CHAPTER XII
THE SECOND OBLONG BOX
When Cleggett returned to the ship he found Captain Abernethy inconversation with a young man of deprecating manner whom the Captainintroduced as the Rev. Simeon Calthrop.
"I been tellin' him," said the Cap'n, pitching his voice shrilly abovethe din the workmen made, and not giving the Rev. Mr. Calthrop anopportunity to speak for himself, "I been tellin' him it may be a longtime before the Jasper B. gets to the Holy Land."
"Do you want to go to Palestine?" asked Cleggett of Mr. Calthrop, whostood with downcast eyes and fingers that worked nervously at thelapels of his rusty black coat.
"I've knowed him sence he was a boy. He's in disgrace, Simeon Calthropis," shrieked the Captain, preventing the preacher from answeringCleggett's question, and scorning to answer it directly himself. "Beenkicked out of his church fur kissin' a married woman, and can't getanother one." (The Cap'n meant another church.)
The preacher merely raised his eyes, which were large and brown andslightly protuberant, and murmured with a kind of brave humility:
"It is true."
"But why do you want to go to Palestine?" said Cleggett.
"She sung in the choir and she had three children," screamed Cap'nAbernethy, "and she limped some. Folks say she had a cork foot. Hey,Simeon, DID she have a cork foot?"
Mr. Calthrop flushed painfully, but he forced himself courageously toanswer. "Mr. Abernethy, I do not know," he said humbly, and with thelook of a stricken animal in his big brown eyes.
He was a handsome young fellow of about thirty--or he would have beenhandsome, Cleggett thought, had he not been so emaciated. His hair wasdark and brown and inclined to curl, his forehead was high and whiteand broad, and his fingers were long and white and slender; his nosewas well modeled, but his lips were a trifle too full. Although hebelonged to one of the evangelical denominations, the Rev. Mr. Calthropaffected clothing very like the regulation costume of the Episcopalianclergy; but this clothing was now worn and torn and dusty. Buttonswere gone here and there; the knees of the unpressed trousers werebaggy and beginning to be ragged, and the sole of one shoe flapped ashe walked. He had a three days' growth of beard and no baggage.
When Cap'n Abernethy had delivered himself and walked away, the Rev.Mr. Calthrop confirmed the story of his own disgrace, speaking in a lowbut clear voice, and with a gentle and wistful smile.
"I am one of the most miserable of sinners, Mr. Cleggett," he said. "Ihave proved myself to be that most despicable thing, an unworthyminister. I was tempted and I fell."
The Rev. Mr. Calthrop seemed to find the sort of satisfaction inconfessing his sins to the world that the medieval flagellants found inscoring themselves with whips; they struck their bodies; he drew forthhis soul and beat it publicly.
Cleggett learned that he had set himself as a punishment and amortification the task of obtaining his daily bread by the work of hishands. It was his intention to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem,refusing all assistance except that which he earned by manual labor.After such a term of years as should satisfy all men (and particularlyhis own spiritual sense) of the genuineness of his penitence, he wouldapply to his church for reinstatement, and ask for an appointment tosome difficult mission in a wild and savage country. The Rev. Mr.Calthrop intimated that if he chose to accept rehabilitation on lessarduous terms, he might obtain it; but the poignancy of his own senseof failure drove him to extremes.
"Are you sure," said Cleggett sternly, "that you are not making aluxury of this very penitence itself? Are you sure that it would notbe more acceptable to Heaven if you forgave yourself more easily?"
"Alas, yes, I am sure!" said Mr. Calthrop, with a sigh and his calm andwistful smile. "I know myself too well! I know my own soul. I amcursed with a fatal magnetism which women find it impossible to resist.And I am continually tempted to permit it to exert itself. This is thecross that I bear through life."
"You should marry some good woman," said Cleggett.
"I do not feel that I am worthy," said Mr. Calthrop meekly. "And thinkof the pain my wife would experience in seeing me continually temptedby some woman who believed herself to be my psychic affinity!"
"You are a thought too subtle, Mr. Calthrop," said Cleggett bluntly."But I suppose you cannot help that. To each of us his destiny. I amprepared, until I see some evidence to the contrary, to believe yourrepentance to be genuine. In the meantime, we need a ship's chaplain.If your conscience permits, you may have the post--combining it,however, with the vocation of a common sailor before the mast. I aminclined to agree with you that manual labor will do you good. Sometime or another, in her progress around the world, the Jasper B. willundoubtedly touch at a coast within walking distance of Jerusalem.There we will put you ashore. Before we sail you can put in your timeholystoning the deck.
"The deck of the Jasper B.," said Cleggett, looking at it, "to allappearances, has not been holystoned for some years. You will find inthe forecastle several holystones that have never been used, and maybegin at once."
Cleggett, if his tastes had not inclined him towards a more active andadventurous life, would have made a good bishop, for he knew how tocombine justice and mercy. And yet few bishops have possessed hisrapidity of decision, when compelled, upon the spur of the moment, tobecome the physician of an ailing soul. He had determined in a flash tomake the man ship's chaplain, that Calthrop might come into closecontact with other spiritual organisms and not think too exclusively ofhis own.
The Rev. Mr. Calthrop thanked him with becoming gratitude and departedto get the new holystones.
By three o'clock that afternoon, with such celerity had the work goneforward, Mr. Watkins, the contractor, announced to Cleggett that histask was finished, except for the removal of the rubbish in the hold.Cleggett, going carefully over the vessel, and examining the new partswith a brochure on the construction and navigation of schooners in hishand, verified the statement.
"She is ready to sail," said Cleggett, standing by the new wheel with aswelling heart, and sweeping the vessel from bowsprit to rudder with agradual glance.
It was a look almost paternal in its pride; Cleggett loved the JasperB. She was an idea that no one else but Cleggett could have had.
"Sail?" said Mr. Watkins.
"Why not?" said Cleggett, puzzled at his tone.
"Oh, nothing," said Mr. Watkins. "It's none of my business. Mybusiness was to do the work I was hired to do according tospecifications. Further than that, nothing."
"But why did you think I was having the work done?"
"Can't say I thought," said Mr. Watkins. "I took the job, and I doneit. Had an idea mebby you were in the movin' picture game."
Mr. Watkins, as he talked, had been regarding Cap'n Abernethy, who inturn was looking at the mainmast. There seemed to be something in thevery way Cap'n Abernethy looked at the mainmast which jarred on Mr.Watkins. Mr. Watkins dropped his voice, indicating the Cap'n with acurved, disparaging thumb, as he asked Cleggett:
"Is HE going to sail her?"
"Why not?"
"Oh--nothing; nothing at all," said Mr. Watkins. "It's none o' MYbusiness."
Cleggett began to be a little annoyed. "Have you," he said withdignity, and fixing a rather stern glance upon Mr. Watkins, "have youany reason to doubt Cap'n Abernethy's ability as a sailing master?"
"No, indeed," said Mr. Watkins cheerfully, "not as a sailing master.He may be the best in the world, for all I know. _I_ never seen himsail anything. I never heard him play the violin, neither, for thatmatter, and he may be a regular jim-dandy on the violin for all I know."
"You are facetious," said Cleggett stiffly.
"Meaning I ain't paid to be fresh, eh?" said Mr. Watkins. "And rightyou are, too. And there's all that junk down in the hold to pass outand cart away."
Cleggett personally supervised this removal, standing on the deck bythe hatchway and scanning everything that was handed up. The characterof this junk has already been
described. Every barrel or cask that wasplaced upon the deck was stove in with an ax before Cleggett's eyes; hesatisfied himself that every bottle was empty; he turned over thebroken boxes and beer cases with his foot to see that they containednothing.
But the work was three-quarters done before he found what he waslooking for. From under a heap of debris, which had completely hiddenit, towards the forward part of the vessel, the workmen unearthed anunpainted oblong box, almost seven feet in length. It was ofsubstantial material and looked newer than any of the other stuff.Cleggett had it placed on one side of the hatchway and sat down on it.It was tightly nailed up; all of its surfaces were sound. Cleggett didnot doubt that he would find in it what he wanted, yet in order to beon the safe side he continued to scrutinize everything else that cameout of the hold.
But finally the hold was as empty as a drum, and Watkins and his mendeparted. The oblong box upon which Cleggett sat was the only possiblereceptacle of any sort in an undamaged condition, which had been in thehold. He determined to have it opened in the cabin.
As he arose from it he was struck by its resemblance to the box inElmer's charge, the dank box of Reginald Maltravers, which stood on oneend near the cabin companionway, leaning against the port side of thecabin so that it was not visible from the road, which ran to thestarboard of the Jasper B. But, since all oblong boxes are bound tohave a general resemblance, Cleggett, at the time, thought littleenough of this likeness.
He called to George and Mr. Calthrop, who, with Dr. Farnsworth, wereforward receiving their first lecture on seamanship from Cap'nAbernethy and Kuroki, to carry the box into the cabin.
But as George and the Rev. Mr. Calthrop lifted the box to theirshoulders, Cleggett was startled by a loud and violent oath; averitable bellow of blasphemy that made him shudder. Turning, he sawthan an automobile had paused in the road. In the forward part of themachine stood Loge, raving in an almost demoniac fury and pointing atthe box. He writhed in the grip of three men who endeavored to restrainhim. One of them was the sinister Pierre.
Hoisting himself, as it were, on a mounting billow of his ownprofanity, Loge cast himself with a wide swimming motion of his armsfrom the auto. But one of the men clung to him; they came to theground together like tackler and tackled in a football game. Theothers cast themselves out of the machine and flung themselves upontheir leader; he fought like a lion, but he was finally overpowered andthrown back into the auto, which was immediately started up and whichmade off towards Fairport at a rattling speed. Three hundred yardsaway, however, Loge rose again and shook a furious fist at the JasperB., and though Cleggett could not distinguish the words, the sense ofLoge's impotent rage rolled towards him on the wind in a roaring,vibrant bass.
The sight of the box that he had not been able to buy, in Cleggett'spossession, had stirred him beyond all caution; he had actuallycontemplated an attempt to rush the Jasper B. in broad daylight.
But while this queer tableau of baffled rage was enacting itself on thestarboard bow of the Jasper B., a no less strange and far lessexplicable thing was occurring on the port side. The swish of oars andthe ripple of a moving boat drew Cleggett's attention in that directionas Loge's booming threats grew fainter. He saw that two oarsmen, nearthe eastern and farther side of the canal, had allowed the dainty,varnished little craft they were supposed to propel to come to a restin spite of the evident displeasure of a man who sat in its stern.This third man was the same that Cleggett had seen on the deck of theAnnabel Lee with a spy glass, and again that same morning driving thetwo almost nude figures up and down the canal.
The two oarsmen, Cleggett saw with surprise, rowed with shackled feet;their feet were, indeed, chained to the boat itself. About the wristsof each were steel bands; fixed to these bands were chains, the otherends of which were locked to their oars. They were, in effect, galleyslaves.
All this iron somewhat hampered their movements. But the reason oftheir pause was an engrossing interest in the box of ReginaldMaltravers, which stood, as has already been said, on the port side ofthe cabin, on one end, and so was visible from their boat. They werelooking at it with slack oars, dropped jaws and starting eyes; thething seemed to have fascinated them and bereft them of motion; it wasas if they were unable to get past it at all. Elmer, worn out by hismany long vigils, lay asleep on the deck at the foot of the box, withan arm flung over his face.
The stout man, after vainly endeavoring to start his oarsmen withwords, took up an extra oar and began vigorously prodding them with it.Cleggett had not seen this man look towards the Jasper B., but henevertheless had the feeling that the man had missed little of what hadbeen going on there. He seemed to be that kind of man.
His crew responding to the stabs of the oar, the little vessel wentperhaps fifty yards farther up the canal towards Parker's, and thenswung daintily around and came back towards the Jasper B. at almost thespeed of a racing shell, the men in chains bending doggedly to theirwork. Cleggett saw that the boat must pass close to the Jasper B., andleaned over the port rail.
The man in the stern had picked up a magazine and was lolling backreading it. As the boat passed under him Cleggett saw on the coverpage of the magazine a picture of the very man who was perusing it. Itwas a singularly urbane face; both the counterfeit presentment on thecover page and the real face were smiling and calm and benign.Cleggett could read the legend on the magazine cover accompanying thepicture. It ran:
Wilton Barnstable Tells In this Issue the Inside Story of How he Broke up the Gigantic Smuggling Conspiracy.
At that instant the man dropped the magazine and looked Cleggett fullin the face. He waved his arm in a meaning gesture in the direction inwhich Loge had disappeared and said, with a gentle shake of his head atCleggett, as if he were chiding a naughty child:
"When thieves fall out--! When thieves fall out, my dear sir!"
As he swept by he resumed his magazine with the pleased air of a manwho has delivered himself of a brilliant epigram; it showed in his veryshoulders.
"And that," murmured Cleggett, "is Wilton Barnstable, the greatdetective!"