LENISE ELROY
"You'll have to hurry," said Hackler impatiently as the seaman
slouched round for his boat.
"That's my craft over there; I'll have her alongside in a bit," said
the man.
"Can't we take this boat?"
"No, I'll get my own; besides, I'm used to her."
It seemed a long time to Carl before the man brought the boat
alongside and he was seated in her.
"Row faster!" said Carl.
"Wait until we're out of the harbor; it's rather dark."
"Go ahead, pull!"
The man obeyed. He was not such a skillful pilot as Brack; as they
reached the wall he pulled hard with his right and the boat crashed
into the stonework. Carl shot forward, bruising his face; there was
a sound of splintering timber; the boatman fell forward. When they
recovered, Carl cursed him for a blundering fool. The man found the
boat leaked badly; there was nothing for it but to row back as fast as
possible and take another.
This caused a delay and enabled Brack to put Hector aboard the
_Sea-mew_ and row round by the _London Belle_ in time.
"Who goes there?" shouted Brack.
Carl was sick of the whole business; he was glad to hear Brack's
voice. He had been to the _London Belle_, his story was correct. What
a fool he, Carl, had been for his pains!
There was no answer to Brack's hail. Carl said to the man: "Keep on
rowing; never mind him."
This did not suit Brack's purpose. He had no desire for Carl to go on
board the _London Belle_; that would upset everything.
Brack went after the boat, quickly overtaking it. By the dim light he
saw who was in it.
"You again!" he said with a laugh. "What yer scouring the bay at this
time o' night for? Looking for pirates?"
"No, smugglers!" said Carl.
"Hope ye'll catch 'em. Where do they hail from? I thought the days of
smuggling in Torbay were over. Better come with me; I'll row you back
quicker than him," said Brack.
An altercation ensued between the seamen. Brack had insulted Carl's
man; the wordy warfare became furious.
"Row back to the harbor!" shouted Carl in a rage. "And you sheer off
or it will be the worse for you."
This was all Brack wished to hear. If Hackler returned, there was no
danger.
"Keep cool," shouted Brack. "I reckon I'll be home first."
His mother was sitting up anxiously awaiting the news when he came.
"He's got safe away, but we had a narrow squeak for it," he said, and
told her what happened.
"I wish our Bill were on the _Sea-mew_," she said with a sigh.
"Maybe he will be some day, mother," said Brack.
The _Sea-mew_ forged ahead toward the North and Captain Ben watched at
Hector's bedside. The unfortunate man slept heavily but uneasily; he
groaned and raved incoherently, tossed from side to side, sometimes in
danger of falling out of the berth.
Toward six o'clock Ben sent for Abe Glovey, who came and took his
place while he went to meet Picton.
Ben had a difficult task before him. He wished to break the news
gently; the shock would be great; then they would have to think what
was best to be done.
Picton was out early; he had not slept well; strange dreams caused him
uneasiness.
"I've had a restless night. You look as though you had," he said to
Ben.
"I have; it has been a strange night. I've something to tell you," and
he proceeded to explain about Brack coming to the yacht.
"What on earth did he want at that hour of the night?" said Picton.
"He brought some one to see me."
Picton was surprised.
"Who was it?"
"A man," said Ben. He was not a good hand at this sort of thing; he
wanted to blurt it all out in his blunt way.
Picton smiled.
"Don't beat about the bush, Ben; you can't do it."
"That's a fact, I can't. You'll stand a shock, Picton, a very great
shock."
"Is it tremendous?"
"Yes," said Ben seriously. "The man Brack brought here last night is
aboard now; he's asleep in my cabin; he is very ill; he has suffered
a lot; he will require a great deal of care. We shall have to be very
careful."
Picton looked at him wonderingly. Gradually a light broke in upon him;
he turned pale and felt giddy. Ever since the boom of the gun startled
him he had had Hector in his mind.
"Was it Hector who escaped?" he asked.
Ben nodded.
"Was it Hector Brack brought to the _Sea-mew_?"
Again Ben nodded.
"Let us go to him," said Picton.
Ben wondered at his taking it so calmly, but he knew the strain must
be great. They went to Ben's cabin.
"Glovey's inside; I'll send him out," said Ben.
When the man was gone Picton stepped inside and looked at his brother
with tears in his eyes.
"What a wreck, Ben; it's awful."
Captain Ben turned away his head. There are some things worse than
death to look upon, cause more sorrow and pain.
Hector lay on his back. His face told a tale of misery such as few
care to hear, and none to suffer.
"Leave me, Ben; I'd rather bear this alone; I may get used to it in
time," said Picton in a hollow voice.
Ben put his hand on the younger man's shoulder for a moment, then went
out of the cabin; he never wished to feel again as he felt then,
in the whole course of his life. Picton watched Hector, heard his
ravings, shuddered at them, and wondered how it were possible for a
man to suffer so much and live. He stayed there over two hours,
and what his thoughts were during that time no one knew; there was,
however, throughout, one predominant resolve: Hector should never
go back to Dartmoor. He would sooner see him dead; it would be more
merciful. What roused Picton was the thought of the woman who had
done this thing; he held her responsible. She was older than Hector, a
woman subtle, versed in the wiles of the world, and she had lured him
to destruction. If ever a woman should suffer she ought. He wondered
how she would feel if she stood where he stood now, looking down at
the awful disaster of this man's life. Would she smile? She might; he
thought she would; he believed at that moment she was the worst woman
he had ever heard of. She must pay the penalty sooner or later; no
atonement on her part could wash out that. These thoughts stifled
him; he opened the door for fresh air. Ben's cabin was on deck; as
the light streamed in Hector awoke. Before Picton realized what had
happened his brother sprang from the berth, rushed past him, and had
Abe Glovey not caught him round the waist would have flung himself
overboard.
With difficulty they carried him, struggling, back to the cabin, and
laid him down exhausted.
"He's mad," said Picton.
"Temporarily, but we'll cure all that. I'm a bit of a doctor; leave
him to me," said Ben, trying to make the best of it.
"What are we to do?" asked Picton.
"You mean about concealing him?"
"Yes."
Ben said he had taken Abe Glovey into his confidence, and they had
decided the whole of the crew should know the facts.
"Will it be safe?" asked Picton.
"I am sure of it; they are all real good fellows, and it is our only
chance."
"You must call them together and explain it all," said Picton.
Ben said he would, and went on: "This is the opportunity we have
waited for--Hector's escape. How fortunate we came here! Providence
had a hand in this, it's more than mere coincidence, and as Providence
helps those who help themselves we must lend a hand. When Hector
recovers, it will be some weeks; he must remain on the _Sea-mew_ until
he becomes a changed man. In twelve months no one will know him who
has seen him now; the change will be wonderful, and it will be quite
as wonderful a change from what he was before the trial. Hector
Woodridge must cease to exist; he is dead; his body was never found
on the Moor because he probably fell down some disused mine or was
drowned in a still pond. That way safety lies, but there may be one
stumbling block."
"What is that?" asked Picton.
"Hector's desire to prove his innocence," said Ben.
"He must be persuaded that will be easier to do if it is thought he is
dead; we must try and do it."
"We have tried; there is only one person in the world who can prove
his innocence," said Ben.
"Lenise Elroy," said Picton.
"Yes, Lenise Elroy. There were three persons in the room at the time:
Raoul Elroy, Lenise Elroy, and Hector," said Ben.
"Hector said at the trial the weapon went off in a struggle," said
Picton.
"Lenise Elroy, with apparent reluctance, said Hector shot her
husband," said Ben.
"If this were not true, why did she say it?" asked Picton.
"She may have thought it true. Heaven knows what is in the mind of a
woman like that! But the truth will come out some day."
"Still, she ought to have shielded him, corroborated his story that it
was an accident," said Picton.
"The strangest part of the whole thing is that Hector has not told
even you what actually happened," said Ben.
"And I don't believe he will," said Picton.