THE MAN OF THE EVIL EYE
"The captain's compliments, sir, and will Ensign Darrin report to
him immediately?"
Darrin had dressed for breakfast the morning after, but there
were yet some minutes to spare before the call would come to the
ward-room mess.
"My compliments to the captain, and I will report immediately,"
Ensign Dave replied.
Turning, he put on his sword and drew on his white gloves. Then,
with a glance over himself, he left his quarters, walking briskly
toward the commanding officer's quarters.
Captain Gales, at his desk, received the young ensign's salute.
On the desk lay the papers in the matter of the night before.
"Ensign, I have gone over the papers in last night's affair,"
began the "Old Man," as a naval vessel's commander is called,
when not present.
"Yes, sir?"
The captain's face was inexpressive; it was impossible to tell
what was going on in his mind.
"I have given careful attention to your report, and also to that
of Lieutenant Cantor. I have talked with Mr. Carmody, and have
asked Coxswain Riley and Corporal Ross some questions. And so
I have come to the decision-----"
Here the captain paused for an instant.
How Dave Darrin's heart thumped under his ribs. The next few
words would convey either censure, criticism or exoneration!
"-----that Lieutenant Cantor's charges are not well sustained,"
continued, Captain Gales.
Dave Darrin could not repress the gleam of joy that flashed into
his eyes. The memory of the men killed under his command and the
present sufferings of the wounded had preyed upon him through a
long, wakeful night.
But here was a veteran in the service, prepared, after hearing
all possible testimony, to declare that he, Darrin, was not blamable!
"I had hoped," resumed Captain Gales, "that the affair on shore
could he conducted without firing a single shot, However, Ensign
Darrin, the fact has been established to my satisfaction that
you did your work well; that you did not allow your men to fire
a shot until you had been attacked in force. Nor did you fire
upon Mexican troups or reputable natives, but upon a body of
bandits---outlaws---who are enemies of all mankind. Not to have
returned the fire, under such circumstances, would have been
censurable conduct. That several times through the night you held
your party's fire, and at no time fired oftener than appeared to be
absolutely necessary, is established by the eye-witnesses with whom
I have talked. Nor were the losses to your command higher than
might have been looked for in a fight against superior numbers, such
as you encountered. I have endorsed these views of mine upon
Lieutenant Cantor's report and also upon your own. I can find no
fault with your course of action."
"I cannot tell you, sir, how highly I appreciate your decision."
"Of course you do, Darrin!" cried Captain Gales, holding out his
hand. "No young officer in the service enjoys being censured
when he has used the very best judgment with which Heaven has
endowed him. No man of earnest effort, likes to have his motives
questioned. And I am happy to say, Ensign Darrin, that I regard
you as the same faithful, hardworking officer that I considered
you when you had not been more than three days aboard the '_Long
Island_.' I congratulate you, Ensign, upon your skilful handling
of a bad situation last night. Now, I am not going to keep you
here longer, for mess call is due in two minutes, and you will
want your breakfast."
With a heart full of joy and gratitude Dave hastened back to his
quarters, where he laid aside his sword and gloves.
Just outside the ward-room door he encountered John Carmody, who
appeared to have been waiting there purposely.
"Now, Mr. Darrin," cried the planter, holding out his hand, "I
want to try to give you some idea of my gratitude for the magnificent
work you did last night for my dear ones and our friends. I don't
know how to begin, but-----"
"Please don't try to begin," laughed Dave. "An officer of the
American Navy should never be thanked for the performance of his
duty. I can't tell you how delighted I am that my efforts were
successful, and that the scoundrels, who had tried to violate
Mexico's sacred duty of hospitality, were roundly punished. Tell
me, sir, how are the ladies this morning?"
"All of them are in excellent spirits, Mr. Darrin. I suppose
you have not seen them yet. They are in full possession of the
captain's quarters, and are at breakfast now."
The breakfast call sounded, and in twos and threes the officers
of the "_Long Island_," passed into the ward-room.
John Carmody was provided with a seat beside the chaplain.
"Darrin, you lucky dog!" called Lieutenant-Commander Denton, as
soon as the officers were seated.
"Am I really fortunate?" Dave smiled back.
"Yes; for you were privileged to order the firing of the first
shots in the Mexican war that is now close at hand. You are, or
will be, historical, Darrin!"
Dave's face clouded as he replied, gravely:
"And I am also aware, sir, that I had the misfortune to lose the
first men killed."
"That was regrettable," replied another officer, "but we of the
Navy expect to go down some day. The two men who were killed
died for the honor and credit of the service, and of the Flag,
which we serve. It is the lot of all of us, Darrin. If war comes
many a soldier and sailor will find an honored grave, and perhaps
not a few here will lose their mess numbers. It's just the way
of the service, Darrin!"
"Cantor, you were out of luck last night," observed Lieutenant
Holton, who sat next to him.
"In what way?" asked Cantor, but he flushed deeply.
"You had only a boat ride, and missed the fight," replied Holton.
"Oh!" replied Cantor, and felt relieved, for he had thought that
Holton referred to something else.
"Where are we heading now?" asked Dave.
"Didn't you notice the course?" inquired Dalzell.
"About westerly, isn't it?"
"Yes; we are bound for Vera Cruz," Danny Grin answered. "We shall
be there in two hours. Mr. Carmody and his party have no notion
of going back to their plantation at present. Instead, they'll
take a steamer to New York."
Breakfast was nearly over when an orderly appeared, bringing an
envelope, which he handed to Commander Bainbridge.
"Pardon me," said the executive officer to the officers on either
side of him. Then he examined the paper contained in the envelope.
"Gentlemen," called Commander Bainbridge, "I have some information
that I will announce to you, briefly, as soon as the meal is over."
Every eye was turned on the executive officer. After a few moments
he continued:
"Yesterday, at Tampico, an officer and boatcrew of men went ashore
in a launch from the 'dolplin.' The boat flew the United States
Flag, and the officer and men landed to attend to the purchase
of supplies. An officer of General Huerta's Federal Army arrested
our officer and his men. They were released a little later, but
Admiral Mayo demanded a formal apology and a salute of twenty-one
guns to our insulted Flag. Some sort of apology has been made
to Admiral Mayo, but it was not satisfactory, and the gun salute
was refused. Admiral Mayo has sent the Mexican Federal commander
at Tampico something very much like an ultimatum. Unless a
satisfactory apology is made, and the gun salute is fired, the
Washington government threatens to break off all diplomatic
relations with Mexico and to make reprisals. That is the full
extent of the news, so far as it has reached us by wireless."
"_War_!" exploded Lieutenant-Commander Eaton.
"We mustn't jump too rapidly at conclusions," Commander Bainbridge
warned his hearers.
"But it _does_ mean war, doesn't it?" asked Lieutenant Holton.
"That chap, Huerta, will be stiff-necked about yielding a gun
salute after it has been refused, and Mexican pride will back
him up in it. The Mexicans hate us as only jealous people can
hate. The Mexicans won't give in. On the other hand, our country
has always been very stiff over any insult to the Flag. So what
hope is there that war can be averted? Reprisals between nations
are always taken by the employment of force, and surely any force
that we employ against Mexico can end in nothing less than war."
As the officers left the table nothing was talked of among them
except the news from Tampico.
The rumor spread rapidly forward. Cheering was heard from the
forecastle.
"The jackies have the word," chuckled Dan Dalzell. "They're sure
to be delighted over any prospect of a fight."
"If we have a real fight," sighed Darrin, his mind on the night
before, "a lot of our happy jackies will be sent home in boxes
to their friends."
"A small lot the jackies care about that," retorted Danny Grin.
"Show me, if you can, anywhere in the world, a body of men who
care less about facing death than the enlisted men in the United
States Navy!"
"Of course we should have interfered in Mexico long ago," Dave
went on. "Serious as the Flag incident is, there have been outrages
ten-fold worse than that. I shall never be able to down the feeling
that we have been, as a people, careless of our honor in not long
ago stepping in to put a stop to the outrages against Americans
that have been of almost daily occurrence in Mexico."
"If fighting does begin," asked Dalzell, suddenly, "where do we
of the Navy come in? Shelling a few forts, possibly, and serving
in the humdrum life of blockade duty."
"If we land in Mexico," Dave retorted, "there will be one stern
duty that will fall to the lot of the Navy. The Army won't be
ready in time for the first landing on Mexican soil. That will
be the duty of the Navy. If we send a force of men ashore at
Tampico, or possibly Vera Cruz, it will have to be a force of
thousands of our men, for the Mexicans will resist stubbornly,
and there'll be a lot of hard fighting for the Navy before Washington
has the Army in shape to land. Never fear, Danny boy! We are
likely to see enough active service!"
Dave soon went to the bridge to stand a trick of watch duty with
Lieutenant Cantor.
For an hour no word was exchanged between the two officers. Cantor
curtly transmitted orders through petty officers on the deck below.
Dave kept to his own, the starboard side of the bridge, his alert
eyes on his duty. There was no chance to exchange even a word
on the all-absorbing topic of the incident at Tampico.
Vera Cruz, lying on a sandy stretch of land that was surrounded
by marshes, was soon sighted, and the "_Long Island_" stood in
toward the harbor in which the Stars and Stripes fluttered from
several other American warships lying at anchor.
A messenger from the executive officer appeared on the bridge
with the information that, after the ship came to anchor, Ensign
Dalzell would be sent in one of the launches to convey the Carmody
party ashore.
There was no chance for the rescued ones to come forward to say
good-bye to Darrin on the bridge, for they went over the port
side into the waiting launch.
Dalzell, however, manoeuvred the launch so that she passed along
the ship's side.
A call, and exclamations in feminine voices attracted Dave's notice.
"Mr. Darrin, Mr. Darrin!" called four women at once, as they waved
their handkerchiefs to him. Dave, cap in hand, returned their
salute.
"Thank you again, Mr. Darrin."
"We won't say good-bye," called Mrs. Carmody, "for we shall hope
to meet you and your splendid boat-crew again."
At that the jackies on the forecastle set up a tremendous cheering.
Not until Dave had gone off duty did another launch put out from
the "_Long Island_." That craft bore to one of the docks two
metal caskets. Brief services had been held over the remains of
the sailor and the marine killed the night before, and now the
bodies were to be sent home to the relatives.
After luncheon a messenger summoned Ensign Darrin to Commander
Bainbridge's office.
"Ensign Darrin," said the executive officer, "here are some
communications to be taken ashore to the office of the American
consul. You will use number three launch, and take a seaman
orderly with you."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Darrin went over the side, followed by Seaman Rogers, who had
been in the landing party the night before, Both were soon ashore.
Rogers, who knew where the consul's office was, acted as guide.
Crowds on the street eyed the American sailors with no very pleasant
looks.
"Those Greasers are sullen, sir," said Seaman Rogers.
"I expected to find them so," Ensign Darrin answered.
They had not gone far when a man astride a winded, foam-flocked
horse rode up the street.
"Do you know that man, sir?" asked Seaman Rogers, in an excited
whisper.
"The bandit, Cosetta!" Dave muttered.
"The same, sir."
But Darrin turned and walked on again, for he saw that the recognition
had been mutual.
Espying the young ensign, Cosetta reined in sharply before a group
of Mexicans, whose glances he directed at Dave Darrin.
"There he goes, the turkey-cock, strutting young officer," cried
Cosetta harshly in his own tongue. "Eye the young Gringo upstart
well. You must know him again, for he is to be a marked man in the
streets of Vera Cruz!"
It was a prediction full of ghastly possibilities for Ensign
Dave Darrin!