STARTLING NEWS
The home-coming of Captain Bijonah Tanner and his wife did not provide
the thrill looked for by the more morbid inhabitants of Freekirk Head.
In the excitement of the fire all hands had forgotten that cable
communication between Mignon and the mainland was unbroken.
The operator, in the pursuance of his duty, had sent word of the fire
to Eastport, and then concocted some cable despatches for Boston and
Portland papers that left nothing to be desired from the viewpoint of
sensationalism. In his zeal for filling space and eking out his
slender income, the operator left nothing standing on Grande Mignon
except the eternal rocks and the lighthouse.
It was such an account that Bijonah Tanner fed upon that morning in
the tiny cabin of the _Rosan_, and half an hour after he had read it
he was under way. Special mention had been made of Code Schofield's
rescue of little Bige, with a sentence added that the Tanner place had
been wiped out.
With their minds filled with desperate scenes of cataclysm and ruin,
the Tanners raced the complaining _Rosan_ around Flag Point six hours
later, only to fall upon one another and dance for joy at the sight of
the village nestling as of yore against the green mountains and
gleaming white in the descending sun.
An acrid smell and a smudge of smoke told of what had really been, and
a black heap of ruins where the familiar house had stood for so long
confirmed their fears for their own property; but to see the village
content and smiling, except for a poor building or two, was joy enough
to overbalance the personal loss.
So those who expected a tearful and emotional home-coming were
disappointed.
Code met the dory that rowed ashore after Bijonah had made fast to his
mooring in the little cove that was the roadstead for the fishing
fleet. He had half expected to share the duty with Nat Burns since the
recent change in his relations to the Tanners, but Burns did not put
in an appearance, although it was three o'clock in the afternoon.
Bijonah shook hands with him, and Ma Tanner kissed him, the latter
ceremony being a baptism of happy tears that all were safe and alive.
Bijonah cleared his voice and pulled hard at his beard.
"Understand you're quite a hero, Code," he ventured bluffly, careful
to conceal any emotion, but resolved to give the occasion its due.
"Oh, rot, captain!" said Code equally bluffly, and the ceremony was
over.
But not so with Ma Tanner. She wept and laughed over the preserver of
her offspring, and called him so many exalting names that he was glad
to turn her over to Nellie and his mother at the Schofield gate.
Hot and flushed with the notoriety she had given him along the main
road, he retired to the corner shop and drank wonderful cold
ginger-beer out of a white stone jug until his temperature had
returned to normal.
But later he returned to the house, and found the Tanners about to
depart. The widow Sprague, near the Odd Fellows' Hall, who lived, as
she expressed it, "all deserted and alone," had agreed to take the
family into her rambling cottage. Luke Fraser had brought his
truck-cart up alongside the rescued Tanner belongings, and they were
already half loaded.
"Can you come down to the widdy's to-night, Code?" asked Bijonah. "I've
got somethin' to tell ye that ought to int'rest ye consid'able."
"Yes, I'll be there about eight," was the reply as Schofield joined in
loading the truck.
He found the captain that night smoking a pipe on the low front porch
of the Widow Sprague's cottage, evidently very much at home. Bijonah
motioned him to a chair and proffered a cigar with a slightly
self-conscious air. Inside the house, Code could hear the sound of
people moving about and the voice of a woman singing low, as though to
a child. He told himself without question that this was Nellie getting
the kiddies to sleep.
"A feller hears queer things over in St. John's sometimes," announced
Bijonah suddenly, sucking at his pipe.
"Yes."
"An' this time I heard somethin' about you."
"Me? I don't know three people in St. John's."
"Guess I met one of the three, then."
"Where? How? Who was it?"
Bijonah Tanner coughed and shifted uneasily in his chair.
"Wal," he said, "I was takin' a little turn along the water-front,
just a _leetle_ turn, as the wife will tell you, when I dropped into
a--er--that is--a rum-shop and heard three men at the table next to
mine talking about you."
Schofield smiled broadly in the darkness. Bijonah's little turns along
the water-front of St. John's or any other port had been the subject
for much prayer and supplication in the hearts of many devout persons
thoroughly interested in their neighbor's welfare. And of late years
Ma Tanner had been making trips with him to supply stimulus to his
conscience.
"What were they talking about?" So far from being suspicious, Code was
merely idly curious of the gossip about him.
"My boy," said Tanner, suddenly grave, "I was the best friend your
father had for forty years, and I'm goin' to try and be as good a
friend to his son. But you mustn't mind what I tell ye."
"I won't, captain. Go ahead," said Code, his interest awakening.
"Wal, them men was talkin' about the loss of the old _May Schofield_,
and one of 'em in particular allowed as how he didn't think it should
have foundered when it did. What d'ye think of that?"
Schofield had stiffened in his chair as though undergoing a spasm of
pain. The sentences smote him between the eyes of his sensibilities.
Had it come to this, that his name was being bandied dishonorably
about the barrooms of St. John's? If so, how and why?
"Then I suppose you've heard the talk in Grande Mignon before this?"
"Yes, Code, I have; and I've called every man a liar that said
anything definite against you. I'm gettin' old, but there ain't very
many men here able enough to shove that name back down my throat, an'
I notice none of 'em tried. It's all idle talk, that's all; an' there
ain't a soul that can prove a single thing against you, even
cowardice. An' that's more'n can be said o' some men in this
village."
Code was grateful, and he said so. It was something to find a friend
so stanch and loyal that suspicion had never even found soil in his
mind where it might take root. Two such he had now: Elsa Mallaby and
Bijonah Tanner.
"What else did those men say?" he asked in conclusion.
"If I remember right, an' I was perfectly clear at the time, this is
what one said: 'Fellers,' sez 'e to the other two, 'e sez--'fellers,
that young Captain Schofield in Freekirk Head is goin' on the rocks,
or I don't hear what's goin' on in my office.'
"'Then they're goin' to sue him to recover part of his insurance on
the old schooner _May Schofield_?' asks the second.
"'If I didn't hear the chief say that this mornin' you can shoot me on
sight!' the first answers. An' then for a while I couldn't hear any
more, an' you can bet I was watchin' the door somethin' awful for fear
ma would come in an' spoil it all by draggin' me off."
"But who were these men?" asked Code. "Whom did they mean by the
chief?"
"I was just gettin' to that. After a while, from a little bit here an'
a little there, I made out that the first young feller was private
secretary to the president of the Marine Insurance Company. That's
the firm that carried the old _May_, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. They've got my _Rosan_, too, though I wish mightily now
that they hadn't. This feller is the private secretary to the
president, an' the other two are clerks or something in the office.
They may have been up to something crooked, and then again they may
have just been talkin' things over as young fellers often do when
they're interested in their work. Anyway, there's enough in what they
said to set you thinkin', I cal'late."
"Yes," said Code slowly and grimly, "it is. I've only known that the
island was talking since last night, and now I find St. John's is,
too. It's spreading pretty fast, it seems; and I wonder where it will
end?" He pondered silently for a while.
"If they sue to recover, what'll you do?" ventured Tanner hesitatingly.
"God knows!" answered Schofield and laughed bitterly. "I haven't got a
thing on earth but the _Charming Lass_, an' this year I haven't caught
enough fish to pay for my new mains'l. My credit is still good at Bill
Boughton's, but that's all."
"But the cottage--"
"That is my mother's, and they could never get that. If they sue and I
lose they must take the _Lass_, and after they've subtracted the
judgment from the sale price I suppose I'll get the rest--maybe
enough to buy a second-hand sloop."
"Yes, but that isn't the worst part of it, Code. As soon as they bring
suit they will attach the schooner, so that even if the trial doesn't
come up for weeks you still can't use her, and will have to sit around
idle or go hand-lining in your dory. And you know what that means with
winter comin' on."
"I know." He had seen hard winters that had tried the resources of the
village to the utmost, but he had never faced one that promised to be
like the next.
"Well, what would you advise me to do, captain?"
"Get out!" snapped Tanner. "Get a crew and take the _Lass_ to sea.
There's one thing sure, a lawyer can't serve you with a summons or
anything else if he has to look for you on the Atlantic Ocean."
Schofield smiled. The remedy called for was heroic, truly; but was it
honorable?
"I wonder if they can do that, anyway?" he asked. "After the _May_ was
lost the insurance people settled without a complaint. Can they rake
up that matter again now?"
"By Jove! That reminds me. Them fellers discussed that very thing; an'
the secretary said that if the law had been broke at the time of the
sinkin'--I mean, if the schooner wasn't fit or had been tampered
with--that it was within the law. But, o' course, somebody's got to
make the complaint."
"That's just it," cried Code, springing up and throwing away the stump
of his cigar; "somebody has got to make the complaint! Well, now, from
what I can see, somebody's made it. All this talk could not have gone
on in the island unless it started from somewhere. And the question
is, where?"
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. In the darkness the
figure of a man appeared approaching the house. A moment later the
newcomer stepped on the low veranda, and both men recognized him.
It was Nat Burns.
"Is Nellie here?" he asked without the formality of the usual
greetings.
"I cal'late she is, Nat," replied Tanner, rising to his feet. "Wait a
minute an' I'll call her."
But he had not reached the door before the girl herself stepped out on
the porch. She ran out eagerly, but stopped short when she saw Code in
the darkness. Their meeting was obviously reserved.
In the interim Tanner walked to where Schofield stood, silent.
"I cal'late I can give you a pretty good idea where all this trouble
started from," he growled in a low tone; but before he could go on
Nellie interrupted him.
"Father," she said, coming forward with Nat, "I want to tell you
something that we've all been too busy to discuss before this. Nat and
I are engaged. He gave me the ring night before last when you were in
St. John's. I hope you are pleased, father."
Bijonah Tanner remained silent for a moment, plainly embarrassed by
the duty before him. Between most men who follow the sea and their
daughters there is much less intimacy than with those who are in other
walks of life. Long absences and the feeling that a mother is
responsible for her girls are reasons for this; while in the case of
boys, who begin to putter round the parental schooner from their
earliest youth, a much closer feeling exists. Tanner could not bridge
the chasm between himself and his daughter.
"Did you tell your mother?" he asked finally.
"Yes."
"And was she satisfied?"
"Yes, indeed; she was very happy about it, and told me to come right
down and tell you."
"Wal, if it suits her it suits me," was the dry conclusion. "I hope
you'll be happy. You've got a fine gal there, Nat."
"I know I have, captain," said Burns warmly; "and I'll try to make her
happy."
"All right," grunted Bijonah, and sank back into his chair. Between
praising one man who saved his youngest boy, and congratulating
another who was to marry his eldest girl, Captain Tanner's day had
been over full of ceremonial.
Face to face with the inevitable, Code Schofield offered sincere but
embarrassed congratulations; and he was secretly glad that, when
opportunity offered for him to shake Nat Burns's hand, that young
gentleman was busy lighting a cigarette.
The lovers went inside, and Code stood dejectedly, leaning against the
railing. Tanner removed his pipe and spat over the railing.
"It's too blamed bad!" he muttered.
"What?" asked Code, almost unconsciously.
"It's too bad, I say. I used to think that mebbe Nellie would like
you, Code. I've counted on it consid'able all my life. But it's too
late now. Young Burns'll have to be one of the family from now on."
"Thanks, captain," said Schofield with forced cheerfulness. "I had
hoped so, too. But that's all past now. By the way, who was it you
thought started all this trouble? I'd like to know that."
"One of the family," muttered Tanner, his thoughts still busy. Then,
recollecting Schofield's question, he appeared about to speak,
hesitated, and at last said:
"Bless my soul and body if I know! No, I wouldn't want to say what I
thought, Code. I never was one to run down any man behind his back!"
Code looked in amazement at the old man, but not for long. A moment's
thought concerning Tanner's recently acquired relation made his
suspicion doubly sure that Nat Burns's name had been on Bijonah's
tongue.
He immediately dropped the subject and after a little while took his
departure.