adjoining the pantry. We pushed the door open and entered. A sigh of
relief escaped from my bosom. The very first object on which my eye
rested was the cadaverous face of Flannigan, with its hard-set mouth and
unwinking eye. His companion sat opposite to him. They were both
drinking, and a pile of cards lay upon the table. They were engaged in
playing as we entered. I nudged Dick to show him that we had found our
quarry, and we sat down beside them with as unconcerned an air as
possible. The two conspirators seemed to take little notice of our
presence. I watched them both narrowly. The game at which they were
playing was "Napoleon." Both were adepts at it; and I could not help
admiring the consummate nerve of men who, with such a secret at their
hearts, could devote their minds to the manipulating of a long suit or
the finessing of a queen. Money changed hands rapidly; but the run of
luck seemed to be all against the taller of the two players. At last he
threw down his cards on the table with an oath and refused to go on.
"No, I'm hanged if I do!" he said; "I haven't had more than two of a
suit for five hands."
"Never mind," said his comrade, as he gathered up his winnings; "a few
dollars one way or the other won't go very far after to-night's work."
I was astonished at the rascal's audacity, but took care to keep my eyes
fixed abstractedly upon the ceiling, and drank my wine in as unconscious
a manner as possible. I felt that Flannigan was looking towards me with
his wolfish eyes to see if I had noticed the allusion. He whispered
something to his companion which I failed to catch. It was a caution, I
suppose, for the other answered rather angrily--
"Nonsense! Why shouldn't I say what I like? Over-caution is just what
would ruin us."
"I believe you want it not to come off," said Flannigan.
"You believe nothing of the sort," said the other, speaking rapidly and
loudly. "You know as well as I do that when I play for a stake I like to
win it. But I won't have my words criticised and cut short by you or any
other man; I have as much interest in our success as you have--more, I
hope."
He was quite hot about it, and puffed furiously at his cigar for a few
minutes. The eyes of the other ruffian wandered alternately from Dick
Merton to myself. I knew that I was in the presence of a desperate man,
that a quiver of my lip might be the signal for him to plunge a weapon
into my heart; but I betrayed more self-command than I should have given
myself credit for under such trying circumstances. As to Dick, he was as
immovable and apparently as unconscious as the Egyptian Sphinx.
There was silence for some time in the smoking-room, broken only by the
crisp rattle of the cards as the man Muller shuffled them up before
replacing them in his pocket. He still seemed to be somewhat flushed and
irritable. Throwing the end of his cigar into the spittoon, he glanced
defiantly at his companion, and turned towards me.
"Can you tell me, sir," he said, "when this ship will be heard of
again?"
They were both looking at me; but though my face may have turned a
trifle paler, my voice was as steady as ever as I answered--
"I presume, sir, that it will be heard of first when it enters
Queenstown Harbour."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the angry little man; "I knew you would say that.
Don't you kick me under the table, Flannigan; I won't stand it. I know
what I am doing. You are wrong, sir," he continued, turning to me;
"utterly wrong."
"Some passing ship, perhaps," suggested Dick.
"No, nor that either."
"The weather is fine," I said; "why should we not be heard of at our
destination?"
"I didn't say we shouldn't be heard of at our destination. No doubt we
shall in the course of time; but that is not where we shall be heard of
first."
"Where then?" asked Dick.
"That you will never know. Suffice it that a rapid and mysterious agency
will signal our whereabouts, and that before the day is out. Ha, ha!"
and he chuckled once again.
"Come on deck!" growled his comrade; "you have drunk too much of that
confounded brandy-and-water. It has loosened your tongue. Come away!"
and taking him by the arm he half led him, half forced him out of the
smoking-room, and we heard them stumbling up the companion together, and
on to the deck.
"Well, what do you think now?" I gasped, as I turned towards Dick. He
was as imperturbable as ever.
"Think!" he said; "why, I think what his companion thinks--that we have
been listening to the ravings of a half-drunken man. The fellow stunk of
brandy."
"Nonsense, Dick! you saw how the other tried to stop his tongue."
"Of course he did. He didn't want his friend to make a fool of himself
before strangers. Maybe the short one is a lunatic, and the other his
private keeper. It's quite possible."
"Oh, Dick, Dick," I cried; "how can you be so blind? Don't you see that
every word confirmed our previous suspicion?"
"Humbug, man!" said Dick; "you're working yourself into a state of
nervous excitement. Why, what the devil do _you_ make of all that
nonsense about a mysterious agent which would signal our whereabouts?"
"I'll tell you what he meant, Dick," I said, bending forward and
grasping my friend's arm. "He meant a sudden glare and a flash seen far
out at sea by some lonely fisherman off the American coast. That's what
he meant."
"I didn't think you were such a fool, Hammond," said Dick Merton
testily. "If you try to fix a literal meaning on the twaddle that every
drunken man talks, you will come to some queer conclusions. Let us
follow their example, and go on deck. You need fresh air, I think.
Depend upon it, your liver is out of order. A sea-voyage will do you a
world of good."
"If ever I see the end of this one," I groaned, "I'll promise never to
venture on another. They are laying the cloth, so it's hardly worth
while my going up. I'll stay below and finish my smoke."
"I hope dinner will find you in a more pleasant state of mind," said
Dick; and he went out, leaving me to my thoughts until the clang of the
great gong summoned us to the saloon.
My appetite, I need hardly say, had not been improved by the incidents
which had occurred during the day. I sat down, however, mechanically at
the table, and listened to the talk which was going on around me. There
were nearly a hundred first-class passengers, and as the wine began to
circulate, their voices combined with the clash of the dishes to form a
perfect Babel. I found myself seated between a very stout and nervous
old lady and a prim little clergyman; and as neither made any advances,
I retired into my shell, and spent my time in observing the appearance
of my fellow-voyagers. I could see Dick in the dim distance dividing his
attentions between a jointless fowl in front of him and a self-possessed
young lady at his side. Captain Dowie was doing the honours at my end,
while the surgeon of the vessel was seated at the other. I was glad to
notice that Flannigan was placed almost opposite to me. As long as I had
him before my eyes I knew that, for the time at least, we were safe. He
was sitting with what was meant to be a sociable smile on his grim
face. It did not escape me that he drank largely of wine--so largely
that even before the dessert appeared his voice had become decidedly
husky. His friend Muller was seated a few places lower down. He ate
little, and appeared to be nervous and restless.
"Now, ladies," said our genial captain, "I trust that you will consider
yourselves at home aboard my vessel. I have no fears for the gentlemen.
A bottle of champagne, steward. Here's to a fresh breeze and a quick
passage! I trust our friends in America will hear of our safe arrival in
twelve days, or a fortnight at the very latest."
I looked up. Quick as was the glance which passed between Flannigan and
his confederate, I was able to intercept it. There was an evil smile
upon the former's thin lips.
The conversation rippled on. Politics, the sea, amusements, religion,
each was in turn discussed. I remained a silent though an interested
listener. It struck me that no harm could be done by introducing the
subject which was ever in my mind. It could be managed in an off-hand
way, and would at least have the effect of turning the captain's
thoughts in that direction. I could watch, too, what effect it would
have upon the faces of the conspirators.
There was a sudden lull in the conversation. The ordinary subjects of
interest appeared to be exhausted. The opportunity was a favourable one.
"May I ask, captain," I said, bending forward, and speaking very
distinctly, "what you think of Fenian manifestoes?"
The captain's ruddy face became a shade darker from honest indignation.
"They are poor cowardly things," he said, "as silly as they are wicked."
"The impotent threats of a set of anonymous scoundrels," said a
pompous-looking old gentleman beside him.
"Oh, captain!" said the fat lady at my side, "you don't really think
they would blow up a ship?"
"I have no doubt they would if they could. But I am very sure they will
never blow up mine."
"May I ask what precautions are taken against them?" said an elderly man
at the end of the table.
"All goods sent aboard the ship are strictly examined," said Captain
Dowie.
"But suppose a man brought explosives aboard with him?" said I.
"They are too cowardly to risk their own lives in that way."
During this conversation Flannigan had not betrayed the slightest
interest in what was going on. He raised his head now, and looked at the
captain.
"Don't you think you are rather underrating them?" he said. "Every
secret society has produced desperate men--why shouldn't the Fenians
have them too? Many men think it a privilege to die in the service of a
cause which seems right in their eyes, though others may think it
wrong."
"Indiscriminate murder cannot be right in anybody's eyes," said the
little clergyman.
"The bombardment of Paris was nothing else," said Flannigan; "yet the
whole civilised world agreed to look on with folded arms, and change the
ugly word 'murder' into the more euphonious one of 'war.' It seemed
right enough to German eyes; why shouldn't dynamite seem so to the
Fenian?"
"At any rate their empty vapourings have led to nothing as yet," said
the captain.
"Excuse me," returned Flannigan, "but is there not some room for doubt
yet as to the fate of the _Dotterel_? I have met men in America who
asserted from their own personal knowledge that there was a coal torpedo
aboard that vessel."
"Then they lied," said the captain. "It was proved conclusively at the
court-martial to have arisen from an explosion of coal-gas--but we had
better change the subject, or we may cause the ladies to have a restless
night;" and the conversation once more drifted back into its original
channel.
During this little discussion Flannigan had argued his point with a
gentlemanly deference and a quiet power for which I had not given him
credit. I could not help admiring a man who, on the eve of a desperate
enterprise, could courteously argue upon a point which must touch him so
nearly. He had, as I have already mentioned, partaken of a considerable
quantity of wine; but though there was a slight flush upon his pale
cheek, his manner was as reserved as ever. He did not join in the
conversation again, but seemed to be lost in thought.
A whirl of conflicting ideas was battling in my own mind. What was I to
do? Should I stand up now and denounce them before both passengers and
captain? Should I demand a few minutes' conversation with the latter in
his own cabin, and reveal it all? For an instant I was half resolved to
do it, but then the old constitutional timidity came back with redoubled
force. After all there might be some mistake. Dick had heard the
evidence, and had refused to believe in it. I determined to let things
go on their course. A strange reckless feeling came over me. Why should
I help men who were blind to their own danger? Surely it was the duty of
the officers to protect us, not ours to give warning to them. I drank
off a couple of glasses of wine, and staggered upon deck with the
determination of keeping my secret locked in my own bosom.
It was a glorious evening. Even in my excited state of mind I could not
help leaning against the bulwarks and enjoying the refreshing breeze.
Away to the westward a solitary sail stood out as a dark speck against
the great sheet of flame left by the setting sun. I shuddered as I
looked at it. It seemed like a sea of blood. A single star was twinkling
faintly above our main-mast, but a thousand seemed to gleam in the water
below with every stroke of our propeller. The only blot in the fair
scene was the great trail of smoke which stretched away behind us like a
black slash upon a crimson curtain. It seemed hard to believe that the
great peace which hung over all Nature could be marred by a poor
miserable mortal.
"After all," I thought, as I gazed upon the blue depths beneath me, "if
the worst comes to the worst, it is better to die here than to linger in
agony upon a sick-bed on land." A man's life seems a very paltry thing
amid the great forces of Nature. All my philosophy could not prevent my
shuddering, however, when I turned my head and saw two shadowy figures
at the other side of the deck, which I had no difficulty in recognising.
They seemed to be conversing earnestly, but I had no opportunity of
overhearing what was said; so I contented myself with pacing up and
down, and keeping a vigilant watch upon their movements.
It was a relief to me when Dick came on deck. Even an incredulous
confidant is better than none at all.
"Well, old man," he said, giving me a facetious dig in the ribs, "we've
not been blown up yet."
"No, not yet," said I; "but that's no proof that we are not going to
be."
"Nonsense, man!" said Dick; "I can't conceive what has put this
extraordinary idea into your head. I have been talking to one of your
supposed assassins, and he seems a pleasant fellow enough; quite a
sporting character, I should think, from the way he speaks."
"Dick," I said, "I am as certain that those men have an infernal
machine, and that we are on the verge of eternity, as if I saw them
putting the match to the fuse."
"Well, if you really think so," said Dick, half awed for the moment by
the earnestness of my manner, "it is your duty to let the captain know
of your suspicions."
"You are right," I said; "I will. My absurd timidity has prevented my
doing so sooner. I believe our lives can only be saved by laying the
whole matter before him."
"Well, go and do it now," said Dick; "but for goodness' sake don't mix
me up in the matter."
"I'll speak to him when he comes off the bridge," I answered; "and in
the meantime I don't mean to lose sight of them."
"Let me know of the result," said my companion; and with a nod he
strolled away in search, I fancy, of his partner at the dinner-table.
Left to myself, I bethought me of my retreat of the morning, and
climbing on the bulwark I mounted into the quarter-boat, and lay down
there. In it I could reconsider my course of action, and by raising my
head I was able at any time to get a view of my disagreeable neighbours.
An hour passed, and the captain was still on the bridge. He was talking
to one of the passengers, a retired naval officer, and the two were deep
in debate concerning some abstruse point in navigation. I could see the
red tips of their cigars from where I lay. It was dark now--so dark that
I could hardly make out the figures of Flannigan and his accomplice.
They were still standing in the position which they had taken up after
dinner. A few of the passengers were scattered about the deck, but many
had gone below. A strange stillness seemed to pervade the air. The
voices of the watch and the rattle of the wheel were the only sounds
which broke the silence.
Another half-hour passed. The captain was still upon the bridge. It
seemed as if he would never come down. My nerves were in a state of
unnatural tension, so much so that the sound of two steps upon the deck
made me start up in a quiver of excitement. I peered over the side of
the boat, and saw that our suspicious passengers had crossed from the
other side and were standing almost directly beneath me. The light of a
binnacle fell full upon the ghastly face of the ruffian Flannigan. Even
in that short glance I saw that Muller had the ulster, whose use I knew
so well, slung loosely over his arm. I sank back with a groan. It seemed
that my fatal procrastination had sacrificed two hundred innocent lives.
I had read of the fiendish vengeance which awaited a spy. I knew that
men with their lives in their hands would stick at nothing. All I could
do was to cower at the bottom of the boat and listen silently to their
whispered talk below.
"This place will do," said a voice.
"Yes, the leeward side is best."
"I wonder if the trigger will act?"
"I am sure it will."
"We were to let it off at ten, were we not?"
"Yes, at ten sharp. We have eight minutes yet." There was a pause. Then
the voice began again--
"They'll hear the drop of the trigger, won't they?"
"It doesn't matter. It will be too late for any one to prevent its going
off."
"That's true. There will be some excitement among those we have left
behind, won't there?"
"Rather! How long do you reckon it will be before they hear of us?"
"The first news will get in in about twenty-four hours."
"That will be mine."
"No, mine."
"Ha, ha! we'll settle that."
There was a pause here. Then I heard Muller's voice in a ghastly
whisper, "There's only five minutes more."
How slowly the moments seemed to pass! I could count them by the
throbbing of my heart.
"It'll make a sensation on land," said a voice.
"Yes, it will make a noise in the newspapers."
I raised my head and peered over the side of the boat. There seemed no
hope, no help. Death stared me in the face, whether I did or did not
give the alarm. The captain had at last left the bridge. The deck was
deserted, save for those two dark figures crouching in the shadow of the
boat.
Flannigan had a watch lying open in his hand.
"Three minutes more," he said. "Put it down upon the deck."
"No, put it here on the bulwarks."
It was the little square box. I knew by the sound that they had placed
it near the davit, and almost exactly under my head.
I looked over again. Flannigan was pouring something out of a paper into
his hand. It was white and granular--the same that I had seen him use in
the morning. It was meant as a fuse, no doubt, for he shovelled it into
the little box, and I heard the strange noise which had previously
arrested my attention.
"A minute and a half more," he said. "Shall you or I pull the string?"
"I will pull it," said Muller.
He was kneeling down and holding the end in his hand. Flannigan stood
behind with his arms folded, and an air of grim resolution upon his
face.
I could stand it no longer. My nervous system seemed to give way in a
moment.
"Stop!" I screamed, springing to my feet. "Stop, misguided and
unprincipled men!"
They both staggered backwards. I fancy they thought I was a spirit, with
the moonlight streaming down upon my pale face.
I was brave enough now. I had gone too far to retreat.
"Cain was damned," I cried, "and he slew but one; would you have the
blood of two hundred upon your souls?"
"He's mad!" said Flannigan. "Time's up! Let it off, Muller."
I sprang down upon the deck.
"You shan't do it!" I said.
"By what right do you prevent us?"
"By every right, human and divine."
"It's no business of yours. Clear out of this!"
"Never!" said I.
"Confound the fellow! There's too much at stake to stand on ceremony.
I'll hold him, Muller, while you pull the trigger."
Next moment I was struggling in the herculean grasp of the Irishman.
Resistance was useless; I was a child in his hands.
He pinned me up against the side of the vessel, and held me there.
"Now," he said, "look sharp. He can't prevent us."
I felt that I was standing on the verge of eternity. Half-strangled in
the arms of the taller ruffian, I saw the other approach the fatal box.
He stooped over it and seized the string. I breathed one prayer when I
saw his grasp tighten upon it. Then came a sharp snap, a strange rasping
noise. The trigger had fallen, the side of the box flew out, and let
off--_two grey carrier-pigeons_!
* * * * *
Little more need be said. It is not a subject on which I care to dwell.
The whole thing is too utterly disgusting and absurd. Perhaps the best
thing I can do is to retire gracefully from the scene, and let the
sporting correspondent of the _New York Herald_ fill my unworthy place.
Here is an extract clipped from its columns shortly after our departure
from America:--
"Pigeon-flying Extraordinary.--A novel match has been brought off, last
week, between the birds of John H. Flannigan, of Boston, and Jeremiah
Muller, a well-known citizen of Ashport. Both men have devoted much time
and attention to an improved breed of bird, and the challenge is an
old-standing one. The pigeons were backed to a large amount, and there
was considerable local interest in the result. The start was from the
deck of the Transatlantic steamship _Spartan_, at ten o'clock on the
evening of the day of starting, the vessel being then reckoned to be
about a hundred miles from the land. The bird which reached home first
was to be declared the winner. Considerable caution had, we believe, to
be observed, as British captains have a prejudice against the bringing
off of sporting events aboard their vessels. In spite of some little
difficulty at the last moment, the trap was sprung almost exactly at ten
o'clock. Muller's bird arrived in Ashport in an extreme state of
exhaustion on the following afternoon, while Flannigan's has not been
heard of. The backers of the latter have the satisfaction of knowing,
however, that the whole affair has been characterised by extreme
fairness. The pigeons were confined in a specially invented trap, which
could only be opened by the spring. It was thus possible to feed them
through an aperture in the top, but any tampering with their wings was
quite out of the question. A few such matches would go far towards
popularising pigeon-flying in America, and form an agreeable variety to
the morbid exhibitions of human endurance which have assumed such
proportions during the last few years."
_A NIGHT AMONG THE NIHILISTS._
"Robinson, the boss wants you!"
"The dickens he does!" thought I; for Mr. Dickson, Odessa agent of
Bailey & Co., corn merchants, was a bit of a Tartar, as I had learned to
my cost. "What's the row now?" I demanded of my fellow-clerk; "has he
got scent of our Nicolaieff escapade, or what is it?"
"No idea," said Gregory: "the old boy seems in a good enough humour;
some business matter, probably. But don't keep him waiting." So
summoning up an air of injured innocence, to be ready for all
contingencies, I marched into the lion's den.
Mr. Dickson was standing before the fire in a Briton's time-honoured
attitude, and motioned me into a chair in front of him. "Mr. Robinson,"
he said, "I have great confidence in your discretion and common sense.
The follies of youth will break out, but I think that you have a
sterling foundation to your character underlying any superficial
levity."
I bowed.
"I believe," he continued, "that you can speak Russian pretty fluently."
I bowed again.
"I have, then," he proceeded, "a mission which I wish you to undertake,
and on the success of which your promotion may depend. I would not trust
it to a subordinate, were it not that duty ties me to my post at
present."
"You may depend upon my doing my best, sir," I replied.
"Right, sir; quite right! What I wish you to do is briefly this: The
line of railway has just been opened to Solteff, some hundred miles up
the country. Now, I wish to get the start of the other Odessa firms in
securing the produce of that district, which I have reason to believe
may be had at very low prices. You will proceed by rail to Solteff, and
interview a Mr. Dimidoff, who is the largest landed proprietor in the
town. Make as favourable terms as you can with him. Both Mr. Dimidoff
and I wish the whole thing to be done as quietly and secretly as
possible--in fact, that nothing should be known about the matter until
the grain appears in Odessa. I desire it for the interests of the firm,
and Mr. Dimidoff on account of the prejudice his peasantry entertain
against exportation. You will find yourself expected at the end of your
journey, and will start to-night. Money shall be ready for your
expenses. Good-morning, Mr. Robinson; I hope you won't fail to realise
the good opinion I have of your abilities."