HILDEGARDE EMBARKS.
To tell the truth, I must have imbibed something of the pride that came
to old-time Romans when returning victorious from the wars, but if they
felt as “rocky” as I did after my experience with adobes and ashen
oars, surely they were not to be particularly envied.
It is always a great satisfaction to win out--success causes us to
forget for the time being the bruised head and weary frame--a generous
glow suffuses the heart, and we puff out with a feeling of consequence.
I had done enough to be pardoned for some such weakness.
And she, Hildegarde, had seen it all.
Did she think me a coward now, a vain boaster, who would flee before a
shadow?
Well, I guess not--at least, there was reason to believe I had
vindicated my right to be called a man.
The third boat still pursued us, but in a half-hearted way, for they
had discovered what an earthquake had overwhelmed the others, and
experienced a change of opinion regarding the desirability of getting
to close quarters.
Besides, Robbins was pulling steadily, and at every stroke our craft
was pushed a length ahead.
I looked around.
There upon the water I saw a rapidly approaching object--a boat with a
lantern in it, a boat that coughed intermittently as it bore down upon
us.
I knew that sound well; had I not explored creeks and lagoons in
Florida, up the Amazon, and even along the Nile in that same little
launch?
The chaps back of us were still keeping up more or less of a racket,
but distance was already mellowing the sound, and I knew I could make
myself heard.
So I bellowed out, using my hands in lieu of a fog-horn:
“Ahoy! Wagner--Cummings--this way!”
Just as I expected, there was an immediate and cheery response, and the
launch bore down upon us.
The pursuers had given it up; perhaps believed that with reinforcements
at hand we might turn the tables and chase them; or it might be more
worthy motives caused them to go back and assist their demoralized
comrades.
I cared not a picayune what the motive, so long as we were rid of the
fellows.
Hildegarde once more sat upon a thwart.
Her arm was around Carmencita, and, though unable to account for the
fact, I could see that she was awaiting events with her nerves at the
highest tension.
Strange if, after all I had done, she held that old grudge against me
still, and allowed it to make the acceptance of a temporary shelter on
board my yacht a painful necessity.
I could not quite discharge these bitter thoughts that insisted upon
crowding upon me.
The launch bore around and came up alongside our clumsy craft.
I was never more glad to grasp hold of it.
Karl Wagner, with another, was aboard--the stout engineer, I think it
was--their departure had been in such haste, they had not waited for
more recruits.
“Let me help you in, Hildegarde,” I said, quietly, and withal not able
to avoid a little tenderness in my voice, for she had been so sadly
frightened during the battle on the water, I felt genuinely sorry for
her.
She did not refuse, and actually gave me her hand, so that I might help
her.
Perhaps it was the blow I had so recently received that made me feel so
dizzy just then; surely, the touch of a hand could not set my heart to
beating so madly that the blood went rushing to my head, and after all
I had vowed about bitter feelings, hatred and such things in general
toward womankind, and this little despot in particular.
Robbins quickly swung the little girl into the launch, and then we
followed suit.
The boat was left adrift.
As I lounged there, regardless of the fact that my precious blood might
be soiling the cushions, it all seemed very like a fantastic dream--the
rapid events of this night.
True, all Bolivar was in an uproar because of our bold work, and
doubtless the worthy alcalde was marshaling his little army with the
intention of seeking our capture, so that we might be forced to pay
heavily for our fun.
Bah! we could afford to laugh at all the alcaldes in Bolivar, or any
other Central American republic, once our feet had pressed the deck of
the yacht.
Long before he could embark with his arms, we would have steam up and
be leaving the harbor, with the sea before us.
Another thing came to me, and I was really surprised to see how much
genuine pleasure it brought in its train; she must be aboard the yacht,
for days, perhaps weeks, and it would surely be my fault if I failed to
find some golden opportunity for affecting a reconciliation; yes, there
was little use deceiving myself, I loved her still, loved her better
than before, and I was ever willing to bow my proud head to her yoke if
so be---- Phew! I had forgotten that there might be some disagreeable
news for me, since I had refused to hear from her during the two years
of our separation.
What if she had secured a divorce? I had some reason to believe this
were so; but, good heavens, what if she had gone even further, and in
pique married some other fellow?
That brought out a cold sweat.
I remembered that I had not taken the trouble to ask her how she came
to be in a foreign city like Bolivar, and a guest of the alcalde.
Perhaps some one vested with authority had taken her there. I
remembered the silver frame and the photograph of which I had obtained
but a glimpse, enough to see that it was a man.
It would have pleased me had this bag been forgotten and left in the
abandoned boat; but little Carmencita had kept tight hold of it.
Apparently, my condition might be considered very much mixed.
We were now nearing the yacht.
I could tell that those on board were anticipating a speedy move,
for acting under orders, some one had started up the fires, and fresh
sparks were shooting out of her funnel.
This was fortunate.
Bolivar, with its noble harbor, would not be the place for us after
this night.
We must skip if we desired to avoid the consequences of bearding the
august alcalde in his ancestral castle, and outraging his person with a
knockdown argument.
Besides, much blood had been spilled, for which we must justly be held
to account.
I did not know that we had killed any one--I hope not, even though
the provocation had been great; but we had seriously incapacitated
half a dozen worthy citizens of Bolivar from continuing their
regular avocations for some time to come, and would be held strictly
accountable, if caught.
The justice in these Central American courts always leans in favor of
the citizen as against the foreigner, who, whether in the right or not,
usually finds himself bound to pay the costs.
Against this the Yankee spirit rose up in arms, and since protests
never avail in such a case, the only resort was flight.
Hildegarde had not said one word. I thought I had felt a little
pressure when I held her hand, but it may have been imagination.
As we drew closer to the yacht, I saw her turn and give me a quick
glance, though she did not speak.
What it was influenced her I had no idea at the time, though later on
the secret was laid bare to my gaze.
Looking myself to the yacht, I saw there were a number of persons along
the rail, about the place where we would draw alongside, there being a
landing stage swung over, with several steps to it.
One was a woman, for I could see the skirt of her light gown swaying in
the gentle breeze.
I knew who it was.
My expected guests from the steamer were aboard the yacht.
It never occurred to me to see any connection between the presence
of Diana Thorpe aboard my boat and the intense antipathy shown by
Hildegarde to coming aboard.
Then a strange thing occurred.
Hildegarde, as if possessed of a sudden overpowering notion, suddenly
veiled her face behind a flimsy web that had apparently been fastened
to her hat.
This act surprised me.
Evidently, she did not care to be immediately recognized--she knew who
leaned over the rail, her elegant figure outlined against the lights
beyond.
I was too dizzy to understand why she should do this thing; I can
remember that it struck me as queer, and yet, at the same time, I was
not unwilling to humor her caprice, and keep her secret for a little
time.
At least, I would be better able to wrestle with it when I got rid of
this awful ringing in my head, and could ponder upon it rationally. She
had some reason, that was evident.
At last we were alongside.
Robbins lifted Carmencita up, and willing hands helped her on deck.
Hildegarde neatly avoided my proffered assistance, and allowed the mate
to help her, which caused me to bite my lips in chagrin.
Then I climbed aboard, to be immediately met by an effusive young woman
and a handsome, dapper little gentleman, who wrung my hands and acted
as though they were really very glad to see me.