Rolfe awkwardly awaited the torrent of questions that obviously trembled
on the girl's lips. He saw behind her the dwarf of the gate, shrugging
his deformed shoulders in disgust at the intrusion of a feminine factor
at such a time. Miss Sheldon came directly towards him and spoke
hurriedly, agitatedly.
"Mr. Rolfe, some wickedness is going on. What is it? Why have you come
here to shatter our little people's peace?"
"Me? I ain't shattered anybody's peace, Miss," returned Rolfe, as
puzzled as she. "Wickedness--yes, ma'am, I know that. But it ain't
wickedness of mine, nor my skipper's. D' ye think we'd be wicked enough
to sink our own ship?"
"Sink--your ship? Why--how--"
"Yes, Miss, our ship. And what's more, if you don't mind, I can't stop
chawing the rag here; Captain Barry and Mr. Little are in danger o'
their lives, by all accounts."
"Then it was true!" cried Natalie, her eyes gleaming with a hope that
had almost gone from her. "They have been caught, as Mr. Leyden told me
they would. Why did you begin your hateful work here?"
"What did Leyden tell ye, mum?" old Bill Blunt put in, with gruff
gentleness. He saw Rolfe's utter bewilderment.
"Oh, you are a new man," she cried. "You cannot know that the men you
are with are engaged in planting the curse of opium in this beautiful
land, where our Mission has almost reaped the fruits of years of labor."
"Opium be damned--beg your pardon, lady," exploded and apologized Rolfe,
near bursting with rage. "If opium's being run in here, I can guess
who's doing it. Not to mention names, ma'am, his tally begins with
Leyden. None came in the _Barang_, I'll swear."
"Me too, Miss," rejoined Blunt heartily. "New man I may be, but I ain't
new among men, an' it ain't men like Cap'n Barry as runs p'isen to poor
niggers."
All the while they were arguing the matter, Rolfe's men were busy
preparing for their march to Barry's assistance. Food and water and
emergency medical supplies had to be rummaged for and packed; a
wood-wise guide had to be obtained through the agency of the gateman.
Miss Sheldon hovered nervously about them, struggling hard with some
emotion within her, gazing searchingly from face to face as if to find
there an answer to the problem that troubled her.
The _Barang's_ men certainly looked anything but the rascals she had
been told they were; she had never seen sailors more utterly peaceable
in their demeanor. When the preparations were nearly complete, and but a
few minutes could remain before the party set out, she forced a decision
herself.
"Mr. Rolfe, I am afraid," she said in low, tremulous tones.
"Nothing to be afraid of in us, ma'am," growled the mate, hauling a
second cartridge belt tight about his waist.
"No, not of you, but of everything. Wait, please," she begged, seeing
signs of impatience in the sailor's face. "Let me tell you; then advise
me, please. This horrible traffic is being carried on, without any
doubt. It has broken Mr. Gordon and has drawn nearly all our native men
from their lawful work and the Church. All the Mission men now are away
in the jungle trying to bring back the foolish boys to the village and
the Mission. I am alone here, except for Mrs. Goring. I am nervous now."
"Why are you staying, then?" demanded Rolfe, staring rudely into her
dusky eyes.
"Because I have--I--I have resigned from the Mission, Mr. Rolfe. I am
waiting for Mr. Leyden's return. He has offered me a passage to Java and
suggested that I go on board to wait until the _Padang_ sails. But I
can't rest easily there. There is something in the crew that makes me
shudder. I never met men of their kind before."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't offer you accommodations on our ship. She's
on the bottom of the river just now--put there by Mr. Leyden's orders,
no doubt. I haven't got any men to spare, either, nor no time, Miss.
Tell me quick what you want me to do."
Jerry Rolfe slung a water canteen over his shoulder, handed pistol
cartridges to Bill Blunt from his own pocket store, and looked around
impatiently for the guide.
"I don't know what to do," cried the girl. She was not hysterical in the
least; she seemed quite capable of revealing a wide streak of calm,
helpful courage, if only her doubts might be set at rest. She went on
hurriedly: "I cannot move hand or foot except between the Mission and
here. Everywhere I go I hear, but cannot see, whispering men who follow
me like my shadow. Why, Mr. Rolfe, I feel like a prisoner! Won't you let
me come with you?"
"That's impossible," grunted the mate and met Bill Blunt's horrified
eye. "Why, lady, d' ye know where we're going and what for?"
"I understand you are going to try to find your captain, of course. But
I won't be a burden to you. I'll do just what you tell me, and I may be
able to help, if--if--well, you may have wounds or anything, you know.
Won't you let me come?--Oh, do take me, Mr. Rolfe. I cannot stay here
alone!"
The mate bawled loudly for the tardy guide, as much to conceal his
uneasiness as to bring the man, for the gateman was even then chattering
voluble instructions to a lithe, breech-clouted native who had just come
in. There was nothing he desired less at that moment than to have a
woman in the party; yet his stout heart reproached him for designing to
leave the girl to her fears. His uncertainty was dispelled for him by
the appearance of Mrs. Goring, as fresh and dainty as she had appeared
that first day on the dock. She advanced with a smile of greeting, and
Miss Sheldon met her eye with a guilty blush.
"I am trying to persuade Mr. Rolfe to take me away with his party," the
girl said. "You know how uneasy I have been here, Mrs. Goring, since you
are so much away."
"Yes, I know, my dear," the woman replied, and her mature face glowed
tenderly. "And unfortunately I cannot avoid being away just now, as you
know." She turned her smile upon Rolfe and Bill Blunt, soothing their
awkwardness with consummate tact. "Take her, gentlemen, won't you?" she
pleaded. "I know it will be all right."
"All right?" echoed Blunt. "Say, marm, d' ye know what we take these
playthings fer?" he asked, handling his pistol and rifle.
"Yes, I know. Still it will be all right. Miss Sheldon will be in no
danger with you that she would avoid here. Besides, Mr. Rolfe, I give
you my word that Mr. Vandersee would approve of it."
"Vandersee?" Rolfe glared from Mrs. Goring to Miss Sheldon.
Slow-thinking as he usually was, he needed no mental jolt now to see
something wonderful and strange in the association of Vandersee with
both of these women, whose apparent interests were so diverse. He had
thought of Vandersee as perhaps likely to be interested in Mrs. Goring's
activities, because he had been on the _Barang's_ quarterdeck when the
big Hollander introduced her to the skipper; but if one thing was more
certain than another, it was that Vandersee had nothing whatever in
common with Leyden, save enmity, and here was a girl avowedly friendly
to Leyden accepting the advice of Vandersee's friend. He squinted at
Miss Sheldon, puzzled, and stammered:
"Would you take Vandersee's advice, Miss? Ain't he dead set against your
friend Leyden?"
"Oh, I don't know what to think about Mr. Vandersee," replied the girl,
in distress again. "I know that he is with and for you, which suggests
his antagonism to Mr. Leyden, who I am sure doesn't know him. But I
know, too, that he is a gentleman, and I am satisfied to trust him on
Mrs. Goring's word. Say I can go with you, please." Her sweet face
clouded, and tears started into her eyes. Gruff old Bill Blunt clapped a
huge hand on her shoulder and growled:
"Dry yer eyes, my pretty, dry 'em, do. We ain't goin' to make gal's eyes
waterfalls, no we ain't--" and he rumbled in an aside to Rolfe, intended
for his ears only, but filling the hut with sound--"Let th' purty gal
come, sir. Blimee, I'll carry her meself, if she tires. It's a bloody
nuisance, but 't ain't a sarcumstance to havin' a paint-an'-polish
bloomin' Hadmiral along in a ship. Take her, says I, an' Gawd bless
her."
They set out, Natalie marching between Rolfe and Blunt with the free,
supple swing and stride of a real girl of the outdoors. At least she
gave little promise of hindrance in the actual journey, no matter what
the outcome might be when action was afoot. And as they threaded their
tortuous way through odorous jungle and sickeningly sweet-scented
thicket, at the nimble heels of the silent guide, Natalie surprised
glances of awed admiration on the faces of her stout escorts.
Jerry Rolfe became so nearly converted to her side as the journey grew
hotter and heavier, seeing her maintain her pace as well as himself, if
not better, that he found himself stumbling every few yards sheerly
through his inability to keep his eyes from her. He was bursting to
talk; there was yet a problem unsolved in his mind; and when a stretch
of level glade gave him back his breath, he spoke.
"Tell me, Miss," he panted, "just what is that Vandersee?"
"Why, Mr. Vandersee is connected with the Holland Naval Service, I
believe, Mr. Rolfe. Why?" answered Natalie, with a cool smile.
Jerry Rolfe glared at her, his lips working furiously to no effect. He
could not speak; and Bill Blunt, who had caught question and answer,
seemed in as bad case. They sought each other's eyes, and the silent
interchange of thought between them solved the puzzle, at least as far
as the mate was concerned. He grew hot and almost choked; but his lips
could only utter:
"Naval service? Hell!"
He muttered an apology, but for the rest of the journey Natalie walked
in absolute bewilderment. She could have no idea of the effect of her
reply, except as outwardly evidenced in the mate's attitude. She could
not know that in the breast of Rolfe, as in that of Bill Blunt, she had
resurrected the demon of distrust towards Vandersee. All the voyage's
suspicion that had troubled Rolfe resurged to the top now; knowing that
Barry had been taken by supposed navy officers, the honest mate saw no
room for doubt that the big Hollander had deliberately insinuated
himself into the second mate's berth aboard the _Barang_ for no other
purpose than to defeat his skipper. And now he had done it properly.
Jerry Rolfe was sure of it. He told his decision to Blunt, who knew
Vandersee by report only; and the old sea-dog replied
characteristically,--by spitting into his palms and loosening his
cutlass in the sheath with a creepy rasp and crash.
Natalie Sheldon sensed the strain that had come upon her escorts, and
she felt less at ease in her journey. Never once had she faltered or
complained, though she was sadly hampered by her totally unsuitable
garments for such a walk. In the gloomy forest the heat was stifling;
the trackless jungle was full of creeping life; at every step the feet
tripped over fallen logs or crunched with shivery suggestion into rotten
shells of storm-torn tree limbs. Bright eyes gleamed at them through the
thickets, to vanish swiftly; monkeys in the foliage overhead chattered
and howled, swinging from tree to tree in alarm, and glaring down upon
the intruders with faces convulsed with rage.
The girl shuddered violently when a thick, gorged snake squirmed from
under her feet and scrawled like a monstrous slug into a bush. She
simply must talk, or drop, she thought, so attempted Jerry Rolfe again.
"Mr. Rolfe, I don't understand why you are upset at what I said
concerning Mr. Vandersee," she ventured.
"Huh," grunted Rolfe. "Naval man, you said, didn't you?"
"Why, yes. But how can that make you so fierce and grumpy?"
Old Bill Blunt grinned happily at her tone. He too had felt the
oppressiveness of a speechless march. Sufficient for the moment being
sufficient for him, the old salt had long since put aside all thoughts
of Vandersee and the Holland Navy, content to have all the trouble in
one parcel when it should come. He wanted to chatter, and cared nothing
what about.
"Be we grumpy, Missy?" he chuckled. "Then bust me binnacle if we ain't
swabs! Asks yer pardon, then--"
"Shut your trap!" growled Rolfe surlily. He muttered, for Natalie's ear
alone: "S'pose you heard that Cap'n Barry and Mr. Little was euchred by
a naval party, didn't you?"
"Yes, of course. But that cannot be in any way connected with Mr.
Vandersee. He's on leave, you know, for private business. He cannot
possibly be conducting official business now; and it's quite ridiculous
to think of him as being responsible for Captain Barry's misfortune.
Why--oh, Mr. Rolfe," she burst out, laughing a trifle unsteadily, "it's
too silly. Mr. Vandersee is about the one man here that speaks well of
your party."
"That's easy," retorted Rolfe, unconvinced. "Private business, o' course
he's on. Speaks well of us? Why not? Ain't he a slick, smart fellow? Why
wouldn't he speak well of us! He's got the skipper and Mr. Little
buffaloed by such tricks; I know that."
Miss Sheldon gave up in despair, turning to Blunt for relief from
Rolfe's surly silence. She found in the old sea dog a ready companion,
and he rattled along in his whimsical, uncouth language, spinning
endless yarns of a "Hadmiral as prayed to a paint pot" and "cleaned his
bloomin' teeth wi' holystone," until the girl unconsciously resumed her
brisk, tireless step and found herself laughing merrily in spite of her
disease of mind.
"An' there's our blessed Cap'n, ma'am," went on Bill, warming under the
girl's happiness. "Gennelmun if ther' ever wuz. Sees me, he do, a
roarin', ragged, bacca-chawin' ol' swab, an' I ses to him, 'Giv 's a
job,' an' he up an' makes me a bloomin' orf'cer! Me, as never knowed
nuthin' 'cept drawin' me grog rations twice. Missy, there's a man for
ye. If ever yer wantin' a real sailorman to steer yuh clear o' shoals,
Cap'n Barry's th' blue-eyed boy--Oh, blast my eyes!" Bill burst out, "I
forgot he's in the bilboes, Miss. Now ain't that a dummed shame?"
"I begin to think it is," replied Natalie seriously. She had rippled
with laughter while the old fellow chattered, had colored warmly at his
rough eulogy, and now felt a sinking of the spirits that harmonized not
at all with her earlier feelings.
"But what can you do, if he is in the hands of the naval authorities?"
she asked. "You wouldn't dare attack Government officers?"
"I dunno, Missy," returned Bill, scratching his towsled head in
perplexity. "That's fer Mr. Rolfe to say. I only knows as I'd tackle th'
Great High Hadmiral o' H--Beg pardon, lady, but you knows what I means,
I 'spect--I'd tackle him if 'twas to get Cap'n Barry offen a lee shore."
The girl relapsed into thoughtful silence, and the party plunged into a
belt of jungle so thick that single file was forced upon them. Here the
messenger despatched by Little, who had stayed behind at the post until
he recovered from his exhaustion, overtook them and told Rolfe that it
was here he last saw Barry's party.
"Get ahead with the guide," Rolfe ordered him, and the march was
conducted with stealth and painful slowness. A broken cane here and
patch of dead leaves crushed into the black mold there gave slender
hints that a party might have passed that way; and every ear was attuned
to preternatural keenness for human sounds, for the eye could not pierce
the thicket a yard before.
Out upon this tense atmosphere burst a ghostly brown native, own brother
to their guide in appearance, appearing so suddenly that Natalie uttered
a little shriek of alarm. Bill Blunt, cool as a cucumber, charged his
rifle chamber and clapped the muzzle against the brown man's breast
without a word. The man stopped, amazingly unafraid, ignored Bill, and
handed a piece of cane to Rolfe, picking him out as the leader
unerringly.
Jerry stared at the small stick, turning it over and over in his hand
like some backwoods denizen receiving a letter for the first time in
forty years and scared to open it. Then Natalie detected a loose end to
the stick and suggested that it might contain something of value. Rolfe
stripped a rice leaf from the cane, opened it, and found a message
written on it in a fair hand.
"On no account attack naval party. Barry and party are safe. Vandersee."
Rolfe glowered at the brief missive and looked up to find the messenger
gone and Bill Blunt staring at the muzzle of his rifle which had a
moment before been jammed against the man's brown skin. The mate read
the words aloud and sought for an answer in Miss Sheldon's eyes. She
brightened swiftly and cried out with relief:
"Oh, I said so, didn't I? Your captain and his party are safe in Mr.
Vandersee's hands if they have done no wrong."
"Safe in Vandersee's hands," repeated Jerry slowly, as if groping for
inspiration. "In--Vandersee's--hands! Pi'zen my soul, but that's what
I've believed all along! Come on--March!" he gritted, and plunged ahead.