CAPRICIOUS FATE
A wireless was sent to the shore, reporting the failure of the
_Salvador_ to locate the runaway aëroplane and asking if any tidings
had been received of Orissa Kane and Sybil Cumberford.
There was no news.
Madeline called her passengers together again for a further
consultation.
"What shall we do?" she asked.
Neither Steve nor Mr. Cumberford could well reply. Miss Dentry had
generously placed her splendid yacht at their disposal and in person
had conducted the search, neglecting no detail that might contribute to
their success. But failure had resulted and they could not ask her to
continue what appeared to be a hopeless undertaking. Steve, who had had
ample time to consider this finale, tried to answer her question.
"We are very grateful to you, Miss Dentry," he said, "and both Mr.
Cumberford and I fully appreciate the sacrifice you have made in so
promptly trying to rescue our girls. That we face failure is no fault
of yours, nor of your crew, and I realize that you have already done
all that humanity or friendship might require. Of course you understand
that we cannot give up until my sister's fate, and that of Miss
Cumberford, is positively determined. Therefore, as soon as we reach
shore we shall organize another expedition to continue the quest."
"You are doing me an injustice, sir," returned the girl gravely.
"Whatever my former plans may have been I am now determined not to
abandon this voyage until we have found your sister and her companion.
I was greatly attracted by Orissa Kane, and grieve over her sad fate
sincerely. Moreover, I do not like to put my hand to the plow without
completing the furrow. Unless you believe you can charter a better boat
for your purpose than the _Salvador_, or can find a crew more devoted
to your interests, I shall order Captain Krell to turn about and renew
the search."
That, of course, settled the matter. The _Salvador_ put about and
returned to a point where the see-sawing must be renewed and extended
to cover more expanse of ocean.
Chesty Todd, coming to where Madeline stood beside the rail, looked
into her piquant face with frank admiration.
"Excuse me, Miss Dentry," said he, "but you're what I'd call a
brick. I knew, of course, you'd stick it out, but there's no harm in
congratulating a girl on being true blue. I'm awfully glad you--you had
the grit to tackle it again. I'll never be myself again until those
girls are found."
She looked up at him reflectively.
"Which of the young ladies are you engaged to?" she asked.
"Me?" blushing like a schoolboy; "neither one, if you please.
They--they're only kids, you know."
"Then which one do you love?"
"Both!" said Chesty Todd, earnestly. "They're splendid girls, Miss
Dentry; _your_ sort, you know."
She smiled.
"Then it's the 'sort' you love?" she asked.
"Yes, if you'll allow me. Not the individual--as yet. When I love the
individual I hope it'll be the right sort, but I'm so humbly unlucky
I'll probably make a mistake."
For the first time since their acquaintance Madeline found the big
boy interesting. She knew very little of the history of the Kanes
and Cumberfords, but found Chesty eager to speak of them and of his
past relations with them, being loud in his praise for the entire
"combination." Cumberford was an eccentric fellow, according to
Mr. Radley-Todd, but "straight as a die." Steve was chock full of
ability and talent, but not very practical in business ways. Mrs.
Kane, Orissa's blind mother, was the sweetest and gentlest lady in the
world, Sybil Cumberford a delightful mystery that defied fathoming but
constantly allured one to the attempt, while Orissa----
"Orissa Kane is a girl you'll have to read yourself, Miss Dentry,
and the more you study her the better you'll love her. She's girl
all over, and the kind of girl one always hopes to meet but seldom
does. Old-fashioned in her gentleness, simplicity, truth and candor;
up-to-the-minute in the world's latest discovery--the art of flying.
Modest as Tennyson's dairymaid; brave as a trooper; a maid with a true
maid's heart and a thorough sport when you give her an aëroplane to
manage. Excuse me. I don't often talk this way; usually I can only
express myself in writing. But a fellow who wouldn't enthuse over
Orissa Kane could only have one excuse--total dumbness."
"I see," said Madeline, slyly. "Miss Kane is the type of the 'sort' of
girl you love."
"Exactly. But tell me, since you've started on such an indefinite
cruise, is the _Salvador_ well provisioned?"
"From the sublime to the ridiculous! We have stores to last our party
six weeks, without scrimping."
"Good. And coal?"
"Enough for a month's continuous run. I had intended a trip to
Honolulu--perhaps as far as Japan--and had prepared for it even before
I was privileged to lay eyes on my yacht."
"How fortunate that was, for all of us! Somehow, I've a feeling we
shall find those girls, this time. Before, I had a sort of hunch we
were destined to fail. Can you explain that?"
"I shall not try."
"We didn't allow enough for the wind. A sudden gust might have whirled
the Aircraft in any direction, and it would jog along on that route
until the next blow."
"Do you believe they are still alive?" she asked softly.
"Yes; I've never been able to think of them as--as--otherwise. They are
wonderfully clever girls, and Orissa knows aëroplanes backwards and
forwards. She's as much at home in the air as a bird; and why shouldn't
the machine fall gently to the water, when the gasoline gave out? If it
did, they can float any length of time, and the Pacific has been like
a mill pond ever since they started. According to Mr. Cumberford, they
have enough food with them to last for several days. I've an idea we
shall run across them bobbing up and down on the water, as happy and
contented as two babes in the wood." The big fellow sighed as he said
this, and Madeline understood he was trying to encourage himself, as
well as her.
In spite of Chesty Todd's prediction, day followed day in weary search
and the lost aëroplane was not sighted. Captain and crew had now
abandoned hope and performed their duties in a perfunctory way. Stephen
Kane had grown thin and pale and deep lines of grief marked his boyish
face. Mr. Cumberford was silent and stern. He paced the deck constantly
but avoided conversation with Steve. Madeline, however, kept up
bravely, and so did Chesty Todd. They were much together, these trying
days, and did much to cheer one another's spirits. Had a vote been
taken, on that tenth dreary day, none but these two would have declared
in favor of prolonging what now appeared to be a hopeless quest.
"You see," said Chesty to Madeline, yet loud enough to be heard by both
Cumberford and Steve, "there's every chance of the girls having drifted
to some island, where of course they'd find food in plenty; or they
may have been picked up by some ship on a long voyage, and we'll hear
of 'em from some foreign port. There are lots of ways, even on this
trackless waste, of their being rescued."
This suggestion was made to counteract the grim certainty that the
castaways had by now succumbed to starvation, if they still remained
afloat. Several small islands had already been encountered and closely
scanned, with the idea that the girls might have sought refuge on one
of them. The main thing that kept alive the spark of hope was the
fact that no vestige of the Aircraft had been seen. It would float
indefinitely, whether wrecked or not, for the boat had enough air-tight
compartments to sustain it even in a high sea.
On the evening of this tenth day the _Salvador_ experienced the first
rough weather of the trip. The day had been sultry and oppressive and
toward sundown the sky suddenly darkened and a stiff breeze caught
them. By midnight it was blowing a hurricane and even the sturdy
captain began to have fears for the safety of the yacht.
There was little danger to the stout craft from wind or waves, but the
sea in this neighborhood was treacherous and full of those rocky islets
so much dreaded by mariners. Captain Krell studied his chart constantly
and kept a sharp lookout ahead; but in such a night, on a practically
unknown sea, there was bound to be a certain degree of peril.
There was as little sleep for the passengers as for the crew on this
eventful night. The women had been warned not to venture on deck,
where it was dangerous even for the men; but Madeline Dentry would
not stay below. She seemed to delight in defying the rage of the
elements. Clinging to the arm of Chesty Todd, the huge bulk of whose
six-feet-three stood solid as a monument, she peered through the night
and followed the glare of the searchlight, now doubly useful, for it
showed the pilot a clear sea ahead.
Mr. Tupper bumped into them, embraced Chesty for support and then
bounded to the rail, to which he clung desperately.
"Why are you on deck?" asked Madeline, sternly. "Go below at once!"
Just then a roll of the yacht slid him across the deck, tumbled him
against the poop and then carried him sprawling into the scuppers.
When he recovered his breath Mr. Tupper crawled cautiously to the
companionway and disappeared into the cabin.
Steve and Mr. Cumberford had lashed themselves to the rail and in spite
of the drenching spray continued to peer into the wild night with
fearful intensity. Both were sick at heart, for they knew if the girls
had managed to survive till now, their tiny boat would be unable to
weather the storm. Every shriek of the wind, which often resembled a
human cry, set them shivering with terror.
It was toward morning when the glare of the searchlight suddenly
revealed a dark peak just ahead. Stephen Kane and Mr. Cumberford saw
it, even as the warning scream of the lookout rang in their ears.
Captain Krell saw it, and marveling at its nearness, sprang to the
wheel. Madeline and Chesty saw it, too, and instinctively the big
fellow put his arms around her as if to shield her.
Wild cries resounded from the deck; the bells rang frantically; the
engines stopped short and then reversed just as a huge wave came from
behind, caught the _Salvador_ on its crest and swept her forward in its
onward rush. Two men threw their weight upon the wheel without effect:
the propeller was raised by the wave above the water line and whirred
and raced madly in the air, while beneath the gleam of the searchlight
a monstrous mass of rock seemed swiftly advancing to meet the fated
ship.
Past the port side, where Madeline and her escort clung, swept a jagged
point of rock; the yacht bumped with a force that sent everyone
aboard reeling forward in a struggling heap; then it trembled, moaned
despairingly and lay still, while the wave that had carried it to its
doom flooded the decks with tons of water and receded to gloat over the
mischief it had caused.
The searchlight was out; blackness surrounded the bruised and
bewildered men and women who struggled to regain their feet, while in
their ears echoed a chorus of terrifying shrieks not of the wind, but
so evidently emanating from living creatures that they added materially
to the panic of the moment.
Chesty Todd released Madeline, gasping and half drowned, from the
tangle of humanity in the bow, and succeeded in getting her to the
rail. The bow of the yacht was high and it lay over on one side, so
that the deck was at a difficult angle.
"Are--are we sinking?" asked the girl, confused and unnerved by the
calamity.
"No, indeed," replied Chesty, his mouth to her ear. "We can't sink,
now, for we're on solid ground and lying as still as a stuffed giraffe."
"Oh, what shall we do?" she cried, wringing her hands. "If we are
wrecked we can't save Orissa--perhaps we can't save ourselves! Oh, what
shall we do?--what shall we do?"
The boy saw that the shock had destroyed her usual poise and he could
feel her trembling as she clung to him.
"My advice," he said quietly, "is that we all get to bed and have a
wink of sleep. It has been a long and exciting day for us, hasn't it?"