THE BEGINNING OF THE END.
After a strong word or two, Prelice sat down philosophically to
consider his position. A weaker man might have raged aimlessly, and
have wasted his strength in battering at the closed door; but Lord
Prelice was too wise to kick against the pricks. He had been trapped
sure enough, and he did not see any way out of the trap. No one knew
where he was save the boatman who had brought him, and even as this
thought came into his mind he heard the raucous voice of Brisson
telling the man that his passenger would remain on board; more than
this, Brisson paid the waterman, and sent him away. Until the hue and
cry was raised the owner of the boat would say nothing, so it was
absolutely certain that Prelice would have to remain in durance vile,
without hope of immediate rescue.
The situation, however, was not devoid of certain consolations.
Without doubt Jadby's plan was to bring Mona on board the _Kanaro_,
and steam away with her to Polynesia. Prelice, at all events, would be
on the same boat as the girl, and if it came to fighting with Jadby he
felt certain that he could hold his own. Moreover, if, as Brisson
declared, the yacht belonged to Madame Marie, he, as her captain, owed
fealty to her rather than to Jadby; and the fortune-teller certainly
would not allow her steamer to carry Mona Chent to the South Seas to
be the bride of her precious Felix. No! Things, on reflection, were
not so bad after all. In any case, Prelice felt that he was in the
thick of the whole villainous business, and soon would be within arm's
length of Mona. When she was dragged on board by her scoundrelly
kidnapper, it would then be the time to act. Prelice lovingly fingered
a revolver which he had strapped behind him, and wondered if it would
be necessary to use it. The weapon formed a strange addition to the
very civilised suit of tweeds which he wore, and was out of place in
sober, law-abiding England. But then danger and murder and sudden
death had entered into his life, and it was necessary to prepare for
emergencies.
"I am not a bloodthirsty man," said Prelice, while seeing that his
gun was well loaded and worked without a hitch, "but I should like one
clean shot at Felix Jadby!" And it may be mentioned that if the
shooting took place Prelice would probably hit the bull's eyes,
represented by the buccaneer. He was a clean shot, and very quick with
his weapon, as those who inhabited uncivilised parts knew from
experience.
The afternoon wore on to six o'clock, and still Prelice was left alone
in his floating dungeon. Probably Brisson did not desire a personal
explanation, knowing that he could not make any very pertinent reply
to this breaking of the law. And it was possible that he preferred to
leave the explanation to Jadby when he arrived with his prey.
Personally, Prelice cared very little. He knew that Mona was safe,
though in the power of a scoundrel; for she was a brave girl, and a
religious girl, who firmly believed in God. So did Prelice, and he was
quite content to think that God, who was slightly stronger than Felix
Jadby, would look after his angel. This being so, and the young man
knowing that God would bring everything to pass for the best in His
own good time, Prelice quietly smoked cigarette after cigarette
throughout that weary afternoon. Then he stretched himself on the
divan, and went to sleep, wondering how Ned was getting on with his
search, and what Madame Marie and Rover were doing.
He was awakened about eight o'clock by a bright light, and a sense
that someone was looking steadily at him. With a yawn he opened his
eyes, and saw that a steward was lighting the swing lamp over the
central table, and that Captain Brisson was looking down upon him. The
sailor had a rugged but somewhat good-natured face, and possessed an
extraordinary athletic figure, which promised well for fighting
purposes.
"Well," said Prelice, swinging his legs on to the floor, "are you
going to starve me?"
Brisson burst into a horse-laugh, while his unwilling guest blinked
and rubbed his eyes. "You're a plucky chap, my lord," said he
approvingly.
"Thanks awfully; but I prefer food to compliments."
"I'm just about to eat myself. Hurry up, steward!" Then, when the man
had gone out, Brisson threw his cap on a chair, and resumed. "You
wonder maybe why I keep you here?"
"No," said Prelice, stretching himself; "it's all in the game."
"What game?" asked Brisson abruptly.
"The very dangerous one you are playing along with Jadby and your
mistress. With Dr. Horace too, for all I know."
"I never met Horace, whoever he may be," retorted Brisson gruffly;
"but all I know of the game is that I have to obey orders----"
"If you break owners," finished Prelice, remembering the saying, "and
you will break them before you've done."
"None of your larks, my lord. I've got a gun."
"So have I," answered Prelice, "loaded in all six chambers. But you
need make no mistake, Brisson. I intend to stop here, and see the game
out to the end. Captain Jadby and I have to settle accounts."
"What sort of accounts?"
"Well, Jadby is kidnapping the lady to whom I am engaged. You can't
expect me to stand that?"
"I guess not," assented Brisson agreeably. "I'm hitched up with a girl
of spirit myself, and if anyone dare to----" He clenched his huge
fist, looking pistols and daggers and Maxim guns.
"That's the proper spirit, Brisson. By the way," Prelice got out a
cigarette, "you might tell me how much you know of this business."
"Very little, I reckon," answered the captain, more and more puzzled
by the young man's coolness. "Jadby and Madame came to London some
months ago, and she started the fortune-telling racket, while he went
to see his uncle. I anchored the boat in Thames River, and went a loaf
round the coast at times to keep the barky in trim. Then the other day
Madame sends a message that I'm to bring the _Kanaro_ round here,
which I have done. Now I'm waiting for further orders."
"When Jadby comes on board with Miss Chent?"
Brisson nodded. "But I don't take any orders from any son of a
sea-cook, you can bet your boots. Madame's owner, and she wants to run
in double harness with Jadby, rum though her taste may be. If he's
skipping with a girl, that's Madame's lookout. I don't sail until she
gives the office."
Prelice nodded his approval. "In that case, Jadby will get left," he
remarked coolly, "for he's trying to play low down on Madame Marie. By
the way, if you know so little of the game, why detain me?"
"Well," said Brisson, scratching his head, "Madame visited the yacht
at times when we were swinging off Gravesend. She told me there was
some trouble over these murders----"
"You know about them?"
"Only what I read in the papers. But Madame said that you were taking
a hand in the meddling way, and that she'd like to keep you out of the
whole business. As I like Madame--who is a dandy fine woman with a
temper--I put you in quod the moment I heard your name. You must stop
here, my lord, until Madame comes on board."
"You have acted in a somewhat high-handed manner, and without any
instructions to go upon," said Prelice calmly. "If I wanted to make a
row I could."
"Not in this ship," growled Brisson.
"Oh, I think so. Yonder is the port-hole, and there isn't very much
distance between this boat and the shore. Also, there are other
steamers lying at anchor close at hand. Not to speak of my boatman
having been in a position to be spoken to from the port-hole. I could
fire a shot or two and rouse the harbour, and I could have hailed my
boatman before you sent him away. I did none of these things. And why?
Because I am in the very position I wish to be in. Jadby is coming on
board, and I want to meet Jadby."
"And to rescue the girl."
"To rescue the young lady," corrected Prelice coldly. "If you attempt
to clear out with Miss Chent, I'll make it hot for you."
"What can you do?"
"What I said. I have my revolver. See!" Prelice whipped out his weapon
before Brisson could move. "I have you covered. What is to prevent me
from shooting you and racing on deck to swim ashore?"
The captain did not move a muscle. "You can put the gun down, my
lord," said he, with a note of admiration in his voice. "I promise you
that I won't steam for the Southern Cross until Madame gives the
word."
"Madame won't come on board."
"Then I wait until she does," retorted Brisson. "Will you put that gun
down, or am I to be shot?"
"You are more use to me alive than dead," said Prelice, and slipped
his derringer behind him, handy for the grip; "but I see the tea is on
the table. I'm infernally hungry."
Brisson smacked his great thigh, and looked at Prelice with much
admiration. "Guess you'll come home on the winner," said he as they
sat at table, "and I should just love to see you get the bulge on that
son of a sea-cook."
"Meaning Jadby?"
"Meaning Jadby," assented Brisson gravely. "Have some salt tack."
The hungry guest assented very readily, and ate a decent meal of
extremely bad sea food. Prelice was not fastidious when in the wilds,
and passed over the table like a prairie fire. At the conclusion of
the meal Brisson mixed him a tot of rum, and handed along a box of
very good cigars, which had never paid duty. Then to pass the time
until Jadby arrived, they chatted. Amongst other things, Prelice
learned that Brisson had met Sir Oliver Lanwin, and did not like him.
The baronet had a bad record in the South Seas.
"I was in his service once," growled Brisson, cutting up tobacco with
a clasp-knife; "but he gave me the chuck 'cause I wouldn't pile up a
schooner, which he'd insured for wrecking. Agstone did it, though."
And he filled a dirty little pipe with the rank tobacco.
"Humph! You knew Agstone?"
Brisson nodded. "He was a fairy-tale pirate, was Agstone," said he.
"Lord, I could put in the night yarning about his doings. Murder
amongst 'em too." And he spat. "Sir Oliver knew of that, and got the
hang of Aggy. No wonder Aggy got square with him."
"Do you mean to say that he murdered Sir Oliver?"
"You can hold on to that, my lord. Sir Oliver treated Aggy like the
old devil treats a holy man. Course I wouldn't swear to Aggy's knifing
him in a Court o' Law; but it sounds like Aggy. Wonderfully quick with
his sticker, was Aggy."
"And who do you think murdered Agstone?"
Brisson leered. "You've got me there," he confessed. "I can't lay my
hand on the son of a gun that did that."
Prelice nodded. Possibly Agstone had turned on his tyrant to send him
below; but it was impossible to say who had sent Agstone to join the
baronet. "About Madame Marie, now. Is that her real name?" he
inquired.
"Oh yes. Marie Eppingrave. She's the daughter of a Tahiti merchant and
a French lady. There's no half-caste rubbish about Madame, you bet.
She's got cash too--this yacht, and a slap-up island all to herself.
Why she wants to collect Jadby into her life, I dunno; but there, you
can't understand womenfolk."
"You like Madame Marie?"
"Seeing she nursed me through a yellow fever bout and gave me this
command, I do," said the man of the sea. "A good sort is Madame, with
a temper of sorts, of course, as every woman should have. She'd knife
a man as soon as look at him, and nurse him square after her temper
had busted. Wish she'd knife Jadby. He's a rotten beach-comber."
"Humph!" Prelice thought for the space of half a cigar. "And Madame
Marie's fortune-telling?"
"Well, I guess there's no explanation of that, my lord. She's got
piles of cash; but maybe her heart's in them hocus-pocus things. I've
seen her do some rum business on occasions. When she looks at you, you
feel cold water freezing your spine. Can't say I'd like to have her to
be Mrs. Brisson, even if I put my old gal into her wooden overcoat.
But Madame Marie's a dandy fine woman. No mistake about that."
In suchlike conversation did the two wile away the time until ten
o'clock, then they went on deck. Brisson was quite willing to allow
Prelice to accompany him, as he had grown to like the young man, and,
moreover, was ready to take his word that he would not try to escape.
But Prelice warned him that he would make trouble to save Mona if
needful, and Brisson being on the side of Madame Marie was agreeable
that it should be so. Besides, he had a sneaking liking for Prelice's
somewhat stormy wooing, and wished to help him. Perhaps a strong
dislike for Jadby had something to do with Brisson's attitude.
It was a perfect night, lighted by a brilliant moon and countless
stars. A warm wind was blowing from the land, and far up on the
heights twinkled the innumerable lights of Folkstone. The _Kanaro_
rocked at anchor a stone's throw from the shore, and many other
vessels of a less piratical nature were anchored in the harbour.
The water shone like a sheet of silver, and the green and red
riding-lights of the ships glittered in the sheeny depths. Prelice
leaned over the side of the boat, and strained his eyes to see if any
craft was approaching the _Kanaro_, but for quite half-an-hour he
beheld nothing. However, he was tolerably certain that Jadby would
come carrying Mona with him, and felt if his revolver was ready in his
hip-pocket. If need be, he was resolved to shoot the buccaneer; and
who can blame him, considering how basely Jadby had acted?
It was when the clock from the church tower boomed out eleven that the
trouble came. Brisson laid his big hand on Prelice's arm, and pointed
to a boat which was putting off from a somewhat deserted part of the
shore. Three figures were in it, two rowing and one seated holding the
tiller-ropes. The rowers were labouring hard to reach the _Kanaro_,
and Prelice saw through his glass that other figures on the land were
launching another boat to follow.
"There's going to be a holy show," swore Brisson under his breath. "I
wish----" He fingered his revolver, but did not dare to use it. The
place was too civilised.
The first boat came on swiftly, and Prelice discerned that Jadby was
rowing with the other man, and that Madame Marie was seated in the
stern. He could see nothing of Mona, and his heart thrilled, as he
thought from the presence of the second boat, which had now put off,
that the girl had been saved, and that her kidnapper was now being
pursued. Brisson watched the race between the two boats, and then ran
on to the bridge. Prelice heard him shout to the engineer to start the
engines--for the boat had steam up--and a minute later he heard the
steady throbbing of the screw, while a rush of men hastily pulled up
the anchor. Apparently Brisson saw that the only chance of safety for
Madame Marie and Jadby was to have the boat ready to start, and risked
the engines going before the anchor was up. Indeed, this latter took
so much time, and time was so precious, that he shouted out to let the
anchor slip, and the roar of the chain showed that his orders had been
obeyed. Meanwhile many people were rushing to and fro on the shore. It
was apparent that everyone knew something untowards was going on, and
that there was intense excitement. Already other boats were putting
off, and Brisson was cursing, like the old salt he was, at the danger
of his beloved mistress.
The first boat swung near the side of the yacht, and Brisson raced
from the bridge to the side to shake out the rope ladder. Madame Marie
rose to grip the rope; but in a moment Jadby was on his feet, and
catching her round the waist, had thrown her into the sea. Brisson
gave a cry of wrath, and as Jadby placed his hand on the ladder, he
leaned over, fumbling behind with his hand. The next moment there was
a clear, sharp crack of a revolver, and Jadby, with a wild cry, fell
off the ladder into the sea. The boatman cowered in his craft; and
Prelice could see the head of Madame Marie appear some distance away,
as she came to the surface and drifted with the tide. On witnessing
the sudden catastrophe, the second boat rowed towards the drowning
woman.
Brisson uttered a shout of rage as Madame Marie was pulled into the
boat, and ran up again on to the bridge.
"Damn it, they've got her," he yelled, and twirled the dial to "Full
speed ahead." Then he sprang to the wheel, and wrenched it out of the
steersman's hands.
Prelice soon saw what he meant. The _Kanaro_ bore straight down on to
the boat. Brisson was evidently prepared to kill his mistress rather
than let her fall into the hands of her enemies. A shout of dismay
arose from the boat as the great bulk of the yacht swung forward. In a
flash Prelice took his choice, and poised his revolver at the mad
captain. There was a crack of the revolver, a cry from Brisson, and he
went down like a shot, while the boat swung helplessly in the harbour,
the engines working powerfully, but the wheel swinging idly.
Two or three sailors seeing that Prelice had shot the skipper, came
towards him with a rush. The young man did not lose time. He jumped on
the taffrail, and dived straight into the silver tide. As he rose to
the surface the crew flung belaying-pins and spars, and bits of coal
lying on the deck, at him. One man, with a straighter aim than the
others, hit Prelice with a lump of hard coal. The young man uttered a
gasping cry, and flinging up his hands, went down. His last look was
at the yacht, and he saw that she swung round, and was heading full
speed for the entrance to the harbour.