It was fortunate that I slept well in my narrow berth on board the
Rufus Smith, for the next day was one of trial. Aunt Jane had
recovered what Mr. Tubbs, with deprecating coughs behind his hand,
alluded to as her sea-legs, and staggered forth wanly, leaning on
the arm of Miss Higglesby-Browne. Yes, of Miss Browne, while I,
Aunt Jane's own niece, trotted meekly in the rear with a cushion.
Already I had begun to realize how fatally I had underrated the
lady of the hyphen, in imagining I had only to come and see and
conquer Aunt Jane. The grim and bony one had made hay while the
sun shone--while I was idling in California, and those criminally
supine cousins were allowing Aunt Jane to run about New York at her
own wild will. Miss Higglesby-Browne had her own collar and tag on
Aunt Jane now, while she, so complete was her perversion, fairly
hugged her slavery and called it freedom. Yes, she talked about
her Emancipation and her Soul-force and her Individuality,
prattling away like a child that has learned its lesson well.
"Mercy, aunty, what long words!" I cried gaily, sitting down beside
her and patting her hand. Usually I can do anything with her when
I pet her up a bit. But the eye of Miss Higglesby-Browne was on
her--and Aunt Jane actually drew a little away.
"Really, Virginia," she said, feebly endeavoring to rise to the
occasion as she knew Miss Browne would have her rise, "really,
while it's very nice to see you and all that, still I hope you
realize that I have had a--a deep Soul-experience, and that I am no
longer to be--trifled with and--and treated as if I were--amusing.
I am really at a loss to imagine why you came. I wrote you that I
was in the company of _trusted friends_."
"Friends?" I echoed aggrievedly. "Friends are all very well, of
course, but when you and I have just each other, aunty, I think it
is unkind of you to expect me to stay thousands of miles away from
you all by myself."
"But it was you who sent me to New York, and insisted on my staying
there!" she cried. Evidently she had been living over her wrongs.
"Yes--but how different!" I interrupted hastily. "There were the
cousins--of course I have to spare you sometimes to the rest of the
family!" Aunt Jane is strong on family feeling, and frequently
reproaches me with my lack of it.
But in expecting Aunt Jane to soften at this I reckoned without
Miss Higglesby-Browne. A dart from the cold gray eyes galvanized
my aunt into a sudden rigid erectness.
"My dear Virginia," she said with quavering severity, "let me
remind you that there are ties even dearer than those of
blood--soul-affinities, you know, and--and, in short, in my dear
friend Miss Higglesby-Browne I have met for the first time in my
life with a--a Sympathetic Intelligence that understands Me!"
So that was Violet's line! I surveyed the Sympathetic Intelligence
with a smiling interest.
"Really, how nice! And of course you feel quite sure that on your
side you thoroughly understand--Miss Higglesby-Browne?"
Miss Browne's hair was rather like a clothesbrush in her mildest
moods. In her rising wrath it seemed to quiver like a lion's mane.
"Miss Harding," she said, in the chest-tones she reserved for
critical moments, "has a nature impossible to deceive, because
itself incapable of deception. Miss Harding and I first met--on
this present plane--in an atmosphere unusually favorable to
soul-revelation. I knew at once that here was the appointed
comrade, while in Miss Harding there was the immediate recognition
of a complementary spiritual force."
"It's perfectly true, Virginia," exclaimed Aunt Jane, beginning to
cry. "You and Susan and everybody have always treated me as if I
were a child and didn't know what I wanted, when the fact is I
always have known _perfectly well_!" The last words issued in a
wail from the depths of her handkerchief.
"You mean, I suppose," I exploded, "that what you have always
wanted was to go off on this perfectly crazy chase after imaginary
treasure!" There, now I had gone and done it. Of course it was my
red hair.
"Jane," uttered Miss Higglesby-Browne in deep and awful tones, "do
you or do you not realize how strangely prophetic were the warnings
I gave you from the first--that if you revealed our plans malignant
Influences would be brought to bear? Be strong, Jane--cling to the
Dynamic Thought!"
"I'm clinging!" sniffed Aunt Jane, dabbing away her tears. I never
saw any one get so pink about the eyes and nose at the smallest
sign of weeping, and yet she is always doing it. "Really,
Virginia," she broke out in a whimper, "it is not kind to say, I
suppose, but I would just as soon you hadn't come! Just when I was
learning to expand my individuality--and then you come and somehow
make it seem so much more difficult!"
I rose. "Very well, Aunt Jane," I said coldly. "Expand all you
like. When you get to the bursting point I'll do my best to save
the pieces. For the present I suppose I had better leave you to
company so much more favorable to your soul development!" And I
walked away with my head in the air.
It was so much in the air, and the deck of the _Rufus Smith_ was so
unstable, that I fell over a coil of rope and fetched up in the
arms of the Honorable Cuthbert Vane. Fortunately this occurred
around the corner of the deck-house, out of sight of my aunt and
Miss Browne, so the latter was unable to shed the lurid light on
the episode which she doubtless would if she had seen it. Mr. Vane
stood the shock well and promptly set me on my feet.
"I say!" he exclaimed sympathetically, "not hurt, are you? Beastly
nuisance, you know, these ropes lying about--regular man-traps, I
call 'em."
"Thanks, I'm quite all right," I said, and as I spoke two large
genuine tears welled up into my eyes. I hadn't realized till I
felt them smarting on my eyelids how deeply hurt I was at the
unnatural behavior of Aunt Jane.
"Ah--I'm afraid you are really not quite all right!" returned the
Honorable Cuthbert with profound concern. "Tell me what's the
matter--please do!"
I shook my head. "It's nothing--you couldn't help me. It's
just--Aunt Jane."
"Your aunt? Has she been kicking-up a bit? I thought she looked
rather a mild sort."
"Oh--mild! That's just it--so mild that she has let this awful
Higglesby-Browne person get possession of her body and soul."
"Oh, I say, aren't you a bit rough on Miss Browne? Thought she was
a rather remarkable old party--goes in strong for intellect and all
that, you know."
"That's just what fooled Aunt Jane so--but, I thought a man would
know better." My feathers were ruffled again.
"Well, fact is, I'm not so much up in that sort of thing myself,"
he admitted modestly. "Rather took her word for it and all that,
you know. There's Shaw, though--cleverest chap going, I assure
you. I rather fancy Miss Browne couldn't pull the wool over _his_
eyes much."
"She evidently did, though," I said snappishly, "since he's let her
rope him in for such a wild goose chase as this!" In my heart I
felt convinced that the clever Mr. Shaw was merely Miss Browne's
partner in imposture.
"Oh, really, now. Miss Harding, you don't think it's that--that
the thing's all moonshine?" He stared at me in grieved surprise.
"Why, what else can it be?" I demanded, driven by my wrongs to the
cruelty of shattering his illusions. "Who ever heard of a pirate's
treasure that wasn't moonshine? The moment I had read Aunt Jane's
letter telling of the perfectly absurd business she was setting out
on I rushed down by the first boat. Of course I meant to take her
back with me, to put a stop to all this madness; but I was too
late--and you're glad of it, I dare say!"
"I can't help being glad, you know," he replied, the color rising
to his ingenuous cheeks. "It's so frightfully jolly having you
along. Only I'm sorry you came against your will. Rather fancy
you had it in your head that we were a band of cutthroats, eh?
Well, the fact is I don't know much about the two chaps Miss Browne
picked up, though I suspect they are a very decent sort. That odd
fish, Captain Magnus, now--he was quite Miss Browne's own find, I
assure you. And as to old H. H.--Tubbs, you know--Miss Browne met
up with him on the boat coming down. The rum old chap got on her
soft side somehow, and first thing she had appointed him secretary
and treasurer--as though we were a meeting of something. Shaw was
quite a bit upset about it. He and I were a week later in
arriving--came straight on from England with the supplies, while
Miss Browne fixed things up with the little black-and-tan country
that owns the island. I say, Miss Harding, you're bound to like
Shaw no end when you know him--he's such a wonderfully clever chap!"
I had no wish to blight his faith in the superlative Mr. Shaw, and
said nothing. This evidently pained him, and as we stood leaning
on the rail in the shadow of the deck-house, watching the blue
water slide by, he continued to sound the praises of his idol. It
seemed that as soon as Miss Browne had beguiled Aunt Jane into
financing her scheme--a feat equivalent to robbing an infant-class
scholar of his Sunday-school nickel--she had cast about for a
worthy leader for the forthcoming Harding-Browne expedition. All
the winds of fame were bearing abroad just then the name of a
certain young explorer who had lately added another continent or
two to the British Empire. Linked with his were other names, those
of his fellow adventurers, which shone only less brightly than that
of their chief. One Dugald Shaw had been among the great man's
most trusted lieutenants, but now, on the organizing of the second
expedition, he was left behind in London, only half recovered of a
wound received in the Antarctic. The hook of a block and tackle
had caught him, ripped his forehead open from cheek to temple, and
for a time threatened the sight of the eye. Slowly, under the care
of the London surgeons, he had recovered, and the eye was saved.
Meanwhile his old companions had taken again the path of glory, and
were far on their way back to the ice-fields of the South Pole.
Only Dugald Shaw was left behind.
"And so," the even voice flowed on, "when I ran on to him in London
he was feeling fearfully low, I do assure you. A chap of his sort
naturally hates to think he's on the shelf. I had known him since
I was a little 'un, when we used to go to Scotland for our
holidays, and he would be home from sea and staying with his cousin
at the manse. He'd make us boats and spin all sorts of yarns, and
we thought him a bigger man than the admiral of the fleet.
"Well, old Shaw was fancying there was nothing for it but to go
back to his place with the P. & O., which seemed a bit flat after
what he'd been having, and meant he would never get beyond being
the captain of a liner, and not that for a good many years to come,
when a cable came from this Miss Higglesby-Brown offering him
command of this expedition. As neither of us had ever heard of
Miss Higglesby-Browne, we were both a bit floored for a time. But
Shaw smoked a pipe on it, and then he said, 'Old chap, if they'll
give me my figure, I'm their man.' And I said, 'Quite so, old
chap, and I'll go along, too.'
"I had to argue quite a bit, but in the end the dear old boy let me
come--after wiring the pater and what not. And I do assure you,
Miss Harding, it strikes me as no end of a lark--besides expecting
it to put old Shaw on his feet and give us hatfuls of money all
round."
Well, it was a plausible story, and I had no doubt, so far as the
Honorable Cuthbert was concerned, an absolutely truthful one. The
beautiful youth was manifestly as guileless as a small boy playing
pirate with a wooden sword. But as to Mr. Shaw, who could tell
that it hadn't after all been a trumped-up affair between Miss
Browne and him--that his surprise at the message was not assumed to
throw dust in the eyes of his young and trusting friend? Are even
the most valiant adventurers invariably honest? Left behind by his
companions because of his injury, his chance of an enduring fame
cut off, with no prospects but those of an officer on an ocean
liner, might he not lend a ready ear to a scheme for plucking a fat
and willing pigeon? So great was my faith in Aunt Jane's
gullibility, so dark my distrust of Miss Browne, that all connected
with the enterprise lay under the cloud of my suspicion. The
Honorable Mr. Vane I had already so far exculpated as to wonder if
he were not in some way being victimized too; but Mr. Shaw, after
even a casual glimpse of him, one couldn't picture as a victim. I
felt that he must have gone into the enterprise with his eyes open
to its absurdity, and fully aware that the only gold to be won by
anybody must come out of the pocket of Aunt Jane.
As these reflections passed through my mind I looked up and saw the
subject of them approaching. He lifted his helmet, but met my eyes
unsmilingly, with a sort of sober scrutiny. He had the tanned skin
of a sailor, and brown hair cropped close and showing a trace of
gray. This and a certain dour grim look he had made me at first
consider him quite middle-aged, though I knew later that he was not
yet thirty-five. As to the grimness, perhaps, I unwillingly
conceded, part of it was due to the scar which seamed the right
temple to the eyebrow, in a straight livid line. But it was a grim
face anyway, strong-jawed, with piercing steel-blue eyes.
He was welcomed by Mr. Vane with a joyous thump on the
shoulder-blade. "I say, old man, Miss Harding has turned out to be
the most fearful doubting Thomas--thinks the whole scheme quite mad
and all that sort of thing. I'm far too great a duffer to convert
her, but perhaps you might, don't you know?"
Mr. Shaw looked at me steadily. His eyes were the kind that seem
to see all and reveal nothing. I felt a hot spark of defiance
rising in my own.
"And indeed it is too bad," he said coolly, "that the trip should
not be more to Miss Harding's liking." The rough edges of his
Scotch burr had been smoothed down by much wandering, but you knew
at once on which side of the Solway he had seen the light.
"It is not a question of my liking," I retorted, trying to preserve
an unmoved and lofty demeanor, though my heart was beating rather
quickly at finding myself actually crossing swords with the
redoubtable adventurer, this man who had often faced death, I could
not refuse to believe, as steadily as he was facing me now.
"It is not at all a question of my liking or not liking the trip,
but of the trip itself being--quite the wildest thing ever heard of
out of a story-book." Harsher terms had sprung first to my lips,
but had somehow failed to get beyond them.
"Ah--yet the world would be the poorer if certain wild trips had
not been taken. I seem to remember one Christopher Columbus, for
instance."
By a vivid lightning-flash of wrath I felt that this adventurer was
laughing at me a little under his sober exterior--even stirring me
up as one does an angry kitten.
"Yes," I flared out, "but Columbus did not inveigle a confiding old
lady to go along with him!" Of course Aunt Jane is not, properly
speaking, an old lady, but it was much more effective to pose her
as one for the moment.
It was certainly effective, to judge by the sudden firm setting of
his mouth.
"Lad," he said quietly, "lend a hand below, will you? They are
overhauling some of our stuff 'tween decks."
He waited until the Honorable Cuthbert, looking rather dazed, had
retired. We stood facing each other, my breath coming rather
hurriedly. There was a kind of still force about this mastered
anger of the dour Scot, like the brooding of black clouds that at
any moment may send forth their devastating fire. Yet I myself was
not endowed with red hair for nothing.
"Miss Harding," he said slowly, "that was a bitter word you said."
My head went up.
"Bitter, perhaps," I flung back, "but is it not true? It is for you
to answer."
"No, it is not for me to answer, because it is not for you to ask.
But since you talk of inveigling, let me give the history of my
connection with the expedition. You will understand then that I
had nothing to do with organizing it, but was merely engaged to do
my best to carry it through to success."
"I have already heard a version of the matter from Mr. Vane."
"And you think he is in the conspiracy too?" "Certainly not," I
replied hastily. "I mean--of course, I know he told me exactly
what he believes himself."
"Yes, you would take the lad's word, of course." This with a slight
but significant emphasis of which he was perhaps unconscious.
"Then I suppose you consider that he was inveigled too?"
"I am not required to consider Mr. Vane's status at all," I replied
with dignity. "It is my aunt whom I wish to protect." And
suddenly to my dismay my voice grew husky. I had to turn my head
aside and blink hard at the sea. I seemed to be encountering
fearful and unexpected odds in my endeavor to rescue Aunt Jane.
He stood looking down at me--he was a big man, though of lesser
height than the superb Cuthbert--in a way I couldn't quite
understand. And what I don't understand always makes me
uncomfortable.
"Very well," he said after a pause. "Maybe your opportunity will
come. It would be a pity indeed if Miss Harding were to require no
protecting and a young lady here with such a good will to it. But
if you will take the suggestion of a man of rather broader
experience than your own, you will wait until the occasion arises.
It is bad generalship, really, to waste your ammunition like this."
"I dare say I am not a master of strategy," I cried, furious at
myself for my moment of weakness and at him for the softening tone
which had crept into his voice. "I am merely--honest. And when I
see Aunt Jane hypnotized--by this Violet person--"
"And indeed I have seen no reason to think that Miss
Higglesby-Browne is not a most excellent lady," interrupted Mr.
Shaw stiffly. "And let me say this, Miss Harding: here we are all
together, whether we wish to be or no, and for six weeks or more on
the island we shall see no faces but our own. Are we to be divided
from the beginning by quarrels? Are maybe even the men of us to be
set by the ears through the bickering of women?"
Like the nick of a whip came the certainty that he was thinking of
the Honorable Cuthbert, and that I was the rock on which their
David-and-Jonathan friendship might split. Otherwise I suppose
Miss Higglesby-Browne and I might have clawed each other forever
without interference from him.
"Really," I said with--I hope--well-simulated scorn, "since I am
quite alone against half a dozen of you, I should think you could
count on putting down any rebellion on my part very easily. I
repeat, I had no other object in coming along--though I was really
_kidnaped_ along--than to look after my aunt. The affairs of the
party otherwise--or its personnel---do not interest me at all. As
to the treasure, of course I know perfectly well that there isn't
any."
And I turned my back and looked steadily out to sea. After a
moment or two I heard him turn on his heel and go away. It was
none too soon, for I had already begun to feel unostentatiously for
my handkerchief. Any way, I had had the last word--
The rest of my day was lonely, for the beautiful youth, probably by
malevolent design, was kept busy between decks. Mr. Tubbs danced
attendance on Aunt Jane and Miss Browne, so assiduously that I
already began to see some of my worst fears realized. There was
nothing for me to do but to retire to my berth and peruse a
tattered copy of _Huckleberry Finn_ which I found in the cabin.
At dinner, having the Honorable Cuthbert at my elbow, it was easier
than not to ignore every one else. The small keen eyes of Mr.
Tubbs, under his lofty and polished dome of thought, watched us
knowingly. You saw that he was getting ready to assume a
bless-you-my-children attitude and even to take credit somehow as
match-maker. He related anecdotes, in which, as an emissary of
Cupid, he played a benevolent and leading role. One detected, too,
a grin, ugly and unmirthful, on the unprepossessing countenance of
Captain Magnus. I was indifferent. The man my gaiety was intended
for sat at the far end of the table. I had to wipe out the memory
of my wet eyes that afternoon.
Directly dinner was at an end, remorselessly he led the Honorable
Cuthbert away. I retired to Huckleberry Finn. But a face with a
scar running to the eyebrow looked up at me from the pages, and I
held colloquies with it in which I said all the brilliant and
cutting things which had occurred to me too late.