CHAPTER XX
THE SAMARITAN SKIPPER
I clung to that heaven-sent bit of wreckage, exhausted and weary, untilthe light began to break in the east. I was numbed and shivering withcold--but I was alive and safe. That square yard of good and solid woodwas as much to me as if it had been a floating island. And as the lightgrew and grew, and the sun at last came up, a ball of fire out of the farhorizon, I looked across the sea on all sides, hoping to catch sight of asail, or of a wisp of smoke--of anything that would tell me of the nearpresence of human beings. And one fact I realized at once--I was furtheraway from land than when I had begun my battle with death. There was nosign of land in the west. The sky was now clear and bright on all sides,but there was nothing to break the line where it met the sea. Before thefading of the light on the previous evening, I had easily made out thewell-known outlines of the Cheviots on one hand and of Says Law on theother--now there was not a vestige of either. I knew from that fact thatI had somehow drifted further and further away from the coast. There wasaccordingly nothing to do but wait the chance of being sighted and pickedup, and I set to work, as well as I could on my tiny raft, to chafe mylimbs and get some warmth into my body. And never in my life did I blessthe sun as I did that morning, for when he sprang out of bed in thenortheast skies, it was with his full and hearty vigour of highspringtide, and his heat warmed my chilled blood and sent a new glow ofhope to my heart. But that heat was not an unmixed blessing--and I wasalready parched with thirst; and as the sun mounted higher and higher,pouring his rays full upon me, the thirst became almost intolerable, andmy tongue felt as if my mouth could no longer contain it.
It was, perhaps, one hour after sunrise, when my agony was becomingalmost insupportable, that I first noticed a wisp of smoke on thesouthern rim of the circle of sea which just then was all my world. Inever strained my eyes for anything as I did for that patch of greyagainst the cloudless blue! It grew bigger and bigger--I knew, of course,that it was some steamer, gradually approaching. But it seemed agesbefore I could make out her funnels; ages before I saw the first bit ofher black bulk show up above the level of the dancing waves. Yet thereshe was at last--coming bows on, straight in my direction. My nerves musthave given out at the sight--I remember the tears rolling down my cheeks;I remember hearing myself make strange sounds, which I suppose were thoseof relief and thankfulness. And then the horror of being unseen, of beingleft to endure more tortures of thirst, of the steamer changing hercourse, fell on me, and long before she was anywhere near me I wastrying to balance myself on the grating, so that I could stand erect andattract her attention.
She was a very slow-going craft that--not able to do more than nine orten knots at best--and another hour passed before she was anywhere nearme. But, thank God! she came within a mile of me, and I made shift tostand up on my raft and to wave to her. And thereon she altered hercourse and lumbered over in my direction. She was one of the ugliestvessels that ever left a shipyard, but I thought I had never seenanything so beautiful in my life as she looked in those moments, and Ihad certainly never been so thankful for anything as for her solid anddirty deck when willing and kindly hands helped me up on it.
Half an hour after that, with dry clothes on me, and hot coffee and ruminside me, I was closeted with the skipper in his cabin, telling him,under a strict pledge of secrecy, as much of my tale as I felt inclinedto share with him. He was a sympathetic and an understanding man, and heswore warmly and plentifully when he heard how treacherously I had beentreated, intimating it as the--just then--dearest wish of his heart tohave the handling of the man who had played me the trick.
"But you'll be dealing with him yourself!" said he. "Man!--you'll notspare him--promise me you'll not spare him! And you'll send me anewspaper with the full account of all that's done to him when you've setthe law to work--dod! I hope they'll quarter him! Them was grand dayswhen there was more licence and liberty in punishing malefactors--oh! I'dlike fine to see this man put into boiling oil, or something of thatsort, the cold-hearted, murdering villain! You'll be sure to send me thenewspaper?"
I laughed--for the first time since--when? It seemed years since I hadlaughed--and yet it was only a few hours, after all.
"Before I can set the law to work on him, I must get on dry land,captain," I answered. "Where are you going?"
"Dundee," he replied. "Dundee--and we're just between sixty and seventymiles away now, and it's near seven o'clock. We'll be in Dundee early inthe afternoon, anyway. And what'll you do there? You'll be for gettingthe next train to Berwick?"
"I'm not so sure, captain," I answered. "I don't want that man to knowI'm alive--yet. It'll be a nice surprise for him--later. But there arethose that I must let know as soon as possible--so the first thing I'lldo, I'll wire. And in the meantime, let me have a sleep."
The steamer that had picked me up was nothing but a tramp, plodding alongwith a general cargo from London to Dundee, and its accommodation was asrough as its skipper was homely. But it was a veritable palace of delightand luxury to me after that terrible night, and I was soon hard and fastasleep in the skipper's own bunk--and was still asleep when he laid ahand on me at three o'clock that afternoon.
"We're in the Tay," he said, "and we'll dock in half an hour. Andnow--you can't go ashore in your underclothing, man! And where'syour purse?"
He had rightly sized up the situation. I had got rid of everything butmy singlet and drawers in the attempt to keep going; as for my purse,that was where the rest of my possessions were--sunk or floating.
"You and me's about of a build," he remarked. "I'll fit you up with agood suit that I have, and lend you what money you want. But what is ityou're going to do?"
"How long are you going to stop here in Dundee, captain?" I asked.
"Four days," he answered. "I'll be discharging tomorrow, and loading thenext two days, and then I'll be away again."
"Lend me the clothes and a sovereign," said I. "I'll wire to myprincipal, the gentleman I told you about, to come here at once withclothes and money, so I'll repay you and hand your suit back first thingtomorrow morning, when I'll bring him to see you."
He immediately pulled a sovereign out of his pocket, and, turning to alocker, produced a new suit of blue serge and some necessary linen.
"Aye?" he remarked, a bit wonderingly. "You'll be for fetching him alonghere, then? And for what purpose?"
"I want him to take your evidence about picking me up," I answered."That's one thing--and--there's other reasons that we'll tell you aboutafterwards. And--don't tell anybody here of what's happened, and pass theword for silence to your crew. It'll be something in their pockets whenmy friend comes along."
He was a cute man, and he understood that my object was to keep the newsof my escape from Sir Gilbert Carstairs, and he promised to do what Iasked. And before long--he and I being, as he had observed, very much ofa size, and the serge suit fitting me very well--I was in the streets ofDundee, where I had never been before, seeking out a telegraph office,and twiddling the skipper's sovereign between thumb and finger while Iworked out a problem that needed some little thought.
I must let my mother and Maisie know of my safety--at once. I must letMr. Lindsey know, too. I knew what must have happened there at Berwick.That monstrous villain would sneak home and say that a sad accident hadhappened me. It made me grind my teeth and long to get my hands at hislying tongue when I thought of what Maisie and my mother must havesuffered after hearing his tales and excuses. But I did not want him toknow I was safe--I did not want the town to know. Should I telephone toMr. Lindsey's office, it was almost certain one of my fellow-clerks therewould answer the ring, and recognize my voice. Then everything would benoised around. And after thinking it all over I sent Mr. Lindsey atelegram in the following words, hoping that he would fully understand:--
"Keep this secret from everybody. Bring suit of clothes, linen, money,mother, and Maisie by next train to Dundee. Give post-office peopleorders not to let this out, most important. H.M."
/> I read that over half a dozen times before I finally dispatched it. Itseemed all wrong, somehow--and all right in another way. And, howeverbadly put it was, it expressed my meaning. So I handed it in, and myborrowed sovereign with it, and jingling the change which was given backto me, I went out of the telegraph office to stare around me.
It was a queer thing, but I was now as light-hearted as could be--Icaught myself laughing from a curious feeling of pleasure. The truthwas--if you want to analyse the sources--I was vastly relieved to be ableto get in touch with my own people. Within an hour, perhaps sooner, theywould have the news, and I knew well that they would lose no time insetting off to me. And finding myself just then in the neighbourhood ofthe North British Railway Station, I went in and managed to make out thatif Mr. Lindsey was at the office when my wire arrived, and acted promptlyin accordance with it, he and they could reach Dundee by a late trainthat evening. That knowledge, of course, made me in a still morelight-hearted mood. But there was another source of my satisfaction andcomplaisance: things were in a grand way now for my revenge on SirGilbert Carstairs, and what had been a mystery was one no longer.
I went back to the dock where I had left the tramp-steamer, and told itsgood-natured skipper what I had done, for he was as much interested inthe affair as if he had been my own brother. And that accomplished, Ileft him again and went sight-seeing, having been wonderfully freshenedup and restored by my good sleep of the morning. I wandered up and downand about Dundee till I was leg-weary, and it was nearly six o'clock ofthe afternoon. And at that time, being in Bank Street, and looking aboutme for some place where I could get a cup of tea and a bite of food, Ichanced by sheer accident to see a name on a brass plate, fixed amongstmore of the same sort, on the outer door of a suite of offices. That namewas Gavin Smeaton. I recalled it at once--and, moved by a sudden impulse,I went climbing up a lot of steps to Mr. Gavin Smeaton's office.