IN WHICH WE FOLD OUR TENTS
By consent of the lighthouse keeper, we left the _Belle Helene_ moored
at the wharf in the channel, with Williams in charge, while Peterson
and I, towing the tender's sailing skiff, its piratical lateen sail
lowered, started back for our encampment in our long boat. It was only
a half mile or so alongshore around the head of the island, although
we had to keep out a bit to avoid going aground on the flats where the
_Belle Helene_ had come to grief--and had, moreover, to wade ashore
some fifty yards or so, now that the sea was calm, since the keel of
the motor-boat would not admit a closer approach in the shallows.
We found our party all assembled, John having but now issued his
luncheon call; and, such had proved the swift spell of this care-free
life, none expressed much delight at the announcement of my decision
to strike camp and move toward civilization. Helena only looked up
swiftly, but made no comment; and Mrs. Daniver, to my surprise, openly
rebelled at leaving these flesh-pots, where canvasback and terrapin
might be had by shaking the bushes, and where the supply of
ninety-three seemed, after all, not exhausted. Of course, my men had
nothing to say about it, but when it came to my partners and
associates, Lafitte and L'Olonnois, there was open mutiny.
"Why, now," protested L'Olonnois, his lip quivering, "O' _course_ we
don't want to go home. Ain't our desert island all right? Where you
goin' to find any better place 'n this, like to know? Besides"--and
here he drew me to one side--"they's a good reason for not goin' just
yet, Black Bart!"
"What, Jimmy?" I inquired.
"Well, _I_ know somethin'."
"And what is it?"
"Well, Jean Lafitte knows it, too."
"What is it then?"
"Well, it ain't happened yet, but it's goin' to--or anyhow maybe."
"You interest me! Is it a matter of importance?"
"--Say it was!"
"To whom?"
"Why, to you--an' besides, to my Auntie Helena. 'N' you can't pull off
things like that just anywheres. Jean Lafitte an' me, we frame up how
to handle yon heartless jade, the fair captive, 'n' here you butt in
'n' spoil the whole works. It ain't right."
I bethought me now of the conversation I had unwillingly
overheard--and my heart was grateful to these my friends--but the next
instant I remembered the note to Cal Davidson.
"I thank you, Jimmy, my friend," said I, "and I believe I know what
you mean, but it can't be done."
"What can't, an' why can't it?"
"Why, the--the frame-up that you have just mentioned. In short--but,
Jimmy, go on and roll up the blankets."
"But why can't it, and what do you know about it? Tell me," he
demanded with sudden inspiration, "is yon varlet a suitor, too, for
yon heartless jade?"
"I decline to answer, Jimmy. Don't let's get into too deep water. Go
on and get your bundles ready."
"You're a fine pirate, ain't you, Black Bart!" he broke out. "Do you
hold yerself fit to head a band o' bold an' desprit men, when you let
yerself be bluffed by yon varlet, an' him a thousand miles away? You
try _me_, just you gimme a desert island, or even a pirut ship, a
week, like the chance you got, an' beshrew me, but any heartless jade
would be mine!"
"Oh, maybe not, Jimmy."
"--Or else she'd walk the plank."
"There isn't any plank to walk here, Jimmy," said I, pointing to our
boat, which lay in the shoals far out. "I rather wish there were."
"You'll have to carry my Auntie Helen out on yore strong right arm,
Black Bart."
"I'll do nothing of the sort, Jimmy."
"Don't you like her no more? An' if you don't, what're we here for?"
I could foresee embarrassments in further conversation with Jimmy in
his present truculent mood, so sought out others less mutinous, and
gave orders for the striking of the camp and the embarkment of all in
the small boats. I left Peterson and Willy to take the ladies and most
of the duffel in the large boat, assigned John the dingey for his cook
boat, and decided to pole the light draft duck boat over the shallows
direct to the yacht, taking my two associates with me. It was
necessary, of course, to carry our fair passengers out to the long
boat, which was some distance out on the flat beach. Peterson and I
made a cradle for Mrs. Daniver, with our locked hands, and so got her
substantial weight aboard. Helena mutely waited, but seeing her so,
and unwilling myself to be so near to her any more, I motioned her to
step into the flat duck boat, dry shod, and so poled her out to the
long boat; but I did so in silence, nor did she look up or speak to
me.
Our new pilot sat in his own boat, and was towed back, after rendering
some assistance with the cargoes; so now, at last, I was ready to
leave a spot which, in any other circumstances, would have offered
much charm for a man fond of the out-of-doors. As for my young
friends, they were almost in tears as they sat, looking back longingly
at the great flights of all manner of wild fowl continuously streaming
in and out of the lagoon. At any other time, I would have been
unwilling as any to depart, but, now, the whole taste and flavor of
life had left me, and no interest remained in any of my old
occupations or enjoyments. All that remained was the action necessary
to deliver Helena and her aunt back to the usual scenes of their
lives, to make their losses as light as possible, to take my own
losses, and so close the books of my life.
"There they come!" said Jean Lafitte, pointing to a vast gaggle of
clamoring wild geese coming in from the bay. "Right over our point,
Jimmy! Gee! I wisht I was under them fellers right now. Pow! Pow!"
"Aw, shut up!" was Jimmy's reply. "We won't never get no chance like
this again. Why, looky here, we was reg'lar castaways on a real desert
island, an' we had a abandoned ship, an' we c'd 'a' lived chiefly by
huntin' an' fishin'; and we had evaded all pursuit an' run off with
the fair captive to a place o' hidin'--why, it's all just like in the
book. An' what do _we_ do? Why, we go home! Wouldn't it frost you? An'
what's worse, we let the heartless jade get away with it, too! Ain't
that so?"
"Yes, that's true, Jimmy," I replied.
"Well, I was talkin' to Jean Lafitte--but it's so. We started out all
right as pirates, but now we let a girl bluff us."
"What would you do, Jimmy, in a case like that?" I inquired.
"I would wring the wench's slender neck, beshrew me! She couldn't put
over none o' that coarse work on me. No, curses on her fair face!"
"That will do, Jimmy!" said I, and pushed on in silence, Jean Lafitte
very grave, and Jimmy snuffling, now, in his grief at leaving the
enchanted island. So, all much about the same time, we reached the
_Belle Helene_ and went aboard. The ladies went at once to their
cabin, and I saw neither again that day, although I sent down duck,
terrapin and ninety-three for their dinner that night.
In half an hour we were under way; and in an hour and a half, having
circumvented our long desert island, we were passing through the
cut-off which led us back into Cote Blanche, some fifty miles, I
presume, from what was to be our voyage's end. We still were in the
vast marsh country, an inaccessible region teeming with wild life. The
sky now was clear, the air once more warm, the breeze gentle, and all
the country roundabout us had a charm quite its own. A thousand side
channels led back into the fortresses of the great sea-marsh, to this
or that of the many lakes, lagoons and pond holes where the wild fowl
found their feeding beds. Here was this refuge, where they fled to
escape persecution, the spot most remote, secluded, secret,
inaccessible. Here nature conspired to balk pursuit. The wide shallows
made a bar now to the average sailing craft, and as for a motor-yacht
like ours, the presence of a local pilot, acquainted with all the
oyster reefs and shallows, all the channels and cut-offs, made us feel
more easy, for we knew we could no longer sail merely by compass and
chart. A great sense of remoteness from all the world came over me. I
scarce could realize that yonder, so lately left behind, roared the
mad tumult of the northern cities. This wide expanse was broken by no
structure dedicated to commerce, not even the quiet spire of some
rural church arose among the lesser edifices of any village--not even
the blue smoke of some farmhouse marked the dwelling-place of man. It
was the wilderness, fit only for the nomad, fit only for the man
resentful of restraint and custom, longing only for the freedom of
adventure and romance. The cycles of Cathay lay here in these gray
silences, the leaf of the lotus pulsed on this lazy sea. Ah! here,
here indeed were surcease and calm.
And all this I was leaving. I was going back now to the vast tumult of
the roaring towns, to the lip of mockery, the eye of insincerity, the
hand of hypocrisy, where none may trust a neighbor. And moreover, I
was going back without one look, face to face, into the eyes and the
heart of the woman I had loved, and who, by force of these
extraordinary circumstances had, for a miraculous moment, been thus
set down with me, her lover, in the very surroundings built of
Providence for secrecy and love! Yonder, speeding to her summons, no
doubt hastened, ready to meet her, the man whom she had preferred
above me. And like a beast of burden, driven in the service of these
two, I was plodding on, in the work of leaving paradise and
opportunity, and delivering safe into the hands of another man the
woman whom I loved far more than all else in all the world.