IN WHICH WE ARE BELEAGUERED IN THE CAVE
“Master Hampton,” she said, bending over me, having arisen without
disturbing me, “it is morning.”
I sprang to my feet instantly, as she shook me gently, and grasped my
sword as I did so, whereat she laughed.
“Why did you not awaken me?” she asked reprovingly.
“I don’t know, I must have--” I began in great confusion.
“You must have gone to sleep yourself,” she laughed again, and I
marveled, but thankfully, to see her so cheerful.
“I am ashamed,” I replied, “that I should have failed in my duty to
keep good watch. I didn’t awaken you when I might because you needed
sleep yourself, and then like a great animal I went to sleep myself.”
“I am glad,” she said, smiling at me, and I could just see her lovely
face faintly in the dark twilight of the cave, “that you did since
nothing happened.”
“It is just as well then,” I said, smiling in turn, “we have both slept
soundly and well. I feel greatly refreshed.”
“And I.”
“Thank God,” I said fervently.
“What is to be done now?” she asked.
“First breakfast.”
I broke open a cocoanut with my axe, I had become expert at it, and
we had food and drink in plenty, and for variety some of the hard
bread which still remained and other fruit. I lighted the lantern
for a moment and went toward the sound of the falling water. The
cocoanut shell made an excellent cup and I brought her enough clear,
cool, sweet water to lave her face and hands. Save for the stiffness
of the constrained position and some slight pain caused by the damp
we were both fit for any adventure. Well, we should have need of all
our strength doubtless. When we finished our meal and our refreshing
ablutions, she looked at me inquiringly.
“Well, what next?”
“The next thing,” said I, “is to see what is toward.”
“You won’t leave the cave,” she said, catching me by the shoulder.
“I should find it difficult were I so minded,” I answered, smiling and
thrilling to her touch again as always. Indeed, I have never got used
to it even after all these years. As I look back on the scenes of the
past now I do not think I have ever had happier moments in my life than
those in which she clung to me and was dependent upon me.
“Why not?” she asked.
“You forget that we broke down the way last night.”
“But you are a sailor, you might make shift.”
“Yes, but not you,” I answered.
“Without me?”
“Without you I go nowhere.”
She looked at me with shining eyes.
“Come,” said I, “let us go into the outer room. We may find out
something.”
I had wound my watch in the dark and looked at it now as we came
into the light. It was three bells in the morning watch, or about
half after nine. We went past the altar with its grim bony circle
of attendants, and stared through the entrance. There was an open
space at the foot of the cliff forty or fifty yards wide perhaps
before the jungle began. After looking some time and seeing nothing I
foolishly--and yet it would have made no difference in the end--stepped
out upon the shelf which made a sort of platform in front of the cave
and Mistress Lucy fearlessly came with me.
We had scarcely appeared in view when to our astounded surprise we
heard the report of a firearm and a heavy bullet struck the coral wall
just over our heads. I had just time to mark the spot whence it came,
by the betraying smoke, as I leaped back into the shelter carrying my
precious charge before me. I was puzzled beyond measure. I was certain
that the savages in these parts of the South Seas knew nothing about
firearms and I could not account for it. The shower of arrows and
spears that now came through the opening and fell harmlessly on the
sand I could easily account for, but not that shot. What could it mean?
I felt that I could hold my own against savages without difficulty,
but if there were European enemies there the case was different.
“That,” said I solemnly, “was a narrow escape.”
“Do these islanders have firearms?” she asked, the same thought in her
mind.
“I never heard of it,” I replied. “I cannot account for it.”
“I can, though,” she said; “just before the discharge of that gun I
caught sight of a man in clothes such as you wear. Is it possible that
it could be one from _The Rose of Devon_?”
I nodded my head, a light at once breaking upon me.
“It is quite likely,” I answered, “now it is certain.”
At this moment our further conversation was interrupted by a hail. To
our great amazement we heard in that lonely island my own name called!
That hail could only come from a survivor of the ship. It confirmed our
surmises about the shot.
“Master Hampdon,” the cry came to us, “will you respect a flag of
truce? If so, show yourself at the opening and I shall do the same.”
“Don’t go,” cried my little mistress, hearing all, “they are utterly
without honor, and--”
“I think it will be best for me to appear,” I said. “Stand clear so
that if any treacherous movement be made I shall have space to leap
backward, and meanwhile look to your weapons.”
I examined my own pistols and then calling out loudly that I would
faithfully observe the flag of truce, I stepped out into the open.
There below me on the edge of the glade, convenient to a tree behind
which he could leap, for the rascal trusted me apparently as little as
I trusted him, stood the wretch, Pimball. Back of him beneath the trees
I distinguished Glibby and a number of the crew, nearly all of them, I
should judge, and back of these were massed the savages. Pimball had a
white neckcloth tied to the muzzle of his gun.
“Good morning, Master Hampdon,” he began suavely.
To that salutation I made no reply. I did not deign even to pass the
time of day with such a man as he.
“Say what you have to say and be quick about it,” I said haughtily,
but he looked past me and took off his hat with a profound sweep.
“Good morning, Mistress Wilberforce,” he cried.
I turned in a hurry and found that she had stepped out by my side,
completely disobeying my positive direction. The two of us presented a
fair mark for any weapon; one might escape, but hardly two if Pimball’s
men opened fire.
“Get back!” I cried harshly in mingled amazement and dismay.
“I stay where you are,” she answered firmly. “See, I, too, am armed,”
her little hand lifted her own pistol.
“I can talk with the two of you jest as well as with one, or even
better,” interposed Pimball smoothly, “an’ the lady won’t need her
pistol.”
“Talk on and be brief,” I returned, seeing there was no use in arguing
with my little mistress who always did have her own way in the end.
[Illustration: “She had stepped out by my side.”]
Yet I did take the precaution to interpose my bulk between the man on
the ground and my lady who strove to move around me, but I stubbornly
held my position and compelled her to keep in the background where
she was in less danger.
“You’ve found the treasure,” he began, “there ain’t no use denyin’
it; we’ve l’arnt from our savage friends that the stuff is there. In
years gone by they sacrificed here an’ on the cone yonder, but for
generations the island has been taboo. The comin’ of the white man has
broke the ban an’ we’re here to take the treasure away with us.”
“Indeed!” said I sarcastically, whereat he turned pale with anger but
still mastered himself.
“We offer you,” he continued, “safety. We can’t take you with us, but
we’ll leave you here on the island arter we have fetched away the
treasure.”
“Thank you,” I returned, “you are vastly kind.”
He bit his lip at that and then his eyes turned from me to my companion.
“If you are willin’ to give up the woman,” he said suddenly, revealing
his real villainy, “I’ll enroll you with our followin’ an’ we’ll all
git away together on _The Rose of Devon_.”
“What of the ship?” I asked.
It was a hard thing to control my temper, but I wanted the information
and until I got it I must command myself.
“She was badly damaged when she took ground on the sand durin’ the
storm but not entirely wrecked, an’ is still seaworthy. We’ve patched
her up, too. We can git away in her an’ you can navigate her, or we can
do without you, for that matter, an’ make shift to git her back to the
South American coast at least.”
“So you offer me free passage and my share of the treasure if I will
give up Mistress Wilberforce, do you?”
“That’s just it,” answered Pimball. “Eh, mates?” whereat a deep chorus
of approval came from Glibby and the men.
“And this is my answer,” I said furiously, leveling my pistol at him.
“Get back, you villain, or you will have looked your last on life.”
“But the flag of truce,” he cried, dropping his weapon in surprise.
“It is not meant to cover such propositions as yours. As for the
treasure, you shall have it when you can get it.”
As I spoke he sprang behind the tree and motioned to his men to fire,
but I was too quick for him, and we were safely behind the walls of
the cave when the sound of the reports came to us. I had carried my
mistress there before me in my unceremonious backward rush.
“It was bravely said,” began my lady, “but if I were not here, you--”
I laughed.
“You are here and if you were not they would murder me like a sheep
when they had got out of me all they wanted.”
“Yes,” said she, “I suppose so. Now what is to be done?”
“The next move,” said I, “is with them.”
“Shall we go further back into the cave?”
“No, we will stay here for the moment,” I replied.
We were not long left in suspense for I could hear them breaking
through the woods and rushing toward the entrance. Missiles in the way
of weapons there were none in the cave, but I picked up a skull that
lay on the floor and hurled it out of the opening into the unseen crowd
below on a venture. A shriek told me that I had hit someone, but I saw
at once that the game was one I could not play longer, for a rain of
missiles, stones, arrows, what not, fell in the entrance.
These villainous white men had some skill at warfare, it seemed.
They had posted covering parties to protect the workmen who had been
detailed to repair and make possible the approach. I stepped cautiously
toward the entrance and peered down. I could see them working hard,
piling up the stones to enable them to get at us, while back of them
others stood with drawn bows and presented weapons.
I did not come off unscathed, for as I sprang back after having thrown
another skull and taken my look, an arrow hit me in the fleshy part of
my arm. My mistress noticed it instantly. The stone head had broken off
and it was the work of an instant to draw out the slender wood shaft.
It was not at all a bad wound but it was quite painful. The next thing
she did amazed me beyond measure, for before I could prevent it my
mistress had put her lips to the wound.
“What mean you?” I cried when I could recover myself.
“It might have been poisoned,” she said quietly, looking at me with
luminous eyes, “and I cannot have you die!”