IN accepting Captain Forbes’s invitation to supper Dorothy had taken it
for granted that the other two survivors of the Queen were included,
and was somewhat startled to find that they were not.
“Gallegher insisted on your friends eating with him,” explained Forbes,
with a smile. “He declared that I might have the best, but that I
shouldn’t hog everything, and I had to give in.”
Dorothy accepted the explanation, but her heart beat anxiously. Nor
was her anxiety lessened by Captain Forbes’s attitude. Had she not
been warned of his probable designs, she might have passed over his
behavior as merely the would-be gallantry of an uncultivated man, and
even then would have found it sufficiently offensive. But, in view of
all she had been told, its import quickly became portentous. Between
extravagant compliments, often so pointed as to cause her considerable
embarrassment, Forbes sandwiched encomiums of the life on the wreckage,
for support of which he appealed to Mother Joyce, declaring that
Dorothy would soon submit to the inevitable, and settle down to remain
there for life. All suggestions as to the possibility of escape he
pushed aside.
“Our known history of life here goes back for more than fifty years,”
he declared, “and in that time nobody has escaped. Nobody ever will.
It’s impossible. You will fight against the idea for awhile, and then
settle down to enjoy yourself.”
“Enjoy myself!”
“Why not? We have everything here that any one needs--all the
necessaries, and far more of the luxuries than any except a very few
favored people enjoy anywhere. We have a storehouse full of everything
that delights a woman, and if it was destroyed to-morrow, we could
easily fill it again. Duplicates of all its contents will drift in to
us again sooner or later on some ship. Ask what you will, and it will
be my delight to lay it at your feet.”
Dorothy tried to smile. “Very well, then,” she particularized, “just
give me a telegraph-office.”
“With pleasure. We have a complete outfit. I’m sorry to say, though,
that the wires are not strung yet.”
“Then give me a boat and a--compass, isn’t it, that we need?”
“Those are about the only things we cannot furnish, Miss Fairfax. When
sailors are forced to leave their ships, they invariably take the boats
and the compasses with them. But why do you wish to leave us? It will
be our constant study to make you happy. You shall have the best of
everything, and your lightest wish shall be law.”
“My only wish is to get back to dry land. If my wish is law, help me
to do so.”
“I cannot! And I would not if I could. I have waited long for a woman
as fair and sweet as you to drift in to me, and now that you have come,
I will not give you up lightly. The wrecks and their contents are ours
by right of salvage. You, too, are salvage--and the fairest salvage I
have ever known.”
This was forcing the game with a vengeance. Dorothy’s lip quivered, and
she cast a frightened glance at Mother Joyce. But that lady was eating
her supper stolidly, and made no sign. Evidently, for the moment at
least, she intended to let Dorothy play her own hand.
Forbes continued: “No, you are here for life, Miss Fairfax. I regret it
for your sake, but I rejoice in it for my own. You are here for life,
and you must make up your mind to it, choose a husband, and settle
down.”
“I shall never marry.”
“You must consider a moment. There are twenty-two of us men here
and only two women. Under such circumstances, how can we afford to
permit any woman to remain single. We used to do it years ago, when
the disproportion was not quite so great, and what was the result?
Decimation of our numbers, no less! The men quarreled and fought and
murdered each other, exactly as wild beasts do, all for the sake of
one woman. Well do I remember the last time this happened! In a week
five men had been killed, and bad blood stirred up that did not subside
for years. We could not chance a repetition of this sort of thing,
and we made a law that every woman who arrived here must marry within
twenty-four hours. She could choose any one she liked, but choose she
must.”
“But no such rule can apply to me.”
“Why not? You are a lady, of course, and far above the level of
nine-tenths of the men here. But there is the remaining tenth to
choose from. Of course, none of us are worthy of you, but--we will make
good husbands.”
Dorothy tried to laugh the words away, but could not. She told herself
that all this was some horrible dream from which she would presently
awake, but all the while she knew it was terribly real. The toils
were closing round her fast. Her thoughts flew to Howard. He, she
felt, would save her, if man could; but he was one, and Forbes and
his followers were many. If it came to a struggle the result would be
inevitable. What could she do? What _could_ she do?
Forbes was watching her keenly. “You realize the situation now?” he
continued. “For our own welfare we cannot permit you to remain single.
You could not get away, and we would not permit you to do so if you
could. You must marry--in twenty-four hours. And since you must marry,
let me advise you to choose one who can provide for you--and there
is no one here who can do that so well as I. I won’t talk about
love--that is for boys, and I am a man; but if you will marry me, you
shall be queen here. Come! what do you say?”
Dorothy pushed back her chair and rose. “I say that this is utterly
preposterous. I will not marry any one on compulsion. Certainly I will
not marry you. I wish you good day, Captain Forbes.”
She turned toward the door, but Forbes stepped before her.
“One moment, Miss Fairfax,” he said. “I know how you feel, and I do not
wish to turn you against me by undue persistency. If you want to go
now, go! But think over what I have said. I believe that you will come
to see that it is the best thing you can possibly do. Talk it over with
your friends, I think they will advise you to consent. At all events,
you have twenty-four hours--till four o’clock to-morrow, to get used to
the idea. Take my advice and wait calmly till then.”
Dorothy bowed haughtily. “Very well,” she returned. “I will wait. Now,
will you kindly summon my friends. I wish to return to my ship.”
Forbes’ lips curved in a cruel smile. “_Your_ ship, Miss Fairfax,” he
echoed. “You have no ship. You and your companions abandoned the Queen
of your own accord, and by the law of the sea she and everything on
her became the property of any one who salvaged her. My men have taken
possession of everything, including your abandoned trunks--which are
now mine. You have no place to lay your head, and nothing in the world
except what you have on your person. However, I am not unkind. For
twenty-four hours I will give you food and shelter. At the end of that
time--well, we will see. Now you may go with Mother Joyce, who will
care for you. And think over my proposition.”