IN DOROTHY'S STATEROOM
I stood crouched, with eye at the crack watchful of every movement in
the lighted cabin, my own decision made. I must see and talk with
Dorothy. We must understand each other, and the earlier we could thus
begin working together in unison, the better. Gunsaules bore a tray of
dishes from the Captain's room and then, after carefully wiping up the
main table, and sliding it up out of the way on its stantions, placed
a bottle of brandy and some glasses on a swinging shelf. Apparently
satisfied that his work there was completed he turned down the light,
and departed along the passage leading amidships. A moment later I
heard the sound of dishes grinding together preparatory to being
washed. No better opportunity for action was likely to occur, although
the situation was not without peril. Jose might emerge at any instant
from Sanchez's cabin, while I had no reason to be assured that Estada
would remain long on deck. Even if he did, any movement below could be
observed through the overhead glass. Indeed it might be with this
purpose in view that he had gone outside. However I felt compelled to
accept the chance. The light was so dim that I believed I could steal
cautiously along in the deeper shadows without attracting attention
from the deck, even if someone stood there on watch.
I moved noiselessly leaving my own door slightly ajar, and crept
along close to the side walls until I attained my destination.
Nothing occurred causing me to fear my movements were detected. To
have knocked at the closed door however softly might be overheard, so
knowing it to be unlocked I merely lifted the latch noiselessly, and
slipped quickly within. There was no light, except a glimmer of stars
through a large after port, but against this faint radiance she stood
vaguely revealed. Evidently the girl had been standing there, gazing
out at the waters, and had turned swiftly about at my entrance,
aroused by some slight sound. Her first thought must have been Estada,
for there was a startled note of fear in her challenge.
"Who are you? Why do you come here?"
"Speak low," I cautioned. "You must know my voice."
"Geoffry Carlyle!"
"Yes, but do not use that name--all hope depends on my remaining
unknown. You welcome me?"
She came straight forward through the dim star-shine, a spectral
figure, with both hands outstretched.
"Welcome!" her tone that of intense sincerity. "Your presence gives me
all the strength I have. But for you I should throw myself through
that port into the sea. But I know not how you came here--tell me, you
are not really one of these wretches?"
"No; you must believe that first of all, and trust me."
"I do--but--but tell me all you can."
"Is there a divan here, or anywhere we can sit down together? I can
see nothing in this darkness."
"Yes, hold my hand while I guide you; we can sit here." It was a
couch of some kind against the outer wall. She did not release her
grasp, seemingly gaining courage from this physical contact, and my
fingers closed warmly over her own.
"Now please," breathlessly, "how is it possible you are aboard this
vessel--an officer?"
I told her the strange story, as swiftly and simply as possible,
speaking scarcely above a whisper, feeling as I progressed that I
related a dream rather than a series of facts. It seemed to me she
could scarcely be expected to believe the truth of what I said, and
yet she did, almost unquestioningly, the clasp of her fingers
perceptibly tightening as I proceeded. The soft light from the open
port touched her face slightly, enough to reveal its outline and she
sat so close beside me, her eyes uplifted to mine, that I could feel
her breath upon my cheek.
"Why, if---if you had not told me this yourself I could hardly believe
such a tale," she exclaimed. "Yet it must be true, miraculous as it
seems. But what is to be the ending? Have you any plan of escape?"
"Hardly a plan. I have had no opportunity even to learn the true
nature of the crew. Watkins is an honest sailor, and he has told me of
others on whom I could rely. There are those aboard--but I do not know
how many--who would mutiny if they had a leader, and a reasonable
chance of success. I must reach these and learn who they are.
Fortunately the voyage promises to be long enough to enable me to plan
carefully."
"You have discussed the voyage with this man--Estada?" "He told me
what he had decided upon; not to return to their rendezvous until
after they had captured some prizes, and could go with gold chinking
in their pockets."
"They have gold already--the chest taken from my uncle."
"That only serves to make such as these more greedy."
"Where is their rendezvous?"
"An island in the West Indies, probably not on the chart. They call it
Porto Grande."
"And they will sweep the ocean between here and there, seeking
victims? Unarmed merchantmen to rob and sink? And you--you will be
compelled to take part in such scenes, such acts of pillage and
perhaps murder. Is this true?"
"I presume I must seem to be one of them to avoid suspicion. There is
some hope in my mind that we may chance to run into an English or
French warship. Quite a few must be cruising in these waters. But
these are only contingencies; they may happen and they may not. How we
are to act under such conditions will have to be decided later. Now we
must be content to seek release through our own efforts. Have you any
suggestions?"
She was silent for a long moment, during which she withdrew her hand,
pressing it over her eyes as though thus to better concentrate her
thoughts.
"There is conspiracy on board already," she said finally "that you may
not know about."
"You mean to depose Sanchez?" I questioned in surprise.
"Yes; you had suspicioned it? They thought me unconscious in the
boat, and talked among themselves--the two at the stern, Estada and
that beast, Manuel. I did not understand all they said, only a word or
two, but I do not think they intend the Captain shall recover."
"You think it best that he should?"
"Oh, I do not know; there is no best that I can see. Yet I would have
more faith in being spared disgrace if at the mercy of Sanchez, than
his lieutenant. Both may be equally guilty, equally desperate, but
they are not the same men."
"True, but I know not which is to be most feared."
"I may be wrong," she insisted, "for I judge as a woman, yet I would
feel safer with Sanchez. He cares not much for me, perhaps, yet enough
so that I possess some power over him. The other does not--he merely
desires with the passions of a brute. No appeal would reach him; he
would laugh at tears and find pleasure in suffering. I do not quite
believe this of Sanchez."
"Perhaps not---the other may be the greater beast."
"I know he is; the proof is in those horrid eyes. What is the man? Of
what race?"
"Portuguese, I am told, but likely a half-breed."
"Ugh! it makes me shudder to even look at him; and yet you would have
me appear friendly?"
"We cannot permit him to feel that either of us are enemies. He is the
power aboard; our lives, everything are in his hands. If he means to
be rid of Sanchez, the man is doomed, for he will find a way to
accomplish his purpose at whatever cost; murder means nothing to these
men."
"Of course you are right," she acknowledged. "Our case is so
desperate we must resort to any weapons. You believe it will serve
the possibility of escape if I permit this monster to imagine that I
have some interest in him?"
"To do so might delay the explosion," I replied gravely, "and just now
any delay is welcome. I know how such an effort will try you, but the
end may be well worth the sacrifice. I doubt if even Estada will
resort to force on board; indeed force will be the very last card he
will care to play in your case. He is a brute, and capable of any
crime, yet at heart a coward. There is reason why he will fear to
assault you. You are English and all the practical seamen on board are
from northern Europe--English and Scandinavian. These men are not
pirates from choice--they are prisoners who have taken on to save
their own lives. With his bullies and cut-throats amidships he can
compel them to work, but he dare not go too far. Once these fellows
unite in mutiny they could take the ship. An assault on you would be
dangerous."
"It is these men you count on?"
"Yes; but for me to gain their confidence and leadership will require
time. I must reach them all secretly and alone. Not more than half are
in my watch, and Watkins must approach the others. A plan for
concerted action will have to be arranged, and every precaution taken.
The slightest slip would mean failure, and merciless punishment. Even
if I succeed in gathering together all these better elements on board,
we shall yet be outnumbered two to one, perhaps more, and our only
hope rests in surprise. At best the situation is absolutely
desperate--but I see no other solution."
"And my service is deceit--the acting of a part to blind the eyes of
Estada?"
"I sincerely believe your greater chance of security lies in this
course. The fellow is a supreme egotist; opposition will anger him,
while flattery will make him subservient. You have the wit and
discretion to hold him within certain limits. It is a dangerous game,
I admit, and a disagreeable one, but the case requires desperate
remedies."
She lifted her eyes, searching my face through the dim light.
"Geoffry Carlyle," she said, at last, a tremor in the low voice,
"there is no sacrifice I would not make to preserve my honor. I hate
this man; I dread his touch; I shrink from contact with him, as I
would from a snake, but I am not going to refuse to do my part. If you
say this is right, and justified, I will consent."
"I believe it is."
"And you will not lose faith in me?" she questioned earnestly. "It
will not lower your belief in my womanhood?"
"Nothing could do that. Mistress Dorothy, I want you to realize the
depth of my interest and respect. Your friendliness has meant much to
me, and I would never urge you to lower your ideals. But we must face
this situation as it is. You cannot cling now to the standards of
London, or even Maryland. We are on the ocean, upon a pirate ship,
surrounded by men utterly devoid of all restraint--hell-hounds of the
sea, who live by murder and pillage. We possess but two weapons of
defense--deceit, or force. A resort to the latter is at present
impossible. I cannot conceive that you are lowering yourself in any
way by using the power you possess to escape violence--"
"The power I possess?"
"Yes--beauty and wit. These are your weapons, and most effective ones.
You can play with Estada and defeat him--temporarily at least. I
confess there is danger in such a game--he is a wild beast, and his
evil nature may overcome his discretion. You are armed?"
"No; I have never felt the need."
"Then take this," and I thrust a pistol into her hands. "I took it
from the rack in the cabin, and can get another. It is charged; keep
it hidden about your person, but use it only when all else fails. Do
you see this necessity now from my standpoint?"
"Yes," hesitatingly, "all that you say is true, but--but the thought
frightens me; it--it is like creeping into a lion's cage having only a
fan with which to defend myself."
I smiled at her conceit.
"A fan rightly used is no insignificant weapon. In the hands of a
woman it has won many a victory. I have faith in your wielding it to
the best effect--the lasting discomfiture of Senor Estada."
"You laugh," indignantly, "believing me a coquette--a girl to play
with men?"
"No; that misconstrues my thought. I believe you a true woman, yet
possessing the natural instincts of your sex, and able to use your
weapons efficiently. There is no evil in that, no reproach. I would
not have you otherwise, and we must not misunderstand each other. You
retain faith in me?"
"Implicitly."
"And pledge yourself to your part, leaving me to attend to mine?"
Her two hands clasped my fingers, her eyes uplifted.
"Geoffry Carlyle, I have always believed in you, and now, after the
sacrifice you have made to serve me, I can refuse you nothing you ask.
I will endeavor to accomplish all you require of me. God knows how I
hate the task; but--but I will do my best. Only--only," her voice
sank, "if--if the monster cannot be held, I will kill him."
"I hope you do."
"I shall! If the beast lays hands on me he--he pays the price. I could
not do otherwise. Geoffry Carlyle--I am a Fairfax."
Satisfied with my mission, and confident nothing more need be said, I
arose to my feet.
"Then we can do nothing further, until I learn the disposition of the
crew," I said quietly. "Estada is not likely to resort to extreme
measures at present. He has two objects before him---to permit Sanchez
to die of his wounds, if that is at all probable; and to win the men
by some successful capture. These fellows only retain command by
success. The taking of a rich ship will make Estada a hero, while a
defeat would mean his overthrow, and the ascendancy of someone else.
There is no other test of a robber chief. Estada knows this, and will
not dare act until he has put clinking coin in the pockets of his men.
That is why I believe you are comparatively safe now--his own
position of command is in the balance."
"I am glad you explained that to me, The knowledge will give me more
confidence."
"Do not rely too much on his control of himself. There is no trust to
be put in such a man. I must go now, and endeavor to reach my quarters
unseen."
"I will see you again?"
"Perhaps not here; it is too dangerous, but I will find means to
communicate with you. Possibly the steward can be trusted as a
messenger; I will talk with him and make sure. Meanwhile we must not
appear interested in each other. Good-bye."
We stood with hands clasped in the darkness. I thought she was going
to speak again, but the words failed to come. Then suddenly, silently,
the door opened a mere crack, letting in a gleam of yellow light from
the main cabin, while the crouching figure of a man, like a gliding
shadow slipped through the aperture, closing the door behind him as
softly as he had opened it. I heard her catch her breath, and felt her
hands grasp my sleeve, but I never stirred. The fellow had neither
seen nor heard us, and I stared into the black curtain, endeavoring to
locate him by some sound of movement.
Who could he be? What might be the purpose of his entrance? But one
answer occurred to me--Pedro Estada, driven by unbridled passions to
attack the girl. Mad as such an act would be, yet no other explanation
seemed possible. I thrust her behind me, and took a step forward, with
body poised for action. I was unarmed, but cared little for that in
the swift desire felt to come to hand grips with the brute. I could
hear him now, slowly and cautiously feeling his way toward us through
the darkness.