Exhausted as he was by his long vigil and the effort needed to change
his shape, it was another hour or more before Chris could sleep that
night. The sound of that heavy but held-back breathing, so close to
Zachary and himself in the black hold, frightened Chris almost more,
once he was safe in his cabin and hammock, than it had at the time.
Zachary had bolted up the ladder like a frightened squirrel, with
Chris, as a fly, holding on for dear life. Even so, Zachary moved none
too fast to suit Chris, who flew off toward his own cabin in a
chattering fright. The lumpy form of Amos, asleep in his hammock, was
reassuring, but Chris lay shivering and puzzling for a long time
before he finally fell asleep.
The next day, lying on his stomach in the hot sun, he dozed with his
cheek on his folded hands, his mind going over and over the details of
the night before. Try as he would, Chris could not remember having
seen any member of the crew even near the hatch leading to the hold.
Let's see, he began in his mind, a bunch of the men were
singing--Bowie was one of 'em. They went down to their quarters first.
They were really closest to the hatch. Mr. Finney called Abner up to
the bridge, and Abner came back and went down a while later. Guess Mr.
Finney went to his quarters--I don't remember seeing him cross the
deck or come over that way at all.
Then--let's see--Captain Blizzard took a turn around the deck. It was
getting dark. He joked with the cook at the galley door, and probably
went on, for I didn't see him come by again. Next, Ned Cilley was
relieved at the helm by Elbert Jones, who took over. Ned went on down.
Or did he? Chris wrinkled his brow with concentration. I _guess_ so,
he thought, but I don't _know_ so. It looks to me as if it could have
been one of several people, and I'll be switched if I know who. I'll
keep my eyes open. Maybe whoever it was will give himself away somehow
and give me a clue.
The _Mirabelle_ was nearing Tahiti. The air was balmy, and already a
different fragrance pervaded it, together with a softer quality which
Chris now knew meant land.
At noon one day Captain Blizzard announced to Chris and Amos: "Should
the wind keep up as it is now, by nightfall or by dawn at the latest,
we should sight Tahiti. We've water and fresh stores to take on
there." He beamed over his many chins at the two boys. "'Tis a fair
place, is Tahiti, and one you lads will have an interest and a
pleasure in seeing."
Chris lost no time, as soon as he could do it without being noticed,
in hurrying down to his cabin. Locking the door, he took the conch
shell from his sea chest and held it to his ear. The voice of his
friend--so far distant now!--came to his ear and Chris smiled with
the pleasure this brief link with home gave him.
"Nearly to Tahiti, eh, my lad?" came Mr. Wicker's voice. "Then listen
carefully. Ask for a private interview with the Captain, and when you
are alone with him, tell him that these are my orders: He is to sail
on past his usual anchorage, making all speed. You will know the
reason for it at sundown today. Tell Captain Blizzard to go around the
point--he will know--and continue for twelve leagues farther on. This
must be done by night, for he must not slacken. Then he will see by
moonlight a reef. The water is phosphorescent, and when it breaks over
the reef it will shine in the night. Then must he heave to, and you
will go over the side, and as a fish, find out the channel, for the
coral is dangerous and the way into the cove almost impossible to find
even by day.
[Illustration]
"The land there is like a cup with a chip in its rim; the chip is the
entrance to the cove. This entrance, overhung by slanting trees and
jungle, is just large enough to allow for the passage of the
_Mirabelle_.
"Nevertheless," went on Mr. Wicker's voice in the shell, "the masts
and the sides of the ship could be seen from the sea. So with all
haste, once anchored in the cove, the men must go ashore, bring back
palm fronds and leafy branches and camouflage--as you say in your
time--the _Mirabelle_ from her topmost mast to the water's edge.
"Let the men rest, but by midafternoon have them hide along the shore
facing the sea, for they shall all be witnesses to what is to
transpire. Then you must do your part, for you must board Claggett
Chew's ship and see to it that his vessel does not gain many days'
advantage over the _Mirabelle_. By daylight the _Mirabelle_ will find
her way safely to sea again, and you will rejoin her with the aid of
the rope." The voice paused and then enquired, "Is all this clear?"
Chris tapped three times, his heart thumping with excitement at the
prospect of the imminent action.
Going up to the Captain's cabin, he took advantage of a moment when
Mr. Finney and Amos were outside to ask Captain Blizzard if he might
speak with him alone.
"Certainly my boy," boomed out the Captain, his blue eyes abruptly
keen and penetrating. "Mr. Finney will be some time on deck. We cannot
be overheard in here."
He motioned to a stool as he let himself fall heavily into a teakwood
armchair made especially for his bulk. But Chris was too excited to
sit down, and delivered his message standing.
When he described how in the night--that very night, he realized with
a jumping pulse--he was to go over the side of the _Mirabelle_ and
find out the channel, the Captain looked at him piercingly.
"How now, lad," he said in his deep voice, "how are you to find the
channel in the dark?"
This was a question Chris was unprepared for, but he took a long
breath which gave him a moment of extra time, and then replied.
"I--I see uncommonly well by night, Captain sir," he said, "and I'm a
very strong swimmer."
His face froze with nervousness that this might not do as an answer,
and he stood stiff and still before Captain Blizzard. The Captain sat
forward in his chair looking at him for a long moment, considering.
Then he said: "Well, I do not care for it, I cannot say I do. This
ship is more to me than wife or mother or family. She's all I have,
young man, and you can understand that to trust her to so young a lad,
clever though you may be, to go safely past jagged coral reefs into a
cove I never even guessed at, well"--he threw out a hand and then
rubbed his chin with it--"You can understand I do not fancy it.
However," and he leaned back in his chair again, "I take orders from
Mr. Wicker, the owner of the _Mirabelle_, and since he says so, this
is how it must be."
He paused, fingering his lower lip and looking sideways in a
reflective fashion at Chris standing before him.
"He told me you would have information from him for me, from time to
time. We shall say no more, but I trust you understand the
responsibility you have? This ship, its cargo, and its men will be in
your hands."
Chris felt cold for a moment, chilled as he had never been before, but
he spoke up firmly. "Yes sir. I think I can do it safely, or I should
not try, sir."
Captain Blizzard's round pink face creased in his winning smile. "Aye,
aye. No doubt. Just bear it in mind at the time, eh lad?"
"I shall sir," Chris replied.
He then went on to describe what else was to follow--the covering of
the ship with leaves to make it blend with its surroundings.
Camouflage was not a word the Captain, or anyone else of his time, yet
understood.
"After we see--whatever we are to see," Chris ended, "I'll be absent
for a while. What can be said during that time, sir?" Chris thought to
ask. Captain Blizzard pondered for some minutes, and Chris was
grateful that he asked no questions. At last he answered.
[Illustration]
"I shall say you have a tropical fever, Christopher," he said. "I am
somewhat skilled in medicaments--I have to be, as captain of a ship,
and the crew know it. I shall say that you are in my own cabin so that
I can care for you. I shall allow no one to enter it but myself. It
will be a most contagious fever for a time," he added with his eyes
twinkling. "I shall bring you food with my own hands. Nothing
much--broth and gruel, and I daresay I can eat it myself if I cannot
throw it out the porthole!" He winked at Chris. "Have no fear on that
score, Christopher." He looked steadily at the boy in front of him.
"You have your part to carry out, I have mine."
Not since he had left Mr. Wicker had Chris felt such confidence as he
did in the words and actions of Captain Blizzard. He knew now that his
absence, for as long as he had to be away, would be covered up and
satisfactorily accounted for.
Their conversation had taken some little while. As they went over for
the last time all the details of what lay ahead of them in the next
few hours, Chris, glancing out the windows of the Captain's cabin, saw
the splendors of a tropical sunset streaking the sky.
"Oh sir!" he cried, "Mr. Wicker said we'd know the reason why we must
take shelter tomorrow at sundown today. And now it _is_ sundown!"
With quite surprising silence and agility for so large a man, Captain
Blizzard was out of his chair and half-way to the door of his cabin
before Chris had much more than finished speaking. Over his shoulder,
continuing with rapid quiet steps to the bridge of the _Mirabelle_, he
said: "Run down to your cabin and fetch up that good spyglass of
yours, my boy. We shall have a good look, for as you know, night falls
in a few moments after sundown in these waters."
Racing to his cabin and back, even in those few seconds Chris could
see a change in the sky. The brilliance of the colors, their
extravagant and awe-inspiring cloud effects, had taken on an intensity
of light which meant they were at their peak.
Standing beside Captain Blizzard on the bridge, Mr. Finney and Amos
just beyond, Chris and the Captain looked through Chris's powerful
spyglass at the wide stretch of the horizon.
All around lay only the sea and the dazzling sky. Not even a porpoise
or flying fish broke the surface of the water which was placid save
for the long swells over which the _Mirabelle_ dipped her white sails.
The color ebbed from the sky as if drained from some celestial bowl,
and in the place of the scarlets and turquoise, the clear yellows and
the plums, came a deep blue that was the forerunner of a fine clear
night.
Chris turned slowly, his glass to his eyes, searching the edge of what
was now their world, and especially the line where the sea and sky
meet.
All at once, as if a white dagger had stabbed the rim of the ocean,
white sails grew upward against the encroaching night, and Chris found
what he had been looking for.
"There sir!" he cried, pointing to the distance, and the Captain and
Mr. Finney swung their glasses to where his finger led, far astern of
the _Mirabelle_.
Captain Blizzard's round cheerful face hardened as he looked, and Mr.
Finney's lugubrious countenance seemed positively despairing, while
Amos hopped on one foot crying: "Leave me look through your glass,
Chris! What do you see? What is it you-all see?"
It was Captain Blizzard who answered him.
"We see the _Venture_, Amos, Claggett Chew's ship, coming up fast
astern. Let us all pray that the wind holds."