IN WHICH WE SAIL FOR THE SPANISH MAIN
When, in the morning, I passed from my quarters toward the main room
which served me both as living-room and dining hall, I found that my
pirate guests were also early risers. I could hear them arguing over
some matter, which proved to be no more serious than the question of a
cold bath of mornings, Jimmy maintaining that everybody had a cold
bath every morning, whereas John insisted with equal heat that nobody
ever bathed ("washed," I think he called it), oftener than once a
week, to wit, on Saturdays only. They engaged in a pillow fight to
settle it, and as Jimmy had John fairly well smothered by his rapid
fire, I voted that the ayes appeared to have it when they referred the
point to me.
As we are very remote and never visited in my wilderness home, it is
not infrequent that I take my morning meal very much indeed in mufti,
although Hiroshimi is always most exact himself. On this morning it
occurred to us all that pajamas made a garb more piratical and more
nautical than anything else obtainable, so we took breakfast--and I
think Hiroshimi never served me a breakfast more delicate and
tempting--clad as perhaps the Romans were, if they had pajamas in
those times. All went well until the keen eyes of Jimmy, wandering
about my place, noted a certain photograph which rested on the top of
my piano--where I was much comforted always to have it, especially of
an evening, when sometimes I played Mendelssohn's _Spring Song_, or
other music of the like. It was the picture of the woman who did not
know and very likely did not care where, or how, I lived--Helena
Emory, to my mind one of the most beautiful women of her day; and I
have seen the world's portraits of the world's beauties of all
recorded days in beauty. Toward this Jimmy ran excitedly--I, with
equal speed, endeavoring to divert him from his purpose.
"But it's my Auntie Helen!" he protested, when I recovered it and
placed it in my pocket.
"It is your Auntie fiddlesticks, Jimmy," said I hastily, hoping my
color was not heightened. "It is your grandmother! Finish your
breakfast."
"I guess I ought to know--" he began.
"What!" I rejoined. "Wouldst pit your wisdom against one who has the
second sight; have a care, shipmate."
"It was!" he reiterated. "I know ain't anybody pretty as she is, so it
was."
"Jimmy L'Olonnois," said I, "let us reason about this. I----"
"Lemme see it, then. I can tell in a minute. Why don't you lemme see
it, then?" He was eager.
"Shipmate," I replied to him, "the hand is sometimes quicker than the
eye, and the mind slower than the heart. For that reason I can not
agree to your request."
"But what'd _he_ be doing with Miss Emory's picture, Jimmy?" argued
Lafitte.
"That's what I'd like to know," I added. "It may be that, in your
haste, you have confused in your mind, Jimmy, some portrait with that
of the Princess Amelie Louise, of Furstenburg." (I had indeed
sometimes commented on the likeness of Helena Emory to that
light-hearted old-world beauty.) Jimmy did not know that a photograph
of the princess herself, also, stood upon the piano top, nor did he
fully grasp the truth of that old saying that the hand is quicker than
the eye. At least, he gazed somewhat confused at the portrait which I
now produced before his eyes.
"Who was she?" he inquired.
"A very charming young lady of rank, who eloped with a young man not
of rank. In short, although she did not marry a chauffeur, she did
marry an automobile agent. And surely, Jimmy, your Auntie
Helen--whoever she may be--would do no such thing as that and still
claim to be a cousin of a L'Olonnois?"
"I don't know. You can't always tell what a girl's going to do," said
Jimmy sagely. "But I don't think Auntie Helen's going to marry a auto
man."
"Why, Jimmy?" (I found pleasure and dread alike in this conversation.)
"Because everybody says she's going to get married to Mr. Davidson,
and he's a commission man."
Now, I am sure, my face did not flush. It may have paled. I tried to
be composed. I reached for the melon dish and remarked, "Yes? And who
is he? And really, who is your Auntie Helena, Jimmy, and what does she
look like?" I spoke with a fine air of carelessness.
"She looks like the princess, you said," replied Jimmy. "And Mr.
Davidson's rich. He's got a house on our lake, this summer, and he
lives in New York and has offices in Chicago, and travels a good deal.
He has some sort of factory, too, and he's awful rich. I like him
pretty well. He knows how all the ball clubs stand, both leagues,
every day in the year. You ought to know him, because then you might
get to know my Auntie Helena. If they got married, like as not, I
could take you up to their house. I thought everybody knew Mr.
Davidson, and my Auntie Helena, too."
Everybody did. Why should I not know Cal Davidson, one of the
decentest chaps in the world? Why not, since we belonged to half a
dozen of the same clubs in New York and other cities? Why not, since
this very summer I had put my private yacht (named oddly enough, the
_Belle Helene_) in commission for the first season in three years, and
chartered her for the summer around Mackinaw, and a cruise down the
Mississippi to the Gulf that fall? Why not, since I had still unbanked
the handsome check Davidson had insisted on my taking as charter money
for the last quarter?
Davidson! Of all men I had counted him my friend. And now here was he,
reputed to be about to marry the girl who, as he knew, must have
known, ought to have known, was all the world to me! Even if she would
have none of me, and even though I had no shadow of claim on her--even
though we had parted not once but a dozen times, and at last in a
final parting--Davidson ought to have known, must have known! And my
own yacht! Why, no man may know what may go forward in a yachting
party. And, if perchance that fall he could persuade to accompany him
Helena and her chaperon (I made no doubt that would be her Aunt
Lucinda; for Helena's mother died when she was a child, and she was
somewhat alone, although in rather comfortable circumstances) what
could not so clever a man as Davidson, I repeat, one with so much of a
way with women, accomplish in a journey so long as that, with no other
man as his rival? It would be just like Cal Davidson to go ashore at
St. Louis long enough to find a chaplain, and then go on ahead for a
honeymoon around the world--on my boat, with my.... No, she was not
mine ... but then....
All my life I have tried to be fair, even with my own interests at
stake. I tried now to be fair; and I failed! I could see but one side
to this case. Davidson must be found at once, must be halted in
mid-career.
It was about this time that Hiroshimi came in with the morning's mail
and telegrams, all of which at my place come in from the railway, ten
miles or so, by rural free delivery. I paid small attention to him,
most of my mail, these days, having to do with gasoline pumps or
patent hay rakes and lists from my gun and tackle dealers and such
like.
Hiroshimi coughed. "Supposing Honorable like to see these yellow wire
envelopings."
I glanced down and idly opened the telegram. It was from Cal Davidson
himself, and read:
"Name best price outright sale bill Helen to me answer
Chicago."
So then, the scoundrel actually was on his way down the lakes, headed
for the South, even thus early in the season! I knew, of course, that
Bill Helen meant _Belle Helene_. As though I would sell my boat to
him, of all men! It might almost as well have been a sale of Helena
herself outright, as this cursed telegram stated. I crumpled the sheet
in my hand.
"If Honorable contemplates some answering of mail this morning, it
will be one ow-wore till the miserable pony mail carry all man comes,"
ventured Hiroshimi.
"Nothing this morning, Hiro," I managed to choke out, "and, Hiro, make
ready my bag, the small one, for a journey."
"S-s-s-s!" hissed Hiroshimi, which was his way of saying, "Yes, sir,
very well, sir." Surprise he neither showed now nor at any time; and
since he never could tell at what hour I might conclude to start for
his country or Europe or Africa or some other land for a stay of weeks
or months, there was perhaps some warrant for his calm. He had less to
do when I was away; although I always suspected him of poaching my
trout with his infernal Japanese methods of angling.
At this moment L'Olonnois saw, through the open door, a red squirrel
which scampered up a tree. At once he forgot all about his Auntie
Helen and scampered off in pursuit, followed presently by Lafitte.
This gave me time to decide upon a plan.... At last, I lifted my head
again.... Why not, then?
When L'Olonnois returned from the chase of the squirrel, he was all
L'Olonnois and none Jimmy Henderson. The spell of his drama was upon
him once more.
"What ho, mate," he began, scowling most vilely at me, "the sun is
high in the heavens, yet we linger here. Let us up anchor, hoist the
top-gallant mast and set sail for the enemy."
Jimmy's nautical terms might have been open to criticism, but there
was no denying the bold and manly import of his speech. My own heart
jumped well enough with it now.
"'Tis well, shipmate," said I. "Come, get ready your togs and your
weapons, and let us away. As you say, the good ship tugs at her anchor
chains this morning."
I managed to better the wardrobe of both boys by certain ducks and
linens from my own store, albeit a world too large. Lafitte, none too
happy at being thus uncongenially clean, was delight itself when set
to selecting an armament from my collection. He chose three bright
and clean Japanese swords, special blades of the Samurai armorers,
forged long before Mutsuhito's grandfather was a boy--I had paid a
rare price for them in Japan. To these he added three basket-handled
cutlasses, which I had obtained in London, each almost old enough to
have belonged to the crew of Drake himself. A short-barreled magazine
pistol for each of us was his concession to the present unromantic
age. As for Jimmy, he insisted on a small bore rifle as well as a
shotgun. "We might see something," he remarked laconically.
Thus equipped, I persuaded my associates to lay aside most of their
somewhat archaic artillery. Neither had taken any thought of other
supplies. Hiroshimi, however, now appeared, bearing, in addition to my
hand luggage, two hampers, a roll of blankets and a silk tent in its
canvas wrapper.
"Honorable is embarked in those small-going boat that is made tied to
the bank?" inquired Hiroshimi. He had said nothing to me about my
guests, or asked how they came; but as I knew he would find out all
about it, anyhow, after his own fashion, I had not mentioned anything
to him, or told him what to do. I only nodded now, relying on his
efficiency. He now approached my young pirates, and rather against
their will, removed from them some of their burden of weapons,
slinging about himself bundles, baskets, bags and cutlery, until he
almost disappeared from view. He cast on me a reproachful gaze,
however, as he took from Lafitte's hand the bared blade of the old
Samurai sword, and noted the ancient inscription on blade and scabbard
as he sheathed it reverently.
"What does it say, Hiro?" I asked of him.
"Very old talk, Honorable," answered Hiroshimi. "It say, 'Oh,
Honorable Gentleman who carry me, I invite you to make high and noble
adventurings.'"
"Let me carry it, Hiro," said I; and I tucked it under my own arm.
"Good!" exclaimed L'Olonnois. "Then you are going with us? And did you
write the letters that you promised us?"
"I always keep my word."
"And it'll be all right back home about mother and the boat? I'll give
you my six dollars!"
"There is no need. I told you, if you would make me one of the crew of
the _Sea Rover_ and let me seek my fortune with you, I would gladly
pay all the reckoning of our journey."
"And how long will we be gone?"
"Till after your school begins, I fear."
"And how far are you going with us?"
"Spang! to the Spanish Main!" I answered.
So then we set forth down my woodland path.