Not until the tenth day out from Honolulu was Mr. Stuyvesant so far
recovered as to warrant the surgeons in permitting his being lifted from
the hot and narrow berth to a steamer-chair on the starboard side. Even
then it was with the caution to everybody that he must not be disturbed.
The heat below and in many of the staterooms was overpowering, and
officers and soldiers in numbers slept upon the deck, and not a few of
the Red Cross nurses spent night after night in the bamboo and wicker
reclining-chairs under the canvas awnings.
Except for the tropic temperature, the weather had been fine and the
voyage smooth and uneventful. The Sacramento rolled easily, lazily
along. The men had morning shower-baths and, a few at a time, salt-water
plunges in big canvas tanks set fore and aft on the main deck. On the
port or southern side of the promenade deck the officers sported their
pajamas both day and night, and were expected to appear in khaki or
serge, and consequent discomfort, only at table, on drill or duty, and
when visiting the starboard side, which, abaft the captain's room, was
by common consent given up to the women.
They were all on hand the morning that the invalid officer was carefully
aided from his stateroom to a broad reclining-chair, which was then
borne to a shaded nook beneath the stairway leading to the bridge and
there securely lashed. The doctor and Mr. Ray remained some minutes with
him, and the steward came with a cooling drink. Mrs. Wells, doctor by
courtesy and diploma, arose and asked the surgeon if there were really
nothing the ladies could do--"Mr. Stuyvesant looks so very pale and
weak,"--and the sisterhood strained their ears for the reply, which, as
the surgeon regarded the lady's remark as reflecting upon the results of
his treatment, might well be expected to be somewhat tart.
"Nothing to-day, Mrs.--er--Dr. Wells," said the army man, half vexed,
also, at being detained on way to hospital. "The fever has gone and he
will soon recuperate now, provided he can rest and sleep. It is much
cooler on deck and--if it's only quiet----"
"Oh, he sha'n't be bothered, if that's what you mean," interposed Dr.
Wells with proper spirit. "I'm sure nobody desires to intrude in the
least. I asked for my associates from a sense of duty. Most of them are
capable of fanning or even reading aloud to a patient without danger of
over-exciting him."
"Unquestionably, madam," responded the surgeon affably, "and when such
ministrations are needed I'll let you know. Good-morning." And, lifting
his stiff helmet, the doctor darted down the companion-way.
"Brute!" said the lady doctor. "No wonder that poor boy doesn't get
well. Miss Ray, I marvel that your brother can stand him."
Miss Ray glanced quietly up from her book and smiled. "We have known Dr.
Sturgis many years," she said. "He is brusque, yet very much thought of
in the army."
But at this stage of the colloquy there came interruption most
merciful--for the surgeon. The deep whistle of the steamer sounded three
quick blasts. There was instant rush and scurry on the lower deck. The
cavalry trumpets fore and aft rang out the assembly.
It was the signal for boat-drill, and while the men of certain companies
sprang to ranks and stood in silence at attention awaiting orders, other
detachments rushed to their stations at the life-rafts, and others still
swarmed up the stairways or clambered over the rails, and in less than a
minute every man was at his post. Quickly the staff officers made the
rounds, received the reports of the detachment commanders and the boat
crews, and returning, with soldierly salute, gave the results to the
commanding officer, who had taken position with the captain on the
bridge.
For five or ten minutes the upper deck was dotted by squads of
blue-shirted soldiers, grouped in disciplined silence about the boats.
Then the recall was sounded, and slowly and quietly the commands
dispersed and went below.
It so happened that in returning to the forecastle about a dozen
troopers passed close to where Stuyvesant lay, a languid spectator, and
at sight of his pale, thin face two of them stopped, raised their hands
in salute, looked first eager and pleased, and then embarrassed. Their
faces were familiar, and suddenly Stuyvesant remembered. Beckoning them
to come nearer, he feebly spoke:
"You were in the car-fire. I thought I knew your faces."
"Yes, sir," was the instant reply of the first. "We're sorry to see the
lieutenant so badly hurt--and by that blackguard Murray too, they say.
If the boys ever get hold of him, sir, he'll never have time for his
prayers."
"No, nor another chance to bite," grinned the second, whom Stuyvesant
now recognized as the lance corporal of artillery. "He's left his mark
on both of us, sir," and, so saying, the soldier held out his hand.
In the soft and fleshy part of the palm at the base of the thumb were
the scars of several wounds. It did not need an expert eye to tell that
they were human-tooth marks. There were the even traces of the middle
incisors, the deep gash made by the fang-like dog tooth, and between the
mark of the right upper canine and those of three incisors a smooth,
unscarred space. There, then, must have been a vacancy in the upper jaw,
a tooth broken off or gone entirely, and Stuyvesant remembered that as
Murray spoke the eye-tooth was the more prominent because of the ugly
gap beside it.
"He had changed the cut of his jib considerably," faintly whispered
Stuyvesant, after he had extended a kind but nerveless hand to each,
"but that mark would betray him anywhere under any disguise. Was Foster
ever found?"
"No, sir. They sent me back to Sacramento, but nobody could remember
having seen anybody like him. I'm afraid he was drowned there at
Carquinez. My battery went over with the third expedition while I was up
there. That's how I happen to be with the cavalry on this trip." Then up
went both hands to the caps again and both soldiers sprang to attention.
Stuyvesant, looking languidly around, saw that Mr. Ray had returned,
saw, moreover, that his sister was leaning on his arm, her eyes fixed on
the speaker's weather-beaten face. Again it all flashed upon him--the
story of Foster's infatuation for this lovely girl, his enlistment, and
then his strange and unaccountable disappearance.
"I'm sorry, men," interposed Mr. Ray in pleasant tone, "but the surgeon
has ordered us not to talk with Lieutenant Stuyvesant, and I shall have
to repeat his order to you. You were in the car that was burned, I
suppose?"
"Yes, sir. Beg pardon--we didn't know about the doctor's orders. We're
mighty glad to see the lieutenant again. Come 'long, Mellen."
"Wait," whispered Stuyvesant. "Come and see me again. I want to talk
with you, and--thank you for stopping to-day."
The soldiers departed happy, and Stuyvesant turned wistfully to greet
Miss Ray. She was already beyond reach of his voice, leaning on Sandy's
arm and gazing steadfastly into his face. He saw Mrs. Dr. Wells coming
swiftly towards him with inquiry in her eyes, and impulsively,
peevishly, and in disappointment he turned again his face to the wall,
as it were. At least that was not the Red Cross nurse he longed for,
good and sympathetic and wise in her way as she undoubtedly was.
He wished now with all his heart that they had placed his chair so that
he could look back along the promenade deck instead of forward over the
forecastle at the sparkling sea. He felt that, pacing up and down
together, the brother and sister must come within ten feet of his chair
before they turned back, and he longed to look at her, yet could not.
Sturgis had said he would return in a few minutes, and he hadn't come.
Stuyvesant felt aggrieved. It would be high noon before many minutes.
Already the ship officers were on the bridge ready to "take the sun,"
and mess-call for the men was sounding on the lower decks. He would give
a fortune, thought he, to feel once more that cool, soft, slender little
hand on his forehead. There were other hands, some that were certainly
whiter than Miss Ray's, and probably quite as soft and cool, hands that
before the report of his slur upon the Red Cross would gladly have
ministered to him, but he shrank from thought of any touch but one. He
would have given another fortune, if he had it, could Marion Ray but
come and sit by him and talk in her cordial, pleasant tones. There were
better talkers, wittier, brighter women within hail--women who kept
their hearers laughing much of the time, which Miss Ray did not, yet he
shrank from the possibility of one of their number accosting him.
Twice he was conscious that Dr. Wells and Miss Porter had tip-toed close
and were peering interestedly at him, but he shut his eyes and would not
see or hear. He did not "want to be bothered," it was only too evident,
and as the ship's bell chimed the hour of noon and the watch changed,
his would-be visitors slipped silently away and he was alone.
When the doctor came cautiously towards him a few minutes later,
Stuyvesant was to all appearances sleeping, and the "medico" rejoiced in
the success of his scheme. When, not five minutes after the doctor
peeped at him, the voice of the captain was heard booming from the
bridge just over the patient's pillowed head, it developed that the
patient was wide awake. Perhaps what the captain said would account for
this.
A dozen times on the voyage that mariner had singled out Miss Ray for
some piece of attention. Now, despite the fact that almost the entire
Red Cross party were seated or strolling or reclining there under the
canvas awning and he must have known it, although they were hidden from
his view, he again made that young lady the object of his homage. She
was at the moment leaning over the rail, with Sandy by her side, gazing
at the dark blue, beautiful waters that, flashing and foam-crested, went
sweeping beneath her. The monarch of the ship, standing at the outer end
of the bridge, had caught sight of her and gave tongue at once. A good
seaman was the captain and a stalwart man, but he knew nothing of tact
or discretion.
"Oh, Miss Ray," he bawled, "come up on the bridge and I'll show you the
chart. Bring the lieutenant."
For an instant she hesitated, reluctant. Not even the staff of the
commanding officer had set foot on that sacred perch since the voyage
began, only when especially bidden or at boat or fire drill did that
magnate himself presume to ascend those stairs. As for her sister
nurses, though they had explored the lower regions and were well
acquainted with the interior arrangement of the Sacramento, and were
consumed with curiosity and desire to see what was aloft on the
hurricane-deck, the stern prohibition still staring at them in bold,
brazen letters, "Passengers are Forbidden upon the Bridge," had served
to restrain the impulse to climb.
And now here was Captain Butt singling out Miss Ray again and ignoring
the rest of them. If she could have found any reasonable excuse for
refusing Maidie Ray would have declined. But Sandy's eyes said "Come."
Butt renewed his invitation. She turned and looked appealingly at Mrs.
Wells, as though to say "What shall I do?" but that matron was
apparently engrossed in a volume of Stevenson, and would not be drawn
into the matter, and finally Marion caught Miss Porter's eye. There, at
least, was a gleam of encouragement and sympathy. Impulsive and
capricious as that young woman could be on occasions, the girl had
learned to appreciate the genuine qualities of her room-mate, and of
late had been taking sides for Marion against the jealousies of her
fellows.
"Why don't you go?" she murmured, with a nod of her head towards the
stairs, and with slightly heightened color, Miss Ray smiled acceptance
at the captain, and, following Sandy's lead through the labyrinth of
steamer-chairs about them, tripped briskly away over the open deck, and
there, at the very foot of the steep, ladder-like ascent, became aware
of Mr. Stuyvesant leaning on an elbow and gazing at her with all his big
blue eyes.
She had to stop and go around under the stairs and take his thin,
outstretched hand. She had to stop a moment to speak to him, though what
he said, or she said, neither knew a moment after. All she was conscious
of as she turned away was that now at least every eye in all the
sisterhood was on her, and, redder than ever, she fairly flew up the
steep steps, and was welcomed by the chivalric Butt upon the bridge.
That afternoon several of the Band were what Miss Porter was constrained
to call "nastily snippy" in their manner to her, and, feeling wronged
and misjudged, it was not to be wondered at that her father's daughter
should resent it. And yet so far from exulting in having thus been
distinguished and recognized above her fellows, Miss Ray had felt deeply
embarrassed, and almost the first words she said after receiving the
bluff seaman's effusive greeting were in plea for her associates.
"Oh, Captain Butt, it's most kind of you to ask me up here--and my
brother, too, will be so interested in the chart-room, but, can't
you--won't you ask Dr. Wells and at least some of the ladies? You know
they all would be glad to come, and----"
"That's all right, Miss Ray," bawled old Butt, breaking in on her
hurried words. "I'll ask 'em up here some other time. You see we're
rolling a bit to-day, and like as not some of 'em would pitch over
things, and--and--well, there ain't room for more'n three at a time
anyhow."
"Then you ought to have asked Dr. Wells first and some of the
seniors."--She hesitated about saying elders.--No one of the Band would
have welcomed an invitation tendered on account of her advanced years.
"It'll be just as bad if I go and ask her now," said Butt testily. "The
others will take offence, and life's too short for a shipmaster to be
explaining to a lot of women why they can't all come at once on the
bridge. I'll have 'em up to-morrow--any three you say."
But when the morrow came he didn't "have 'em up." Maidie had pleaded
loyally for her associates, but was too proud or sensitive to so inform
them. The captain had said he would do that, and meanwhile she tried not
to feel exasperated at the injured airs assumed by several of the Band
and the cutting remarks of one or two of their number.
That afternoon, however, the skies became overcast and the wind rose.
That night the sea dashed high towards the rail and the Sacramento
wallowed deep in the surges. Next morning the wind had freshened to a
gale. All air-ports were closed. The spray swept the promenade deck along
the starboard side and the Red Cross and two-thirds of the martial
passenger-list forgot all minor ills and annoyances in the miseries of
_mal de mer_. Three days and nights were most of the women folk cooped
in their cabins, but Miss Ray was an old sailor and had twice seen
far heavier weather on the Atlantic. Sheltered from the rain by the
bridge-deck and from the spray and gale by heavy canvas lashed
athwartship in front of the captain's room, and securely strapped in her
reclining-chair, this young lady fairly rejoiced in the magnificent
battle with the elements and gloried in the bursting seas. Sandy, too,
albeit a trifle upset, was able to be on deck, and one of the "subs" from
the port-side hearing of it, donned his outer garments and cavalry boots
and joined forces with them, and Stuyvesant, hearing their merry voices,
declared that he could not breathe in his stuffy cabin and demanded to be
dressed and borne out on deck too. At first the surgeon said no,
whereupon his patient began to get worse.
So on the second day the doctor yielded, and all that day and the third
of the storm, by which time the starboard deck was slowly becoming
peopled with a few spectral and barely animate feminine shapes,
Stuyvesant reclined within arm's length of the dark-eyed girl who had so
entranced him, studying her beauty, drinking in her words, and gaining
such health and strength in the life-giving air and such bliss from the
association that Sturgis contemplated with new complacency the happy
result of his treatment, for when the gale subsided, and on the fourth
day they ran once more into smooth and lazy waters, it was Stuyvesant's
consuming desire to take up his bed and walk, except when Miss Ray was
there to talk or read to him.
And this was the state of affairs when the Sacramento hove in sight of
the bold headlands, green and beautiful, that front the sea at the
northeast corner of mountainous Luzon. Once within soundings and close
to a treacherous shore, with only Spanish authority to rely on as to
rocks, reefs, and shoals, no wonder old Butt could have no women on the
bridge, this, too, at the very time they most wished to be there, since
everything worth seeing lay on the port or southern side, and that given
up to those horrid officers and their pajamas.
Not until his anchor dropped in Manila Bay did the master of the
Sacramento think to redeem his promise to bid the ladies of the Red
Cross to the sacred bridge, and incidentally to tell them how Miss Ray
had urged it in their behalf while they were out on blue waters, but now
it was too late.