THE SLEEPING SNAKE
Captain Brant, of the turbine steam yacht _Cobra_, walked the spotless
deck of his vessel; and he walked slowly, for he was reading a letter
which the postman had just brought on board. While he read his hideous
features were twisted into the ape-like contortion that did duty with
him for a grin. When he had mastered the contents of the missive, he
thrust it into the pocket of his brass-buttoned reefer, and shouted for
"Mr. Cheeseman."
An answering bawl was heard somewhere forward, and there came running
aft the bullet-headed mate who a few days before had at first refused
Travers Nugent admission to the ship.
"Know anything about ladies' underclothes?" asked the wicked-looking
skipper, with a horrible leer.
"Can't say I do, sir; but if it's in the way of duty I can jolly soon
find out," was the brisk reply.
"Yes, it's in the way of duty; and, by the same token, the need for the
duds is a sign that we are soon to clear out of this beastly port," said
the captain, scratching his chin. "I've heard from the boss--the chap
that was here the other day--and it seems that when we start we're to
pick up a lady passenger, who will be in too great a hurry to bring her
trunks aboard. So we're to buy some things for her, here in Weymouth.
I'll give you a ten-pound note, and you can go ashore straight away and
buy what's necessary for a three weeks' voyage."
"Aye, aye, sir," replied the mate. "What about the size?"
"I forgot that," cackled Brant, and he referred to the letter. "My eyes!
but she must be a strapping fine girl--five feet ten high, and well
proportioned as to other dimensions. That means that she ain't too broad
in the beam, but just broad enough, I reckon. And there's another thing,
Bully, my boy."
"Sir to you."
"It was thought that the lady's own maid would go the voyage with her,
but it seems there's a doubt about it. Orders are to engage a woman to
act as stewardess and general attendant to the passenger, it being
owner's wish to show her every consideration in reason. While you're
ashore after the nighties and things, you're to look out a female to
suit the situation. Age and character immaterial. Any old geezer with a
bad record will do, so long as she's got a good muscle on her."
"Right-o!" responded the truculent-looking mate. "Seems like a
kidnapping job, but that's no business o' mine."
"And you wouldn't be chief officer on this ship for long if you were
fool enough to make it so," Brant piped in his squeaky treble. "Now get
ashore with you, and be back inside two hours with the drapery and the
woman. I can see by the letter I've had that we may get sailing orders
any minute."
Cheeseman made a pretence of touching his cap, and vanished shoreward
over the gangway. The _Cobra_ was still tied up to the quay at Weymouth,
her highly-paid crew of scoundrels chafing against the delay which
deferred their promised reward, but by this time thoroughly cowed by the
vessel's weird commander. There was not a man on her who dared leave the
ship without permission or definite orders. The grog-shops in full view
of "the sleeping snake," as they had dubbed the steamer, had no longer
temptation for men who knew that if they yielded to it, retribution
would be swift and sure. It was wiser, they argued amongst themselves,
to observe discipline and reap a harvest of shekels when the _Cobra's_
mission, whatever it might be, had been fulfilled. It was also the
easier to keep them on board, since most of them had been selected
because, for one reason or another, they were wanted by the police.
Having despatched his subordinate on his curious mission, Captain Brant
made a tour of his ship, inspecting every portion of her with as close
an attention to detail as if she had been a man-of-war. The luxurious
and beautifully-upholstered saloon on the upper deck received a large
share of his critical scrutiny; while, in strange contrast, his next
visit was to a cabin on the lower deck, down in the bowels of the
vessel, which was hardly furnished at all, and was certainly not
luxurious. A bare bench, with some sacking on it, suggested that it was
meant for a bed, and that was about all. Screwed into the bulk-head
over the bench was a massive iron ring, and there lay on the floor a
longish chain and a complete set of leg-irons fitted with cruel anklets.
The only means of light was a small porthole protected by bars. The
place seemed to have been prepared as a lazaretto--a kind of maritime
prison.
Brant smiled grimly at the forbidding-looking chamber, then went back to
the upper deck to await Cheeseman's return. Punctually at the stipulated
time the bullet-headed mate appeared at the gangway.
"Well, where are the things? Where is the stewardess?" the captain
scowled at him, perceiving that he was empty-handed and unaccompanied.
"The clothes will be delivered within half an hour; they had to make
some alterations," Cheeseman hastened to assure him. "As to engaging a
stewardess it's a dead failure. I saw one or two, but they won't join
without fuller particulars of where we're bound for and how long we're
to be away. I couldn't tell 'em, could I, seeing as I don't know
myself."
The captain fired off half-a-dozen foul-mouthed expletives, and only
checked them when a telegraph boy skipped across the gang-plank and
handed him an orange-coloured envelope. Tearing it open, he glanced at
the contents and bade the youth begone. The form contained the single
word "Advance." Brant tore it into little pieces, and threw them
overboard.
"Sailing orders," he said laconically. "Make things hum, Cheeseman. We
must be off as soon as we get a full head of steam on her."
In ten seconds the vessel was in a state of orderly confusion. The crew
appeared as by magic from the forecastle and went to their stations; the
engine-room staff mustered round the shining monsters that were their
especial care; the lazy fumes of blue vapour hovering over the funnel
from the banked fires changed to great coils of black smoke as the
stokers got to work on the furnaces. Brant took his place on the bridge,
and watched his gang of ruffians with sinister satisfaction. The period
of suspense was over, and they would give him no more trouble now that
the lust of gold was on them, and they were in a fair way to verify
Nugent's promises of a princely wage.
It was not long before the mate ran up the bridge stairs and reported a
full head of steam and all ready to cast off. As he did so a cab rattled
over the cobblestones of the quay road, and drew up opposite the
_Cobra_.
"And here's the lady passenger's outfit, just in time not to be left
behind," he added, catching sight of the cab as a young woman jumped
nimbly out of the vehicle, and, after paying the driver, came towards
the ship. Her progress was somewhat impeded by the weight of two large
cardboard boxes which she was carrying.
Captain Brant cocked his bloodshot eye at the draper's assistant who had
been entrusted with the delivery of the urgent order, and an inspiration
came to him. The girl was not prepossessing, having strongly-marked,
determined features; but she had a powerful, almost masculine frame, for
all its size, not devoid of a certain panther-like grace. Brant uttered
one of his nasty cackles, and turned to Cheeseman.
"We'll kill two birds with one stone, Bully," he said. "There's the fair
passenger's blooming trousseau, and there, by gosh, is the blooming
stewardess. Take the girl down into the saloon, and keep your jaw-tackle
busy with her while I get a move on the ship. Say you must check the
goods, or any flam of the sort. She'll do as well as another, soon as
she knows there's dollars in it. If you're clever we'll be out to sea
before she tumbles to it that she's left her native shores."
The mate grinned comprehension, and running down to the deck met the
girl at the gangway. The moment they had disappeared into the saloon
Brant gave orders to cast off, and as soon as the ropes that had moored
the vessel to the quay had been hauled on board he rang the engine-room
bell. The _Cobra's_ mighty screw began to churn the still waters of the
harbour, and slowly she sidled out into the fairway on the first stage
of a voyage that was to lead her--whither? Twenty minutes later she had
passed the green slopes of the Nothe and was heading at half-speed
towards the open sea under the frowning heights of Portland.
At the end of that time Brant, from his perch on the bridge, saw the
saloon door open and the young lady from the draper's shop come out on
deck, followed by Bully Cheeseman. For an instant the girl stared round
in evident bewilderment, then turned upon the man who had beguiled her
into false security while the ship was being got under weigh.
"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded in a ringing voice that
reached the bridge--the voice of a woman too angry to use many words.
"Skipper's orders," replied Cheeseman curtly. He had exhausted his
limited stock of spurious politeness in distracting her attention, and
now that the end was gained was not inclined to exert himself further.
Before he could guard himself his cheeks were tingling under two
resounding smacks, his cap was knocked into the scruppers and his lank
hair was in the clutch of lithe fingers. But the man who had earned the
nickname of "Bully" was no respecter of sex, and, recovering himself, he
seized the girl by the throat and shook her viciously. In his rage he
might have gone to any lengths if Captain Brant had not run down the
bridge stairs and flung him aside.
"Get to your duty," commanded the little atomy in his quavering treble.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself for handling a lady so. A little
more velvet glove, and not quite so much iron hand till it's wanted, on
this ship, if you please, my son."
Catching the wicked wink at the tail of his chief's eye, the mate
sheered off in seeming self-abasement, and left the involuntary
"stewardess" face to face with Brant. Somehow the courage which had
stood her in good stead with the sturdy "Bully" failed her when
confronted by this five-foot skeleton who looked as if he had been
buried and dug up again. Her firm mouth quivered a little, and there
was a suspicion of moisture in the sullen, wrathful eyes.
"Now that you've had your lark perhaps you'll turn your beastly ship
round again and put me ashore," she strove to speak bravely. "I shall be
fined as it is, for not being back on time."
Brant wheezed and cackled. "You've done with fines, my dear," he said,
running an approving glance over the imposing female figure in the
shabby black dress. "I'm going to be a father to you and make your
fortune. Fact is there's a lady passenger coming aboard presently who'll
want different company from us rough sailor-men, and I was bound to find
it for her. The moment you stepped out of that cab I spotted you for the
job, and there's not a bit of use in making a fuss. It'll be a gold mine
for you before you've done with it. You'll never need to stand behind a
counter again and be cheeked by rude old women--no, not in your
natural."
The tall draper's assistant measured the captain with a calculating eye,
and saw that in him that was not to be reckoned in inches. She was
already mastering her indignation at the outrage. "You don't mean to put
me ashore?" she said firmly.
"I'm d----d if I do," was Brant's energetic rejoinder.
She appeared to reflect. "If there's really money in it I don't so much
mind," she said at length. "But if you want a quiet time you'll have to
meet me on one thing. You must run into Plymouth on your way down
Channel and give me a chance to let my young man know where I am. He's
in the Navy--a petty officer on the destroyer _Snipe_."
Captain Brant rubbed his chin as if weighing the feasibility of the
proposition. "Well," he said, "it won't be at all convenient, but I'll
stretch a point to oblige you. You don't want to see the gentleman?"
"No, so long as I can send word to him, or get a letter posted, it will
be all right."
"Then I'll do that much for the sake of a quiet life."
"You'll have to, or there'll be trouble," replied the matter-of-fact
young amazon, little guessing that the villainous skipper had not the
slightest intention of fulfilling his promise. A naval port, bristling
with warships, was the very last place the _Cobra_ would be likely to
visit after her contemplated doings at Ottermouth that night.
However, having for the time pacified his stewardess, he became civil
enough and allotted her a comfortable cabin near the saloon and next to
a large, luxuriously furnished state-room which he pointed out as
destined for the lady passenger whom they were to call for on their way
down the coast.
"By the way," he wheezed with one of his monkey-like grins as he
prepared to return to the bridge, "I haven't had the honour of an
introduction. It might save awkwardness if you'd kindly put a name to
yourself, miss."
"Jimpson," was the reply, "Miss Nettle Jimpson, and you'll find I'm a
stinging-nettle, if you don't treat me fair."
Brant bowed with a mock solemnity, the hollowness of which he scarcely
troubled to conceal. "Simon Brant has tamed vixens worse than you, my
lass," he muttered behind his yellow teeth as he swung himself back to
his perch.
And all that lovely summer afternoon the _Cobra's_ powerful turbine
engines drove the graceful vessel through the calm waters of the sunlit
sea nearer to its prey. At sundown speed was reduced in order to conform
with the instructions not to arrive off Ottermouth till after dark. But
when the last rose tint had faded from the western sky Brant gave orders
to steam slowly round the point at the river's mouth and heave to about
three miles from the shore.
"Now the fun begins," he said to Cheeseman, who was with him on the
bridge. "Keep your eyes skinned for a blue light followed by a green due
north of us. When we see it you'll take the electric launch and drive
her to the point where the light is shown. There you'll find a passenger
waiting for you. Make the launch travel like hell, for you'll have
another trip later. Rat Mullins and Snobby Wilson will go with you.
They're about the toughest of the crowd, but I don't figure on trouble
for you. The chap that's bossing things ashore will have seen to that."
So "the sleeping snake" lay on the gently heaving swell amid the gloom
of the moonless night, and waited.