CAPTAIN JULES, DEEP SEA DIVER
The "Water Witch" rocked lazily on the breast of the waves, awaiting the
coming of the four girls, who had planned to row up the bay on a voyage
of discovery. They were not much interested in staying about among the
Cape May cottagers, after the conversation which they had innocently
overheard from the deck of the launch the night before. Of course, if
Mrs. Curtis and Tom had come on to Cape May at once to occupy their
cottage, as they had expected to do, all would have been well. The four
young women and their chaperon would have been immediately introduced to
the society of the Cape. However, the girls were not repining at their
lack of society. They had each other; there was the old town of Cape May
to be explored with the great ocean on one side and Delaware Bay on the
other.
"Do be careful, children," called Miss Jenny Ann warningly as the girls
arranged themselves for a row in their skiff. "In all our experience on
the water I never saw so many yachts and pleasure boats as there are on
these waters. If you don't keep a sharp lookout one of the larger boats
may run into you. Don't get into trouble."
"We are going away from trouble, Miss Jenny Ann," protested Phil. "There
is a yacht club on the sound, but we are going to row up the bay past the
shoals and get as far from civilization as possible."
Madge stood up in the skiff and waved her hand to their chaperon. The
girls looked like a small detachment of feminine naval cadets in their
nautical uniforms. Each one of them wore a dark blue serge skirt of ankle
length and a middy blouse with a blue sailor collar. They were without
hats, as they hoped to get a coating of seashore tan without wasting any
time.
"I shall expect you home by noon," were Miss Jenny Ann's final words as
the "Water Witch" danced away from the houseboat.
"Aye, aye, Skipper!" the girls called back in chorus. "Shall we bring
back lobsters or clams for luncheon, if we can find them?"
"_Clams!_" hallooed Miss Jenny Ann through her hands. "I am dreadfully
afraid of live lobsters." Then the houseboat chaperon retired to write a
letter to an artist, a Mr. Theodore Brown, whose acquaintance she had
made during the first of the houseboat holidays. He had suggested that he
would like to come to Cape May some time later in the summer if any of
his houseboat friends would be pleased to see him, and she was writing to
tell him just how greatly pleased they would be.
The "Merry Maid" had found a quiet anchorage in one of the smaller inlets
of the Delaware Bay, not far from the town of Cape May. The larger number
of the summer cottages were farther away on the tiny islands near the
sound and along the ocean front.
The "Water Witch" sped gayly over the blue waters of the bay in the
brilliant late June sunshine. Madge and Phil, as usual, were at the oars.
Tania crouched quietly at Lillian's feet in the stern of the skiff.
Eleanor sat in the prow.
"What do you think of it all, Tania?" Madge asked the little adopted
houseboat daughter. Tania had been very silent since their arrival at the
seashore. If she were impressed at the wonderful and beautiful things she
had seen since she left New York City, she had, so far, said nothing.
Her large black eyes blinked in the dazzling light. She was looking
straight up toward the sky in a curious, absorbed fashion. "I was trying
to make up my mind, Madge, if this place was as beautiful as my kingdom
in Fairyland," answered Tania seriously, "and I believe it is."
"Have you a kingdom in Fairyland, little Tania?" inquired Phil gently.
She did not understand the child's odd fancies, as Madge did.
Tania nodded her head quietly. "Of course I have," she returned simply.
"Hasn't every one a Fairyland, where things are just as they should be,
beautiful and good and kind? I am the queen of my kingdom."
Phil looked puzzled, but Madge only laughed. "Don't mind Tania, Phil. She
is going to be a very sensible little houseboat girl before our holiday
is over. Besides, I understand her. She only says some of the things I
used to think when I was a tiny child. But I do wish the people on the
boats would not stare at us so; there is nothing very wonderful in our
appearance."
The girls were trying to guide their rowboat among the other larger craft
that were afloat on the bay. They wished to get into the more remote
waters. In the meantime it was embarrassing to have smartly dressed women
and girls put up their lorgnettes and opera glasses to gaze at the girls
as the latter rowed by.
"Can there be anything the matter with us?" asked Phil solicitously. "I
never saw anything like this fire of inquisitive stares."
"Of course not, Phil," answered Lillian sensibly. "It is only because we
are strangers at Cape May, and most of the people whom we see about come
here each year. Then we are the only persons who live in a Noah's ark, as
those pleasant people on the yacht called our pretty 'Merry Maid' last
night. Don't worry. Have you thought how odd it is that we won't even
know them if we should be introduced to them later? We did not see either
them or their boat very plainly last night; we only overheard them
talking."
"But I'll know the voice of that woman who screamed," replied Madge
rather grimly. "I just dare her to shriek again without my recognizing
her dulcet tones."
The girls were now drawing away from the crowded end of the bay. They
kept along fairly close to the shore. There was an occasional house near
the water, but these dwellings were farther and farther apart. Finally
the girls rowed for half a mile without seeing any residence save an
occasional fisherman's hut. They hoped to reach some place where they
could catch at least a glimpse of the wonderful cedar woods that flourish
farther up the coast of the bay.
Suddenly Lillian sang out: "Look, girls, there is the dearest little
house! It is almost in the water. It rivals our houseboat, it is so like
a ship. Isn't it too cunning for anything!"
Madge and Phyllis rested on their oars. The girls stared curiously.
They saw a house built of shingles that had turned a soft gray which
exactly resembled an old three-masted schooner. It had a tiny porch in
front, but the first roof ended in a point, the second rose higher, like
a larger sail, and the third, which must have covered the kitchen, was
about the height of the first.
"See, Tania, I can make the funny house by putting my fingers together,"
laughed Lillian. "My thumbs are the first roof, my three fingers the
second, and my little fingers the last."
The girls rowed nearer the odd cottage. The place was deserted; at least
they saw no one about. Over the front door of the house hung a trim
little sign inscribed, "The Anchorage."
"Dear me, here is a boathouse, and we've a houseboat!" exclaimed Eleanor.
"I wish we dared go ashore and knock at the door, to ask some one to show
us over it."
"I don't think we had better try it, Eleanor," remonstrated Phil. "The
house probably belongs to some grouchy old sea captain who has built it
to get away from people."
At this moment a man at least six feet tall, wearing old yellow
tarpaulins, came around the side of the house of the three sails with a
large basket on each arm. He sat down on a rock in front of the house and
began lifting mussel and oyster shells out of one of his baskets. He
would peer at them earnestly before throwing them over to one side. He
was a giant of a man, past middle age. His face was so weather-beaten
that his skin was like leather. His eyes were blue as only a sailor's
eyes can be. On one of the man's shoulders perched a wizened little
monkey that every now and then tugged at its master's grizzled hair or
chattered in his ear.
[Illustration: "Good Morning" Shouted Madge.]
The man did not observe the girls in the rowboat, although they were only
a few yards away.
"Good morning," sang out Madge cheerfully, forgetting the vow of silence
which the girls had made that morning against the Cape Mayites. But then,
the girls had never dreamed of seeing such a fascinating seafaring old
mariner. Their vow had been taken against the society people.
The sailor, however, did not return Madge's friendly salutation; he went
on examining his oyster and mussel shells.
Madge looked crestfallen. The old sailor had such a splendid, strong
face. He did not seem to be the kind of man who would fail to return a
friendly good morning greeting.
"I don't think he heard you, Madge. Let's all halloo together," proposed
Lillian.
"Good morning!" shouted five young voices in a mischievous chorus.
The seaman lifted his big head. His smile came slowly, wrinkling his face
into heavy creases. "Good morning, mates," he called heartily. "Coming
ashore?"
"Oh, may we?" cried Madge in return. "We should _dearly_ love to!"
The five girls needed no further invitation. They piled out of the "Water
Witch" before their host could come near enough to assist them.
The seaman did not invite them into the house. The girls took their seats
on the big rock near the water. Madge was farthest away, but promptly the
monkey leaped from its master's shoulder and planted itself in Madge's
hair, pulling the strands violently while he chattered angrily.
"You horrid little thing!" she cried; "you hurt. I wonder if you hate red
hair. Is that the reason you are trying to pull mine out? Please,
somebody, take this playful beast away."
The old sea captain, as the girls guessed him to be, promptly came to
Madge's rescue and removed the angry monkey.
"You must forgive my pet," he remarked kindly. "My little Madge is
jealous. She doesn't like strangers and we don't often have young lady
visitors."
"Madge!" exclaimed the little captain, smiling as she tried to re-arrange
her hair. "What a funny name for a monkey. Why, that is my name!"
After a few advances the monkey became very friendly with the other
girls, but she would have nothing to do with Madge. She would fly into a
perfect tempest of rage whenever Madge approached her or tried to talk to
her. The monkey even deserted her master to perch in Tania's arms. The
animal put its little, scrawny arms about the queer child's neck, and
there was almost the same elfish, wistful look in both pairs of dark
eyes.
"Do you catch many fish in these waters?" inquired Eleanor, whose
housewifely soul was interested in the big basket of lobsters that she
saw crawling about, writhing and twisting as though they were in agony.
"Almost every kind that lives in temperate waters," answered the sailor,
"but there is nothing like the variety one finds in the tropics."
"Were you once a sea captain?" asked Lillian curiously.
The man shook his head. "I'm not a captain in the United States service,"
he returned. "I am called captain in these parts, 'Captain Jules,' but I
have only commanded a freight schooner."
"I know I have no right to be so curious," interposed Madge, "but I
dearly love everything about the sea. Were you ever a deep sea diver?
Somehow you look like one."
"I was a pearl-fisher for many years," the seaman answered as calmly as
though diving for pearls was one of the most ordinary trades in the
world. But his eyes twinkled as he heard Madge's gasp of admiration and
caught the expression on the faces of the other girls.
"You were looking for pearls in those oysters and mussel shells when our
boat came along, weren't you?" divined Madge, regarding him with large
eyes.
The man nodded a smiling answer.
"Yes, but I didn't expect to find any pearls," he answered. "It is
strange how a man's old occupation will cling to him, even after he has
long ago given it up. There are very few pearls to be found now in the
Delaware Bay or the waters around here."
Captain Jules was gravely removing lobsters from his basket for Tania's
entertainment while he talked to Madge. Tania was watching him,
breathless with admiration and terror. The captain would take hold of one
of the great, crawling things, rub it softly on its horned head as one
would rub a tabby cat to make it purr. He would then set the lobster up
on its hind claws and the funny crustacean would fall quietly asleep, as
though it were nodding in a chair.
"I never saw anything so queer in my life," chuckled Phil. "You hypnotize
the lobsters, don't you?"
Captain Jules shook his shaggy head. He was proud of the appreciation his
accomplishment had excited. "No; I don't hypnotize them," he explained.
"Anybody can make old Father Lobster fall asleep if he only rubs him in
the right place. You are not going, are you?" for the girls had risen to
depart.
"I am afraid we must," said Madge; "we promised to get back to our
houseboat by noon. If you come down to Cape May, won't you please come to
see us? Our houseboat is a rival to your boathouse."
"You are very kind," answered the old captain, shaking his head, "but I
don't do much visiting. I thank you just the same. Let me fix you up a
basket of fish. Afraid of the lobsters, aren't you, little girl?" he
said, smiling at Tania.
The old sailor followed his visitors to help them aboard their rowboat.
He walked beside Madge, keeping a careful watch on his monkey, which
still chattered and gesticulated, showing her hatred of the little
captain.
The girls realized that this man had the manners of a gentleman, although
he looked as rough and uncouth as a common sailor. There was a kind of
nobility about him, as of a man who has lived and fought with the big
things of the earth.
Madge looked at him beseechingly just before they arrived at their skiff.
Now, when Madge desired anything very greatly she was hard to resist. Her
blue eyes wore their most bewitching expression. "Please," she faltered,
"I want you to do me a favor. I know I have no right to ask it, but,
but----"
"What is it?" inquired Captain Jules, smiling.
"Have you your diving suit?" asked Madge. "If you have, and you would
show it to me some day, I would be too happy for words." Madge blushed at
her own temerity.
The captain shook his head. There was little encouragement in his
expression. "Maybe, some day," he replied vaguely; "but I have had the
suit put away for some time. Who knows when I will go down into the sea
again? Be careful in that small skiff," he warned the girls. "There are
so many launches about on these waters, run by men and women that don't
know the very first principles of running a boat, that a small craft like
yours may easily drift into danger. You must look lively."
The girls waved their good-byes as Madge and Phil pulled away. Madge
noticed that the old sailor stared curiously at her, and every now and
then he shook his head and frowned. Madge supposed it was because she had
been so bold as to ask a favor of a perfect stranger. Yet, if she could
only see Captain Jules again and he might be persuaded to show her his
diving suit and to tell her something of the strange business of
pearl-fishing, she couldn't be really sorry for her impudence. This
accidental meeting with an old sailor inspired Madge afresh with her love
of the sea and the mystery of it. She could not get the man out of her
mind, nor her own desire to see him soon again and to ask him more
questions.
As for Captain Jules, when the girls had fairly gone he lighted his pipe
and strode along the line of the shore. "It's a funny thing, Madge," he
said, addressing the monkey, "but when a man gets an idea in his head,
everything and everybody he sees seems to start the same old idea
a-going. I wish I had asked her to tell me her surname. I wonder if she
is the real Madge?"