His Unknown Wife

  CHAPTER X

  THE VIGIL

  Sturgess awoke, too. Soon they were talking freely, and Maseden not onlylearned the heart-breaking story of the dozen refugees pent in thechart-house, but was told how he himself came by the blow on the headwhich took away his senses.

  Madge Gray, or Forbes, as he must now call her, was moved to thankProvidence for the intervention of the Spanish sailor.

  "If that man hadn't picked you up, Mr. Maseden," she said, "you wouldhave been washed overboard a few seconds later. Then nothing could havesaved any of us."

  She seemed to be completely unaware of the sensation she created byaddressing her rescuer by name. Maseden felt Nina's nervous littlestart, but Sturgess put his astonishment into words.

  "Maseden!" he cried. "You know our friend, then?"

  "I--I heard his name before--on the ship," came the faltered answer.

  "Well, you heard more than _I_ did.... Are you the mysteriousEnglish-speaking _vaquero_ who lived in the forecastle?" and thequestioner bent a puzzled face sideways to try and discern the otherman's features.

  "Yes," said Maseden promptly. "There need be no mystery about it now. Igot into trouble in Cartagena, shot the president-elect, and escaped inthe disguise of a Spanish cowboy."

  "Gee!" exclaimed Sturgess.

  For some reason best known to himself he displayed no further curiosityin the matter, though he might well have wondered how Madge Forbes hadcome to identify that picturesque-looking person, Ramon Aliones, withthe American whose exploits had set all Cartagena agog the day beforethe _Southern Cross_ sailed.

  There was an uncomfortable pause, which Maseden broke by a laugh.

  "So you see, Mr. Sturgess, I owed you a good turn, though you neverguessed it. By your kindness in letting me carry your bag and share yourboat I got away from my pursuers without attracting attention."

  "Gee!" said Sturgess again.

  His comment probably denoted bewilderment. It may also have shown thatthe speaker had just ascertained something which supplied food forthought. In the half light Maseden allowed himself to smile, because theconceit instantly leaped into his mind that his fellow-countryman mighthave been told of that amazing marriage, and was now engaged in fittingtogether certain pieces of the puzzle.

  If, for instance, Sturgess suspected that Madge Forbes was the lady whofigured in that extraordinary episode, he must realize that in payingher such marked attention during the voyage he had placed himself, ifnot her, in a somewhat equivocal position.

  "I had reason to believe that the captain recognized me," went onMaseden. "Probably that is how Miss Forbes came to hear my name."

  "Miss Forbes!"

  There was no mistaking the new note of surprise, even of annoyance, inSturgess's voice. He was gathering information at a rapid rate, andevidently found some difficulty in assimilating it.

  "Yes," broke in Nina Forbes. "That is my sister's name, and my own. Mr.Gray was our stepfather. We passed as his daughters while traveling. Thearrangement prevented all sorts of misunderstandings. In any event, itconcerned none but ourselves. I only mentioned the fact casually to Mr.Maseden a few minutes ago."

  Some men might have caught a rebuke in the girl's words. Not soSturgess.

  "I'm tickled to death at hearing it, anyhow," he said cheerfully. "Theone thing I couldn't understand was how you two girls could be that poorchap's daughters.... Well, now we're all properly introduced, let's talkas though we really knew one another. Has any one the beginning of anotion as to the time."

  Then Maseden remembered that he was wearing a watch which he had woundthat morning. He produced it, and was able to discern the hands.

  "A quarter past two," he announced.

  A silence fell on them. Somehow the intimate and homely fact that one ofthe little company possessed a watch which had not stopped served ratherto enhance than allay the sense of peril and abandonment which theirbrief talk had dispelled for the moment. A soldier who took part in thatglorious but terrible retreat from Mons confessed afterwards that hisspirit quailed once, and that was when he read the route names on aLondon suburban omnibus lying disabled and abandoned by the roadside.

  The Marble Arch, Edgware Road, Maida Vale and Cricklewood--what hadthese familiar localities to do with the crash of shell-fire and thespattering of bullets on the _pave_? Similarly, the forlorn castaways onHanover Island felt that a watch was an absurdly civilized thing amongthe loud-voiced savageries of wind and wave.

  The moonlight died away, too, with a suddenness that was almostunnerving. True, the moon had only vanished behind a cloud-bank. But herface was veiled effectually, and the growing darkness soon showed thatshe would not be visible again that night.

  They tried to sleep, but the effort failed. Lack of food was a moreserious matter now than mere physical exhaustion. All four were youngand vigorous enough to withstand fatigue, and to wake up refreshed afterthe brief repose they had already enjoyed.

  But they were stiff and cramped, and their blood was beginning to yieldto a deadly chill. Though they huddled together as closely as possible,there was no resisting the steady encroachment of the bitter cold.

  At last Maseden counseled that they all stand up, and, despite theurgent need of conserving their energies, obtain some measure of warmthby stretching their limbs and breathing deeply.

  He even suggested that they should sing, but the effort to start apopular chorus was such a lamentable failure that they laughed dismally.

  Then he tried story telling. He judged, and quite rightly, that themajority of his hearers would be deeply interested in a recital of hisown recent adventures.

  Greatly daring, he left out no detail, and, in a darkness which wasalmost tangible because of its density, he was well aware how alert wasevery ear to catch the true version of an extraordinary marriage.

  No one interrupted. They just listened intently. Once, when he asked ifhe was wearying them by a too exact description of events at the ranchafter his escape, Nina Forbes said quietly:

  "Please tell us everything, Mr. Maseden. I have never heard anythinghalf so interesting. You have caused me to forget where I am, and I cangive you no higher praise."

  At last he made an end, dwelling purposely on the light note of histroubles with the Spanish sailor who claimed a vested right in him afterthe incident of the falling block.

  Sturgess put a direct question or two.

  "You don't seem to have any sort of a notion as to who the lady was?" hebegan.

  "I only know that her Christian name was Madeleine," answered Masedenreadily. "She was about to sign the register when the idea of gettingout of the Castle dawned on me, and, from that instant, I thought ofnothing else. I hadn't much time, you know. The plan had to be concoctedand carried out almost in the same breath. And there was no room forfailure. The least slip, either in time or method, and I was a deadman."

  "Madeleine!" mused Sturgess aloud. "She was English, or American, Isuppose?"

  "American, I imagine. Undoubtedly one or the other."

  "And that fat Steinbaum was the marriage broker! I know Steinbaum--athug, if ever there was one.... What are you going to do about it, Mr.Maseden?"

  "Do about what?"

  "Well, if you win clear from this present rather doubtfulproposition--and we're backing you in that for all we're worth, ain'twe, girls?--you're tied up to a wife whom you don't know, and I guessthe one place in which you're likely to find her is off the map for youfor keeps."

  "I'm not versed in the law," laughed Maseden, "but it will be a queerthing if I should be compelled to regard myself as married to a ladywhom I have seen, certainly, but do not want."

  "How do you know you don't want her?"

  "I know nothing whatsoever about her."

  "That's just it. That's where you may be hipped. She may be a peach, thefinest ever. Suppose, for the sake of argument, one of these two, MissMadge or Miss Nina--"

  "The lady's name happened to be Madeleine," put in Madge instantly. "Ifthe ceremony w
as meant to be valid she would undoubtedly sign her rightname."

  "Just so. You missed my point."

  Maseden thought it advisable to come to the rescue. He had conveyed tothe one vitally interested listener that her secret was safe for thetime, and this should suffice.

  "I am inclined to think that I shall be proof against my nominal wife'scharms, no matter how great they may be," he said emphatically. "Thereis a romantic side to the affair, I admit, but I cannot blind myself tothe fact that it possesses a prosaic one as well. Association with askunk like Steinbaum is hardly the best of credentials, in the firstplace. Secondly, one asks what motive any woman could have in wishing tomarry a man condemned to die. I'm not flattering myself that my personalqualifications carried much weight.

  "Admittedly, the lady wanted to wed because I was about to disappear. Igive her the credit of believing that she would never have gone throughwith the farce if she had the least reason to think that I would not bedead within the next half hour. But the fact remains that she wascallous and calculating--whether to serve her own ends or some otherperson's is immaterial.... No, Mr. Sturgess; when, if ever, I choose awife, it is long odds against her name being Madeleine."

  Nina Forbes laughed, though her teeth chattered with the cold.

  "The calm way in which men speak of 'choosing' a wife always amuses me,"she said. "If any man told me he had 'chosen' me I should feel inclinedto box his ears."

  "It isn't the best of words," put in Sturgess promptly, "but it conveysa real compliment. A fellow meets a girl, _the_ girl, and someelectrical arrangement jangles at the back of his head. 'This is _it_,'says a voice. 'Go to it, good and hard,' and he goes. That's the onlysort of choice he's given. The girl can always turn him down, you know.Still, she can't help feeling flattered. She says to herself, 'That poorfellow, Charles K. Sturgess, is only a mutt, but he did think me thebest ever, so he had good taste.' What do you think, Miss Madge?"

  Then he and the others discovered that Madge was crying. The frivolouschatter intended to hide a dread reality had failed in its object. Theywere shivering with cold again, and ever more conscious of gnawinghunger. The prospect of escape was more than doubtful. Fate seemed to beplaying a pitiless game with every soul on board the _Southern Cross_,having swept some to instant death, while retaining others fordestruction by idle whim. The renewed darkness, the continuous uproarof the reef, had broken the girl's nerve.

  Maseden fancied that he had placed too great a strain on her bydetailing with such precision the sequence of events during thosecrowded hours at Cartagena.

  "I think," he said gravely, "that we ought to lie down again, and awaitpatiently the coming of daylight. The sun rises, no matter what else mayhappen, and dawn cannot be long delayed now."

  They obeyed him. They looked to him for guidance, but they were glad hedid not call for any effort. Even the light-hearted, apparentlyirresponsible Sturgess, who, if he had to die, would depart this lifewith a jest on his lips, was stilled by the sheer hopelessness of theircondition.

  After one of those hours which seem to belong to eternity rather than totime, a quality of grayness made itself felt in the overwhelming gloom.Soon the serrated edge of the opposite wall of rock became a fixed andrigid thing against a background of cloud. In this new world of horrorand suffering the break of day, to all appearances, came from the west!

  This phenomenon was easily explained. Near by, on the east, rose thetremendous peaks of the Andes, so the plain of the sea on the westernhorizon caught the first shafts of light long before they filtered intothe fiords and gorges of the coast-line tucked in at the base of thosegreat hills.

  Not that it mattered a jot to those desolate ones where the sun rosethat day. They would have given little heed had the earth rolled over ona new axis, and dawn come from the South Pole!

  As soon as daylight was sufficiently advanced to render the rockfissures clearly visible, Maseden roused his tiny flock from the stuporof sheer exhaustion. He was a man born to lead, and the necessity tospur on and exhort others proved his own salvation. He was stiff andsore, and his head still ached abominably, but he rose to his feet withan energetic shout that quickened the blood in his hearers' veins.

  "Now, folk," he said, "the first order of the day is breakfast, and thenstrike camp!"

  Breakfast! They thought he was crazy. But he took the bottle of brandyfrom a crevice in which he had lodged it securely overnight, andSturgess uttered a cackling laugh.

  "I'm doing pretty well for a life-long teetotaller," he wheezed. "When afellow like me falls off the water-wagon, he generally drops with a dullthud, but _I_ must have set up a record. After lunching and diningyesterday on claret, I supped on brandy last night and am about tobreakfast on the same.... Girls, help yourself and pass the decanter!"

  Maseden held up the bottle to the light. It had never contained morethan a pint, and nearly half had gone. A small coin served as a measureto divide the contents into five portions.

  "Each of us drinks a _peseta_-worth," he said. "There must be neitherhalf measures nor extra ones. The last _peseta_-worth remains in thebottle. Is that agreed?"

  "I want very little, please," said Nina Forbes. "Just enough to moistenmy lips and tongue--"

  "You're going to do as you're bid," was the gruff answer. "I advise youto sip your portion, by all means, but you _must_ take it. As a penaltyfor disobedience, you'll start."

  She made no further protest, but swallowed her dose meekly. Sister Madgefollowed. Sturgess was minded to argue, but met Maseden's dour glance,and took his share. The first mouthful of the spirit acted on him likean elixir of life. He drank down to the allotted mark, and handed thebottle to Maseden.

  "Now, girls," he chortled, "this is the guy who really needs watching.If he doesn't play fair let's heave him into the sea."

  So three pairs of eyes saw to it that their rescuer had his fullallowance. Then the bottle was put away, and the castaways took stockof their surroundings.

  At first sight the position was grotesquely disheartening. Beneath, tothe left, was the sea. Behind them rose an overhanging wall of rock,which swung round to the right and cut off the ledge. The cleft itselfwas some twelve feet wide, and the opposite wall rose fully ten feet. Ina word, no chamois or mountain goat could have made the transit.

  They all surveyed the situation from every point of view afforded by thefifteen feet of ledge. There was no reason to express opinions. Escape,in any direction, looked frankly impossible.

  Then Maseden examined the cleft beneath.

  "We cannot go up," he said quietly. "In that case, as we certainly don'tmean to stay here, I'm going down."

  It was feasible, with care, to climb down to sea level, but the hugerollers breaking over the reef sent a heavy backwash against the cliff.The swirl of water rose and fell three feet at a time, with enough forceto throw the strongest man off his balance.

  "Do you mean that you intend jumping into the sea, Mr. Maseden?" saidMadge Forbes.

  She was quite calm now. She put that vital question as coolly as thoughit implied nothing more than a swimmer's pastime. Their eyes clashed,and, for the first time, the man saw that Madge possessed no small shareof Nina's self-control. Her earlier collapse was of the body, not of thesoul.

  "It doesn't mean that I shall willingly commit suicide," he answered."If it comes to that, I suggest that we all go together. I'm merelytaking a prospecting trip. There's no way out above. I must see whatoffers below."

  Without another word he sat on the lip of the rock on which they stood,and lowered himself to a tiny ledge which gave foothold. They watchedhim making his way down. It was no easy climb, but he did not hurry.Twice he advanced, and climbed a little higher to a point whence descentwas more practicable. At last he vanished.

  Sturgess, craning his neck over the seaward side of their narrow perch,could not see him, while the growl of the reef shut out all minorsounds.

  Maseden was not long absent, but the three people whom he had leftconfessed afterwards that
of all the nerve-racking experiences they hadundergone since the ship struck, that silent waiting was the worst.

  At last he reappeared. Nina, farthest up the cleft, was the first to seehim, and she cried shrilly:

  "Oh, thank God! He's got a rope!"

  A rope! Of what avail was a rope? Yet three hearts thrilled with greatexpectation. Why should Maseden bring a rope? It meant something, someplan, some definite means towards the one great object. They had anabounding faith in him.

  The rope was slung around his shoulders in a noose, and he seemed to betugging at some heavy weight which yielded but slowly to the strain.When he was still below the level of the ledge he undid the noose andpassed it to Sturgess.

  "Hold tight!" he shouted. "I've picked up the broken foremast. I'm goingdown to clear it off the rocks. When I yell, haul away steadily."

  They asked no questions. Maseden simply must be right. They listenedeagerly for the signal, and put all their strength to the task when itcame.

  Soon the truck of the foremast appeared. Then the full length of thespar could be seen, with Maseden guiding it. He had tied the rope at apoint about one-third of the length from the truck. When it was poisedso that lifting alone was required he shouted to them to stop, andrejoined them, breathless, but bright-eyed.

  "There's no means of escape by the sea," he explained, "so we must trythe cliff. This is our bridge. I think it will span the gully. Anyhow,it is worth trying."

  Then they understood, and measuring glances were cast from spar toopposing crest. It would be a close thing, but, as Maseden said, it wascertainly worth trying.

  In a minute, or less, the broken mast was standing up-ended on theledge. Then, with its base jammed into a crevice, it was lowered by therope across the chasm. It just touched the top of the rock wall.

  They actually cheered, but the women's hearts missed a couple of beatswhen Maseden began to climb again. He worked his way upward withouthaste, found a toe-grip on the rock, raised himself carefully, and againdisappeared from sight.

  This time he was not so long away. He looked down on them with aconfident smile.

  "There's a chance," he said. "A ghost of a chance. Now I'm coming back!"