A STAGGERING BLOW
"Here is something my father just asked me to give you."
Nellie held out to Code the packet that she had discovered in the
skipper's drawer several days before. Code, seated on the roof of the
cabin in the only loose chair aboard the _Rosan_, and wrapped in
blankets, took the sealed bundle curiously.
He looked at the round, feminine handwriting across the envelope, and
failed to evince any flash of guilt or intelligence.
It was three days after Code's rescue by the _Rosan_ and the first
that he had felt any of his old strength coming back to him.
For the first twenty-four hours after being revived he did nothing but
sleep, and awoke to find Nellie Tanner beside his bunk nursing him.
Since then it had been merely a matter of patience until his exhausted
body had recuperated from the shock.
For once Nellie had command of the _Rosan_, and everything stood aside
for her patient. The delicacies that issued from the galley after she
had occupied it an hour, and that went directly to Code, almost had
the result of inciting a mutiny among all hands; terms of settlement
being the retirement of the old cook and installation of this new
find.
Code ripped open the packet. He stared in amazement at the yellow
bills. Then he discovered the letter and began to read it. Despite the
healthy red of his weather-beaten face, a tide of color surged up over
it.
Nellie turned her head away and looked over the oily gray sea to where
the men of the _Rosan_ were toiling in their dories. In the distance
there was a sail here and there, for the _Rosan_ was slowly
overhauling the fleet from Freekirk Head.
Code stole a swift glance at her, and forgot to read his letter as he
studied the fresh roundness and beauty of her face. He vaguely felt
that there was a reserved manner between them.
"The letter is from Mrs. Mallaby," he said.
"Yes? That is interesting."
The girl's cool, level eyes met his, and he blushed again.
"She has a good heart," he stumbled on, "and always thinks of
others."
"Yes, she has," agreed the girl without enthusiasm, and Code dropped
the subject.
"How did your father happen to have this for me?" he asked, after a
pause.
"Well, you know, you surprised everybody by leaving the Head before
the rest of the fleet. Elsa had it in mind to give you this packet,
she _says_, before you left. But when you went so suddenly she asked
father to give it to you. She said she expected the _Rosan_ would
catch the _Lass_ on the Banks. At least, this is the yarn dad told
me."
"She seems to know considerable about the Banks and the ways of
fishermen," he said, with an unconscious ring of enthusiasm in his
tone.
"Yes; you'd think she pulled her own dory instead of being the richest
woman in New Brunswick."
Code looked at his old sweetheart in amazement. He had never seen her
so disagreeable. His eye fell upon her left hand.
For a moment his mind did not register an impression. Then all of a
sudden it flashed upon him that her ring was gone.
"Oh, _that_ explains everything!" he said to himself. "She has either
lost it or quarreled with Nat, and it's no wonder she is unhappy."
Nellie was saying to herself: "The letter must have been very personal
or he would have told me about it. He never acted like this before.
There _is_ something between them."
Suddenly astern of them sounded the flap of sails, rattle of blocks,
and shouted orders. They turned in time to see a schooner come up
into the wind all standing.
She was clothed in canvas from head to foot, with a balloon-jib and
staysail added, and made her position less than a hundred yards away.
Schofield gazed at the schooner curiously. Then he leaned forward, his
eyes alight. There were certain points about her that were familiar.
With a fisherman's skill he had catalogued her every point. He looked
at the trail-board along her bows, and where the name should have been
there was a blank, painted-out space.
It was the mystery schooner!
Once more all the fears that had assailed Code's mind at her first
appearance returned. He was certain that there was mischief in this.
But he sat quiet as the vessel drifted down upon the anchored
_Rosan_.
As he looked her over his eyes were drawn aloft to a series of wires
strung between her topmasts. Other wires ran down the foremast to a
little cubby just aft of it.
"By the great squid, they've got wireless!" he said. "This beats me!"
At fifty yards the familiar man with the enormous megaphone made his
appearance.
"Ahoy there!" he roared. "Any one aboard the _Rosan_ seen or heard
anything of Captain Code Schofield, of the Grande Mignon schooner
_Charming Lass?_"
Code rose out of his chair, took off his hat ironically, and swung it
before him as he made a low bow.
"At your service!" he shouted. "I was picked up three days ago, adrift
in my dory. What do you want with me?"
This sudden avowal created a half panic aboard the mysterious
schooner, and the man astern exchanged his megaphone for field-glasses.
After a long scrutiny he went back to the megaphone.
"Congratulations, captain!" came the bellow. "When are you going to
rejoin the _Lass?_"
"As soon the _Rosan_ catches her," replied Code, and then, exasperated
by the unexpected maneuvers of this remarkable vessel, he cried: "Who
are you and what do you want that you chase me all over the sea?"
Instantly the man put down the megaphone and gave orders to the crew,
and in five minutes she was on her way north into the very heart of
the fleet.
"I don't know who she is or why she is or who is aboard her," he told
Nellie, after recounting to her the previous visitation of the
schooner. "She reminds me of a nervous old hen keeping track of a
stray chick. Pretty soon I won't be able to curse the weather without
being afraid my guardian will hear me. I say guardian, and yet I
don't know whether she is friendly or merely fixing up some calamity
to break all at once. You know I have enemies. She may be working for
them."
The girl could offer no solution, nor could Bijonah Tanner, who had
witnessed the incident from the forecastle head where he was smoking
and anticipating the wishes of the cod beneath him. He had walked aft,
and the three discussed the mystery.
"Ever see her before, captain?" asked Code.
If there was any man who knew schooners that had fished the Banks or
the Bay of Fundy, it was Bijonah Tanner.
"Don't cal'late I ever did. I've never saw _jest_ that set to a
foregaff nor _jest_ that cut of a jumbo-jib afore."
Tanner watched the schooner as she scudded away.
"Mighty big hurry, I allow," he remarked. "But, Jiminy, doesn't she
sail! There ain't hardly an air o' wind stirrin' and yet look at her
go! She's a mighty-able vessel."
It was about four o'clock the next afternoon that the _Rosan_ crept up
in the middle of the fishing fleet. She had made a long berth
overnight, dressed an excellent morning's catch, and knocked off half
a day because Bijonah did not feel it right to keep Code longer away
from his vessel.
And Tanner managed the thing with a good eye to the dramatic. When he
reached the rear guard of the fleet he began to work his vessel
gracefully in and out among the sloops and schooners.
Code, seated in his chair on the cabin roof, did not realize what was
going on until the triumphal procession was well under way.
Through the fleet they went--a fleet that was wearing crape for
him--and from every vessel received a volley of cheers.
The _Charming Lass_ greeted him with open arms. Pete Ellinwood swung
him up from the transferring dory with a great bellow of delight, and
he was passed along the line until, battered, joyous, and radiant, he
arrived exhausted by the wheel, where he sat down.
When they all had drunk to the reunion from a rare old bottle, heavily
cobwebbed, Code told his story. Then, while the men dressed down, he
walked about, looking things over and counting the crew on his
fingers.
"Pete!" he called suddenly, and the mate left the fish-pen.
"Where's Arry Duncan?"
"Wal, skipper, I didn't want to tell you fer fear you had enough on
yer mind already, but Arry never come back the same day you was
lost."
"My God! Another one! I wondered how many would get caught that day!"
"An' that ain't all. He had your motor-dory with him--the one you
caught us with out of Castalia."
"How did he have that? I gave orders the motor-dories weren't to be
used."
"Wal, cookee an' the boy--they was the only ones aboard--tell it this
way: Arry he struck a heavy school fust time he lets his dory rodin'
go, an' most of his fish topped forty pound. In an hour his dory was
full, and it was a three-mile pull back.
"When he got in he argued them others into givin' him the motor-dory,
'cause it holds so much more. They helped him swing it over, an'
that's the last they see of him."
"But, if he had an engine, you'd think he could've made it back here
or run foul of somebody or somethin'."
"Yas, you would think so; but he didn't, the more peace to him," was
Ellinwood's reply.
"The poor feller!" said Code. "I'm sorry for his wife. Anything else
happen while I was gone, Pete?"
"Now, let me think!" The mate scratched his head. "Oh, yes! Curse me,
I nearly forgot it! You know that quair schooner that chased us down
one day an' asked the fool questions about you?"
"Yes. I saw that same schooner again yesterday. She asked more fool
questions."
"You did!" cried Ellinwood in amazement. "I didn't see her, but I
heard her, an' I got a message from her for you. It was night when
they come up on us an' hailed.
"They said they had news of you, an' would we send a dory over. Would
we? They was about six over in as many minutes. But they wouldn't let
us aboard. No, sir; kept us off with poles an' asked for me.
"When I got in clost they told me the _Rosan_ had found you, and
handed me an envelope with a message inside of it. Just as I was goin'
away there came the most awful clickin' an' flashin' amidships I ever
saw--"
"Wireless," said Code.
"Wal, I've heard of it, but I never see it before; an' I come away as
quick as I could."
"And the message?" asked Code curiously.
Pete laboriously unpinned a waistcoat-pocket and produced an envelope
which he handed to Code. It was sealed, and the skipper tore away the
end. The mystery and interest of the thing played upon his mind until
he was in a tremble of nervous excitement.
At last he would know what the schooner was and why.
Eagerly he opened the message. It was typewritten on absolutely plain
paper and unsigned, further baffling his curiosity. After a moment he
read:
"CAPTAIN SCHOFIELD:
"Yesterday at St. Andrew's suit was filed against you for murder
in the first degree upon the person of Michael Burns, late of
Freekirk Head, Grande Mignon Island. Plaintiff, Nathaniel Burns,
son of the deceased. There is an order out for your arrest. This
is a friendly warning and no more. You are now fore-armed!"