IMOGENE FEARS FOR ME.
On hearing that we were sailing to the coast my delight was so keen
that I came near to suffocating myself by the sudden checking of
the shout of joy that rose to my throat like an hysteric throttling
thickness in the windpipe. To be sure, had anyone asked what there was
in the news to fill me with this transport I should not have been able
to offer a sufficient reason, for it was not as though Vanderdecken
meant to steer for a port. I was sensible that he would head for some
desolate bay upon a hot shore of sand, backed by great mountains,
and leagues distant from any settlement, whether Dutch or British.
Yet so great had been the depression excited by the tempest and the
barrenness of our chances, that the mere circumstance of a change
having come about, the mere happening of a departure from our rueful
business of beating to the windward, raised my spirits to a very great
height; nor must it be forgotten that though I conjectured in darkness,
I had for a long time felt persuaded that if ever we were to remove
ourselves from the Death Ship, the only opportunity that could offer
would attend our dropping anchor off the African Coast.
I will not say that Vanderdecken did not observe the change in my
countenance when he made his answer to Imogene. But whatever might have
been his reflections they were concealed by his frowning brow and the
dark and stormy shadow of passion upon his face. He ceased to speak
when she ceased to question, and went on deck without calling for his
usual pipe of tobacco, which was a very remarkable illustration in him
of his wrath and concern.
"Dearest," said I, going to Imogene's side, "it has been a dark and
cheerless night with you I fear. Would to God it were this day in my
power to give redness to the roses that now lie white in your cheeks.
Yet this is great news that Vanderdecken has given us."
She smiled in a questioning way.
"Why," said I, answering her, "'tis very certain that we shall never
escape from this Death Ship whilst she sails the seas. But though I
could not here say for the life of me what the land may do for us, I
feel that the coming to an anchor close to it may give us a chance, and
it will go hard indeed if a sailor's cunning, sharpened by despair,
does not contrive some remedy for this horrible enthralment."
She mused a little and said, "Geoffrey, I have made up my mind to this:
if you can carry me away with you I will go--whatever resolution you
may form will be mine, as shall be your fortune. But, dearest," says
she, smiling to my grasp of her hand, "I am also determined that your
liberty shall not depend upon my escape; if you are able to get away
alone, but not with me, then I stay."
"Ah!" said I, shaking my head, "your gaze cannot have sunk very deep
into me or you would not talk thus."
She put her finger upon my lip. "Geoffrey, consider this. You are
a man, you are young, the world is before you, liberty is your
precious jewel--nay, you have a home and a mother to return to. I am
an orphan--lonely in this great world of water as any sea-bird that
solitarily follows our ship. I sometimes feel that there is a cold hand
on my heart and that my time is not long. If it is to be my destiny to
remain in this vessel, I am too certain of a short residence to fear
it."
She stopped suddenly and wept.
We were alone, and I took her in my arms. I saw how it was with her,
how the fear of the tempest, how sleeplessness, had wrought in her
delicate health and depressed her powers, and I comforted and cherished
her as my heart's love best knew how; yet her foreboding concerning
her time in this world struck a chill into my blood, for it just then
found solemn accentuation in her unusual pallor, her languid eyelids,
the sadness of her smile, her low voice and tears.
However, I borrowed comfort from the reflection that the health of the
heartiest maiden might well fail in such an existence as this girl
passed, spite of the wine-like invigoration of the salt winds; that she
had survived hard upon five years of experiences so wild and amazing
that a few weeks had tended not a little to pale my own face and even
rob me of something of my manhood; that it was inevitable she should
break down from time to time, but that her sweetness would soon bloom
and be coloured into a loveliness of health when this Death Ship had
become a thing of the past, and when I had safely lodged her as my
bride in my mother's pretty home, with flower-gardens and fields to
wander in, upon floors unrocked by billows, in rooms irradiated at
night by fires never more mystical than the soft flame of oil or the
silver of star and moonshine.
The weather brightened as the day advanced. By noon the sky had broken
into lagoons of blue, with fine large clouds that rained here and there
upon the horizon and filled the air down there with broken shafts of
rainbow, like to windgalls, only that the colours were very sharp
and even glorious. There was now plenty of sunshine to give life and
splendour to the ocean, whose dye of azure looked the purer and more
sparkling for its cleansing by the great wind and rain and fire-bolts
of the past night. The swell of the sea was from the southward, no
longer a turbulent movement, but a regular respiratory action, with
weight and volume yet that made you think of the deep as a sentient
thing, with something of the violence of its hellish conflict yet
lurking in its rhythmic breathing.
About this hour a number of whales showed their black, wet backs at
the distance of a mile. The sunshine turned their spoutings into very
beautiful fountains, which fell in showers of diamonds and rubies and
emeralds; and their great shapes and solemn movements, with now and
again the dive of one with a breathless lingering of tail that showed
like a gigantic fan of ebony, or the rise of another, floating its
sparkling blackness above the violet fold of a brimming swell, as
though a little island had been hove to the surface by some deep-sea
convulsion, afforded Imogene and me some twenty minutes of very
agreeable diversion. The wind was a trifle to the southward of west, a
brisk breeze, and the ship swarmed and swirled and rolled along at a
speed of some five or six marine miles in the hour, every cloth abroad
and already dried into its usual dingy staring tones. But the pump was
worked without intermission. The clanging of the brake upon its pin,
the gushing of the bright water flowing to the scuppers and flooding
the deck thereabouts with every roll, the hissing of the slender
cascades over the side, grew into sounds as familiar as the creaking
of the bulkheads, or the cries of the rudder upon its ancient rusty
pintles.
Those pumping gangs made a strange, mysterious sight. They toiled, but
their labour was not that of living seamen who change their posture
again and again, who let go an instant with one hand to smear the
sweat from their brows or to bite an end of tobacco, who break into
choruses as they ply their arms or growl out curses upon this hardest
of marine tasks, or raise a cheerful call of encouragement one to
another. There was the same soullessness in this as in all else they
did. No dew was distilled from their death-like faces. Once at the
pump they never shifted their attitudes. A seaman of seventy, and
perhaps older yet, would work side by side with one of twenty years,
and at the end of the hour's labour--for each gang was relieved every
hour--the aged sailor would exhibit no more fatigue than the younger
one. Their aspects came out startlingly as they stood close together,
their countenances bearing expressions as undeterminable as the faint
smile or the dim frown of horror or the slumberous placidity on the
features of the dead; and never was the sense of the wild conjecture of
the Saracen's mad captain so borne into me as when I viewed one group
after another coming to this pumping business, and contrasted their
faces and perceived how every man--young, middle-aged and old--showed
in dreadful vitality the appearance he would have offered at the hour
of his death, no matter his years, had the Curse not stood between him
and the grave.
That afternoon, happening to be alone on the poop--I mean, without
Imogene--for when she was absent I was more alone, though the whole of
that ship's grisly company had gathered around me, than ever I could
have been if marooned on some mid-ocean rock--and listening a little to
the monotonous beat of the pump-gear, a thought came into my head and
I stepped over to Vanderdecken, who leaned upon the weather-rail, his
chin upon his hand.
"Mynheer," said I, "I ask your pardon for breaking in upon you. The
labour of pumping is severe--I know it from several stern experiences."
He lifted his head and slowly looked round to me. "This ship," I
continued, "has rescued me from death and proved an asylum to me. 'Tis
but right I should share in the general toil. Suffer me then, mynheer,
to take my turn at the pump with the others."
He eyed me a little with his wonderful fiery gaze, and answered: "It
is not necessary. Our company is numerous, there are hands enough.
Besides, sir, there is no urgency, the water doth not gain if it do not
decrease."
I bowed, and was leaving him, but he added: "I fear you have but an
imperfect knowledge of the character of the Dutch. Yet you tell me you
have often visited Rotterdam."
"It is true, mynheer, but only as a sailor liberated o' nights and
forced therefore to form his judgment on such company as the ale-house
supplies."
"That seems so," said he, "otherwise you would suspect from such
treatment as we have shown you that we regard you as a guest, and it is
not customary among us to use our guests as labourers."
I bowed again, contenting myself with merely thinking how, as a guest,
I went in fear of my life--to say no more. I thought, however, I
would use his seeming willingness to converse with me, and said in as
deferential a manner as I could command, "Sir, the mere circumstance
of my being your guest should properly teach me to believe that a time
must come when I shall have wearied your courtesy by imposing too great
a burden of my company upon it."
I paused, hoping he would make haste to assure me to the contrary; but
he did not speak, merely eyeing me steadfastly.
"You will therefore judge, mynheer," I continued, "that I am actuated
by no idle motive of curiosity in asking you whether your present
design is to steer the ship to a port?"
"To what port?" he exclaimed.
I told him I did not know.
"Nor I," said he. "What settlement is there on this seaboard? You do
not suppose that, with yonder pump going day and night, I should be
willing to head for any other point of the coast than the nearest bay
in which to careen and get at the leak?"
"Will that bay, mynheer," said I, still speaking with the utmost
modesty and deference, "be far distant?"
He answered: "It lies a few miles south of the parallel of thirty-four
degrees. To reach it we shall have to sail an hundred and eighty
leagues."
"Five hundred and forty miles!" I exclaimed, with an involuntary
dejected glance aloft and at the passing water. "At this rate of
progress, sir, the passage will occupy about five days."
Our gaze met as I said this and I observed a sudden fire in his eyes.
"Does the execution of any project you have in your mind depend upon
the time we will take in reaching the coast?" said he, with suspicion
sounding fiercely in the rich deep notes of his utterance.
I felt the blood in my face as I answered: "Mynheer, I have no project.
Methought, if you sailed to a port, you would rid yourself of my
company. I have been long in your ship; every day increases my sense
of trespass----" which said, I broke off, being really dismayed by
the passionate fixity of his regard. Such a searching for the heart
in one's face was unbearable. My imagination, perhaps my conscience,
imparted a wizard-like power to his burning eyes, and I felt that
if I lingered, I should be constrained into a revelation of my
intention to escape with Imogene, as certain birds are fascinated into
motionlessness and charmed to their devourment by the gaze of serpents.
With the abruptness of alarm I bowed and left him. As I walked I could
feel that his searching, scorching gaze followed me.
However, it was something to have found out our whereabouts, to have
gathered his intention, and to be able to calculate the time of our
arrival off the coast. On this I plumed myself, making pretty sure that
if my questions had caused him to suspect some project in my mind, his
memory would loose its hold of the thing after a few hours. But I was
mistaken, as you shall now see.
Whilst we were seated at the last meal, and with us in that Death Ship
formed of soup or wine for drink, and such victuals as remained from
dinner, I observed a peculiar air of distress and anxiety in Imogene's
face. I do not know that she made the least effort to disguise it.
A sharp gleam of resentment would sparkle in the soft violet depths
of her eyes as she now and then turned them on Van Vogelaar or
Vanderdecken, and then as they came to me they would soften into an
exquisite wistfulness that was very near to a look of grievous pain.
On the captain filling his pipe I went on deck and stood out of
sight of the cabin on the poop-front, wondering what Imogene's manner
signified. Presently she joined me.
The sun was gone down; the stars shone singly or in clouds of bright
dust over our northward-pointing bowsprit, and the air was soft and
faint with the delicate light of the moon that was drawing out of her
first quarter, and that could now rain her pearls with power into the
dark waters under her.
"What is amiss, dearest?" said I, taking her hand in mine, and moved
in a way I could not give expression to by the pallor of her face,
her eyes showing large and dark, the paleness of lip and hair and
throat--her whole countenance, yes and her figure too; stealing out
of their realness into an elfin-like unsubstantiality to the wan
complexion of the moon.
She answered: "Did not I tell you I was sorry you had questioned
Vanderdecken? He is full of suspicion, and there is always Van
Vogelaar at hand to exasperate his captain's temper and fancies by the
poison of his own reptile-nature."
"Has Vanderdecken spoken to you of my questions?"
"No," she replied. "What has happened is this:--Half-an-hour before
supper I was in my cabin. The air was close, and I put the door on the
hook and was near it combing my hair. Vanderdecken came into the cabin
and spoke to Prins. Soon afterwards Van Vogelaar entered, and told the
captain that he had been among the crew and informed them that he hoped
to make the coast in four or five days, and that on their arrival at
Amsterdam they would receive additional pay for their labour at the
pump. They talked a little, but I should not have heeded them had not
I suddenly caught the sound of your name. On this I left off combing
my hair and crept close to the door. Vanderdecken said: 'I believe he
hath some scheme. He shrunk from my gaze and the colour mounted to his
cheeks. He quitted me with the air of one whose conscience is like an
exposed nerve.'"
"Heaven defend us!" I exclaimed, "your true Dutchman is very fit to be
a hangman. Yet this unholy creature did certainly look at me to some
purpose. 'Twas time I walked off!"
She continued: "Van Vogelaar answered, 'I would not trust that man
further away from me than my hand could seize him. Skipper, I ask
your pardon, but was it wise, think you, to exhibit samples of the
treasure below to this Englishman? There is a noble fortune for him
in those chests could he but come at them. What sort of egg is that
which, beyond question, his mind is sitting upon, and that will be
presently hatched? He is eager to learn your intentions. He manifests
this eagerness in defiance of the contempt and anger with which you
have again and again crushed down his curiosity into the silence of
terror. Suppose he hath some plot to secure the stranding of this
ship; or that he intends her a mischief that shall force us to beach
and perhaps abandon her? He is a sailor and an Englishman; we are
Hollanders! Skipper, the like of that man needs no help from sorcery
to contrive our ruin.' Vanderdecken answered, 'He must be got rid of,'
in a voice that showed how Van Vogelaar's talk worked in him. I did
not need to look, Geoffrey, to know what sort of expression his face
wore. They were silent awhile. Vanderdecken then said: 'Twould be
mere barbarous, useless murder to take his life; there is no evidence
against him. But we have a right to protect ourselves since he hath
been mad and ungenerous enough to raise our suspicions----' Van
Vogelaar interrupted: ''Tis more than suspicion--'tis conviction with
me, skipper----' 'This occurs to me as a remedy,' said Vanderdecken:
'he must be set ashore before we sail; but he shall not be left to
starve. A musket and ammunition will provide him with food, and he
shall have a week's provisions. He is young, and with stout legs, and
cannot miss his way to our Settlement if he hold steadfastly to the
coast.' The mate said, 'Ay, that will be dismissing him lovingly.' They
then went to the other end of the cabin and talked, but I could not
hear them."
"It would be barbarous, useless murder," I cried, "to hang, or stab or
drown me, but kindness, nay, lovingness, to set me ashore with a week's
provisions and a fowling-piece, to give me a night to be torn to pieces
in by wild beasts, or a week to be enslaved by the Homadods, or a month
to perish of hunger! The villains! Is this to be their usage of me?"
"Geoffrey, if they put you on shore I will follow. The future that is
good enough for you is good enough for me. And, indeed, I would rather
die a hard death on shore than be left to miserably live with men
capable of cruelly destroying you."
I reflected a little, and said, "Their resolution keeps me safe for
the present, at all events. If I am to be marooned they will let me
alone meanwhile. Therefore I consider that their determination greatly
improves our chances.... No! there is nothing in their intention to
scare me. I like their meaning so well that our prayer to God must be
that Vanderdecken may not change his mind."
She was at a loss to understand me until I pointed out that, as I
gathered from her report, they would not send me ashore until just
before they were about to sail, so that I should have plenty of time to
look about me and consider the surest method of escaping, whilst the
ship was being careened and the leak repaired and the vessel in other
ways doctored.
"And, dearest," said I, "it has come to this with you, too: that sooner
than remain with these fierce and dreadful people you will take your
chance of that African coast you so greatly feared."
"I will share your fortune, Geoffrey, be it life or death--let come
what will," said she, nestling close and looking up at me out of the
phantom faintness of her face with her large eyes in whose liquid
darkness the moon was reflected in two stars.
"My precious one! I could not leave thee! If the terrors of the
shore--the fears of the savage, the wild beast, the poisonous
serpent--triumphed over your desire of escape, I would remain with
you, Imogene, if they would let me. 'Twould be a hard fate for us
both, dearest, to wear out our lives in this ship. But we cannot be
parted--not of our own will, at least, however God may deal with us,
or the knife or yard-arm halter of these villains. Wherever you are I
must be----"
"Yes!" she cried, passionately.
"It may not indeed come to our delivering ourselves by using the coast.
Another scheme is in my head, though of it I will say nothing, since
too much of fortune must enter it to fit it for cold deliberation. But
it may end in our escaping to the land and lurking there in hiding
till the ship sails. And it makes my heart feel bold, Imogene, to hear
you say that sooner than languish and miserably end your days in this
accursed fabric you will dare with me the natural perils of that shore."
And I say this: that had I been sure our life would prove the forfeit
of attempting to escape by the coast, I would have welcomed death
for her and myself sooner than live to think of her locked up in
this detested ship, passing the long horrid days in the society of
unearthly men condemned of Heaven, and stealthily weeping away her
heart at the thought of our severance.