THE MAN WHO MADE SIGNS.
It was no time for delay.
Enough precious minutes had been already wasted while he listened to
the remarks of the trio upon the upper deck.
Georgia had made some laughing remark at the haste shown in their
departure--she knew the weakness of Don Porfidio, and rallied them
on their readiness to seek the confines of the stuffy cabin because
forsooth a gentleman had come on board with a basket of champagne.
Perhaps, woman like, she was a little piqued because they beat such a
hasty retreat.
Well, there was one ascending the ladder at this very moment whom a
thousand baskets, each loaded to the brim with the finest of Mumms'
Extra Dry could not tempt from the locality which she graced with her
charming presence.
Roderic mounted eagerly.
Yes, the coast was clear.
The young girl sat quite alone, apparently lost in deep thought.
Around her were several steamer chairs, just as the gallant trio had
left them when they made their hasty escape.
Roderic's eyes were glued on the girl.
She had one hand up to her head--her rounded cheek was poised upon the
forefinger, and in the ravished eyes of this enthusiastic adorer she
made the most charming spectacle on earth.
He drew near, endeavoring to calm the tumultuous throbbing of his heart.
Heaven was kind to allow him such an opportunity, so much more than he
had expected or even hoped for in his wildest fancies.
Now he stood behind her--not more than three feet separated them.
It was a moment of intense suspense, since Roderic hardly knew how he
should make his presence known without alarming the girl, and besides,
wished to become entirely calm ere trusting himself to speak.
She evidently heard the slight movement he made--at least she seemed
to be aware of his presence, for while she did not move she presently
spoke.
"Well, you have returned?"
No answer.
"I said you had evidently come back, sir."
"Yes," replied Roderic, weakly.
"I don't understand why you should," she said, a little scornfully.
Roderic hardly knew himself, save that somehow for the life of him he
could not help it--there was an attraction in her presence that it was
utterly useless to resist.
"Nor I," he muttered in reply.
"Indeed, that is singular. I am sure I can spare your presence when
there is a far greater attraction in the captain's chart room. Pray, do
not deprive yourself of such enchanting society because I shall be left
alone. I have quite consoling company in my thoughts of those far away.
Leave me, therefore, I beg."
Then it dawned upon the benighted man that this little witch had
been addressing him under the positive belief that it was one of the
gentlemen who had made such a mad bolt for the cabin.
Her words too gave him a delicious satisfaction--could she refer to him
especially when she thus spoke of those to whom her mind wandered with
pleasure--those who were supposed to be separated by many leagues of
water?
At any rate he hugged the sweet delusion to his heart--these lovers are
voraciously selfish.
"Why don't you say something--have you lost your tongue, _amigo_?" she
demanded.
He still hesitated, and overcome by the temptation of her dear presence
put out a trembling hand and touched her raven hair.
At this the girl suddenly roused herself and as she turned her head
quickly Roderic found himself looking into those wonderful orbs that
long ago had so riddled his wretched heart that it might have done duty
as a housewife's sieve.
They were filled with astonishment at first, then indignation and
gathering anger, for this girl of the South had a temper.
"How _dare_ you touch me?"
Roderic made a mute appeal, this time with both hands--while she was
talking with gathering emphasis, and really allowing him no opportunity
to open with an explanation, he was thus going through a series of
remarkable gesticulations that would have certainly amused an outside
spectator could he have seen them.
Even Georgia became conscious that the strange sailor man was
endeavoring to prove his devotion--he clasped his hands and wrung them,
he held out his arms, entreatingly, he pressed one hand over his heart
as he sank on his knee, holding the other as might a princely beggar
soliciting alms.
All of which at length aroused her feminine curiosity, and she ceased
scolding him for his apparent impudence, to demand wonderingly:
"Are you mute--have you lost your tongue--why don't you answer and tell
me who are you and what in the name of the Virgin do you mean by such
operatic gestures?"
His chance had come at last.
"I want--_you_!" he managed to say, nor was he able to recognize his
own voice.
"Indeed, you are modesty personified; but I must tell you, Master
Impudence, that you cannot have _me_, and that unless you return
instantly to the quarter where you belong I shall signal to the cabin
and summon assistance. Instantly, do you understand, sirrah?" and she
emphasized the command with an imperious little stamp of her foot upon
the deck, that would have done credit, Roderic thought, to a queen.
"Yes, I understand," he said, his voice growing bolder as he began to
use it.
"Then why do you not obey me?" she asked, as if surprised at the
density of his intellect.
"Because I am bound in chains--because I live only in your
presence--because it would require more resolution than I possess to
voluntarily quit your presence," he declared, warmly.
Roderic was himself again, evidently--at least he had whipped his
demoralized faculties into line and found his tongue, so that he might
give expression to what was in his heart.
The effect upon the young woman was plainly perceptible--she seemed
overwhelmed either by the warmth of the sentiments he expressed or some
familiar tone in his ardent voice, possibly both.
At any rate she no longer threatened to summon assistance from the
cabin of the steamer.
On the contrary she advanced a step nearer the supposed sailor, and
slowly, wonderingly stretched out an eager hand toward his arm, her
eyes all the while fastened upon his dimly seen face as though she
would there discover his secret.
"Who--who are you--what right have you to express such sentiments
toward me?" she asked, in a trembling voice.
Roderic had now grown quite bold.
"By the right you gave me--by the love that has sent me aboard this
hostile craft just to get one glimpse of your sweet face, to hear your
dearly loved voice, perhaps if Heaven were very very kind, to even
touch your hand reverently with mine. Do you longer question my right?"
"Sancta Maria! it is he, my Roderic!"
She held out both hands eagerly and he crushed them within his own.
What would he not have given for the privilege of taking her wholly
within the shelter of his arms, and pressing her to his loving heart.
But such action might be seen--they were in a position where their
figures would be outlined in silhouette against the sky, should any of
those upon the lower deck chance to look that way.
Hence, the lover was forced to be content to press the two hands thus
confided to his trust, though he did manage to bend his head and press
a burning kiss upon each in turn.
"What wonderful mystery is this--why are you here in this deep
disguise? They told me the Azores were islands of enchantment and
surely I am beginning to believe it," she said, her voice thrilling
with excitement.
"It is very simple, and I shall quickly explain. But, dearest senorita,
do not forget that I am in the enemy's stronghold. If caught death
might be the price of my daring."
Then he proceeded to elucidate.
It was very natural, after all.
She blushed and thrilled with pleasure to know that she still held this
man's heart in the hollow of her hand--that he had dared all in the mad
desire to once again see her face to face.
That was a keen satisfaction to one who loved with every fibre of her
being.
Besides, there was a strong touch of the romantic in his strange
appearance, that was not without its effect upon Georgia--native of
Porto Rico, with some of Spain's most aristocratic blood in her veins,
it was not at all singular that such a deed, savoring of the days of
chivalry when Knights sought peril for the sake of Love, should appeal
irresistibly to her heart.
She had cherished the memory of how he rushed into danger in Dublin,
impelled by this same magical motive power, and the thought of his
daring had been very sweet to her when seated alone upon the deck of
the steamer watching the rolling billows, or resting in her bijou berth
below.
No longer could she doubt the ardor of his love, when he showed such a
willingness to risk life in order to prove it.
So Roderic related the little run of adventure that had befallen him
since last they parted in the dark at the time he emerged from the
cellar of the queer bungalow dwelling.
It was not much, but as she had experienced the same storm there was at
least a bond of sympathy between them.
All the while she maintained a nervous watch in the direction of the
steep stair leading up from the lower deck.
He knew why she exhibited this zeal, and felt flattered.
It puffs a man up to realize that he is an indispensable condition to
one woman on earth--that she is deeply concerned about his well being;
and when Roderic knew the peril hanging over him caused Georgia such
constant uneasiness he gloried in the fact, simply because it spoke
eloquently of her abiding affection.
"I fancy Captain Beven will keep the gallant gentlemen enjoying
themselves for some little time yet. He is a capital hand at a yarn,
and with a box of prime Havanas which he says he secured from a trader
who came out to our boat, to back up the basket of champagne Cleo sent
aboard, I imagine he will hold them spellbound until the last cork is
popped and the balance of the weeds sacrificed to the god, Moloch."
He knew from the uneasy movement of the girl that he had said something
to arouse a new train of thought in her mind.
"Cleo--she is on yonder boat which I can see through the darkness--your
cousin Cleo. And after having passed days in her society, how do you
find your heart, Senor Roderic--has she still failed to creep in?" she
asked, with a peculiar quivering spasm of pain in her voice.
"My God, Georgia, how can I make you believe I love, can love no woman
on earth while you live? Is not my presence here at this moment proof
sufficient? You fill my heart to absolute completion, so there in no
room for another. Will you believe that I live and breathe and have my
very being centered on _you_, heart of my heart and soul of my soul?"
These words, spoken in a low but tense tone, seemed to persuade
her--the magnetism of his presence, the beloved tones of his voice, the
very fervor of his impassioned gaze all served to convince the senorita
that this man whose love had once been sufficient to kindle the fires
of jealousy in his breast, was incapable of deception.
"I _do_ believe--yes, I trust all my hopes of future happiness in your
hands, for oh! Roderic if your love ever fails me, if it fades away
like a dream, I shall surely die," she made response.
Of course he felt it his privilege and duty to swear by everything
he held sacred, by the graves of his ancestors, after the Japanese
fashion, that so long as earth held them both, he could neither change
nor his passion grow cold.
And she believed him from that hour; implicit confidence dwelt within
her trusting heart, and if this man ever did aught to destroy the faith
she placed in his affection let him be accused from that day.
This was what Roderic was telling himself as he stood there holding her
hand, the magnetic spark flowing from soul to soul.
He was ordinarily quite a matter of fact man, but even the most prosaic
can be counted on to give way to unheard of romantic tendencies under
the spur of such conditions.
Time flies with extraordinary swiftness when the moments are freighted
with ecstatic bliss.
Roderic endeavored to keep his wits about him even while exchanging
these sentiments with the girl of his heart.
He knew he had enemies near--he had not forgotten the bitterness with
which Jerome hated him and the ardor with which the Spanish plotters
would have sacrificed him when he was held a prisoner in the Dublin
villa.
It would be a decidedly unpleasant episode in his checkered career
should they capture him on board the Sterling Castle--he was a marked
man in the minds of those whose sympathies were enlisted for Spain, and
they could imagine nothing finer than an opportunity to lay him by the
heels.
Georgia too was on the watch for danger, since any injury to her lover
must cause suffering in her own devoted heart.
She imagined the three brave gentlemen when they returned after
finishing the wine and cigars would come as they went, in a bunch.
If this were the case she would receive ample warning of their
approach--when the voice of the siren was heard rumbling afar it would
be time for Roderic to say good bye, and to get down from that quarter
deck with all due alacrity.
A chance was given them to speak of the future in the land where fate
was taking them as fast as steam could drive, and Roderic improved the
opportunity to arrange it so that he might be sure of meeting Georgia
should fortune allow him to enter San Juan ere it was surrendered to
General Miles or those under him.
It looked rosy enough just then while her loved presence beamed upon
him--perhaps later on, with lowering clouds of misfortune shrouding his
future, Roderic might have cause for doubts and fears that it would
require all his personal valor to scatter.
The warning she counted on failed them, for Don Porfidio knew better
than most men when he had discovered a good thing, and could not be
prevailed upon to leave it short of an earthquake or a simoon.
Thus it chanced that Jerome returned alone, returned smoking a prime
weed, and possibly filled with the thought of a quiet little flirtation
with the general's charming niece, whose cold treatment of his Beau
Brummel advances had rather piqued his spirit of romantic interest,
and aroused his manly desire for conquest--returned so quietly that
his approach was quite unobserved by the two lovers among the steamer
chairs on the quarter deck until his head and shoulders loomed dimly
into view above the top of the short ladder.