CROSS PURPOSES
Though Iris gave such warlike counsel, it would be doing her a grave
injustice to assume that her gentle disposition was changed because of
the day's sufferings. The erstwhile light-hearted schoolgirl and
youthful mistress of her uncle's house had been subjected to dynamic
influences. The ordeal through which she had passed, unscathed bodily
but seared in spirit, had left her strung to a tense pitch. Relaxation
had not come--as yet. She only knew that she resented to the uttermost
the Brazilians' malevolent fury. Hers was a nature that could not
endure unfairness. It was unfair of David Verity to seek to mend his
shattered fortunes by forcing her into a hateful marriage; unfair of
both Verity and Coke to found their new venture on a great fraud; and
monstrously unfair of these island factionaries to vent their spite on
an innocent ship. So, for the hour, she was inspired. It is the
high-souled enthusiast who devotes life itself to a cause; those who
practice oppression have ever most to beware of in the man or woman
whose conscience will not condone a wrong.
Of course, in this present clash of emotions, Iris little understood
what her advice really meant. She was appealing to heaven rather than
to the force of arms. To one of her temperament, it seemed incredible
that a number of inoffensive strangers should be slaughtered because a
South American republic could not agree in choosing a president. Such
a thing was unheard of in her previous experience, built on no more
solid foundation than the humdrum existence of Brussels and Bootle.
And the inhabitants of neither Brussels nor Bootle settle their
political differences by shooting casual visitors at sight.
Oddly enough, the only professional soldier present condemned her
project roundly when it was mooted.
"In leaving the island to-night you are acting on an assumption,"
protested Captain San Benavides to his chief. "You cannot be sure that
the _Andros-y-Mela_ will not appear. The arrangement is that she is to
send a boat here soon after midnight, yet, if this mad scheme of an
attack on armed troops by unarmed men is persisted in, we must begin to
ferry to the island long before that hour. In all probability, we
shall be discovered at once. At the very moment that our friends are
eagerly awaiting us on board the ship we may be lying dead on the
island. The notion is preposterous. Be guided by me, Dom Corria, and
decline to have anything to do with it. Better still, let these
English boors promise to forget that we are alive; then Marcel can
guide them to the landing-place, where they will be shot speedily and
comfortably. There is no sense in sacrificing the girl. She must be
kept here on some pretext."
The ex-President took thought before he answered. He did not deny
himself that the confident air of these hard-bitten sailors made strong
appeal to his judgment. He had his own reasons for distrusting some
among his professed supporters, and he did not share his military
aide's opinion as to the coming of the promised vessel.
"There is a good deal in what you say, senhor adjudante," he announced
after his bright eyes had dwelt on San Benavides' expressive face in
thoughtful scrutiny. "In England they have a proverb that a man cannot
both run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, but such maxims are
not framed for would-be Presidents. I fear we must fall in with our
allies' views, _faute de mieux_. You and I have to lead a headstrong
army. That little Hercules of a commander is stubborn as a mule--a
mule that has the strength and courage of a wild boar. The younger man
thinks only of the girl's safety. He, at least, will not consent to
leave her. Both, backed by their crew, will not scruple to sacrifice
us if their interests point that way. Trust me to twist them into the
course that shall best serve our own needs. I am now going to tell
them that you approve of their plan."
Forthwith he launched out into an English version of the excellent
captain's comments. His precise, well-turned periods were admirable.
Their marked defect was that he said the exact contrary to San
Benavides.
Iris, having a born aptitude for languages, spoke French and German
with some proficiency. She had also devoted many hours to the study of
Spanish during the past winter, and it happens that the Portuguese of
Brazil is less unlike Spanish than the Portuguese of Lisbon. In
Europe, national antipathies serve to accentuate existing differences
between the two tongues, but the peoples of the South American seaboard
feel the need of a common speech, and local conditions have
standardized many words. Hence, the Spanish language will serve all
ordinary purposes among the Latin races who have made their own the
vast continent that stretches from Panama to Tierra del Fuego.
So the girl's super-active brain was puzzled by De Sylva's rendering of
his military friend's remarks. With the vaguest knowledge of what was
actually said, she suspected that San Benavides had opposed the very
project which, according to the President, he favored. She had caught
the name of the relief vessel, the words _bote_, "boat," _las doce_,
"twelve o'clock," _à bordo de buque_, "on board the ship," and others
which did not figure in the translation. She wondered why.
The long day wore slowly. The heat was intense. Even the hardened
sailors soon found that if the atmosphere of the cavern were to remain
endurable they might not smoke. So pipes were extinguished, and they
tried to better their condition. Water-soaked coats and boots placed
in the sun were dry in a few minutes. Iris was persuaded to allow her
dress to be treated in this manner. She was still wearing the heavy
ulster of the early morning--when the aftermath of the gale was chill
and searching--and the possession of this outer wrap made easy the
temporary discarding of a skirt and blouse.
Unhappily, she answered in French some simple query of the dapper
officer's. Thenceforth, to her great bewilderment and Hozier's
manifest annoyance, he pestered her with compliments and inquiries. To
avoid both, she expressed a longing for sleep. It seemed to her
excited imagination that she would never be able to sleep again, yet
her limbs were scarcely composed in comfort on a litter of coarse grass
and parched seaweed than her eyes closed in the drowsiness of sheer
exhaustion. This respite was altogether helpful. She had slept but
little during the gale, and its tremendous climax had surprised her
vitality at a low ebb.
When she awoke, the ravine was in shadow and the interior of the cave
was dark. Her first conscious sensation was that of almost intolerable
thirst. Her lips were blistered, her tongue and palate sore, and she
asked herself in alarm what new evil was afflicting her, until she
remembered the drenching she had received and the amount of salt-laden
air that had passed into her lungs. Nevertheless, she cried
involuntarily for water, and again she was offered wine. She managed
to smile in a strained fashion at this malicious humor of fortune. By
a freak of memory she called to mind the somewhat similar predicament
of the crew of a storm-tossed ship that she had once read about. They
ran short of water, but the vessel carried hundreds of cases of bottled
stout. During three long weeks of boating against the wind those
wretched men were compelled to drink stout morning, noon, and night,
and never did temperance argument apply with greater force to the
seafaring community than toward the end of that enforced regimen of
malt liquor.
Hozier, who had aroused her by touching her shoulder, fancied he saw
the gleam of merriment in her face.
"What is amusing you?" he asked.
She told him, though she spoke with difficulty.
"It is not quite so bad as that," he said. "If there is no hitch in
our plans, we should be on the island within five hours. We have
everything thought out as far as may be in view of the unknown. At any
rate, Miss Yorke, if we succeed in getting you safely ashore, you
personally will have but slight cause for further anxiety. The
proposal is that Marcel shall take you at once to the hut of an old
convict whom he can trust----"
"A convict!" she gasped. The word was ominous, and she was hardly
awake.
"The population of Fernando Noronha is almost entirely made of convicts
and soldiers," he explained.
"But am I to be left there alone?"
"What else is there to be done? You cannot join in the attack on a
fort--and that offers our only chance, it would seem. Granted an
effective surprise, we may carry it. Then your guardian will bring you
to us."
"What if you fail?"
"We must not fail," he said quietly.
"Please do not hide the alternative from me," she pleaded. "I have
endured so much----"
"Well, don't you see, this man--who, by the way, is married, and has a
daughter aged fourteen--will, if necessary, reveal your presence to the
Governor. By that time, say, in a day or two, the excitement will have
died down, the news of your escape will be cabled to England, you will
be sent to the coast on the Government steamer, and you can travel home
by the next mail."
"That sounds very simple--and European," she said, and the pathetic
sarcasm was not lost on him.
"It is reasonable enough. Unfortunately for us, all the bother centers
round Senhor De Sylva, to whom we owe our lives. He is outside at the
moment, showing our skipper the lay of the land before the light fails,
so I am free to speak plainly. When he is dead there will be no
further trouble, till the next revolution. But why endeavor to look
ahead when seeing is impossible? At present, what really presses is
the necessity that you should eat and drink. We have shared out the
whole of the available food. Here is your portion. We deemed it best
to give the men one square meal. They know now that they must earn the
next one."
With each instant her perceptive powers were quickening. She was aware
that he had deliberately avoided the main issue. De Sylva's probable
death implied a good deal, but it was the supreme test of her courage
that she refrained from useless questioning. Yet she thrust aside the
two bananas and supply of dried meat and crusts that Hozier placed
before her.
"I cannot eat," she murmured, striving to control her voice.
"But you must. It is imperative. You would not wish to break down at
the very moment your best energies will be in demand. Our lives, as
well as your own, may depend on your strength. Come, Miss Yorke, no
woman could have been pluckier than you. Don't fail us now."
The gloom was deepening momentarily. Hozier's back was turned to the
entrance, and, in the ever-growing darkness, she was unable to see his
face; but his anxious protest in no wise deceived her; she even smiled
again at the ruse that attempted to saddle her with some measure of
responsibility for the success or failure of the raid.
"If I promise to eat--and drink this sour wine--will you be candid?"
she asked.
"Well----"
"One must bargain. There is no other way. . . . Promise!"
"I suppose you mean that I must agree to please you by wild guessing
about events that may turn out quite differently."
"Candid, I said."
"Yes--that most certainly."
"In the first place, may we go into the fresh air? I must have slept
many hours. What time is it?"
"About seven o'clock."
"Seven! Have I been lying here since goodness knows what time this
morning?"
"You were thoroughly used up," he said, and he added, with a laugh: "If
it is any consolation, I may tell you that, to the best of my belief,
you never moved nor uttered a sound."
"For instance, I didn't snore," she cried, rising to her feet, and
thanking the kindly night that veiled her untidiness.
"I--don't--think so."
"Oh, please be more positive than that. You send a cold shiver down my
back."
"Several members of the _Andromeda's_ crew also indulged in a prolonged
siesta," he said. "I assure you it was almost out of the question to
divide the sleepers into snorers and non-snorers."
A man will talk harmless nonsense of that sort when he is at his wit's
end to wriggle out of a perplexing situation. Hozier was deputed to
obtain the girl's consent to the proposal he had already put before
her. He feared that she would refuse compliance, for he understood her
fine temper better than the others. He was a young man--one but little
versed in the ways of women--yet some instinct warned him that there
was a nobility in Iris Yorke's nature that might set self at naught and
urge her to share her companions' lot, even though certain death were
the outcome.
They passed together through the cavern. Watts, sound asleep, was
lying there. The majority of the men were seated on the rocks without,
or lounging near the entrance. They were smoking now freely, the only
stipulation being that matches were not to be struck in the open.
Their whispered talk ceased when they saw the girl. Absorbed in the
prospect of a fight for life, for the moment they had forgotten her,
but a murmured tribute of sympathy and recognition greeted her
appearance.
The Irishman found his tongue first.
"Begorrah, miss," he said, "but it's the proud man I'll be the next
time I see you smilin' from the kay side at Liverpool, no matter
whether I'm there meself or not."
No one laughed at the absurd phrase which so clearly expressed its
meaning. But the ship's cook, Peter, noting the strips of dried meat
in her hands, raised a grin by saying:
"Sorry the galley fire is out, miss, or I'd 'ave stewed 'em a bit."
This kindly badinage was gratifying, though it helped to reveal the
interrupted topic of their conversation. There was no hiding the
desperate character of the coming adventure. The _Andromeda's_ crew
did not attempt to minimize it. The choice offered lay only in the
manner of their death. As to the prospect of ultimate escape, they
hardly gave it a thought. Some among them had served in the armies of
Europe, and they, at least, were under no delusion concerning the issue
of an attack on a fort by less than a score of unarmed men--seventeen
to be exact, since two of the ship's company were so maimed by the
bursting of the shell on the forecastle as to be practically helpless;
it was by the rarest good fortune that they were able to walk.
Iris smiled at them in her frank way.
"I hope you will all be spared to ship on a new _Andromeda_," she said.
No sooner had the words left her lips than the thought came unbidden:
"If my uncle and Captain Coke wished the ship to be thrown away,
nothing could have better suited their purposes than this tragic error."
For the instant, the unforeseen outcome of that Sunday afternoon's
plotting in the peaceful garden of Linden House held her imagination.
She recalled each syllable of it, and there throbbed in her brain the
hitherto undreamed of possibility that Coke had brought the _Andromeda_
to Fernando Noronha in pursuance of his thievish project.
At once she whispered to Hozier:
"Is there anyone on the path below?"
"No," he said. "The Brazilians are with Coke at the top of the gully."
"Is it safe for us to go the other way."
"I think so. But you must be careful not to slip."
She caught his arm, little knowing the thrill her clasp sent through
his frame. This simple gesture of her confidence was bitter-sweet. He
resolutely closed his eyes to the knowledge that this might be their
last talk.
"I shall not fall," she said. "I am a good mountaineer. I learnt the
trick of it in Cumberland. Come with me. There is a pleasant breeze
blowing from the sea."
They climbed down. Neither spoke until they stood on the curving ledge
that had proved their salvation. Though the tide was rising again, the
heavy sea was gone. The current still created some spume and noise as
it swept past the reef, but its anger had vanished with the gale.
Beyond the fringe of broken water a slight swell only served to mirror
in countless facets the tender light of a perfect sunset. The eastern
horizon was a broad line of silver. Nearer, the shadow of the island
created bands of purest green and ultramarine.
They reached the place from which the Brazilians had thrown the rope.
They could hear the quiet plash of the water in the cleft. Piled
against a low-lying rock were the funnel and other debris of the
_Andromeda_. The black hull was plainly visible beneath the surface.
Even while they were looking at the wreck a huge fish curled his ten
feet of length with stealthy grace from out some dim recess; it might
be, perhaps, from out the crushed shell of the chart-room.
Hozier glanced at his companion. He half expected her to shrink back
appalled at this sinister sight; it was her destiny to surprise him not
once but many times during that amazing period.
"Is that a shark?" she asked quietly.
"Yes. . . . You stipulated for candor, you know."
"I had no notion that such a monster could move with so great elegance.
I think I would rather be eaten by a shark than lie at the bottom of
the sea like our poor vessel there."
"Even a shark would appreciate the compliment," he said.
Her eyes continued to watch the terrifying apparition until it prowled
into hidden depths again.
"I am not sorry I have seen it," she murmured. "It helps one to
understand. We are glib concerning the laws of nature, and seem to
regard them much as the printed regulations stuck on hackney carriages,
whatsoever they may be. Yet, how cruelly just they are! I suppose
that the finding of the ship's booty by that huge creature has given a
new span of life to some weaker fish."
Hozier did not know whether or not she had realized the shark's real
quest. Her next words enlightened him.
"If we follow the others, will the soldiers throw our dead bodies into
the sea?" she asked.
"I want you to believe that you will be absolutely safe if we escape
being discovered during the crossing of the narrow strip of water that
separates this rock from the island," he hastened to say. "That is
your only risk, and it is a light one. Senhor De Sylva is sure that
the troops will not keep the keenest lookout to-night. They are still
convinced that the insurgent steamer is sunk. Our chief danger will
date from to-morrow's dawn. Marcel reports that a systematic search of
the island was begun to-day. It will be continued to-morrow, but on
new lines, because, by that time, they will have learnt the truth. The
_Andros-y-Mela_ is not lying in pieces at the foot of this rock, the
President has not escaped, and every practicable inch of Fernando
Noronha and the adjacent islands will be scoured in the hope of finding
him. At first sight, that looks like being in our favor; in reality,
it means the end if we are discovered here. The soldiers will shoot
first and inquire afterwards. I have not the slightest doubt but that
plenty of evidence will be forthcoming that we were a set of
desperadoes who had unlawfully interfered in the affairs of a foreign
state."
She appeared to be weighing this argument, sitting in judgment on De
Sylva and his theories.
"I want to do that which is for the good of all," she said at length.
"Do you ask me to go to this convict's house, Mr. Hozier?"
"I urge it on you with the utmost conviction. With you off our hands,
we can act freely. We must deliver an attack to-night. God in Heaven,
you cannot think that we would expose you to the perils of a desperate
fight!"
His sudden outburst was unexpected, even by himself. He trembled in an
agony of passion. Iris placed a timid hand on his shoulder.
"I will go," she whispered. "Please do not be distressed on my
account. I will go. I brought you here, not to discuss my own fate,
but yours. These Brazilians will not scruple to make use of you, and
then throw you aside if it suits their purpose. That man, De Sylva,
does not care how he attains power, and I know that he and the officer
entertain some plan which they have not revealed to you."
"You . . . _know_."
"Yes. I understand a little of their language. I have a mere glimpse
of its sense, as one sees a landscape through a mist. When De Sylva
told you to-day that San Benavides was with you heart and soul, he was
lying. There were things said about a ship, and midnight, and a boat.
I watched the officer's face. He was wholly opposed to the landing
to-night. My mind is not so vague now. I think I can grasp his
meaning. Was it not to-night that the _Andros-y-Mela_ was to appear?"
"Yes."
"Well, may they not hope secretly that she will keep to the fixed hour?
Once you and I and the others are on the island, and an alarm is given,
the Brazilians could slip away unnoticed. Yes, that is it. I do not
trust them any more than I trusted Captain Coke. Don't you realize
that he brought the _Andromeda_ to this place in order to wreck her
more easily? It was to supply a pretext for the visit that he made
undrinkable the water in the ship's tanks."
That appealing hand still rested on Philip's shoulder. Its touch
affected him profoundly. With a lightning dart of memory his thoughts
went back to the moment when she lay, inert and half-fainting, in his
arms on the bridge, after he had taken her from the lazarette. But he
controlled his voice sufficiently to say:
"You may be right; indeed, I know you are right, so far as Coke is
concerned. When I went aft to find out if one of the boats could not
be cleared, I noticed that a steering-gear box had been prised open
again. I had time for only a second's glance, but I was sure the
damage had not been done by a bullet. So the _Andromeda_ was doomed to
be lost, no matter what happened. By ----, forgive me, Miss Yorke, but
this kind of thing makes one savage."
"Perhaps it is matterless now. Coke will stand by the rest of us in
our struggle for life, at any rate. But the Brazilians----"
"Have no fear of them. I, too, have watched San Benavides. I don't
like the fellow, and wouldn't place an ounce of faith in him, but De
Sylva has brains, and he knows well enough that no ship from Brazil
will come to Fernando Noronha in his behalf. In fact, he dreads a
visit by a Government vessel, in which event our frail chance of
seizing that launch----"
She felt, rather than saw, that he had suddenly grown rigid. His right
arm flew out and drew her to him.
"Sh-s-s-h!" he breathed, and pulled her behind a rock. Her woman's
heart yielded to dread of the unseen. It pulsed violently, and she was
tempted to scream. Despite his warning, she must at least have
whispered a question, but her ears caught a sound to which they were
now well accustomed. The light chug-chug of an engine and the flapping
of a propeller came up to them from the sea. The steam launch was
approaching. Perhaps they had been seen already! As if to emphasize
this new peril, there was an interval of silence. Steam had been shut
off. Philip touched the girl's lips lightly with a finger. Then he
lay flat on the ledge and began to creep forward. It was impossible
that he should run and warn the others, but it was essential, above all
else, that he should ascertain what the men on the launch were doing,
and the extent of their knowledge.
He found a tuft of the grass that clung to a crevice where its roots
drew hardy sustenance from the crumbling rock; he ventured to thrust
his head through this screen, following Domingo's example some hours
earlier. Almost directly beneath, his eager glance found the little
vessel. She was floating past with the current. He peered down on to
her deck as if from the top of a mast. A few cigarette-smoking
officers were grouped in her bows. Apparently, they were more
interested in the remains of the _Andromeda_ than in the natural
fortress overhead. Clustered round the hatch were some twenty
soldiers, also smoking.
One of the officers pointed to the ledge; he was excited and emphatic.
Philip could not imagine that they had detected him, but he feared lest
Iris, in her agitation, might have moved. In that clear, calm air, not
even the growing dusk would hide the flutter of a skirt or the altered
position of a white face. A man in charge of the wheel replied to the
officer with a laugh. The first speaker turned, glanced at the
Brothers reef, behind which the _Andromeda's_ boat had vanished that
morning, and nodded dubiously. The man at the wheel growled an order,
and the engine started again. Though Hozier knew not what was said,
the significance of this pantomime was not lost on him. The local
pilot was afraid of these treacherous waters in the dark, but next day
Frade de Francez (which is the islanders' name for the Grand-père Rock)
would surely be explored if a landing could be made. At a guess, the
silent watcher took it that the steersman had declined to make a
circuit of the rock until the light was good.
Away bustled the launch, but Hozier did not move until there was no
risk of his figure being silhouetted against the sky. Even then, he
wormed his way backward with slow caution. Iris was crouched where he
had left her, wide-eyed, motionless.
"Good job we came here," he said. "It is evident they mean to maintain
a patrol until there is news of De Sylva one way or the other. It will
be interesting now to hear what the gallant San Benavides says. If any
ship comes to Fernando Noronha to-night she will be seen from the
island long before any signal is visible at this point."
"Do you think the others saw the launch?" she asked.
"No--not unless some of the men strayed down the gully, which they were
told not to do. The breakers would drown the noise of the engines and
screw."
There was a slight pause.
"Will you tell them?" she went on.
"Why not?"
This time the pause was more eloquent than words. Quite unconsciously,
Iris replied to her own question.
"Of course, as you said a little while ago, we owe our lives to Dom
Corria De Sylva," she murmured, as if she were reasoning with herself.
By chance, probably because Hozier stooped to help her to her feet, his
arm rested lightly across her shoulders.
"I will not pretend to misunderstand you," he said. "If the Brazilians
do not mean to play the game, it would be a just punishment to let them
rush on their own doom. But De Sylva may not agree with this fop of an
officer, and, in any event, we must go straight with him until he shows
his teeth."
"You seem to dislike Captain San Benavides," she said inconsequently.
"I regard him as a brainless ass," he exclaimed.
"Somehow, that sounds like a description of a dead donkey, which one
never sees."
"Mademoiselle!" came a voice from the lip of the ravine.
"One can hear him, though," laughed Hozier, with a warning pressure
that suspiciously resembled a hug. These two were children, in some
respects, quicker to jest than to grieve, better fitted for mirth than
tragedy.
They moved out from their niche, and San Benavides blustered into
vehement French.
"We are going to the landing-place before it is too dark," he muttered
angrily. "We must not show a light; in a few minutes the path will be
most dangerous. Please make haste, mademoiselle. We did not know
where you had gone."
"The men knew," suggested Hozier in the girl's ear. He dared not trust
either his temper or his vocabulary.
"We shall lose no time, now, monsieur," said Iris, hurrying on.
"This way then. No, we do not pass the cave. We go right round the
cliff. Permit me, mademoiselle. I am acquainted with each step."
He took her hand. Philip followed. He was young enough to long for an
opportunity to tell San Benavides that he was a puppy, a mongrel puppy.
Just then he would have given a gun-metal case, filled with cigars--the
only treasure he possessed--for a Portuguese dictionary.
After a really difficult and hazardous descent, they found the others
awaiting them in a rock-shrouded cove. The barest standing-room was
afforded by a patch of shingle and detritus. Alongside a flat stone
lay three broad planks tied together with cowhide. The center plank
was turned up at one end. This was the catamaran, which de Sylva had
dignified by the name of boat. The primitive craft rested in a black
pool in which the stars trembled, though they were hardly visible as
yet in the brighter sky. The water murmured in response to the
movement of the tide, but to the unaided eye there was no vestige of a
passage through the volcanic barrier that reared itself on every hand.
"Were 'ave you bin?" growled Coke. "We've lost a good ten minnits.
You ought to 'ave known, Hozier, that it's darkest just after sunset."
"We could not have started sooner, sir."
"W'y not? We were kep' waitin' up there, searchin' for you."
"That was our best slice of luck to-day. Had any of you appeared on
the ledge you would have been seen from the launch."
"Wot launch?"
"The launch that visited us this morning. Ten minutes ago she was
standing by at the foot of the rock."
Philip spoke slowly and clearly. He meant his news to strike home. As
he anticipated, De Sylva broke in.
"You _saw_ it?" he asked, and his deep voice vibrated with dismay.
"Yes. I even made out, by actions rather than words, that the darkness
alone prevented the soldiers from coming here to-night. The skipper
would not risk it."
De Sylva said something under his breath. He spoke rapidly to San
Benavides, and the latter seemed to be cowed, for his reply was brief.
Then the ex-President reverted to English.
"I have decided to send Marcel and Domingo ashore first," he said.
"They will select the safest place for a landing. Marcel will bring
back the catamaran, and take off Mr. Hozier and the young lady.
Captain Coke and I will follow, and the others in such order as Senhor
Benavides thinks fit. The catamaran will only hold three with safety,
but Marcel believes he can find another for Domingo. Remember, all of
you, silence is essential. If there is an accident, some of us may be
called on to drown without a cry. We must be ready to do it for the
sake of those who are left. Are we all agreed?"
A hum of voices answered him. De Sylva was, at least, a born leader.