great lady, an acknowledged leader of fashionable people, but she, so to
speak, put off her dignity. Betty was a clerk, but the other talked to
her as if it were important that both were flesh and blood.
"You don't altogether understand," Betty rejoined. "At the beginning I
did not want to keep Kit away from your sister."
"At the beginning! You imply you would have liked to keep him away
afterwards?"
"Something like that," said Betty quietly. "I saw Miss Brown was not the
girl for Kit."
Mrs. Austin used some control, for Betty's frankness was embarrassing.
"Yet you refused Kit Musgrave at Liverpool!"
"That is so," said Betty and the blood came to her skin. "I'm a clerk
and not beautiful like Miss Brown. I have no advantages and knew nothing
but my business until Mrs. Jefferson began to teach me. Kit's pay was
small; I thought it might be long before he got more and our poverty
would keep him down. A young man who marries on very small pay is badly
handicapped. Kit has some talent; I thought if he was free and lucky, he
might go far. Well, I saw I mustn't stop him, and I let him go."
Mrs. Austin was moved. Betty, like Kit, was naively sincere, and her
unselfishness was plain. It looked as if she loved Kit, but her love was
marked by something motherly and protective. In spite of this, however,
she was now sternly resolute.
"Since you do not approve Olivia, you ought to have been satisfied when
I helped Kit to get a post on board a ship that was not often at Las
Palmas like the _correillo_," Mrs. Austin remarked.
"I was not satisfied. All your thought was for your sister. You did not
trust Wolf, but you saw Kit trusted you, and you let him run a risk. So
long as he was not at Las Palmas, the risk did not matter. Wolf was the
cheat you thought. When he'd done with Kit he sold him and the others to
the French captain."
Mrs. Austin was surprised that Betty knew so much. Moreover, she was
beginning to get angry, because the girl's accusation was just.
"What do you know about Wolf's selling them? You did not see Kit before
he went off," she rejoined.
"I did not," said Betty and coloured. "He saw Miss Brown and did not
bother about me, but Mrs. Jefferson told me why he wanted the boat, and
I went to Don Erminio's."
She was quiet for a few moments and Mrs. Austin saw her shot had reached
its mark. Her mood changed and she was sorry for the girl; Betty had
pluck and was very frank.
"But you did not know where to stop," Betty resumed and her eyes
sparkled. "When Kit wanted to go back you lent him the _Cayman_. You
knew he was rash, but this did not count. You thought the Moors might
carry him off and you would get rid of him for good. Kit took the boat
and thanked you. Perhaps it's strange, but he had not found you out!"
Mrs. Austin's face got red and to keep her self-control cost her
something. She was, however, calm.
"Perhaps I can't persuade you I am not as selfish as you think, but you
are not altogether just," she said. "At the beginning I did send Kit to
Wolf, although I doubted the fellow. But I did not know the risk he ran.
Afterwards, when Kit wanted the _Cayman_, he had found me out."
She stopped for a moment, and smiled when she resumed: "In fact, Kit was
very angry, and his statements were like yours; he declared I had
planned to get rid of him. If it is much comfort, he will not trust me
again. Well, I did not want him at Las Palmas, but I did want to help. I
liked Kit, I liked his honesty; the young fellow is good stuff. We will
let this go. I did not willingly let him take the _Cayman_. He was
resolved to get the boat, and Kit is obstinate. He talked about my
plotting against him, because he meant to force me to agree, and when I
saw his losing his men weighed on him I did agree. That was all. I had
no object then but to see him out."
Betty was persuaded. It looked as if she had exaggerated Mrs. Austin's
unscrupulousness, but this was not important. She had come to fight for
Kit and the battle was not won.
"Anyhow, you are accountable," she urged. "You let Kit go and he has not
come back. Perhaps he's wrecked and hiding on the coast; perhaps the
Moors have carried him off. We must find out, you must send another
boat----"
She stopped, for Austin came up the steps and leaned against a post.
Looking about with a smile, he noted that Mrs. Austin's colour was
rather high. Betty was white and highly strung. She was obviously
embarrassed by his arrival, but looked resolute.
"You want us to send another boat to Africa, Miss Jordan?" he remarked.
"Well, on the whole, I think we must try to indulge you. If you will
wait a few minutes, I will go back with you and see Jefferson about it."
He went into the house and Mrs. Austin went after him. When he sat down
at a writing table, she stood opposite.
"Were you long in the garden?" she asked.
"Not long, but perhaps long enough," he replied. "I wanted to go round
by the back, but to pass through the kitchen might have excited the
servants' curiosity. To feel I must steal into my house was rather
ridiculous."
Mrs. Austin gave him a searching look. "Then you know the situation!
It's awkward, and I'll own my trust in my cleverness has received a
nasty knock. You see what I have done? I liked Kit, and he thinks I
cheated him. I like Betty and she hates me!"
"Perhaps Miss Jordan has some grounds for annoyance, but I wouldn't
exaggerate."
"I did want to keep Kit from Olivia," Mrs. Austin resumed. "Now he's
gone back, she'll think him a hero; his going _was_ rather fine. To
leave things alone would have been very much better."
"Meddling is sometimes risky," Austin agreed. "On the other hand, Olivia
is really not romantic, and I imagine she is weighing young Lockwood's
advantages."
"After all, Olivia's not very important, and perhaps Betty's argument
was justified. I am accountable for Kit's sailing on board _Cayman_, and
it's possible the Moors have carried him off. I'm not as hard as people
think. He must not get hurt."
Austin smiled soothingly. "Exactly! Somebody must go to look for him and
I'll try to engage a fishing schooner. The _Lucia_'s fast. Well, I'll
talk to Jefferson."
Mrs. Austin put her hand on his arm. "You're a very good sort, Harry.
I've done some foolish things, but you haven't yet let me down."
CHAPTER VII
THE "LUCIA" ARRIVES
Jefferson, sitting under a lamp in his office, smoked a cigarette and
studied Austin with quiet amusement. He knew his partner rather well and
thought him embarrassed; in fact, he thought Harry had some grounds for
embarrassment. Jacinta Austin was clever and Jefferson admitted he owed
her much; for one thing, he might not have married Muriel had not
Jacinta helped. Unfortunately, however, meddling was her habit, and
sometimes her clever plans made trouble. Jefferson thought she was sorry
she had not left Kit Musgrave alone.
"I guess we had better send the _Lucia_ across," he said, when Austin
stopped. "_Cayman_ cost a pretty good sum, and since she has not
returned it's possible she has driven ashore. I'd expect the Moors to
get busy about a stranded vessel, and on the South coast they're not
friends of ours."
"Your argument's plausible, Jake," Austin remarked. "For all that, I
imagine you really don't want to let me down."
Jefferson smiled. "Sometimes your imagination's pretty fierce. We're
merchants, and when you're up against a possible loss, to spend a small
sum in order to get your money back is a useful plan. There's another
thing. The _patron_ of the _Lucia_ knows all about catching _baccalao_,
but he stops there. You wouldn't leave him to handle an awkward job, and
the Moors are a treacherous lot. Then Revillon may blow in. You see
where I lead?"
"It's obvious. One of us ought to go, and the job is mine."
"I think not. You know the sea, but you're a steamboat man. I'm a
sailor."
Austin had from the beginning seen that Jefferson knew the part Jacinta
had played and knew he himself was accountable for his wife and meant to
pay her debts. Jake, however, would not admit this and had taken another
line. He was a very good sort, in fact, he was the best. Anyhow, he was
a sailor, and somebody must stop at Las Palmas.
"Very well," said Austin. "Don Erminio's house is shut, and I understand
his friends don't know where he's gone. Don Ramon has, no doubt, sent
him off. Sometimes the captain talks and I expect the _Commandancia_
folks are getting busy. Don Ramon doesn't want any complications before
his chief arrives. Well, suppose you bring Musgrave back?"
"I reckon you can leave it to Don Arturo," Jefferson replied. "If
Musgrave has got the men, the Spaniards will be glad he's put across an
awkward job. Political jealousies are pretty keen, and they have no use
for sending Spanish soldiers outside Spanish soil. However, if Kit has
put it across, Don Arturo will soon fix up things with the Commandante.
I'd back Don Arturo and his manager to bluff Revillon."
Austin agreed, and to agree was some relief. _Cayman_ was his and
Jefferson's boat, and he had thought Kit's using her might involve them
in some trouble with the government officers. Nevertheless, he must
support Jacinta, and Jake would support him.
A few moments afterwards the door opened and Betty came in. Jefferson
got up as if he meant to fetch a chair, but Betty did not advance. She
stood by the door, looking very slender, straight and white. Her face
was quiet and her mouth was firm, but her hands moved nervously.
Jefferson stood by his desk and waited. His manner was the manner he
would have used had a great lady come in, and Austin thought that after
all Betty owed Jacinta much.
"Are you going to send off a schooner in the morning?" she asked.
"It's possible. We were talking about it," Jefferson replied.
"You _must_ send a boat," said Betty firmly.
Jefferson said nothing, but looked at Austin, who knew he must be quiet.
"I don't know if I'm much use and perhaps I'm not," Betty resumed.
"However, if a boat does not sail, I'm going back to Liverpool." She
paused and added with a hint of strain: "I don't want to go."
"Thank you," said Jefferson. "Well, I allow we want you to stop. There's
another thing. I understand my partner kind of promised a boat would go.
Sometimes he's rash, but I feel I've got to see him out."
For a moment Betty turned her head, but when she looked up again she was
calm and businesslike.
"I am sorry I disturbed you," she said. "If you think I took a line your
clerk ought not to take, I will give up my post. However, you are
occupied with Mr. Austin, and we can talk about this again----"
She hesitated and the blood came to her skin. "I ought to have known you
would not refuse; I really did know, but speed's important," she added,
and went off.
"I reckon I ought not to have kept her in suspense," Jefferson remarked.
"Miss Jordan's modest, but she has grit, and grit like hers is fine.
Muriel is fond of her, and I think she is happy with us. At Liverpool
her luck was pretty bad, but if she couldn't bluff me, she was going
back. Well, if Kit Musgrave----"
He stopped and Austin, understanding his embarrassment, smiled. Olivia
was his relation, but he agreed that if Kit, for her sake, let Betty go,
he was a fool. Austin thought he saw what Betty's staunchness cost. The
girl was proud, but when she imagined Kit was in danger she conquered
her pride. She knew Jefferson knew something about Kit's infatuation,
and that her demand for help indicated that she loved him; but she did
not count this important. Austin thought that after all Betty's sense of
values was just.
For a few minutes he and Jefferson resumed their talk, and then started
for the port. They found the _Lucia_'s captain on board, and before long
all was ready for her departure in the morning.
In the meantime, Kit and _Cayman_'s crew were strenuously occupied.
After they had landed the ballast, cable and all heavy stores, they took
careful soundings in the boat and marked the best line to the pool by
bearings from the shore. Then, when the moon was new and high water at
about twelve o'clock one hot morning they launched the boat. For about
two hours there would be water enough to float _Cayman_ across the
highest sands, but if she did not reach the pool before the tide ebbed
much she would strike and stop for good. Since the ballast was landed,
sail could not be used and she must, if possible, be towed by the boat.
Kit, however, doubted. There was some wind and towing would be hard. He
thought they would soon be forced to kedge; to carry out a small anchor
and heave the vessel forward by the rope. Perhaps the worst was the sun
was nearly overhead.
The windlass clanked until the cable ran nearly straight up and down,
and Kit jumped into the boat. It was not his business, but flesh and
blood could not long bear the strain and all must work by turns. For a
minute or two they waited, and he looked about. The light on the sea
was dazzling, and one saw nothing but glittering lines of foam that
marked the turmoil on the sands. To tow _Cayman_ across the belt of
broken water looked impossible, but they must try, since kedging is slow
and time was short. Moreover, the shoals beyond the pool to some extent
broke the sea.
The _patron_ signalled, they got out the oars, and the boat went ahead.
She did not go far. The tightening rope jerked her back, under
_Cayman_'s bowsprit, and, when they pulled ahead again, fouled the oars.
Then the boat sheered off at an angle and they struggled savagely to get
her in line. _Cayman_ floated high above water, exposing her side to the
wind, and the steep swell rolled her about. Her progress was not even;
she advanced by awkward leaps, running up on the boat and a few moments
afterwards dragging her back. When her bows swung up Kit saw her copper
sparkle with reflections of green and gold, but one did not see it long.
The bows went down, the boat ran back, and the plunging bowsprit was
over his head. He heard the others' laboured breath and set his mouth
and rowed.
_Cayman_ was moving, but her progress was horribly slow. The men's
bodies were tense with effort and the muscles on their arms swelled in
knots. Their legs were braced like iron, and the sweat glistened on
their brown skin. Kit could not see properly, and was conscious of a
salt taste in his mouth. In the desert his lips had cracked and he
thought they bled. Perhaps he had torn them when he clenched his teeth.
The others rowed stubbornly, but he knew they could not keep it up.
They did not keep it up. The tightening rope fouled the steering oar,
the boat was drawn back, and when she struck _Cayman_'s bow a man fell
off his thwart.
His oar went in the water and when it was recovered the _patron_ signed
them to come on board. Miguel and two or three more jumped down and Kit
leaned slackly against the bulwarks. There was no shade, the hold and
cabin were unthinkably hot, but he saw the short, thin shadow the
mainmast threw across the deck had moved. This meant the sun had passed
its highest point and the tide was ebbing. He could not judge the
progress they had made. Astern, all was dazzling white and yellow. Foam
and sand melted in a blaze of colour. The _patron_ stood on the steering
gratings and his brows were knit. He said nothing, but Kit thought he
knew they could not tow her across.
After a time the _patron_ signalled, a small anchor plunged, the boat
came alongside, and Kit helped a fresh crew to put the kedge anchor on
board. To carry it ahead was easier than towing, but when they got back
they must break out the other anchor and then heave _Cayman_ up to the
kedge. To heave by hand was fastest, and for a few minutes the row of
men, singing hoarsely, strained and swung. Then the singing stopped,
their bodies got upright and went no farther back. The veins stood out
on their brown foreheads, but the rope would not come in. They hung on,
tense and rigid, unwilling to own that they were beaten.
Perhaps the wind had freshed, for _Cayman_'s plunges were sharper.
Without her ballast, she rolled and jumped ridiculously like a cork, and
now and then her heavy masts lengthened the swing, until it looked as if
she were rolling over. There was not much sea, but on the sands its
movement was horizontal; it rolled across the bottom, and for the ketch
to advance she must overcome its backward impulse.
The men took the rope to the windlass and laboriously hove the levers up
and down. Sometimes the drum would not turn; and then the sharp clink of
the pawls indicated that the rope came in. When she was over the kedge
all were exhausted, but the anchor must be dropped to hold the ground
they had won while the boat took the kedge another cable's length ahead.
When the mast was for a moment upright Kit looked at the shadow and saw
it had moved across another plank. He doubted if they could get across
the sand, although the men were doing all men could do. The strange
thing was, they held out in the scorching heat. But if they did get
across, their labour would not be finished, and Kit owned he shrank from
reloading the ballast. When they landed the iron, the sea carried the
boat ashore; when they brought it off she must be driven against the
rollers. Moreover, the work must be done with speed, because the
anchorage was unsafe. _Cayman_ had driven ashore and, if it blew hard,
might drive ashore again. She could not, without her ballast, beat for
open sea.
Somebody shouted and Kit saw an object on the horizon. It was like a
sail, but he was dull and his satisfaction was not keen. The other boat
would not arrive for some time, and if they did not reach the pool
before her, the ebbing tide would strand them on the bank. Although help
was perhaps coming, it might come too late. They must concentrate on
getting across, and trying to brace himself, he jumped into the boat.
The wind freshened and progress was slower, but the heat did not get
less. Kit's head swam, his arms were cramped, and the backward swing
with the oar badly hurt his side. To heave at the windlass levers was
worse, and he did not bother about the sail. Time was going and he
thought he felt _Cayman_'s keel touch bottom. Perhaps the sand was
uneven and she had crossed a hummock. He laboured mechanically, seeing
nothing but the lever he pulled up and down. All the same, he knew the
kedge warp came in, because the pawls clinked; if they stopped, the men
were beaten, and _Cayman_ would soon strike. Kit did not know the depth
of water the _patron_ got, but the sea was smoother, and this indicated
that the tide had sunk behind the shoals. In fact, Kit thought he saw
shining sand in the foam. All must brace up for a last effort.
The rope came in faster, as if the resistance slackened, and when the
kedge was carried out the men left the windlass and walked aft along the
deck with the rope. Somebody said there was good water under the keel,
the long pole the captain used for sounding hardly touched bottom, and
then did not touch.
"_Basta!_" he shouted; they made the rope fast, and Kit sat down on
deck.
A two-masted vessel came up the channel. The sweep of her slanted green
hull, outlined by curling foam, and her high, shining canvas were
beautiful, but Kit hardly glanced at her. He was exhausted, and leaning
against the bulwarks, he shut his eyes.
Soon afterwards, Jefferson jumped on board and stopped by Kit. Kit's
skin was burned, and crusted by salt and sand where the spray had dried.
His lips were cracked, and his torn hands bled. Getting an anchor out of
a plunging boat is awkward work.
"Hallo!" said Jefferson. "You look as if you had got up against it
hard."
Kit opened his eyes and smiled. "I think we have had enough."
Jefferson nodded. "We'll put you on board _Lucia_; they have rigged an
awning under the mainboom. We've got some ice and Pepe knows how to mix
a long, cool drink." He turned to the _patron_. "If there is much sea
next high water, you cannot ride to the kedge. I see you have landed the
best anchor."
The _patron_ said he had done so and Jefferson ordered his boat to the
bow.
"Let your men rest; the _Lucia_'s are fresh. But what about Miguel and
Juan, the mate?"
"They are in the forecastle, getting up another warp."
Jefferson gave Kit a smile. "You brought them back! We'll talk about it
again. I must get the anchor while there's water across the sand, and
will put you on board _Lucia_ before I start."
Kit went on board and got into a hammock under the awning. He thought
Jefferson's getting to work typical; Jefferson's habit was to work and
talk afterwards. Now he had arrived Kit was not going to bother. His job
was finished, and things went smoothly when Jefferson took control. Pepe
brought him a cool drink, and soon after he drained the glass he went to
sleep.
CHAPTER VIII
"CAYMAN'S" RETURN
Don Arturo and his party occupied a corner of the glass-roofed _patio_
at the Metropole. For the most part, the tourists had gone when Las
Palmas got hot, and the big hotel was nearly empty, but the cook and
manager had given the party's ten o'clock breakfast careful thought. The
company's cold stores were searched and the finest fruit in the island
was ordered. Don Arturo's hospitality was famous at Las Palmas, London
and Liverpool, and people talk about the feasts he gave. Pioneers of
colonial industry, imperialist politicians, and leaders of commerce met
at the table.
His guests at the Metropole were a high civil officer, Don Ramon, Austin
and the _Commandante de Marina_. The coffee, and cigars carefully sealed
in glass, were brought from the Caribbean coast in the company's
steamers, and grown for the presidents of South American republics; the
wine was made for the rulers of central Europe. As a rule Don Arturo's
hospitality was extravagant. Perhaps he found it paid, for he himself
was a plain business man and had known poverty. Yet, although a
merchant, he was something of a prince; when famous shipbuilders and
financiers crowded his waiting-room, he would stop to weigh a ship's
cook's complaint. His humblest servant might appeal direct to him. He
gave all audience, and his knowledge and justice were rather like Haroun
a Raschid's.
Now he looked thoughtful and gave Austin a quiet glance. "To some
extent, Wolf was your antagonist, but I don't see why you took a part in
my purser's African adventure."
"At the beginning I don't know that I did take a part," Austin said with
a smile. "Mr. Musgrave demanded my boat, and since I was not at home, my
wife indulged him. When I sent off the other vessel, my object was
mainly to get my money back."
"You imagine Musgrave's resolve to go was, so to speak, spontaneous?"
"I don't think he was _prompted_. Losing his men--in a sense, they were
your men--weighed on him. All the same, if he brings them back, I
imagine his going was lucky."
"It is lucky," the civil officer agreed. "The men are Spaniards and we
cannot leave them in the hands of the Moors, but to rescue them might be
difficult. Expeditions to Africa are not popular just now, and to send a
gunboat would embarrass the government."
The Commandante nodded. "One must reckon on the opposition newspapers,
and the Catalan radicals are very keen. Fresh trouble about Morocco
would start an outcry. If one could send a small party to negotiate, it
would be easier, but this might be dangerous; the Moors are disturbed
and threatening. To land an armed force would mean fighting and the
force must be strong. Besides, the Moors are cunning. It is possible
they have retired across our border."
"I understand the French captain has not lodged a formal complaint," Don
Arturo remarked.
"Captain Revillon is discreet," said the civil officer. "Had he seized
your ship with the guns on board, it would have been another thing."
"Well, I suppose you are satisfied that I was cheated? You take it for
granted that when my ship was chartered I did not know she would be
used for smuggling?"
"We know you and we know your manager," the officer replied with a
polite bow. "We doubted the man who chartered the ship, but until she
came back and he vanished we did not see his plan."
"On the surface, his plan was obvious," Don Arturo remarked rather
dryly. "For a time he carried on a risky business and then, when he saw
the risks were greater than he thought, resolved to get a quantity of
goods without proper payment. When he had got the goods and knew he must
soon be found out, he intrigued with the French and tried to get some
money from them. The ship was not his, and I imagine the last lot of
guns were worthless. It looks plausible."
"Yet you think this was not all?" the Commandante suggested.
"I am a merchant, not a politician," Don Arturo rejoined. "I have got
back my ship and am satisfied."
"You have some grounds for satisfaction. The ship carried guns for
rebels and Senor Musgrave was your servant as well as Wolf's. I think
this was a mistake, but Don Ramon has used much discretion, and we do
not doubt your honesty."
"In the meantime, my purser and the Spanish sailors have not returned.
What are you going to do about it?"
The Commandante lighted a cigar. "You must use patience. I think you see
the situation is awkward, and Wolf is not a common cheat. Your manager
knows much about our politics."
"I imagine Wolf's object was not altogether to earn money by smuggling
and robbing the Moors," Don Ramon agreed meaningly.
The officer shrugged. "It is possible. One cannot be altogether frank,
but there is some jealousy about the African coast, and a country we
know feels she is shut out. Well, we will imagine a ship flying the
Spanish flag is seized by a foreign gunboat, and French subjects are
killed by the guns she landed. Perhaps Spanish subjects are killed; it
is not important which. Then the ship is really British. Picture for
yourself the complications! When a dispute begins, who knows where it
will end?"
"In Spain, we are old-fashioned, and our justice is not British
justice," said the Commandante, whose face got very stern. "One is given
some discretion. If I could find Senor Wolf----"
"For a few days we must wait," the civil officer resumed. "Perhaps the
English _sobrecargo_ and our sailors will return. If they do not, we
must think---- But we will talk about something else."
They talked for some time and then a messenger arrived and gave Don
Ramon a note.
"It is from the office," he remarked. "The signals on the Isleta are
going. A schooner and a ketch come from the East."
"Ah," said Austin with a smile, "I reckoned on something like this. I
think the situation has arranged itself."
"You mean, the ketch is yours?" said Don Arturo.
"I expect she is the _Cayman_ and the other is the _Lucia_. It looks as
if Musgrave had got the men. Shall we cross the harbour and see the
boats arrive?"
The others agreed, for all were keen to get the news, and soon
afterwards they landed on the long mole, which, built of ponderous
concrete blocks, runs for some distance out to sea. The morning was
bright, the Trade-breeze fresh, and outside the shelter of the Isleta
head big foam-tipped combers rolled south. Shining spray blew about the
mole, and one felt the surges beat the massive blocks. The echoes of
the measured shocks rolled among the coal wharfs across the harbour.
Some distance off two sails broke the dazzling sweep of blue. They
slanted, plunged and almost vanished, but they got larger, and at times
when they crossed a comber's top Austin saw a dark line of hull. He knew
_Cayman_; no other boat about the islands carried a mizzen like hers.
Moreover, he thought he knew Kit Musgrave, and since Kit was coming
back, was persuaded he had brought the men. He admitted that Jacinta had
used Kit rather shabbily, and he meant, if possible, to make some
amends.
"What are you going to do about Musgrave?" he asked Don Arturo.
"If he is willing, he can stop with us. Are you interested in the young
fellow?"
"Musgrave is rather a friend of ours and has some useful qualities,"
Austin replied. "For example, he undertook a very awkward job because he
felt he ought. Then it's important that he has carried out the job. One
trusts a man like that and my business is growing----"
Austin knew when to stop. Since he had indicated that he knew Kit's
value and was willing to engage him, he had perhaps gone far enough. Don
Arturo smiled.
"If Musgrave has straightened out the tangle that bothers our Spanish
friends, he deserves a reward. However, I must think about it and study
the fellow. Sometimes to push on a young man fast is not an advantage."
Austin agreed, and when they reached the end of the mole noted that
Betty occupied the last large block. The spray tossed about her, and her
dress streamed in the wind. She did not see Austin; her eyes were fixed
upon the boats. Austin was not surprised that she was there. When
vessels approached the port, the look-out on the Isleta signalled to the
town, and clerks at the shipping office knew the flags. Advancing
carefully, he touched Betty's arm.
"The smaller boat is _Cayman_. I expect Kit's on board."
She turned and Austin saw her look was strained. "You don't know yet!
Unless the men are with him, Kit is not on board."
"I know Jefferson," said Austin, smiling. "He went to look for Kit, and
the larger boat's the _Lucia_. You see what this implies? I'm using your
argument."
In the meantime, a crowd had begun to gather. Men from the fishing
vessels and women with black clothes and black shawls pushed towards the
end of the mole. Some talked and gesticulated; some were quiet, and
their dark faces were inscrutable like the Moors. All kept back a little
from Don Arturo's party, and the Commandante studied them with languid
interest.
"If their friends do not arrive, I think we shall have a
_demonstration_," he remarked to the civil officer. "We know Don Ramon
is discreet, and I gave the _Diario_ a useful hint, but it looks as if
the people knew the story we meant to keep dark."
"At Las Palmas nothing is long kept dark," Don Ramon replied. "I have
used some caution, but one cannot stop Don Erminio talking. It is
frankly impossible!"
The officer shrugged. He was a _Peninsular_ from Madrid. "In a few
minutes, perhaps, your islanders will curse the government and throw
stones at us. But a demonstration is not important, and at Barcelona
they use bombs and knives----"
He stopped, for the vessels were not far from the mole. _Lucia_ led. Her
high white canvas was sharply inclined and her hull listed until the
foam leaped about her rail. One saw her keen bows swing and cleave the
frothy seas. She was beautiful and strangely swift, for there are no
finer schooners than the Canary coasting fleet. Three or four small
figures began to run about her deck, the big gaff-topsail tilted,
fluttered and came down; a jib was lowered and the ketch behind her
forged ahead. Austin smiled and left the others, for he was now
altogether satisfied Jefferson was on board. Jake was a chivalrous
fellow.
"All has gone well," he said to Betty.
"But you cannot see the people yet. It's too far."
"We saw _Lucia_'s topsail hauled down," Austin rejoined.
Betty's eyes sparkled. "You mean, they want to let Kit make the harbour
first? Well, that's like Mr. Jefferson!"
"Jefferson's a good sort," Austin agreed. "Anyhow, I rather think Kit
deserves his triumph."
_Cayman_ did not shorten sail. Her topmast bent to leeward, her outer
jib was wet, and when she plunged, her straining bowsprit sank into the
sea ahead. Her deck was sharply slanted; one saw her copper glimmer
green, and now and then a fathom of the metal swung out of the foam. A
tattered red and yellow flag, hard like a board, blew from her mizzen
gaff; she leaped across the white seas as if her _patron_ felt he
carried important news.
The news was important. On the mole, people who did not know Kit and
Jefferson waited with keen suspense. They could not yet see the faces of
the crew and tried to count the figures, but the men moved about. Some
got the anchor ready and some threw down coils of rope. Then, listing to
a gust that buried her lee rail, _Cayman_ drove past the end of the mole
and the crowd began to shout.
"_Ambos! Los veo!_ They have brought them both!"
Betty thrilled. Her heart beat and her eyes were wet. She was moved by
keen emotion, and for a moment she had seen Kit. Then _Cayman_ went
about and he was hidden by the swinging canvas. She came up to the wind
again. Jibs and topsail ran down, she stopped, and the anchor splashed.
People shouted and pushed towards the landing steps.
_Cayman_'s boat was lowered. Betty saw Kit, Macallister and some others
jump on board. The boat pulled for the steps and the crowd surged along
the edge of the mole. When the boat stopped, hats were thrown up, and
Betty knew in Spain one throws one's hat to the _maestro_ after a great
exploit in the bull-ring. Hoarse shouts pierced the rumble of the sea.
"_Viva el Yngles! Buen' muchacho! Viva el Senor Jefferson._"
CHAPTER IX
KIT'S REWARD
On the morning after their arrival, Kit and Macallister went to the
Metropole. Macallister wore a neat blue uniform, a cap with the
company's badge, and spotless white deck-shoes. His talk was careless
and now and then his eyes twinkled. Kit's look was moody, and he wore
plain duck clothes. He did not know if he was the company's servant and
rather thought he was not; Don Arturo had sent for him, and he was
probably going to be dismissed.
When they went up the drive to the big square hotel Macallister looked
about.
"Don Arturo's a great man, but he has no' much eye for beauty," he
remarked. "When his architect built the Metropole his model was a block.
Maybe the cube style's economical. We get the maist room inside wi' the
least span o' wall, but if I was a Spaniard, I'd make a bomb and blow up
the ugly thing."
He stopped and putting his head on one side studied the hotel. "Bulk has
value, if it's properly relieved. The old Greeks kenned; they used the
square but they broke the line wi' pillars and cornices. Maybe, if ye
worked in two, three mouldings and ran a _loggia_ along the front----"
"I didn't know you were an architect," Kit said impatiently.
"Ye dinna ken a' old Peter's talents," Macallister rejoined with a grin.
"Architecture's useful and man has done fine work in stone, but for a
pattern o' lightness, strength and beauty ye'll need to take a modern
steel steamship. She must bear strains and stresses ye dinna bother
aboot on land. A town hall, for example, is no designed for plunging
through a steep head sea. Man! wi' a rule and a scriber, I'd design ye a
better building than yon hotel."
Kit frowned and pulled out his watch. "Don Arturo is waiting for us."
"Just that! He stated eleeven o'clock. There was no inquiry aboot my
convenience. Maybe the head o' a big steamship line likes to command,
and deck officers touch their hats and run, but when ye send for an
engineer ye use some manners."
Kit said nothing and started for the hotel. He was not an engineer, and
at the Liverpool shipping office had been drilled to prompt obedience.
The clerk, however, told him to wait and sent a page with Macallister to
a room above.
"You are some minutes late," said Don Arturo, indicating a chair.
Macallister noted that the open window commanded the front of the hotel.
In fact, when he stopped to criticise its architecture he imagined his
stopping might be remarked.
"Three minutes, sir," he admitted, pulling out a black-metal watch. "On
board a Spanish ship breakfast's no' very punctual."
Don Arturo knew something about Macallister; moreover he knew his type.
Sometimes one may bully a merchant captain, but not a Scots engineer.
"You left your ship without leave," he said. "Are you willing to state
your grounds for breaking the company's and the British Board of Trade's
rules?"
"To begin with, the ship was Spanish for the time," Macallister
rejoined. "Had there been work for me on board I might have stopped, but
the captain was sick and the office had no use for the boat. Then I
reckoned Mr. Musgrave might need me in Africa. In a sense, his business
was the company's."
Don Arturo pondered. It looked as if Musgrave had staunch friends, but
this was not important. He saw the engineer was not at all embarrassed.
"Mr. Musgrave has pairs," Macallister resumed. "For a' that, he's young
and had undertaken a verra awkward job. I thought he needed a man o'
sound judgment, in fact, a man like me."
"So you stole away and went with him? If this is an example, I don't
know that your judgment is very good, but I'm curious about your
adventures."
Macallister instinctively felt for his pipe. Don Arturo glanced at the
pipe and pushed across a cigar box. The cigars were packed in glass, but
Don Arturo was a great merchant and sometimes indulged his humour. It
was plain the other rather thought himself his guest than a servant who
deserved a reprimand.
"Thank you," said Macallister coolly. "Weel, if ye'll no' be bored----"
He narrated his journey up the wady and the encounter with the Moors,
but gave Kit the leading part. Macallister had some talent for
story-telling and used no reserve. When he talked about their interview
with the chief Don Arturo stopped him.
"Your carelessness with the pistol might have cost your party much," he
said.
Macallister smiled. "It might have cost the headman mair!"
"That's obvious," said Don Arturo, with a touch of impatience. "But
suppose the bullet had struck him? You don't imagine his people would
have let you go?"
"It's no' altogether obvious, until ye understand. When she exploded I
put my finger on the magazine. There was another cartridge. Had the
headman moved when I went up til him---- He didna move; he was wooden.
I'm thinking he kenned the magazine wasna empty."
"But you gave him the pistol?"
"Just that!" said Macallister. "Maybe the experiment was rash, but I was
justified. Yon Moor was proud and his nerve was good."
Don Arturo thought the engineer's was better and, allowing for the
strain, his judgment was strangely quick and accurate. He did not doubt
the tale; he knew much about his servants, and when some boiler tubes
had burst----
"For all that, I don't see how you persuaded him to release the men," he
said.
"Mr. Musgrave persuaded him. His argument was good, though it wasna
altogether his argument, but himself. The lad's honesty was plain. The
Moor couldna doubt him, although he might ha' doubted you or me."
"Sometimes frankness pays," Don Arturo remarked with a twinkle. "What
argument did Musgrave use?"
"His master had gone, naebody would ransom us and the ithers, and we had
naething worth the stealing. It carried weight, but no' a' the weight.
The Moor was a robber, but in the desert he was a kin' of prince, and a
prince cannot be shabby. Mr. Musgrave, wi' two, three ragged sailors and
a very old gun, had come seeking him. The thing was a joke, but I reckon
the Moor saw the joke was fine. He was a proud man and he let the
sailors go."
Don Arturo mused. He was not romantic, but, like the Moor, he was
sometimes generous. He pictured the little drama in the sands; the
English lad's naive honesty, and the dark Moor's reserve. The tale was
moving, and he was forced to approve the part his servants had played.
But other business waited.
"Well," he said, "you have talked about Musgrave, but I don't know that
you have yet justified your leaving your ship."
"I dinna ken I tried," Macallister rejoined. "When I'm wanting it, I can
get anither post, but I doubt if ye could get an engineer like me."
"It's possible I could not," Don Arturo admitted with some dryness.
"Well, if you can satisfy Don Ramon, you may go back on board, and now
you might send up Mr. Musgrave."
Macallister went off, smiling, but when Kit entered he was highly
strung, since he expected to be told he must give up his post. He looked
worn, for fatigue and strain had left their mark. Don Arturo looked very
business-like, and his watch was on the table.
"Mr. Macallister has given me some particulars about your exploits and I
have not much to ask," he said. "To begin with, when the French gunboat
chased you, why did you resolve to land the guns?"
"I don't altogether know, sir," Kit replied. "It was plain Wolf's agent
had sold us and it looked as if he had cheated the Moors. They had paid
for goods they would not get, and although Yusuf made the bargain, in a
sense, they dealt with me."
"You felt your business was to deliver the goods?"
"Something like that, sir," Kit said awkwardly. "Then, since Wolf had
engaged to land the guns, I thought we could best baffle him by carrying
out his engagement."
Don Arturo saw the ironical justice that marked Kit's counterplot, but
he said dryly, "I expect you knew you risked my ship?"
"I knew this afterwards; when the gunboat steamed up I couldn't weigh
the risk. I didn't know how much Captain Revillon knew, and if he could
seize the ship had we thrown the guns overboard. It was obvious he
could not seize her if we crossed the shoals. The water was not deep
enough for him."
"We'll let it go. Why did you return for the men?"
"I thought the job was mine, sir. I was the company's servant, and the
captain was injured. If I'd told my story at the office and the
_Commandancia_---- But you can see the obstacles!"
Don Arturo nodded. "I imagine I do see. You thought you could handle the
thing better than Don Ramon and the Spanish officers? Rather a bold
claim, was it not?"
"They'd have been embarrassed by difficulties that did not bother me,"
Kit replied with some hesitation. "I thought speed and quietness
important; the plan was to steal off and get to work."
He had stood in front of the table, but Don Arturo now indicated a
chair.
"On the whole, I think your plan was good. All the same, if you stop
with us, you must run no more risks like that. Your business is to carry
out the company's orders."
Kit's heart beat, for his relief was keen. "Then I may go back, sir?"
"You will not go back on board the _correillo_, but Don Ramon is sending
_Mossamedes_ to Cuba and has a post for you. At sea, your duties will be
a purser's; at the Cuban ports you will be the company's agent. All the
cargo is not sold and you will negotiate with the merchants. The post
carries better pay, but Don Ramon will give you particulars. I believe
Mr. Macallister will join the ship, and the _correillo_'s captain takes
command."
Kit had not thought Don Arturo meant to promote him, and the blood came
to his skin.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'll try----"
Don Arturo smiled and looked at his watch.
"If you carry out your new duties with the resolution and honesty that
marked your dealings with the Moors, I expect we shall be satisfied. In
the meantime, they want you at the office."
Kit started for the office. He was promoted, and although his promotion
was perhaps not marked, he thought the head of the line had studied him
and meant to help his progress. Moreover, his supposition was accurate.
Soon after Kit had gone a page brought up Austin, and Don Arturo
remarked: "I have just given Musgrave rather a better post."
"Then I expect he will make good. If he had joined me, I'd have given
him the best post I'd got."
"Musgrave's friends believe in him," Don Arturo replied. "But we must
remember that caution is sometimes useful and the lad is young. I would
sooner his promotion was gradual. But we have something else to talk
about."
In the meantime, Kit went to the office and afterwards to a bench in the
_alameda_. His post was better than he had thought, and he felt he had,
so to speak, made a start. If he satisfied the company, he might go
ahead fast, and this was important because it was bound up with
something else. Since he saw Olivia he had pondered, and now he reviewed
his efforts and ambitions. It was getting plain that when he fell in
love with Olivia and tried to force himself above his proper level he
was rash. She had refused him and, from her point of view, she was
justified, but in a sense, his proposal was not regular, and he had
declared if his fortunes mended, he would renew it in proper form. He
owed Olivia this; the strange thing was he was rather conscious of his
duty than keen.
To begin with, he must see Mrs. Austin, since he now meant to keep the
rules. She was at home and when she received him he said: "You know we
got the men, and I must thank you for lending me _Cayman_ and sending
the schooner. If she had not arrived, I doubt if we could have brought
_Cayman_ home."
"Oh, well!" said Mrs. Austin, "to find you have forgiven me is some
relief, but after all I don't deserve your thanks. You see, Miss Jordan
sent the other boat!"
"Betty sent the _Lucia_?" Kit exclaimed.
"She bullied me and declared I had not used you well. While we talked
about it my husband arrived and rather agreed with Betty's argument.
Nevertheless, I imagine she doubted us, because soon afterwards she
bullied Jefferson. She stated that if he did not go to your rescue, she
would give up her post."
Kit coloured, and Mrs. Austin was amused by his embarrassment.
"Perhaps I did not use you well," she resumed.
"From the beginning you were very kind," Kit broke out. "When I last saw
you, I talked like a hot-tempered fool. I didn't see all I owed you, I
meant to force you to lend me the boat. The strange thing is, I hadn't
thought about Betty; but it was really she who helped. Betty is like
that----"
He was quiet for a moment or two, but Mrs. Austin waited and he went on:
"Well, I have done what I undertook, and Don Arturo has given me a
better post. Perhaps the post is not very good, but I am going to ask
Olivia if, when I have made some progress, she will marry me."
"Do you expect me to approve? Or do you feel I ought to know your
plans?" Mrs. Austin asked.
"I think I want to be honest," Kit replied, rather dryly.
Mrs. Austin smiled. "Your honesty is obvious. Well, I don't know that I
would approve, but if you can persuade Olivia, I'll try to be resigned."
"You don't expect I can persuade her?"
"Perhaps I don't. Do you?"
"I do not," said Kit. "For all that, I'm going to use some effort."
"You are an obstinate fellow," Mrs. Austin rejoined. "However, you will
understand my not wishing you good luck. In fact, I rather think you
don't know your luck!"
Kit went off. He was puzzled. Sometimes Mrs. Austin's remarks did puzzle
him, but he began to see a light. But the light was dim. Full
illumination had not yet come.
CHAPTER X
OLIVIA'S REFUSAL
After the five o'clock _comida_ Kit went to Jefferson's office. There
was no use in returning to Mrs. Austin's, because it was an evening she
received her friends, and Olivia would be surrounded by the guests.
Besides, he wanted to see Betty. He had not seen her yet, for when he
went to the office she was occupied with Jefferson, and he did not know
she had watched his arrival from the mole.
The room behind the arch was shady. A little cool breeze shook the
curtain and one smelt heliotrope. Kit noted the smooth polished floor,
the even rows of black boxes, and the neatly-sorted documents on the big
writing table. Tidiness is not the rule in Spain, but all was neat where
Betty was about. Betty herself wore a plain white dress, and Kit thought
she looked cool and businesslike. Turning her revolving chair, she gave
him her hand with a friendly smile.
"I was very glad to know you had got back," she said.
"If you had not sent Jefferson we might not have got back yet."
"I expect you have seen Mrs. Austin, but you mustn't exaggerate," Betty
said calmly. "When you forced her to lend you _Cayman_, she knew she was
doing what she ought."
"I imagined I forced her; now I doubt. She is kind and it looks as if
I'm not as clever as I thought. Anyhow, I didn't force her to send the
other boat; if force was needed, you did that. When the _Lucia_ arrived
we were worn out, but all the ballast must be brought off through the
surf. It had been calm unusually long, we knew the wind would soon come,
and if it blew fresh before we got the big anchor on board, _Cayman_
would be wrecked. I hardly durst think about the job."
"You had a bad time, Kit?"
"Perhaps I got as good a time as I deserved. When I arrived from
Liverpool I was very raw, but didn't know my rawness. People indulged
me, and I went ahead, satisfied I could pull off all I undertook. I
didn't know I was used and cheated; no doubt Wolf and Yusuf laughed!
They'd got a dull, self-confident simpleton to play their crooked game.
Well, in a way, perhaps, it was lucky I lost the men. I began to see my
level."
Betty mused. She rather liked Kit's humiliation. Perhaps it was
extravagant, for his rash return to Africa was very fine. Although his
venture looked hopeless, he had gone. The strange thing was, when at
length he saw Wolf had cheated him, he did not see another had done so.
Betty wanted to warn him, but knew she must not.
"You were sincere and nothing you did was shabby," she said. "Perhaps
your luck was bad, but this is not important. You didn't think about
yourself; you were not daunted----"
"I was daunted," Kit declared. "When I landed from _Cayman_ and started
for the desert with three or four sailors, I wanted to run back to the
boats. You see, the thing was ridiculous. All my fine romantic plans had
led to this. However, we'll let it go. You're staunch and you helped me
out. Now, when I'm hipped and moody you let me talk. I doubt if you know
what a very good sort you are."
Betty gave him a level glance. She was moved and calm was rather hard,
but calm was plainly indicated.
"Come in again when I'm not engaged, because I must send you off," she
said. "Jefferson goes to Orotava with Mrs. Jefferson in the morning and
some accounts must be made up before he starts." She paused and added:
"I think Mrs. Austin and Miss Brown mean to join Mrs. Jefferson."
Kit went off. It was strange, but Betty's news was something of a
relief. After all, if he did not see Olivia in the morning, he need not,
for some time, resign himself to her refusal. She would, no doubt,
refuse him, and he wondered whether his shrinking from the jolt
accounted for his moodiness. Perhaps the moodiness was not logical, but
he was moody. It would have been much better had Betty not refused him
at Liverpool. Betty was his sort and had she loved him he would not have
been carried away by Olivia. Of course, Betty was justified; she knew
his drawbacks, but from Olivia's point of view, he had others. But in
spite of this, after his rash talk in the _alameda_, he must ask her to
marry him. Mrs. Austin knew he was going to do so, and she had smiled.
In the morning he was forced to go to the office, and when Don Ramon
sent him off he saw the _correillo_ start for Teneriffe. A clerk told
him Mrs. Austin and Miss Brown were on board, but a few days afterwards
Kit thought his luck was good. _Mossamedes'_ cargo arrived slowly and
Don Ramon resolved to send a schooner to Orotava for a load. Kit got
leave to go, and one evening landed on the lava mole.
The evening was calm and light mist floated about the shoulders of the
Peak. The long swell broke in sheets of foam, but its beat was slow and
languid echoes rolled about the valley. One smelt oleanders and orange
flowers. When Kit went up the path to the hotel his look was thoughtful.
He wondered whether Mrs. Austin had an object for leaving Las Palmas;
but he was going to see Olivia. To know he was refused was better than
suspense. Anyhow, he must ask her in proper form, and she must decide.
If she would not frankly acknowledge him her lover, she must let him go.
His luck held good, for he found her on a bench behind a tall geranium
hedge. Olivia wore a black evening dress with yellow bands, and in the
background the red geraniums shone. Kit knew she liked colour, but
somehow he was jarred. Olivia was strangely beautiful; one could not see
her a poor man's wife.
She looked up and a touch of red came to her skin. Kit thought her
surprised and perhaps a little startled, but this was all. He himself
was very sober and looked rather grim.
"Kit!" she said. "When did you arrive?"
"I landed not long since from a schooner. The company sent me to buy
onions."
Olivia laughed. "You are dreadfully unromantic, but perhaps you thought
you had better state your object! Have you bought the onions?"
"Not yet. I wanted to see you first. Sometimes I am romantic. It might
be better if I were not."
"Well, perhaps romance cheats one now and then," Olivia rejoined,
smiling. "But we won't philosophise. If you had arrived two or three
minutes since, you would have seen Jacinta."
"I saw Mrs. Austin the afternoon before you sailed," said Kit. "I told
her I was going to ask if you would marry me."
Olivia turned, rather quickly, and gave him a level glance. "Oh, well! I
knew your pluck. But what did Jacinta remark?"
"She laughed," Kit replied with some dryness. "Nevertheless, she
declared if you were willing----"
"Jacinta is not often rash. I expect you doubted my willingness, but
after your extravagant talk in the _alameda_, you felt you ought to
ask."
Kit coloured, but his mouth was rather hard and his look was steady. "I
did feel something like that. In the _alameda_ you were amused and your
amusement hurt. I was carried away, but I wanted you. Well, I said if I
brought back the men and got another post---- I did bring back the men
and have got a better post."
Olivia stopped him, but her look was gentler. "Your venture was very
fine, Kit. I was proud of you, and if anything could have moved me----
But I'm not your sort."
"You are the most beautiful girl I have known," Kit declared.
"Yet you're a Puritan and ought to know beauty isn't all; I think you
really do know. Well, I won't marry you, Kit. We would risk too much.
People think me romantic, but I'm not. In fact, I'm cold and very
practical. It looks as if we had changed parts and you were the
sentimentalist."
"I loved you," Kit said quietly.
"I know," Olivia admitted. "It counted for much. Perhaps I liked you to
love me; I own I'm selfish. But your poverty wasn't altogether the
drawback. You're sober and quiet; I'm theatrical. I like the middle of
the stage; I want colour, movement, and the leading part. It's plain
that we would jar."
Kit frowned. He saw Olivia was firm, and saw, rather vaguely, that her
firmness was wise. In a sense, she was theatrical. Red geraniums,
oleanders and scented orange flowers were her proper background. Olivia
belonged to the South. Perhaps it was strange, but he pictured Betty in
her neat, cool office. Betty wore white clothes, sometimes with a touch
of the soft virgin blue. She stood for the reserve and staunchness of
the bracing North. But he had asked Olivia to marry him.
"If you were persuaded we would jar----" he said and stopped.
Olivia smiled, but her smile was kind. "You are trying to be nice, but
you want to know why I let you go on? Well, you were a new type. You
were fresh and sincere, and sometimes very obstinate. The others
indulged me; you did not. You had qualities I liked; perhaps because
they were not mine. Then romance called and sometimes I began to think I
might take the plunge, but I hesitated. I valued all I must give up and
I have not your pluck----"
She paused and gave Kit a quiet glance. "Well, I'm sorry, but you ought
to be grateful I was not rash. Although you're a very good sort, you are
not my sort. I could not use your rules, and you would not use mine. You
must let me go and marry somebody brave and honest----"
She got up and Kit heard steps on the path.
"Some of the people from the hotel," she said. "Will you come and see
Jacinta?"
"I think not," Kit replied and forced a smile. "My business is to buy
onions and I must get to work."
Olivia gave him her hand. "Perhaps I was shabby. In all you do, I wish
you good luck!"
She went to meet the others, and Kit went down the path. He was hurt,
but he had braced himself beforehand, and the hurt was less than he had
thought. Moreover, he knew Olivia's arguments were good. He loaded the
schooner and soon after he returned to Las Palmas Jefferson came to look
for him on board _Mossamedes_.
"If you're not altogether satisfied with the post Don Arturo gave you,
another could be got," he said. "A Spanish company is going to run two
or three small, fast boats to the islands and wants an agent. I've been
asked to find out if you would undertake the duties?"
"I'm not a Spaniard," Kit replied. "Why do they offer me the job?"
"I rather think it is a reward. In Spain, government approval pays, and
perhaps the new company got a hint. It's possible the Las Palmas
officials feel they owe you something, but can't openly acknowledge your
services. However, I'd better state the duties and pay."
When Kit knew the pay he lighted a cigarette and pondered. Then he said,
"The offer's good, but I can't take the post. For one thing, I've
engaged to go to Cuba for Don Arturo."
"The office would release you."
"I think that is so," Kit agreed. "All the same, I undertook the job;
and there's another thing. I'm young and begin to see I'm rawer than I
thought. In fact, I've begun to know my proper level and where I really
belong. Not long since I got a nasty knock and for a time I'm going
slow. Perhaps I may go higher, but when my chance comes I mean to be fit
for the better job."
Jefferson nodded. "On the whole, I reckon your plan is good, and we'll
let the agency offer go." He paused and resumed: "You were across at
Teneriffe. Did you make Orotava?"
"I did," said Kit, with a smile. "I saw Miss Brown and asked her to
marry me. She would not, but now I can think about it calmly, I see she
took a very proper line."
Jefferson said nothing, and soon afterwards went to his boat. For all
that, he approved Kit's philosophy. Musgrave could take a knock and was
good stuff. Jefferson thought the head of the line knew his value, and
Kit would presently find his sticking to the post he took would pay.
CHAPTER XI
DAYBREAK
_Mossamedes_ sailed from Cuba for Buenos Ayres, and on the ocean voyage
Kit enjoyed more leisure than he had known for long. When the sea was
calm and the ship steamed steadily across the shining swell, he lounged
under the awnings and gave himself to thought. Perhaps it was strange,
but he began to see that at Las Palmas he had hardly thought at all.
Events, so to speak, had followed each other fast; he had let himself go
and was carried along.
Now he could ponder quietly, he sometimes frowned. He had not done much
that he had meant to do and had no grounds for satisfaction, but when he
thought about Olivia he was calm. Olivia did not belong to his circle,
and he now admitted that he could not enter hers. Even if he became
rich, the thing was impossible. She liked, and in fact demanded,
excitement, power, and a leading part; he liked to go soberly and do
something useful. When she refused him she took the proper line, and he
owed her and Mrs. Austin much. They had given him a wider view and
helped him to conquer his aggressive priggishness. Then perhaps he had
captured something of their cultivation; anyhow they had taught him to
tolerate people who jarred.
For the most part, however, his thoughts dwelt on Betty; Betty in the
primrose wood and in the shady office with the blue curtains. Betty was
sober and quiet; when one was with her, one's mean ambitions vanished.
Yet she was hopeful and never daunted. She looked ahead with steady eyes
and held fast to all she knew was good. Like Olivia, she had refused
him, but while he was resigned to Olivia's refusal, he knew he was a
fool to let Betty go. Sometimes he wondered----; and then got up
impatiently and went off to study his manifests. There was no use in
brooding, and he durst not look forward yet. In the meantime, his job
was to see all was ready for unloading cargo when _Mossamedes_ reached
port.
At Buenos Ayres, he and Don Erminio stopped one hot afternoon in front
of an Italian cafe in a quiet square. Small tables occupied the pavement
in the shade, and Don Erminio ordering wine and ice and aerated waters,
mixed them in a bowl.
"It is not like _tinto granadilla_ and snow from the Peak when one has
eaten much salt fish," he said. "However, to a seaman, all wine is good,
and if Don Pedro were with us we would dance. But let us be happy, and
if I go to sleep you will carry me on board."
Kit was satisfied Macallister had not joined them. He was strenuously
occupied scaling the boilers, and when Kit left _Mossamedes_ strange
bi-lingual threats and exclamations echoed about her stokehold. By and
by Don Erminio began to glance about.
"_Vaya!_" he said. "Look at him! Now perhaps we can amuse ourselves. I
will talk to the animal."
He got up, and carrying the bowl of wine, crossed the pavement. A man in
white clothes occupied a chair at another table, and when he looked up
Kit saw it was Captain Revillon. Kit had noted a small French cruiser at
anchor in the roads.
"_Ola, senor!_ All sailors are friends," said Don Erminio. "Besides,
this bowl is large and my companion is sober and very dull. The wine is
not Spanish, but it will go, and when I drink your wormwood, in the
morning my throat is bad."
Revillon bowed and let him fill his glass, and Don Erminio resumed in
uncouth French: "We took you, my friend, that time on the Morocco
coast!"
"It looks like that," Revillon replied, with a touch of dryness. "Still
I do not see why you risked crossing the shoals. You had, no doubt,
thrown the guns overboard."
Don Erminio indicated Kit, who had joined him. "He is a boy, but very
obstinate. The English are obstinate and the Scots are worse. Me, I
know. Well, his bargain was to land the guns, and they were landed."
"Then, I think you did take me," Revillon remarked with a quick,
surprised glance. "Had I known----"
Kit was intrigued. He had sometimes wondered why Revillon had not looked
for _Mossamedes_ in the morning. The coast was dangerous and the gale
was fresh, but he had thought this did not account for all.
"The animal who loaded the ship sold us," said Don Erminio. "If you paid
him, you did not get much for your money."
Revillon drained his glass and smiled. "Your betrayer did not demand a
large reward; perhaps he expected to be paid in another way. However,
now it is done with, I may tell you something. To begin with I did not
trust Senor Wolf, although I knew the guns were on board and must not be
landed. To force you to throw them overboard would satisfy me."
"Was it not your duty to stop and search our ship?" Kit asked.
"In a sense, it was so. In fact, I think the man who sold you expected
me to seize her," Revillon agreed with some dryness. "Well, I followed
you and steered a course that would pin you against the shoals. I had
studied the chart and pilot book, and nothing indicated that a vessel
could get across." He paused and shrugged. "Well, what would you have? I
imagined the guns were overboard and you had run aground. My duty was
not to wreck my ship. I hauled off the coast."
"They have given you a larger vessel!" Don Erminio remarked meaningly.
"I wish you luck. All sailors are honest, but not many are discreet. The
politicians are animals, and I would drown the lot. Well, it is not
important now, and the wine is gone."
Kit began to understand. Revillon had not been cheated; he was not very
keen about seizing _Mossamedes_. It looked as if Wolf had engaged in
dark political intrigue, and meant to use the French officer in his
plot. Revillon, however, had seen his object. But the thing was done
with, and Kit went off to the office of a merchant who was loading
_Mossamedes_ with grain.
When her cargo was on board she sailed for Teneriffe, and anchored at
Santa Cruz to land a few barge-loads. Kit, going to the agent's in the
evening, met Jefferson in the plaza.
"Mrs. Jefferson and Miss Jordan are at the Golden Pine," he said. "They
went to Laguna for a holiday and I came over to bring them back. Will
you walk up to the hotel with me?"
Kit wanted to go, but said he could not: _Mossamedes_ would start for
Las Palmas when they had landed another load of maize. Santa Cruz,
sheltered by the volcanic range that cuts off the Trade-breeze, was very
hot, and he asked why Mrs. Jefferson had left Laguna, which occupies a
cool tableland behind the town.
"We meant to go back on board _Campeador_ this morning," Jefferson
replied. "The company, however, have altered the sailing bill, and Don
Maccario doesn't expect the boat to arrive for some days."
"If Mrs. Jefferson can get ready soon, we'll take you across," said Kit.
"We ought to make Las Palmas about daybreak and can give you good rooms
on deck."
Jefferson agreed and an hour afterwards his party arrived. Kit's boat
was waiting at the mole, and when they got on board, _Mossamedes_ went
to sea. For some time Kit was occupied with his dispatch box, but as
soon as he had sorted his manifests he went on deck.
There was no moon, the sea was phosphorescent, and the wind was light.
_Mossamedes_ rolled languidly and the foam that ran back from her bows
sparkled green and gold. Mrs. Jefferson, Jefferson and Don Erminio
occupied canvas chairs on the upper deck, but at first Kit could not
find Betty. Then he saw a white dress in the gloom by a boat and heard
Macallister's voice. Kit turned back and Betty laughed. He thought her
laugh had a note of protest and wondered what Macallister had said.
"You must really stop!" Betty exclaimed.
Macallister's reply was not distinct, but Kit heard part: "Weel, it's
for your ain good. Maybe ye might get better, but ye might get waur----"
"I'm going," said Betty firmly, and light steps indicated that she left
the boat.
Kit, meeting her across the deck, thought her embarrassed and when they
joined the others she did not talk much. He, however, was satisfied to
sit on the deck and smoke, knowing Betty was about. After a time
Macallister returned and leaned against the rails. He chuckled and Kit
noted that Betty did not look up.
"We're a humorous lot, though a' o' us dinna see the joke," he said.
"Noo I'm getting old I look on and laugh. When ye meddle ye get no
thanks. For a' that, philosophy is sometimes hard. Ye meet folks who
dinna ken their luck."
"It's possible, but I don't see where your remarks lead," Mrs. Jefferson
rejoined and turned to the captain. "Do you see?"
"I am a sailor," said Don Erminio. "Sailors are not philosophers. They
are honest people and some are fools. If they were not fools, they
would not go to sea. But perhaps it is better to be a fool than an
animal like the men who own the ships."
Mrs. Jefferson laughed, and they talked about something else until she
got up and glanced at Betty, who went with her to her room by the
bridge. When the others went off Kit stopped and smoked. Betty had kept
close to Mrs. Jefferson; it looked as if she did not mean to be left
alone with him.
At daybreak he went on deck. There was not much wind, and _Mossamedes_
went steadily through the dim blue water. Her mastheads swung, but one
felt no motion; the engines throbbed with an even rhythm. To starboard,
dark rocks pierced a bank of mist; ahead a thicker bank indicated the
Isleta hill and Kit looked at his watch. It was six o'clock. In half an
hour _Mossamedes_ would steam into the harbour, and his chance of
talking to Betty would be gone.
Kit wanted to talk to Betty, but was daunted. On the ocean voyage, he
had seen a light. Perhaps it was strange, but he knew now the light had
begun to burn one April day in the primrose wood; and then, for a time,
he had lost it, because Olivia had dazzled him. Betty knew. He thought
she knew all his follies, but she was kind.
Coming down from the bridge, he saw her by the rail. Her look was
thoughtful; her brows were knit and putting her hand on a stanchion, she
fixed her eyes ahead.
The mist was thinner and the sky above it began to gleam like an opal.
Soon the haze would roll back and the sun leap up. Kit advanced quietly,
but Betty turned as if she knew his step. Somehow Kit knew she had been
thinking about him. A touch of colour came to his skin and his heart
beat, but he was calm. When one talked to Betty, one was not moved by
strange, disturbing thrills; she did not dazzle one. Her light was
clear and steady, and Kit knew it had after all been his guide.
"Betty," he said, "why did you refuse me at Liverpool?"
She gave him a quick glance, and for a moment turned her head. When she
looked up her colour was rather high.
"We were very young, Kit."
"You mean, I was very young and rashly confident. You don't think about
yourself. It was for my sake you let me go."
"Aren't you taking something for granted?"
"I think not," said Kit. "I'm dull, but sometimes I do understand, and I
now see all I lost. You wanted me to have my chance; you thought to be
tied to you might keep me back? Yet I believe you loved me. Let's be
frank!"
"Suppose I did love you?" said Betty, with a blush, although her voice
was quiet.
"To begin with, you know how I used my freedom; you know my ridiculous
ambitions."
"You mean you were ridiculous when you fell in love with Olivia Brown?"
"Yes," said Kit. "Anyhow, it was ridiculous for me to imagine I could
marry her."
Betty gave him a keen glance, for she was human. She liked Kit's
staunchness, but nevertheless sometimes it jarred.
"Nevertheless you did not feel you were ridiculous, when you thought you
could marry me!"
"I was a fool. My wanting you was all the sense I had. The strange thing
was, from the beginning you were my guide, and I tried to use your
rules. When I lost the men in Africa, I went back to look for them
because I felt you would have me go. I was accountable, the job was
mine, but I would not have known this had I not known you. It was like
that before and afterwards----"
Betty was moved, but she thought Kit was not altogether just to himself.
His honesty was instinctive, and he paid his debts.
"But that's not all," he resumed. "At Liverpool you sometimes puzzled
me. You saw and followed a light I did not. Once when I talked about
climbing above the crowd, you said perhaps one need not climb. One ought
to stop at one's proper level, and try to make things better. Well, when
the Spaniards offered me a good post, I remembered. I'd had enough of
shabby ambitions and knew my level. In fact, so to speak, the light was
breaking."
He was quiet for a few moments and looked about, knitting his brows. The
surf was louder, the sky was red, and the mists glimmered, as if a glow
shone through. Betty waited and said nothing. She had waited long, but
Kit had returned to her.
"I was a fool," he broke out. "But you know all, dear, and are very
kind. Somehow I think you will take me back."
Betty gave him a gentle smile. "It looks as if I had never quite let you
go."
Kit took her in his arms and when he looked up a warm beam touched them
and moved across the deck. The mists were rolling back, day had broken
and all ahead was bright.
* * * * * *
Transcriber's note:
The following typographical errors present in the original
edition have been corrected.
In Part I, Chapter I, a quotation mark was added after "I might get up a
few rounds."
In Part I, Chapter IV, a period was added after "he started for Las
Palmas".
In Part I, Chapter V, "the sale fish I sent home" was changed to "the
salt fish I sent home".
In Part I, Chapter X, a missing quotation mark was added after "I knew
you were moody.", "to note thinks like that" was changed to "to note
things like that", and a period was changed to a comma after "He
promised he'd give Kit a post".
In Part I, Chapter XI, "the caravan roads and wodys were drawn by a pen"
was changed to "the caravan roads and wadys were drawn by a pen".
In Part II, Chapter I, a missing quotation mark was added after "if you
think I ought to stop, I will stop.", a missing period was added after
"'Maybe Mr. Musgrave would suit,' says I", "Since I dinno convairse" was
changed to "Since I dinna convairse", and a period was changed to a
comma after "Then she said".
In Part II, Chapter II, "foul-smelling cafes by the horbour" was changed
to "foul-smelling cafes by the harbour", "sailed on beard a fishing
schooner" was changed to "sailed on board a fishing schooner", a comma
was added after "sports he could not enjoy before", a period was added
after "a cultivation higher than his", "they halued her off and waited"
was changed to "they hauled her off and waited", and "brought off a
number of loans" was changed to "brought off a number of loads".
In Part II, Chapter III, "'I'm very much surprised,' he admitte.d" was
changed to "'I'm very much surprised,' he admitted.", "Its not usual.
Nobody trusts us like that" was changed to "It's not usual. Nobody
trusts us like that", "his imaginatino had cheated him" was changed to
"his imagination had cheated him", and a quotation mark was added after
"he'd been loafing about my office most part of the afternoon."
In Part II, Chapter IV, "althought he doubted if his analogy were good"
was changed to "although he doubted if his analogy were good", "a
dispute with another tribe in the back country about an oases" was
changed to "a dispute with another tribe in the back country about an
oasis", and "When he was on board the _coreillo_" was changed to "When
he was on board the _correillo_".
In Part II, Chapter VI, "I think it better or him to do so" was changed
to "I think it better for him to do so", and a quotation mark was added
before "That's all, but I rather agree with Jefferson."
In Part II, Chapter VIII, "The view from the veranda" was changed to
"The view from the venranda".
In Part II, Chapter X, "Don Erminio spread a chart on the tabble" was
changed to "Don Erminio spread a chart on the table".
In Part II, Chapter XI, "It was swimming befoe" was changed to "It was
swimming before".
In Part II, Chapter XII, "She struck the steamers plates" was changed to
"She struck the steamer's plates", and "the lifeboat's sterpost's
smashed" was changed to "the lifeboat's sternpost's smashed".
In Part III, Chapter IV, "smoke curled about the automatic pistal" was
changed to "smoke curled about the automatic pistol", "I knew you would
came back for us" was changed to "I knew you would came back for us",
and periods were changed to commas after "Very well", after "he said"
and before "and turned to Kit", and after "I knew you would came back
for us".
In Part III, Chapter V, a period was changed to a comma after "he had
used his short supplies with stern economy", and a quotation mark was
removed before "We'll push on for the ridge".
In Part III, Chapter VI, a quotation mark was added before "You're a
very good sort, Harry."
In Part III, Chapter VII, "grit like her's is fine" was changed to "grit
like hers is fine", and a period was changed to a comma after "over the
kedge all were exhausted".
In Part III, Chapter VIII, a period was added after "Austin was not
surprised that she was there", and a quotation mark was added after "I
rather think Kit deserves his triumph."
In Part III, Chapter IX, "Somethink like that, sir" was changed to
"Something like that, sir".
In Part III, Chapter X, period were removed after "brought back the men
and got another post----" and "if anything could have moved me----",
"The others iindulged me" was changed to "The others indulged me", and a
period was changed to a comma after "Then he said" and before "The
offer's good".
In Part III, Chapter XI, "Ola, seuor!" was changed to "Ola, senor!", and
"a' o' us dinna see he joke" was changed to "a' o' us dinna see the
joke".
In addition, the heading for KIT MUSGRAVE'S LUCK which originally
followed the heading for PART I: THE WIDE HORIZON has been moved to
precede it.