THE ALTERED SAILING LIST
When dinner was over, Dick sat by himself in a quiet spot on the liner's
quarter-deck. There was a tall, iron bulwark beside him, but close by
this was replaced by netted rails, through which he caught the pale
shimmer of the sea. The warm land-breeze had freshened and ripples
splashed against the vessel's side, while every now and then a languid
gurgle rose from about her waterline and the foam her plates threw off
was filled with phosphorescent flame. A string band was playing on the
poop, and passengers and guests moved through the intricate figures of a
Spanish dance on the broad deck below. Their poses were graceful and
their dress was picturesque, but Dick watched them listlessly.
He was not in a mood for dancing, for he had been working hard at the dam
and his thoughts were disturbed. Clare had refused him, and although he
did not accept her decision as final, he could see no way of taking her
out of her father's hands, while he had made no progress towards
unraveling the latter's plots. Kenwardine was not on board, but Dick had
only seen Clare at some distance off across the table in the saloon.
Moreover, he thought she must have taken some trouble to avoid meeting
him.
Then he remembered the speeches made by the visitors at dinner, and the
steamship officers' replies. The former, colored by French and Spanish
politeness and American wit, eulogized the power of the British navy and
the courage of her merchant captains. There was war, they said, but
British commerce went on without a check; goods shipped beneath the red
ensign would be delivered safe in spite of storm and strife; Britannia,
with trident poised, guarded the seas. For this the boldly-announced
sailing list served as text, but Dick, who made allowances for exuberant
Latin sentiment, noted the captain's response with some surprise.
His speech was flamboyant, and did not harmonize with the character of
the man, who had called at the port before in command of another ship. He
was gray-haired and generally reserved. Dick had not expected him to
indulge in cheap patriotism, but he called the British ensign the meteor
flag, defied its enemies, and declared that no hostile fleets could
prevent his employers carrying their engagements out. Since the man was
obviously sober, Dick supposed he was touting for business and wanted to
assure the merchants that the sailings of the company's steamers could be
relied upon. Still, this kind of thing was not good British form.
By and by Don Sebastian came down a ladder from the saloon deck with
Clare behind him. Dick felt tempted to retire but conquered the impulse
and the Spaniard came up.
"I have some business with the purser, who is waiting for me, but cannot
find my señora," he explained, and Dick, knowing that local conventions
forbade his leaving Clare alone, understood it as a request that he
should take care of her until the other's return.
"I should be glad to stay with Miss Kenwardine," he answered with a bow,
and when Don Sebastian went off opened a deck-chair and turned to the
girl.
"You see how I was situated!" he said awkwardly.
Clare smiled as she sat down. "Yes; you are not to blame. Indeed, I do
not see why you should apologize."
"Well," said Dick, "I hoped that I might meet you, though I feared you
would sooner I did not. When I saw you on the ladder, I felt I ought to
steal away, but must confess that I was glad when I found it was too
late. Somehow, things seem to bring us into opposition. They have done so
from the beginning."
"You're unnecessarily frank," Clare answered with a blush. "Since you
couldn't steal away, wouldn't it have been better not to hint that I was
anxious to avoid you? After all, I could have done so if I had really
wanted."
"I expect that's true. Of course what happened when we last met couldn't
trouble you as it troubled me."
"Are you trying to be tactful now?" Clare asked, smiling.
"No; it's my misfortune that I haven't much tact. If I had, I might be
able to straighten matters out."
"Don't you understand that they can't be straightened out?"
"I don't," Dick answered stubbornly. "For all that, I won't trouble you
again until I find a way out of the tangle."
Clare gave him a quick, disturbed look. "It would be much better if you
took it for granted that we must, to some extent, be enemies."
"No. I'm afraid your father and I are enemies, but that's not the same."
"It is; you can see that it must be," Clare insisted; and then, as if
anxious to change the subject, went on: "He was too busy to bring me
to-night so I came with Don Sebastian and his wife. It is not very gay in
Santa Brigida and one gets tired of being alone."
Her voice fell a little as she concluded, and Dick, who understood
something of her isolation from friends of her race, longed to take her
in his arms and comfort her. Indeed, had the quarter-deck been deserted
he might have tried, for he felt that her refusal had sprung from wounded
pride and a sense of duty. There was something in her manner that hinted
that it had not been easy to send him away. Yet he saw she could be firm
and thought it wise to follow her lead.
"Then your father has been occupied lately," he remarked.
"Yes; he is often away. He goes to Adexe and is generally busy in the
evenings. People come to see him and keep him talking in his room. Our
friends no longer spend the evening in the patio."
Dick understood her. She wanted to convince him that Kenwardine was a
business man and only gambled when he had nothing else to do. Indeed, her
motive was rather pitifully obvious, and Dick knew that he had not been
mistaken about her character. Clare had, no doubt, once yielded to her
father's influence, but it was impossible that she took any part in his
plots. She was transparently honest; he knew this as he watched her color
come and go.
"After all, I don't think you liked many of the people who came," he
said.
"I liked Jake," she answered and stopped with a blush, while Dick felt
half ashamed, because he had deprived her of the one companion she could
trust.
"Well," he said, "it isn't altogether my fault that Jake doesn't come to
see you. We have had some accidents that delayed the work and he has not
been able to leave the dam."
He was silent for the next few minutes. Since Clare was eager to defend
Kenwardine, she might be led to tell something about his doings from
which a useful hint could be gathered, and Dick greatly wished to know
who visited his house on business. Still, it was impossible that he
should make the girl betray her father. The fight was between him and
Kenwardine, and Clare must be kept outside it. With this resolve, he
began to talk about the dancing, and soon afterward Jake came up and
asked Clare for the next waltz. She smiled and gave Dick a challenging
glance.
"Certainly," he said with a bow, and then turned to Jake. "As Miss
Kenwardine has been put in my charge, you must bring her back."
Jake grinned as he promised and remarked as they went away: "Makes a good
dueña, doesn't he? You can trust Dick to guard anything he's told to
take care of. In fact, if I'd a sister I wanted to leave in safe
hands----" He paused and laughed. "But that's the trouble. It was my
sister who told him to take care of me."
Dick did not hear Clare's reply, but watched her dance until Don
Sebastian's wife came up. After that he went away, and presently strolled
along the highest deck. This was narrower than the others, but was
extended as far as the side of the ship by beams on which the boats were
stowed. There were no rails, for passengers were not allowed up there;
but Dick, who was preoccupied and moody, wanted to be alone. The moon had
now risen above the mountains and the sea glittered between the shore and
the ship. Looking down, he saw a row of boats rise and fall with the
languid swell near her tall side, and the flash of the surf that washed
the end of the mole. Then, taking out a cigarette, he strolled towards
the captain's room, which stood behind the bridge, and stopped near it in
the shadow of a big lifeboat.
The room was lighted, and the door and windows were half open because the
night was hot. Carelessly glancing in, Dick saw Don Sebastian sitting at
the table with the captain and engineer. This somewhat surprised him, for
the purser transacted the ship's business and, so far as he knew, none of
the other guests had been taken to the captain's room. He felt puzzled
about Don Sebastian, whom he had met once or twice. The fellow had an air
of authority and the smaller officials treated him with respect.
Something in the men's attitude indicated that they were talking
confidentially, and Dick thought he had better go away without attracting
their attention; but just then the captain turned in his chair and looked
out. Dick decided to wait until he looked round again, and next moment
Don Sebastian asked: "Have you plenty coal?"
"I think so," the engineer replied. "The after-bunkers are full, but I'd
have taken a few extra barge-loads here only I didn't want any of the
shore peons to see how much I'd already got."
Dick did not understand this, because coal was somewhat cheaper and the
facilities for shipping it were better at the boat's next port of call,
to which it was only a two-days' run. Then the captain, who turned to Don
Sebastian, remarked:
"Making the sailing list prominent was a happy thought, and it was lucky
your friends backed us up well by their speeches. You saw how I took
advantage of the lead they gave me, but I hope we haven't overdone the
thing."
"No," said Don Sebastian thoughtfully; "I imagine nobody suspects
anything yet."
"Perhaps you had better clear the ship soon, sir," said the engineer.
"Steam's nearly up and it takes some coal----"
The room door slipped off its hook and swung wide open as the vessel
rolled, and Dick, who could not withdraw unnoticed, decided to light his
cigarette in order that the others might see that they were not alone. As
he struck the match the captain got up.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"One of the foreign passengers, I expect; the mates can't keep them off
this deck," the engineer replied. "I don't suppose the fellow knows
English, but shall I send him down?"
"I think not. It might look as if we were afraid of being overheard."
Dick held the match to his cigarette for a moment or two before he threw
it away, and as he walked past noted that Don Sebastian had come out on
deck. Indeed, he thought the man had seen his face and was satisfied,
because he turned back into the room. Dick went down a ladder to the deck
below, where he stopped and thought over what he had heard. It was plain
that some precautions had been taken against the risk of capture, but he
could not understand why Don Sebastian had been told about them.
By and by he thought he would speak to the purser, whom he knew, and went
down the alleyway that led to his office. The door was hooked back, but
the passage was narrow and a fat Spanish lady blocked the entrance. She
was talking to the purser and Dick saw that he must wait until she had
finished. A man stood a few yards behind her, unscrewing a flute, and as
a folded paper that looked like music stuck out of his pocket he appeared
to belong to the band.
"But it is Tuesday you arrive at Palomas!" the lady exclaimed.
"About then," the purser answered in awkward Castilian. "We may be a
little late."
"But how much late?"
"I cannot tell. Perhaps a day or two."
"At dinner the captain said----"
"Just so. But he was speaking generally without knowing all the
arrangements."
Dick could not see into the office, but heard the purser open a drawer
and shuffle some papers, as if he wanted to get rid of his questioner.
"It is necessary that I know when we arrive," the lady resumed. "If it is
not Tuesday, I must send a telegram."
The purser shut the drawer noisily, but just then a bell rang overhead
and the whistle blew to warn the visitors that they must go ashore.
"Then you must be quick," said the purser. "Write your message here and
give it to me. You need not be disturbed. We will land you at Palomas."
The lady entered the office, but Dick thought her telegram would not be
sent, and a moment later the captain's plan dawned on him. The ship would
call at the ports named, but not in the order stated, and this was why
she needed so much coal. She would probably steam first to the port
farthest off and then work backward, and the sailing list was meant to
put the raider off the track. The latter's commander, warned by spies who
would send him the list, would think he knew where to find the vessel at
any particular date, when, however, she would be somewhere else. Then
Dick wondered why the musician was hanging about, and went up to him.
"The sobrecargo's busy," he said in English. "You'll be taken to sea
unless you get up on deck."
"I no wanta el sobrecargo," the man replied in a thick, stupid voice.
"The music is thirsty; I wanta drink."
The second-class bar was farther down the alleyway, and Dick, indicating
it, turned back and made his way to the poop as fast as he could, for he
did not think the man was as drunk as he looked. He found the musicians
collecting their stands, and went up to the bandmaster.
"There's one of your men below who has been drinking too much caña," he
said. "You had better look after him."
"But they are all here," the bandmaster answered, glancing round the
poop.
"The man had a flute."
"But we have no flute-player."
"Then he must have been a passenger," said Dick, who hurried to the
gangway.
After hailing his fireman to bring the launch alongside, he threw a quick
glance about. The shore boatmen were pushing their craft abreast of the
ladder and shouting as they got in each other's way, but one boat had
already left the ship and was pulling fast towards the harbor. There
seemed to be only one man on board besides her crew, and Dick had no
doubt that he was the flute-player. He must be followed, since it was
important to find out whom he met and if, as Dick suspected, he meant to
send off a telegram. But the liner's captain must be warned, and Dick
turned hastily around. The windlass was rattling and the bridge, on which
he could see the captain's burly figure, was some distance off, while the
passage between the gangway and deckhouse was blocked by the departing
guests.
The anchor would probably be up before he could push his way through the
crowd, and if he was not carried off to sea, he would certainly lose
sight of the spy. Writing a line or two on the leaf of his pocket-book,
he tore it out and held it near a Creole steward boy.
"Take that to the sobrecargo at once," he cried, and seeing the boy stoop
to pick up the note, which fell to the deck, ran down the ladder.
He had, however, to wait a minute while the fireman brought the launch
alongside between the other boats, and when they pushed off Don
Sebastian, scrambling across one of the craft, jumped on board. He smiled
when Dick looked at him with annoyed surprise.
"I think my business is yours, but there is no time for explanations," he
said. "Tell your man to go full speed."
The launch quivered and leaped ahead with the foam curling at her bows,
and Dick did not look round when he heard an expostulating shout. Jake
and Bethune must get ashore as they could; his errand was too important
to stop for them, particularly as he could no longer see the boat in
front. She had crossed the glittering belt of moonlight and vanished into
the shadow near the mole. Her occupant had had some minutes' start and
had probably landed, but it might be possible to find out where he had
gone.
"Screw the valve wide open," Dick told the fireman.
The rattle of the engine quickened a little, the launch lifted her bows,
and her stern sank into the hollow of a following wave. When she steamed
up the harbor a boat lay near some steps, and as the launch slackened
speed Dick asked her crew which way their passenger had gone.
"Up the mole, señor," one answered breathlessly.
"It is all you will learn from them," Don Sebastian remarked. "I think we
will try the _telegrafia_ first."
There was no time for questions and Dick jumped out as the launch ran
alongside the steps. Don Sebastian stopped him when he reached the top.
"In Santa Brigida, nobody runs unless there is an earthquake or a
revolution. We do not want people to follow us."
Dick saw the force of this and started for the telegraph office, walking
as fast as possible. When he looked round, his companion had vanished,
but he rejoined him on the steps of the building. They went in together
and found nobody except a languid clerk leaning on a table. Don Sebastian
turned to Dick and said in English, "It will be better if you leave this
matter to me."
Dick noted that the clerk suddenly became alert when he saw his
companion, but he waited at a few yards' distance and Don Sebastian said:
"A man came in not long since with a telegram. He was short and very dark
and probably signed the form Vinoles."
"He did, señor," said the clerk.
"Very well. I want to see the message before it is sent."
"It has gone, señor, three or four minutes ago."
Don Sebastian made a gesture of resignation, spreading out his hands.
"Then bring me the form."
Dick thought it significant that the clerk at once obeyed, but Don
Sebastian, who stood still for a moment, turned to him.
"It is as I thought," he said in English, and ordered the clerk: "Take us
into the manager's room."
The other did so, and after shutting the door withdrew. Don Sebastian
threw the form on the table.
"It seems we are too late," he said.