleasure trip down the bay.

"No words were said as we came in. I sat against the bulwarks, almost

afraid to move, like a man awakening to consciousness after a long siege

of fever. A little forward of my position, Wilbur rose to his feet. He

hadn't spoken or touched food since that tragic hour under the reefs two

nights before; had spent most of his time below decks, locked in a tiny

stateroom, and had come out only in the last few minutes, as if in

response to the nearing sounds of the land. He stood at the rail, a

figure wrapped in silence and immobility, watching them berth the

sampan. Then, without a glance in our direction, he walked to the

gangway and stepped ashore. On the bulkhead he paused for a moment

irresolute, turning and gazing across the harbour. His form stood out

plainly against a bright light up the street. It had lost those lines

of vigour and alertness; it was the figure of a different and older man.

A broken figure, that could never again be the same....

"A moment later he had lurched away, vanishing suddenly in the darkness

of a side street. Three days afterwards, we heard that he had taken the

boat for Singapore. He hasn't been seen or heard of in this part of the

world since that day.

"When he had gone, that night at the bulkhead Lee Fu approached me; we

crossed the deck of the sampan, and stood for a long while silent at the

harbour rail.

"'Thank you, Captain' said he at last 'As I foresaw, it has been

supremely interesting. For your part, I hope you feel repaid?'

"'It's quite enough to be alive, just now' I confessed without shame 'I

want to see a chart of that locality, Lee Fu. I want to find out what

you did'

"'Oh, that? It was not much. The gods were always with us, as you must

have observed. As for the rest of it, I know that region pretty well'

"'Evidently.... Did the _Speedwell_ fetch up among those same reefs, or

to leeward of them?'

"'The _Speedwell_? Captain, you did not believe my little pleasantry?

We were nowhere near the wreck of the _Speedwell_, at any time--as

Captain Wilbur should have known, had he retained his mental

perspective'

"I smiled feebly. 'Well, I didn't know it. Tell me another thing, Lee

Fu. Were you bluffing, there at the last, or was there really no

passage through the reef?'

"'So far as I am aware, Captain, there was no passage. I believe we

were heading for solid rock when we came into the wind'

"The answer surprised me. 'Would you have piled us up' I asked 'if

Wilbur hadn't given in?'

"'That is a hypothetical question. I knew perfectly well that I should

not be forced to do it. I was only afraid lest, in the final anguish,

Captain Wilbur might lose his seaman's judgment, and so might wait too

long. That, I confess, would have been unfortunate. Otherwise, there

was no especial doubt or danger'

"'I'm glad to hear it!' I exclaimed, with a shudder of recollection 'It

wasn't apparent at the time'

"'No, perhaps not. Time was very swift, just then. I will tell you

now, Captain Nichols, that I myself had begun to grow alarmed. He

waited very long. He was more wilful than I had fully anticipated; a

strong, determined man, and an arch-criminal. But, as it chanced, this

made it the more interesting'

"I didn't care to argue such a subtle point. 'What did you have in mind,

Lee Fu' I asked 'before the typhoon shifted? Did you expect the centre

of it to catch us?'

"The question seemed to amuse him. 'Captain, I had no plan' he

explained in a puzzled tone 'It is dangerous to make plans, or to live

according to a fixed design. There was a task to be begun; the

determination of its direction and result lay with the gods. It was

plain to me that I had been called upon to act; beyond that I neither

saw nor cared to see. Action once begun, I seized events as they came

my way.... How characteristic that you ask me for my plan! Would you

have the temerity to inquire into the divine control of events? Or do

you think that a man really may make a plan?'

"I could believe his statement only because I'd witnessed his incredible

calmness.

"He waved a hand toward the city. 'Come, my friend, let us sleep' said

he 'We have earned our rest--and that is something not always won from

life. But beware of over-confidence, and never plan. It is by

straining to see the future that men exhaust themselves for present

usefulness. It is by daring to make plans that men bring down on their

heads the wrath of heaven. We are the instruments of the gods; through

us, they put their own plans in operation. The only failure in life is

not to hear when the gods command. In this case, however, there could

have been no question; the design was too apparent. From the first, I

was sure and happy. There were constantly too many propitious signs'"

*THE UNCHARTED ISLE*

*THE UNCHARTED ISLE*

*I*

"They say the man is mad" I whispered, nodding across the room

"Pendleton pointed him out to me in Wellington Street this morning"

Nichols gave his twisted smile. "Yes, mad, or inspired, or something

very wonderful. Who is competent to judge? But I haven't seen him up

this way for a long while. Another expedition must be on foot in search

of the Uncharted Isle"

"What's that? You know him, then?"

"Perhaps I am the only man in the East who does know him, in the proper

sense of the word. Every one else listens, laughs, and passes on. But I

believe. Yes, in spite of ridicule and life's disaster, I continue to

believe ... well, not so much in the fact itself, as in the man. By

Jove, he's faithful--and that, you must admit, is marvel enough. And

his madness isn't entirely impossible; it can be explained. Yet it

strikes the world as being funny--and that's his crowning misfortune. A

man in search of a lost and apparently non-existent island can't help

being a little ridiculous, I suppose, until he becomes a thundering

bore. For no one else, of course, is looking for such a thing, or wants

to find one. We keep safely within the charted area.... But let me tell

you the story, and you can form your own opinion. Don't attract his

attention; he won't notice us here in the shadow"

There used to be a certain tea-house in Hong Kong, the name of which was

jealously guarded from touring vandals. It opened on the face of an

enchanted terrace high above the harbour and the town; from the parapet

the eye travelled inland over the low peninsula of Kowloon, as far as

the foothills of China, the fringe of a mighty land veiled in mystery.

Romance came to that terrace, filtering through lacy bamboo leaves,

borne on the night breeze along with the fragrance of flowers and the

music of hidden voices. The place wasn't a temple of the conventional.

It isn't running now; the songs are still, the little cups no longer

tinkle in the half-darkness, and no sweet, startled faces, peep out at

visitors from behind the dragon-screens.

Nichols and I had been sitting there some time that evening, when the

man came in. Of course Nichols knew him; who with any pretentious to a

history wasn't catalogued in his omnivorous files? While I waited, I

listened to a rapid conversation in Chinese somewhere in the back of the

establishment. Dusk had swallowed the white houses and green slopes

below us; the riding lights on the harbour had begun to prick out the

berths of ships; with the coming of night, voices seemed hushed among

the yellow lanterns.

"What is madness? Who will lay down the line between madness and

sanity?" demanded Nichols suddenly "They are like right and wrong, or

good and evil .... much as you want to believe. If we dared for a

moment to face the logic of existence, I think we should find that we're

all a little mad, each in his own way. An entirely sane man would sort

of puff out, like a candle. It's our madness that keeps us going, feeds

the flame. The world's an illusion, anyway, of course; ergo, why aren't

the maddest people the sanest? Certainly, the maddest man of all would

be he who tried to define the states of the human mind.

"For that's beyond our province. They say, for instance, that Devereux

is mad: what they mean is that they can't fathom him. His life,

likewise, hasn't been charted. Well, what's the difficulty? All the

lives and islands haven't been discovered yet. And there are certain

bald facts, written in black-and-white records, that seem to support his

claim...."

A waxy Chinaman changed our tea. Nichols gazed thoughtfully into the

soft darkness beyond the terrace, getting his story under way.

"Devereux is no longer a young man, as you see" he began slowly "I'd

say he was about our own age. He was born and reared, I believe, in our

own New England, though I've never heard the name of his home town. I

presume he had parents there once, brothers and sisters, maybe a

sweetheart. The Devereuxs, you know, are a fine family, with strains of

originality cropping out here and there, which might once in a while

have amounted to genius in a free atmosphere. They're a high-strung

breed. I'd be willing to affirm that, even before the episode of the

island, this particular Devereux was a serious and romantic soul. Look

at his face, hanging in the glow of that lantern. Temperament,

sensibility, melancholy.... But what he was, and what he might have

been, are both sunk in the tremendous distances of a lifetime, obscured

by the apparition of an island, the wraith of a tragic destiny.

"He went to sea, in the wake of his generation. At the age of

twenty-one, he had worked up from the forecastle to a room on the port

side of the forward cabin; in due time he became first mate of the ship

_Evening Star_. I forget who was captain of her, or what was the name

of the second mate who managed to reach Callao in the whaleboat. Those

who survived the disaster have vanished along with those who never

returned, and Devereux alone has perpetuated the event in nautical

history because of a madness that descended on him out of the sky.

"They sailed from New York for San Francisco in a year that is likewise

immaterial, and had a long and tedious passage round the Horn. It was

one of those unlucky and exasperating voyages, you know--calms, and even

trade winds, and unseasonable storms; so that when they finally got

headed north in the Pacific, they were a disheartened ship's company.

The southeast trades in the Pacific failed them completely; whatever

wind they found, from 20 south up to the line, came from the east and

north; and with the best course they could make, the ship was crowded

over far to the westward of the regular track. Then, as they approached

the line, the northeast breeze settled down in earnest, and nothing for

it but to hold her on a N.N.W. course, as close to the wind as possible

on the starboard tack. They managed to weather the fringe of the South

Sea Islands by a few hundred miles, and drifted across the line

somewhere in the neighbourhood of 135 deg. west longitude. Provisions

and water were holding out well, though one hundred and seventy-five

days had passed since they'd lost sight of Sandy Hook.

"One evening in the early dog-watch, they noticed a few land birds

flying about the ship. Devereux told me they were quite excited over the

incident for an hour or two, with the quick sympathy of sailors for an

unusual manifestation of life-forces. The nearest land at that time was

the Marquesas, five hundred miles away to the southward. Some of the

men tried to entice the birds to alight on deck or in the rigging, but

they didn't seem at all weary, and scorned the blandishments of food.

"'Wonderful creatures--birds' said the captain, as they were discussing

the occurrence on the quarter-deck 'Five hundred miles isn't a drop in

the bucket to them. All the bob-o'-links at home go to Brazil and back

every winter'

"'They've probably run over from the Marquesas since supper' chimed in

the second mate 'Half an hour from now they'll be back there, perching

on some tree above an island beauty. God, I'd like to be a bird!'

"But Devereux demurred to their conclusion--he knew something of the

habits of birds. 'That's all right in the migrating season, but these

birds don't migrate' said he 'You can see that they aren't bound

anywhere in particular. And land birds don't fly five hundred miles to

sea for the fun of going back again. They do get tuckered, too. I

think it's mighty strange'

"He had the first watch. It was one of those typical Pacific nights--a

velvet sky, a smooth sea, the air somehow expressing the character of an

ocean illimitable and magnificent, an ocean that spreads like the floor

of the universe. After the captain had gone below for the night,

Devereux cast his imagination adrift to follow those birds, to see the

land again. What could their visit have meant? Was there any land

nearer than the Marquesas--perhaps an uninhabited island? He promised

himself a careful survey of the chart when he went below at midnight....

He'd been thinking in this desultory fashion some time, lost in the

dreams of night watches, when a sharp cry from forward struck him like a

knife flying through the darkness.

"You know those single cries on shipboard, in the dead of night--cries

of warning, of apprehension, of impending danger. The heart stops for a

moment at the sound. Then a thousand possibilities crowd into the mind

at once, a thousand processes of thought leap into action. There can be

no indecision; moments are priceless. And there must be no mistake.

"The cry met him a second time as he passed the mizzen rigging, running

forward. '_Breakers ahead!_' Instinctively, he shouted the order over

his shoulder as he ran.

"'Put the helm down! _Hard down! Hard down!_'

"But it was too late to save her. He told me that he paused at the

break of the poop, listening, and in a sudden hush that went over the

ship, heard distinctly a low sucking sound under the bows--the horrible

gasping of water over rocks awash. He clung to the rail, cowed by the

only fear a sailor knows. At that moment, she struck heavily, and stood

still. She had been making about five knots, enough to give her plenty

of momentum. The shock was terrific: some of the top-hamper crashed to

the deck, and the voices of men suddenly broke out in screams of terror.

The ship rose a little by the head, seemed to draw back, and surged

forward again with a dull, rending, sickening plunge.

"But what's the need to rehearse the details of that oldest tragedy of

the sea? There was time enough for them to get out the boats, time

enough, even, to fully provision them--and that's more than some have

been allowed. But the ship was dead and done for. Her whole bow must

have been stove in under water. Five minutes after they pushed clear of

her, she slumped like a rock, and they lost her in the darkness. A

whirlpool of foam showed for a while on the surface of the black water.

Then that, too, faded; and the wide, open Pacific received them in their

three boats as frail as cockle-shells, and the velvet night covered it

all.

"The captain commanded the longboat, the second mate and Devereux had a

whaleboat apiece. Devereux's was the smallest; his crew consisted of

six men besides himself. The boats drew together on the quiet water for

a consultation. A deep stillness invested the place, the stillness of a

lofty cavern, of an empty world; and somewhere off in the gloom that

awful sucking sound went on, now loud, now dying out to a faint echo,

like a demon chuckling over human disaster.

"All night they played hide-and-seek with that demon in the darkness.

The breeze fell off, and after a while it grew flat calm. At times the

voice of the reef was hoarse and low and languid; at times it purred and

bubbled energetically; at times it would be silent so long that they'd

lean over the gunwale to listen, thinking they had lost it--when

unexpectedly it would snarl out again, close at hand. In the middle of

the night they did seem to be really losing the sound, and were afraid

they'd drifted from the vicinity; they bent to the oars rather

aimlessly, for no one could judge the exact direction, and before they

knew it were almost running afoul of the hideous thing. Some of the men

swore that the sound moved on the water; this seemed plausible, for it

was to be supposed that the reef extended a considerable distance, yet

the notion nevertheless gave rise to a vague superstitious fear. Either

it moved, or they were surrounded by a nest of reefs--one was about as

bad as the other. Devereux said it was a night to drive a nervous man

crazy, a night that they began to think would never end.

"When dawn came at last, they looked about them and saw nothing at

all--nothing but an unbroken horizon, a boundless ocean, a few spars

floating idly in the midst of a great calm, and a little dark dot like a

pimple on the face of the waters, just in front of the rising sun.

"They rowed toward this pimple on the surface. It opened and closed with

the sucking motion of a loose mouth, and between the monstrous

flickering lips of water a point of rock protruded, black and swollen

like the tongue of a drowned man. It seemed impossible that this

solitary rock had made all the commotion of the night, had invested them

as if with an army of breakers; yet there was absolutely nothing else in

sight--the rest had been imagination.

"They rowed across the south face of the rock, where the ship had

struck, and found the water there deep past all knowing. The rock

wasn't coral, and no coral formation surrounded it. In the clear blue

water beneath them huge banners of kelp waved and winnowed like lifeless

hands. Not a vestige of the _Evening Star_ remained; she had disappeared

in the unfathomable gulfs of the Pacific. It was a mere crag that had

caught her, a needle-point piercing the floor of an otherwise

unobstructed ocean, the topmost spire of some mighty mountain sunk in

the bowels of the world. It may never before have been seen by mortal

man; it certainly wasn't indicated on the best charts of that day. She

would have had to seek a thousand years to touch it. A ship's length

either side would have cleared her....

"They waited beside the rock till noon, to get an observation. Then

they rowed away to the northward, bound for the Sandwich Islands. The

dark spot on the water dwindled and disappeared in their wake. Devereux

told me that, quite unaccountably, he felt his heart sinking as they

lost sight of it; after all, it was their only link with a remote and

perhaps unattainable world.

"The first night after the disaster, a heavy squall separated the boats.

They couldn't find each other, and never came together again. The

second mate reached Callao after a terrible journey, the first to report

the loss of the _Evening Star_. He had been nearly swamped in that

first squall. For two days he had hunted frantically for the other

boats. Then, not being a good navigator, and having a very imperfect

chart of the Pacific Islands, he had changed his course and steered due

east, knowing that he would strike the American continent if he could

keep on going. The fact of his arrival in Callao, its date, and his

reported date of the disaster, are beyond dispute; for my own

satisfaction, I have looked these matters up in the official records.

"The captain, in the longboat, was never heard of again. Him and his

crew the Pacific took for toll.

"Devereux was picked up at sea, alive, well, and alone in the _Evening

Star's_ small whaleboat, _exactly one year and three months after the

ship went down_"

"Easy, Nichols!" I remonstrated "Say that again, please. You can't

expect me to swallow it whole at the first try"

"Those are the facts, I tell you" said Nichols calmly "I have also

verified this latter statement, through correspondence with the captain

who picked him up. It really happened--and the dates were as I said.

He was picked up just north of the equator in the Pacific Ocean by the

ship _Vanguard_, and brought in to San Francisco. I was informed by the

captain of the _Vanguard_ that he had been driven out of his course by

meeting the northeast trade winds too far south, and had sighted

Devereux adrift one morning in about 135 deg. west and 2 deg. north.

The man was nearly dead from thirst, and was quite mad when they took

him aboard; raved about an island nearby, said he'd been blown away from

it, and begged them to cruise in search of it before they left the

ground. There was no island in that vicinity, of course, nearer than

the Marquesas. 'I was sorry for the poor fellow' the captain of the

_Vanguard_ wrote me 'but we couldn't waste time in indulging his fancy.

He quieted down after a day or two, and seemed to settle into a sort of

dull melancholy'

"This castaway, giving his name as Devereux, claimed to have been mate

of the _Evening Star_, lost in that same quarter of the Pacific the year

before. The people on the _Vanguard_ had heard nothing of this

disaster; in fact, the first report of it, brought in by the second

mate, had just reached San Francisco from Callao when they got in. To

corroborate the story, however, the whaleboat in which Devereux had been

picked up had presented a battered and weather-beaten appearance, her

paint peeling off and her bottom badly scarred, as if she'd been used a

good while on the beach; and on her stern they had been able to decipher

the letters--ENI-G --AR. Devereux claimed that his ship had touched a

needle of rock and had sunk immediately; but no danger of that nature

was laid down on the _Vanguard's_ chart. A year later, as a result of

these conflicting and sensational tales, the United States Government

sent a gunboat to look for the rock, perhaps with secret instructions to

keep a weather eye open for Devereux's island; but nothing was to be

found. Devereux couldn't remember the _Evening Star's_ exact latitude

and longitude on the day before the disaster; his records and

instruments had vanished along with his crew in the heart of a deep

mystery. And the second mate, who alone came in in regular order, was a

poor navigator, you'll remember, and may easily have made an error about

the place of his departure. At any rate, nothing was to be found. On

the charts of the Hydrographic Office to-day you'll see, in that

position, a dotted circle, marked Evening Star Rock, with an

interrogation point after the name.

"Devereux's story was a nine days' wonder in San Francisco, confirmed in

substance as it was by the recent authentic report from Callao. The

newspapers made good copy of it. Many believed him outright; a man

doesn't float about in the Pacific for over a year and emerge from the

experience in robust health, without there being some simple and

practical explanation. Yet sensational publicity quickly prejudiced the

case, as it invariably does. After the first flush of pleasurable

excitement, public interest began to put him down either as a hoax or a

madman, and then promptly forgot him. One of the papers tried to start

a subscription for a schooner, so that he might search for his island,

but it met with little response. The return wave of prosaic life rolled

over him, left him submerged and helpless. For a while he went about

seeking sympathy and assistance, but his melancholy tale soon came to be

a nuisance, doors were shut in his face, and men avoided him.

"At length he had the good sense to go away. He wandered to the East,

moved about from place to place. The story followed him, distorted in

the passage of time. And so we meet him here, a man with a strange

hallucination--an interesting case, and romantic, but unquestionably

mad"

*II*

Nichols leaned toward me, his eyes kindling. "Let me take you back to

the morning after the squall that separated the boats" said he "The sun

rose in a clear sky; the quick tropical storm had entirely disappeared.

Devereux looked about him, and saw no sign of the others. One hardly

realizes, until one has experienced the fact, how easy it is for boats

to become separated in the night, especially under severe conditions of

weather, or how rapidly a dozen miles may spring up between them. And a

dozen might as well be as many hundreds, for all chances of their coming

together again. The wind had died to a baffling breeze that seemed to

be trying to blow from all directions at once. Devereux had no

chronometer--nothing but a pocket watch, a sextant, a compass, and an

old general chart of the Pacific. After an hour's study of his

situation, he came to a quick decision. The chart and the pocket watch

couldn't be trusted to get him to the Sandwich Islands; like the second

mate, somewhere within a radius of twenty-five miles from him at that

moment, he changed the boat's course and steered due east in search of a

continent.

"While they were getting up the sail to catch a wandering air that

seemed to have settled in the west, a man forward shouted in tones of

horror that the water cask was empty. A frantic investigation verified

the fact. An oar carelessly thrown down had loosened the plug in the

head of the cask, and their precious supply of water was washing around

in the bottom of the boat. They tasted it, but found it too salt to

drink; the boat, fresh from the top of the forward house, was leaking

quite a little.

"Then began the nightmare of heat and thirst. The sun that day was

pitiless. They had no luck with the wind, which soon fell flat calm;

the exertion of rowing added to the misery. Not a drop of rain fell.

By noon, the horror of the first day's thirst had begun to grip them; by

nightfall it had them cowed and broken, whining for water. It's that

first day which is always the worst, you know--until the end. Devereux

still hoped that he might pick up one of the other boats, and all hands

kept a sharp lookout; but the hope died as the hours wore on. The sheer

loneliness of the vast Pacific under a brilliant sun oppressed them like

a foretaste of death, like a vista of eternity. They made little

progress that day.

"A night passed, between sleeping and waking; dawn once more showed them

a deserted sea. After a couple of hours' rowing, they threw down the

oars in despair. What was the use of making little dabs with a wooden

blade at an ocean beyond span or circumference? Devereux says that he,

too, was completely disheartened. They rested all that forenoon,

waiting for a breeze. By this time the thirst had eaten into their

vitals. Spots were dancing before their eyes, and frequently one of the

men would insist that he saw a boat on the horizon; but after a while

they learned to accept the cruelty of this delusion.

"Some time a little after noon, Devereux was in the stern sheets

steering; he had persuaded the men to take up the oars again. He was

gazing off on the port quarter, in an aimless state of misery, when all

at once he thought his mind must be breaking with the thirst. A vision

swam before him--a vision of a peaceful island, fringed with palm trees,

crowned by a low green hill, all shimmering with heat and inverted in

the sky. He says he gazed at it a long time without daring to speak; he

was afraid the others wouldn't be able to see it, afraid it wasn't real.

Finally he could stand the suspense no longer.

"'Look!' he cried, pointing 'Is anything there?'