AT TWO BELLS.
I have never considered myself much of a yarn-spinner, even though a
yachtsman by choice; but if ever a man had the material for an engaging
story thrust upon him, I certainly came under that head.
Since sunset on this amazing evening, there had fallen to my lot a
series of the most remarkable adventures the mind of mortal man could
ever conceive.
Indeed, the only trouble I found in relating my unique experiences was
not to tell too much.
There was danger of that.
Diana’s curiosity was keenly whetted.
She saw something of a beautiful mystery in the veiled figure of the
unknown lady with whom I had come aboard.
Perhaps there was an indefinite something about her carriage that
suggested vague familiarity which she could not for the life of her
place.
On my part, I was grimly determined to give her no satisfaction.
Hildegarde had begged me to keep her identity secret for the present,
and while I did not quite understand why she should wish this, I was
perfectly willing to comply.
If Diana discovered the truth, it would have to be through other means.
Hence, in telling of my adventures I carefully avoided all reference
to the lady save as the señora who was in trouble, and whom Robbins
and myself had assisted to escape from those who detained her against
her will. In accomplishing this result, I had to run the gamut of
her questions, and I am afraid yarn a little; but really she had no
business to be so importunate, and concern herself so materially about
my affairs.
She laughingly declared that the fact of her having once been an
old flame of mine, and now a dignified matron--Heaven save the
mark!--should entitle her to some consideration, and account in a
measure for the deep interest she took in my welfare.
Luckily I was feeling all right, save for a symptom of “swelled head,”
which, under the circumstances, was allowable.
Indeed, I could even look back over the events of the night with more
or less complacency, believing that I had borne myself well.
There is an indescribable charm in thus reviewing stormy events when
seated in a comfortable chair with a prime weed between one’s teeth; no
wonder old soldiers take such keen pleasure in fighting their battles
over again.
Diana was plainly not satisfied.
She seemed to realize that I was purposely withholding some point that
had a material bearing on the story.
Perhaps she believed the lady to be some young and charming señorita
with midnight eyes, whom I had met before. I had studiously refrained
from all mention of anything that would lead her to suspect it was an
American in whose cause Robbins and myself had enlisted, fearful lest
she should put two and two together and solve the puzzle.
But she was not quite bold enough to demand a direct answer to her
questions, and I left her groping in the dark, hugging all manner of
delusions to her heart, and doubtless investing me with such romantic
surroundings as had never entered the head of novelist to conceive.
We soon branched off upon other topics; I was determined to erase
myself as the chief factor in the conversation.
They had traveled much, and between wide awake people who have seen
the world there is always much of mutual interest in comparing notes
regarding the odd things encountered.
More than once I wished they would retire.
Several reasons influenced me.
First, I desired to see Cummings and have something to say about our
course.
We had our plans arranged for the cruise and, if possible, I did not
wish to change them, although if she insisted upon being taken to
the United States, I would have to about-ship, and head in the other
direction.
Then, again, I naturally wanted to be alone; so much had happened that
bordered on the marvelous I wished to ponder it over and endeavor to
see a rosy light beyond the gloomy clouds.
I had suffered keenly in the midst of splendor and wealth--God alone
knew how hungry my heart had been for the companionship I once had
known; and now, as if Heaven sent, she had once more risen upon my
horizon; I had touched her hand, aye, crushed her in my arms, fought
like a warrior to defend her against enemies, and I wanted to be alone
in order to dream of this wonderful thing that almost intoxicated me
with its possibilities of greatest bliss.
Finally Diana took the hint, and declared I had not overcome some of my
old-time bearish ways, for I had become dull and stupid.
One could take anything from this bright butterfly with the gilded
wings, and I only pleaded extreme exhaustion in extenuation of my
shortcomings.
So they left me.
I often look back to that night and remember how they went away
laughing, with their arms around each other; for even the lordly
Gustavus was very fond of his lively, handsome wife, though both had
been sad flirts in their day.
They had been married much longer than a year, but being constantly on
the go, like the busy bee, sipping honey from each flower as they went,
they declared they were still on their bridal tour and enjoying their
honeymoon.
Yes, I often think of them as I saw them that night, happy as children,
knowing no harassing care, content to accept the bountiful favors an
indulgent fortune threw in their way, and perfectly unconscious of any
impending peril.
When I had talked a while with Cummings, and told him about my wishes
respecting our course, and what I intended doing for my old friend and
shipmate of the _Pathfinder_, I took a few turns on the deck.
We were now far out on the heaving bosom of the Caribbean Sea.
Not a light could be seen in the quarter where, as I knew, Bolivar lay,
for many miles stretched between us and that treacherous shore.
Surely I had endured enough to fatigue my body and induce sleep; that
was just the trouble, for while my frame was sore and weary my mind was
as keen set and full of vigor as that of a lawyer ready to begin his
plea to judge and jury.
No use then for me to lie down in my little den and try to conjure
sleep--with Hildegarde so near, and my heart in my throat, as it were.
Another cigar in that comfortable chair; if slumber overtook me under
the awning, what odds? I had passed more than one hot night in the
region of the Malacca Straits and Singapore, sleeping on deck.
Besides, I wanted to think.
Several hours passed, and there I still lounged, puffing drowsily at
my fourth cigar, while the prominent events of the past two years were
hurriedly recalled.
Thus I was sitting when two bells struck; my cigar had gone out and
fallen to the deck, and I had about reached the point where the mind
begins to yield the battle with the sleep god, when something like a
sigh caught my ear--a sigh accompanied by a rustle of garments; and as
I detected the presence of a delicate perfume I knew only too well (her
favorite), I raised my head and discovered a figure leaning over the
rail of the yacht close by.