A CONSPIRACY
There was a moment's silence when the engineer had finished his
unusual and most entertaining narrative. It seemed to them so vivid
had been his story, that instead of being on a ship in the mid-Pacific
in the midst of a blustery rainstorm that they were in far-off Russia,
and as the tale ended they could see a picture before their eyes.
There was the long train, covered and crusted with snow, standing
alongside the station. In the light of large lamps shining brilliantly
upon the snow, was the gigantic Russian in his fur coat, arm-in-arm
with the slight, dark American. Their steps were directed towards the
long dining-room that shone in singular attraction out of the storm
and cold. The many round tables set with glowing whiteness and with
gleam of silver. The high-backed chairs of some black wood. At one end
of the long dining-room a tea urn of huge proportions shining like
silver. So the boys sat for some minutes in complete silence, under
the spell of the story; then Tom spoke up:
"I should have thought, Mr. Berwick, that you would have been fired
out of the carriage at St. Petersburg when his Nibs arrived."
"It was curious," admitted the engineer. "I have never quite
understood it."
"I reckon it was your audacity that helped you out," said Juarez.
"Or, rather helped you in," remarked the incorrigible Jo.
"I have thought of that, as an explanation," said Berwick.
"Or, you may have resembled some High Duke or other," suggested Jim,
"and that let you through."
"I'm greatly flattered," said Berwick with a slight smile. "That may
have been the solution, but I have partially figured that my success
was due to the odd character of my Russian friend. I discovered
later that he was a Grand Duke, well known in a social rather than
a political way and famous for his eccentricities. He spent much
of his time in Paris and favored foreigners rather than his own
countrymen, so I was probably taken for one of his French cronies.
I saw him some years later in Paris, but I did not try to revive the
acquaintanceship, but then I was not hungry." Jo was about to open
his mouth to make a pun when Jim interfered.
"Don't you dare to say anything about being hampered or unhampered,"
he warned. The engineer laughed heartily. He liked the boys for their
boyish qualities, which were very refreshing to him.
"How did you ever get down to this work?" asked Tom bluntly, "after
you had been hobnobbing with Dukes and living in Paris?"
"I do not believe you boys will understand me," he replied musingly,
"it would not be in the nature of things that you should. I did not
come down to this work, but up to it. After traveling for a great many
years over the world, I got to living a very idle and useless life
on the continent. But it palled on me after a while. I was in good
health, and had money, but I was tired of myself, thoroughly and
entirely bored. By the way, I might illustrate this unpleasant
condition of things by a high and mighty example. Did you ever hear of
Charles IX. of France?" This was a question the boys were anxious to
answer, just to show that they knew something besides roughing it, and
to prove their intelligence to the engineer, who in a quiet way always
put them on their mettle, but to tell the truth they were rather
rusty on all branches of learning, but Jo and Tom were both fond of
history and had read a good deal of it at odd times. Tom was the first
to jump into the ring of knowledge, with the four-ounce gloves of
information, but ignorance ducked his first wild swing and was thus
saved a knockout.
"Oh, yes," he replied glibly, "Charles IX. was the son of Henry of
Navarre." The engineer shook his head slightly.
"You are away off, Tom," declared Jo. "His mother was Catherine de
Medici and Henri III. was his brother. Maybe he was the nephew or
cousin of Henry of Navarre. I wish I had a history here and I would
look it up."
"Partly right and partly wrong, Jo," said Berwick. "Catherine de
Medici was the mother of Charles IX., whose sister, Margaret of
Navarre, married Henry of Navarre. But this is the point I want to
make. Charles IX. finally got so tired of the pomps and ceremonies of
the court after a while that he had a forge fixed up in his palace and
there he used to make and hammer out horseshoes. That," he concluded
with a smile, "is why I took up my work. I was tired of useless
idleness. There is a constant live interest in this business of
running an engine that I like. Now I must get at it, and good-night
to you."
"Good-night, Mr. Berwick," replied the boys, and made their way out
of the engine-room on to the storm-swept deck, all except Juarez,
who stayed to work with the engineer.
The boys separated to their respective duties. Jeems took the boy's
task of stoking, Jim was at the wheel, sending Pete below to the
forecastle to take a good sleep. Tom and Jo were detailed to go to
their respective cabins and turn in for the night, as the old captain
had rather perversely taken it into his head to stand watch on the
bridge, though Jim had tried to dissuade him.
"It won't do your rheumatism any good, Captain," warned Jim. "It's
mighty wet and cold on the bridge and the wind is rushing fierce."
"Trying to make me out an old man," growled the captain, much
aggrieved. "I guess I can stand as much as any of you boys. I've
weathered many a storm in my day."
"You are tough as a knot yet, Captain," said Jim soothingly.
So it happened that the captain in his heavy storm coat stood on the
bridge, while the rain swished and swirled over the tossing seas, and
swept the decks, so that it was much pleasanter in the cabin than
abroad, but Jim enjoyed nothing more in sailoring than to be at the
wheel a night like this, guiding his craft plunging through the heavy
waves in the darkness. There was a fascination about it, the obedience
of the ship to the helm, the following of the mysterious guidance of
the needle, the standing fixed against the rush of wind and rain, the
familiar feeling of the spokes of the wheel, like grasping the bridle
reins when riding a spirited horse, all this went to make up Jim's
liking for this work.
Now being anxious for the welfare of Tom and Jo, let us see if they
are safely tucked away in their little cribs. We find that they are
not, so mischief must be afoot, and it is. It seems that neither Jo
nor Tom were in any mood to go to sleep, and their minds were busy
with the story that the engineer had told them. They felt a desire to
emulate him. So they lay awake and thought what they might do to make
life interesting on the ocean wave.
Tom thought of surprising the captain and Jim by making weird sounds
back of the cabin on the quarter deck and robing himself in a white
sheet at the same time. A most excellent plan indeed, both worthies
being such timid characters. But Tom gave up the idea of this
surprise for fear the tables might be turned on him and then he would
get a taste of the rope's end for fair, so he had another thought
coming.
The idea that came to Jo in the silent night watches was to give Jeems
a benefit while he was busy stoking, but there was one difficulty here
that it was almost impossible to get down into the hold without being
discovered, so that plan had to be given up. Then an inspiration came
to Tom.
He got hastily up, and went to Jo's cabin, which was just forward of
his on the main deck. You see there were three cabins on a side; each
of the boys had one and the engineer the sixth. Tom did not stop to
knock, and slid Jo's cabin door noiselessly back, but the wakeful Jo
heard him.
"Who's there?" he demanded in a gruff voice.
"Don't shoot. It's me, Tom," replied a low voice.
"Well, Mr. Tom, what are you doing up so early in the morning?"
inquired Jo.
"I've got a scheme," said Tom in the low voice of a conspirator.
"Let's surprise old Pete and the boy in the forecastle."
"It's dark as a cave down there," said Jo. "They will be sure to hear
us."
"We will wear our moccasins," replied Tom, "and there isn't any
bric-a-brac to knock over."
"I tell you what!" cried Jo, exhilarated by a sudden and brilliant
idea. "Let's rub matches on our faces, when we go down."
"Same as Jim did when we were in the Hollow Mountain, and he surprised
those Hawaiian Priests!" exclaimed Tom. "Gee! but you have got a good
head on you, Jo. That's what we will do."
"Here's plenty of matches," said Jo. "We must be careful and not let
them get too damp. Another thing, we will have to look out and not let
the Captain see us, or Jim, either, or there will be something
brewing."
"What do you suppose the old gentleman would do to us if he saw us
snooping along?" inquired Tom apprehensively, for he stood in much awe
of the captain.
"You had better stay in your little crib if you are so alarmed,"
remarked Jo.
"I'm ready when you are," said Tom gruffly.
Then they started moving silently along the deck, though the fierce
wind that swept the ship gave them an excellent protection. Still they
proceeded very cautiously, keeping close to the galley and the wall
of the engine-room. Just then the shepherd's dog jumped up from the
shelter where he was waiting for his master to come up from below.
He barked furiously at first when he saw the two shadowy forms coming
towards him, then Jo spoke to him in a low voice, and the dog,
recognizing him, lay down in his dry shelter again. But the captain
was on the alert. He came to that side of the quarter deck and looked
over.