I JOIN THE SEA GULL
I can see the fellow still, as he sat there smiling, his teeth revealed
under his mustache, his eyes filled with cunning.
"You! why you chance to be the very sort of man I need. The devil
could not have sent me a better," he said, with some enthusiasm. "You
are an American soldier, the best-drilled men in the world for
irregular service. You can understand that the longer I can keep those
fellows down there fighting, the more I will sell. Good! that is part
of my business. And the better they are drilled, the longer they will
keep it up. That is what I want you for--to help make that mob of rags
into an army. By God! you can do it, and I am willing to pay the
price."
I got up, and walked across the cabin, apparently struggling with
temptation, arguing the matter over with myself. In very truth,
however, there was little choice. Either I must coincide with his
desire, or be thrust helplessly back into my old quarters, under guard.
There was no mercy, no weakness, behind the smile with which he watched
me. The man was a tiger who would kill me with as little remorse as he
would brush a mosquito from his cheek. If I yielded, if I exhibited a
willingness to fit into his plans, well and good. But if I decided
otherwise the jaws of the trap would close. I did not care so much for
myself--it would be a pleasure to defy him--but the memory of the girl
was vivid. What would happen to her, alone on this lawless ship,
surrounded by the gang of wolves with which it was manned? The thought
sickened me. Even already I had imagined a gleam of lust in the eyes
of the fellow when he glanced covertly at her, and distrusted him as I
would a snake. And he was owner and captain, his word on board the
supreme law, even unto death. There was nothing left me but to agree
to his proposition, and thus purchase freedom. Yet I must not appear
too eager.
"I perceive your point," I said at last, facing him. "But what is
there in it for me?"
"A good round sum," he replied. "More than you ever made before, I
warrant, not excepting the promises made you in this Henley will case.
We 'll talk the details over later."
"Who is responsible for my pay?"
"See here, Craig, the case stands like this. The revolutionists down
there asked me to find them a competent drill-master, and they will pay
royally. They 've got the money, too, scads of it. There will be no
trouble on that score. Besides, I need a reliable man ashore to look
after shipments. We have to land our goods in a hurry, you understand,
at night, without checking up. I can afford to hand you something
pretty nice on the side to assure myself a square deal. I had a fellow
picked out for the berth--a retired German officer---but he failed to
show up when we sailed. Now I have run across you I am damned glad he
did. You are more the style of man I want. Come, now, I don't believe
you can afford to turn this offer down."
"It looks good," I confessed, but still hesitating. "Only I shall have
to have it in writing, and more in detail."
"We'll talk that over in the morning; it's late now. Take the third
stateroom starboard: it's all ready for you."
"Then I am no longer to consider myself a prisoner onboard?"
"Certainly not. Practically you are one of us."
"And I have the freedom of the deck?"
He smiled grimly, gazing intently at me.
"That is safe enough, I reckon, even if I questioned your interest in
this adventure. There must be ten miles of water already between us
and the coast. There are no limits on your liberty, but I would n't
advise your going forward at present--not until the men understand the
situation--they 're a hard lot."
"Revolutionists?"
"Hell, no; plain New Orleans wharf rats, the scouring of the Seven
Seas."
"Who is first mate--the German?"
"Yes, Herman, a fine sailor; was with the Hamburg people until he had a
wreck. The Creole Broussard is second, and the two of them together
could tame a cargo of wild-cats. Is that all, Craig?"
"All at present."
"Good night then; think this over, and we 'll have another talk
tomorrow. The third starboard stateroom is yours."
I took his hand, feeling the sinewy grip of his lean, brown fingers,
and turned to the door, cursing myself under my breath for a weakling,
and yet utterly unable to perceive how I could choose otherwise. The
single lamp in the main cabin was turned low, only faintly illuminating
the interior. In the quiet I could feel the movement of the vessel,
and realized there was some sea on, although the engines were being
operated only at half speed. This seemed odd, if speed was desirable,
as I supposed it must be on a voyage of this nature. However that was
none of my affair, and, heaven knows, I had enough to consider in my
own situation. I was not in the least sleepy, and sank down in the
first chair to think, my eyes on the Captain's door. But I was not
disturbed. If this was my case exclusively I doubt if it would have
greatly worried me. Indeed, I might have rejoiced over the outlook,
welcoming the excitement, and rough experience promised in a new land.
I possessed the adventurous spirit, and the position offered had its
appeal. But the girl stood directly in the way. What Henley meant to
do with her was problematical--I had not thought to ask--but he either
intended putting her ashore in Honduras, or else holding her prisoner
on board until the _Sea Gull_ returned North. Either contingency was
bad enough, and the suspicion flashed suddenly across me that the final
decision would depend on how kindly she might receive the attentions of
the Captain. Nor did I question the result. I had not known the lady
long, but, in that brief time, our relations had been sufficiently
intimate to yield me a good insight into her womanly character. There
would be no yielding, no compromise. Neither threats nor promises
would change her attitude in the least. Not only did she know the
fellow to be a lying knave, but he was not of the sort to ever
influence her in the slightest degree. I could imagine how she would
look at him, with those searching eyes burning in indignation, and her
instant squelching of his first protestations. There would be no need
of my help to repel the insults of such a beast. But afterwards there
would, for I realized also what he would become after such a repulse--a
cold, sneering Nemesis, revengeful, ready to crush even a woman
remorselessly. And he possessed the power, the means to make that
revenge complete. I felt my teeth lock, my hands clinch in sudden
anger. Perhaps I could accomplish little in her defense, but I
intended to be free to do that little. Whatever fate might be in store
for us, that sneering, olive-hued devil should receive his deserts if
ever he attempted wrong to her. That had become the one purpose of my
heart, for I realized here skulked the real danger, the deeper peril of
our situation.
I may have remained there for a quarter of an hour, motionless,
thinking over every incident, and reviewing carefully, and in detail,
the various happenings which had led to our present condition. The
only result was to enlist me yet more strongly to her service.
Believing her statement I could see nothing in her conduct to
criticize, and she appealed to me in all womanhood. I would be a
dastard to doubt, or desert, her cause now, and the warm blood throbbed
in my veins responsive to the memory of what had already been between
us. No one disturbed me, the Captain was still in his stateroom,
where, once or twice, I imagined I heard him pacing the floor. The
steward had apparently retired for the night, although it was not late,
as a glance at my watch proved. My eyes traced the doors on either
side, ten altogether, each plainly numbered, and I opened the one
assigned to me, and glanced within. Except that it was more
commodious, and contained a washstand at one corner, it did not differ
greatly from the other forward where I had been held prisoner.
I wondered which of these others might be hers, and passed silently
from door to door, vaguely hoping for some sign of guidance. They were
all tightly closed, and I dare not try the locks, as I was certain one,
at least, of the under officers would be sleeping below. My round had
brought me to the second door on the port side when, in the dim light,
I perceived something lying at my feet, and stooped down to better
determine its character. It was the end of a very narrow light blue
ribbon, apparently caught beneath the door. Assured that she was the
only one of her sex aboard, I drew the strip forth, fondled it,
imagined I had seen it before, struggling with a desire to make myself
known. The door before which I hesitated was numbered "5." Whether by
accident, or design, she had left the one clew I most needed. Indeed,
at the moment, I believed the ribbon had been purposely dropped. That
last meeting of our eyes had reassured her of my loyalty; with the
quick intuition of a woman she had comprehended the truth, and this
ribbon, apparently carelessly dropped, was for my guidance. I thrust
it into my pocket, but the soft touch of the silk seemed to bring back
to me a sense of caution. I knew the door was locked, and assured
myself there was no space beneath. If I was to communicate with her,
other means must be employed. What? This was the second stateroom on
the port side. Judging from my own, the width of each room would be
about six feet. There ought to be no difficulty in locating her
porthole from the deck above, nor in attracting her attention.
The one thing I desired now was to reëstablish myself fully in her
confidence, assure her I was at liberty on board, able and willing to
be of service. This necessity overshadowed all else. If I could
discover means of communication we could plan hopefully, assured of
cooperation. And this seemed possible, the way to its accomplishment
open. Shadowed from observation by the thick butt of the after-mast, I
wrote a few lines hastily on the back of an envelope, thrust it into my
pocket, and ventured up the companion stairs. Reaching the top, and
stealing to one side out of the dim range light, I took hasty survey of
the deck. It was a dark night, although a few stars were visible, and
the _Sea Gull_ was steaming slowly through a fairly rough sea, pounding
against her port quarter. Little twinkles of light were visible off
the port side, so numerous as to make me suspicion land, while a narrow
strip of moon, barely exposed beneath an edge of cloud, convinced me
our course was almost directly east. This was strange if the boat's
destination was Spanish Honduras, and the Captain was, as he contended,
desirous of making a swift passage. I recall this flash of thought,
yet my attention almost instantly reverted elsewhere. The closer we
hugged the shore the greater the opportunity for escape, the more vital
the necessity of immediately establishing communication with the fair
prisoner below.
A glance sufficed to convince that I was alone, and unobserved. The
deck was unobstructed aft, except for a small boat swung to davits
astern, and the cabin transoms. These last were elevated some three
feet, but considerable space separated from the rail. I slipped into
this opening on the port side, crouching in the dense shadow, until
again assured I was alone. My position afforded as good a view forward
as the darkness would permit, and likewise enabled me to see into the
dimly lit cabin below. The fact that Henley--for whatever his name
might be, this was the one to which he laid claim--had not left his
stateroom, or made any effort to observe my movements, was a decided
encouragement. Beyond all question he believed me safely in his grasp,
and his promise of liberty on board was being substantiated. I was not
to be watched, or spied upon. For the first time I began to feel a
true sense of freedom.
The deck forward of the main mast was too dark for observation,
although I was certain of a group of men gathered in the waist to
leeward. Occasionally the sound of a voice was blown back, and I could
perceive the dull, red glow of a pipe or two. The main body of the
watch these would be, and even as I stared at the lumping shadow, a
command was roared from the bridge, and two shapeless figures detached
themselves from the mass, and ran forward. The bridge itself was
partially outlined against the lighter sky, giving me a vague glimpse
of two figures, one standing motionless, as though gripping the rail,
and peering straight ahead into the smother, the other striding back
and forth. The last appeared a huge shadow, his coat flapping in the
wind, and I knew he must be the German first mate, Herman.
Satisfied on these points, and with a glance below at the unoccupied
cabin, I stepped back and paced off the distance, until convinced that
I had safely located where the porthole of number "5" should be. I
leaned over, seeking to trace its outline by some reflection of light
from within, but the receding side of the vessel baffled me. Yet,
assured that I must be correct in my measurements, I marked the spot on
the rail, and began search for some means by which I could open
communication with the girl below.