The Captain of the Kansas

  CHAPTER XVI

  CHRISTOBAL'S TEMPTATION

  "By the way, what of Monsieur de Poincilit?" said Courtenay. "I sawhim come aboard with Malcolm, but he dived into the saloon, and has notreappeared. Is he ill?"

  Gray's mouth set like a steel trap; his eyes had a glint in them. Heseemed to be unwilling to speak; when words came, they were cold andmeasured.

  "I haven't any use for that fellow," he said. "I suppose theunpleasant story must be told sooner or later, so here goes. In thefirst place, Poincilit forgot that I understood Spanish, and I heardhim yelping to the Chileans in the jolly-boat that if we took any morepeople on board we should be swamped. It was he who put the notion intheir heads to cast off while you were lowering Miss Baring's maid intomy arms. I tried to forget that, as he was blue-white with fear, andsome fellows are not responsible for their actions when their livermelts. But I can never forget his action on the island. Yesterdaymorning I was just in time to stop him and four others from sneakingoff in the life-boat with all our provisions."

  Courtenay's face hardened too.

  "Necessity may have no laws," said he; "but I fancy I should have founda code to meet his case."

  "I have organized a Vigilance Committee in my time, and its articleskind of fitted in," was the American's quiet reply. "That is why Ihave a few recent knife-cuts distributed about my skin; I began toshoot and we were two short on the muster roll next day. De Poincilitran, and fell on his knees. So did a skunk of an Italian, and I didnot want to waste cartridges. They were tied back to back until wesailed to-day."

  "And the fifth?"

  "The fifth was a woman."

  "Huh!" Boyle reached out for a bottle of wine and refilled his glass.For a little while there was silence. Then Courtenay muttered:

  "Poor devil of a Count! 'She gave me of the tree and I did eat.' Didhe blame the woman?"

  "Well, yes. But it was a mean business, any how."

  "Better sponge it off the slate, eh?"

  "I agree heartily. Drink up, Boyle, and pass the buck. I have a fiveyears' thirst."

  They talked until day-break; then Courtenay turned in. He did notappear on deck again until noon. By that time the _Kansas_ had lostall marks of the fight excepting the smashed windows, and a sailor whounderstood the glazier's art was replacing the broken glass. Makingthe round of the ship, the captain found Elsie sitting with Isobel andMrs. Somerville on the promenade deck. She was binding Joey's foot,and he knew then why the dog had scampered off on three legs as soon asthe cabin door was opened.

  The girl colored very prettily the moment she set eyes on her lover.Memories of the previous night became exceedingly vivid. She wasadorably shy, Courtenay thought. As he approached, he debated themanner of his greeting; being a sailor, he did not hesitate.

  Lifting his cap with a smile and a general "Good morning," he bent overElsie.

  "Well," he said, "surely you owe me at least one kiss?"

  If her cheeks were red before they became scarlet now. But hiskindling glance had warned her that he would adopt no pretence, so shelifted her face to his, though she did not dare to look at her amazedcompanions. Courtenay explained matters quite coolly.

  "If Elsie has not told you already, it is my privilege to announce thatshe and I have signed articles," he said with a smile. "That is, weintend to get married as soon as the ship reaches England."

  "Indeed, I congratulate you both most heartily," said the missionary'swife.

  "Events have marched, then, while we were stranded on that wretchedisland?" tittered Isobel. Her voice was rather shrill. She, too, wasexcited, not quite mistress of herself. She did not know how farGray's statements might have prejudiced her with the captain; she hadalready sent de Poincilit a note urging him to deny absolutely allknowledge of the plot to steal the boat, and attribute the American'ssummary action to his mistaken rendering of the Spanish patois used bythe Chilean sailors.

  "Yes," laughed Courtenay, ready to put her at ease. "One crowds theevents of a month into a day under some conditions. Last night, forinstance, I had five minutes' amusement with a steampipe and adouble-barrelled gun which will serve all my requirements in the way ofphysical exercise for a long time to come."

  "You feel sure that we shall see no more of the Indians?" asked Isobel,quickly.

  "I think so. One never can tell, but if they have the grit to attackus again I shall regard them as first-class fighters."

  "Dr. Christobal says they have an astonishing power of bearing painwithout flinching," said Elsie, plunging into the talk with a hoteagerness. "The Alaculofs in the fore cabin were afraid of him,thinking he meant to kill them, but, when they found that he wishedonly to dress their wounds, they followed his actions with a curiousinterest, as though he were tending some other person's hurts and nottheir own. And that reminds me. He told me you ought to have that cuton your forehead washed. Let me look at it."

  She stood up, and placed the dog on a chair. Lifting Courtenay's capshe brushed back his hair with her fingers, and found that he hadcovered an ugly scar with a long strip of skin plaster. The tenseanxiety in Isobel's face forthwith yielded to sheer bewilderment.These two were behaving with the self-possession of young people whoregard the "engagement" stage as a venerable institution.

  Of course Courtenay liked to be fondled in this manner. Elsie was ather best as a ministering angel. But he protested against the need ofthe doctor's precaution.

  "No, no," he cried, "you already have one faithful patient in Joey. Iwonder he did not wake me earlier so that he might rush off to you. Inever have known him play the old soldier before. To see him curled upthere, gazing at you with those pathetic eyes, who would think that histeeth met in Alaculof sinews last night? Twice, to my knowledge, hesaved my life. And the way he dodged blows aimed at him was somethingmarvelous. He used all four paws then, I assure you."

  "Ah, yes," agreed Elsie, blushing again as she recalled the scene inthe saloon. "He could have told me the Indians were aboard long beforeI knew it myself. Dr. Christobal deceived me so admirably that I amnot sure yet if I have forgiven him."

  "He is a first-rate chap in an emergency," said Courtenay, "though Ihave a bone to pick with him, too. He promised to call me at eighto'clock, but I expect he and Boyle, or Tollemache, conspired to let mesleep on. I was astounded when I saw the time. What do you think of askipper who lies abed all the morning, Miss Baring?"

  "Gray has told him nothing," she decided at once. "That is very niceof Gray. I must thank him." But she replied instantly, in her piquantway:

  "Elsie certainly kept us in the dark about her _fiancailles_, CaptainCourtenay; but has not been silent as to your other achievements. Ifyou were not telling us that you have actually slept, I should havecherished the belief that you had not closed an eyelid since the shipstruck."

  Isobel meant to be on her best behavior. Her pact with the Frenchmanwas discreditable but smooth words might restrain tongues from wagginguntil she could leave the ship. Moreover, the vicissitudes of life inthese later days were not without their effect. She had known what itwas to suffer. She had seen men dying like cattle in the shambles.The shadow of eternity had fallen so closely that twice during thepreceding night she was rudely awaked by the shrieking fear of a toovivid dream. These things were not the butterfly flutterings of sunlitValparaiso. They were of a more ardent order, and her wings had notyet recovered from the singeing.

  Courtenay, willing to maintain a fiction which evidently gave herrelief, answered lightly that he yet had to earn these compliments, buthe hoped to be able soon to fix a date when everybody might bombard himwith the nicest phrases they could think of, and end the embarrassingordeal once for all.

  "I went through something of the sort last year on board the_Florida_," he added. "People insist on regarding it as marvelous thata man should strive to do his simple duty."

  Suddenly it occurred to him that the topic was unpleasantly analogousto the little French c
ount's cowardly escapades. If one talks of duty,and recognizes its prior claim, what of the man who, in his selfishfrenzy, is prepared to leave others to their fate, whether on a wreckedship or a barren island? So he turned to Elsie again.

  "By the way, you have never seen those letters," he said. "I washunting for them when the alarm was raised last night. Shall I bringthem now?"

  Elsie gave him a glance of subtle meaning. Her eyes telegraphed "Whatmatters it whether I see them to-day or in half a century? Do I nottrust you?" But she only murmured:

  "Not now, I am telling Mrs. Somerville and Isobel all the news."

  He squeezed her shoulder. Any excuse would serve for those slightpettings which mean so much during early days in wonderland.

  "Then I shall resume my rounds. I expect to be received reproachfullyby Walker. He made great progress yesterday. Let me whisper a secret.Then you may pass it on, in strictest confidence."

  He placed his lips close to her ear.

  "I am dreadfully in love with you this morning," he breathed.

  "That is no secret," she retorted.

  "It is. You and I together must daily find new paths in Eden. But myless poetic tidings should be welcome, also. Walker says he hopes toget steam up to-morrow."

  "Well, tell us quickly," cried Isobel, with a show of intense interest,when Courtenay had gone. She had decided on a line of conduct, andmeant to follow it carefully. The more sympathy she extended towardsher friend's love idyll, the less likelihood was there of disagreeabledevelopments in other respects. That trick of calculating gush wasIsobel's chief failing. She was so wrapped up in self that her owninterests governed every thought. Courtenay's reference to letterssent a wave of alarm pulsing through each nerve. Though his mannerbetokened that the affair was something which concerned Elsie alone,she was on fire until she learnt that his "secret" alluded to therestored vitality of the ship.

  For once, her expressions of gratitude were heartfelt. Mrs. Somervilleeven wept for joy. This poor woman after living twenty-five years inthe oasis of a mission-house, was a strange subject for storm-tossedwandering and fights with cannibals. Seldom has fate conspired withthe fickle sea to sport with such helpless human flotsam, save,perhaps, in that crowning caprice of the waves which once cast ashore alive baby in a cradle.

  But the baby's emotions were crude, and probably in no wise connectedwith the tremors of ship-wreck, whereas Mrs. Somerville, during thesefull days, was constantly asking herself how it could be possible thatshe was living at all.

  "It will be a real manifestation of Providence if we ever reach Englandagain," she cried, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "I'm sureJohn and I have said so many a time during the past week. To think ofthe ship's blowing up in the way she did, it makes me all of a tremble,it does."

  "Oh," broke in Elsie, thinking that the information she possessed wouldhelp to calm the older woman, "we have made a good many discoveriessince--since the boat went away without me, I mean. But do tell me,how did those horrid Chileans manage to cast off the tackle before Mr.Gray or some of the other men were able to stop them? Of course, it ismatterless now, in a sense, but at that moment it looked like leavingthose on the ship to certain death."

  Mrs. Somerville was stricken dumb. The American's shooting of two menon White Horse Island had naturally called for a complete explanationon his part, and she did not know how to answer Elsie's question.Before she could gather her wits, Isobel intervened.

  "If you had been in that boat, dear," she said sweetly, "you wouldrealize the topsy-turvy condition of our brains. Even Mr. Grayhimself, the coolest man on board, imagined we might sink any moment.So what can you expect of those excitable Chileans? Besides, the thingwas done so quickly that we were swept away by the tide before any onefully understood what was happening. Anyhow, you had the best of it,as events transpired. What are the discoveries you spoke of?"

  "Well, some one placed dynamite among the coal."

  "But who would do such a thing?"

  "That is hard to say. The captain believes that the culprit will befound out through the insurance policies. He and the others werediscussing the affair one day in the chart-house--soon after thedynamite cartridges were discovered--and you cannot tell how surprisedI was to hear him mention Ventana's name in connection with it."

  "Ventana's name!"

  The blood ebbed away from Isobel's cheeks, leaving her pallid as astatue. There was a gasp in her voice which startled her own ears.Lest her agitation should be noted too keenly, she bent forward andpropped her face on her clenched hands, staring fixedly at the distantcliffs in a supreme effort to appear apathetic. Elsie heard that drysob, but her friend's seeming indifference misled her.

  "Yes," she said, wondering a little whether or not Christobal's veiledhint regarding a by-gone tenderness between the two might account forIsobel's hysterical outburst on the night of the ship's break-down.Indeed, so warm-hearted was she that she hesitated a moment beforecontinuing; but she felt that it would be altogether better for Isobelto be prepared for the revelations which the successful end of theship's voyage would assuredly bring forth. So, pondering unspokenthoughts the while, she told the others exactly what Tollemache,Christobal and Courtenay had said, and even revealed to them that whichCourtenay himself did not yet know.

  "You remember the poor fellow who got into trouble soon after we sailedfrom Valparaiso?" she said. "His name is Frascuelo. He was woundedagain in last night's fight, but not seriously, and he and I are quitechums. He assures me that he was drugged by a man named Jose Anacleto,who took his place among the coal-trimmers--"

  "Oh, Miss Maxwell, come quick!" screamed Mrs. Somerville, for Isobelhad lurched sideways out of her chair in a fainting fit, and themissionary's wife was barely able to save her head from striking theship's rails.

  Joey was shot out of Elsie's lap with such surprising speed that hetrotted away without any exhibition of lameness. He was quitedisgusted, for at least five minutes, but it is reasonable to supposethat a dog of his intelligence would brighten up when he heard thewholly unlooked-for story which Christobal was translating toCourtenay, word for word, as it was dragged hesitatingly out of Suarez.

  The Argentine miner had been badly injured during the struggle forpossession of the promenade deck. Owing to loss of consciousness,supplemented by an awkward fall, he might have choked to death had henot been rescued within a few minutes. He was very ill all night, andit was not until midday that he recovered sufficient strength to enablehim to question the Indians on board.

  Courtenay wished specially to find out what chance, if any, there wasof the Alaculof attack being renewed. When Christobal assured him thatSuarez might safely leave his bunk, he asked the doctor to bring theSpaniard to the fore-cabin, in which the wounded savages lay under anarmed guard.

  It was obvious that some of the maimed wretches recognized Suarez,notwithstanding his changed appearance, the instant he spoke to them.At once they broke out into an excited chattering, and Suarez was sodisconcerted by the tidings they conveyed that he stammered a gooddeal, and seemed to flounder in giving the Spanish rendering.

  "This fellow is telling us just as much as he thinks it is good for usto know," said Courtenay, sternly, when the interpreter avoided hisaccusing gaze. "Bid him out with the whole truth, Christobal, or itshall be his pleasing task to escort his dear friends back to theirfamily circles."

  Being detected, Suarez faltered no longer. A ship's life-boat had beendriven ashore lower down the coast. Fourteen men had landed; they werecaptured by the Indians, after a useless resistance, in which threewere killed. The dead men supplied a ghoulish feast next day, and theothers were bound securely, and placed in a cave, in order to be killedat intervals, an exact parallel to the fate of Suarez's own companionsfive years earlier.

  But, on this occasion, a woman intervened. Suarez confessed, veryreluctantly, that there was a girl in the tribe to whom he had taughtsome words of his own language. He said that she co
oked for him, andcaught fish or gathered shell-fish for their joint needs when thelarder was otherwise empty. He declared that the relations betweenthem were those of master and servant, but the poor creature had fallenin love with him, and had become nearly frantic with grief when hedisappeared. It was difficult to analyze her motives, but she hadundoubtedly freed the eleven sailors, and led them over the rocks atlow water to the haunted cave on Guanaco Hill. The Indians dared notfollow; but they took good care that no canoes were obtainable in whichthe unhappy fugitives could reach the ship, and they were confidentthat hunger would soon drive them forth.

  Courtenay's brow became black with anger when he understood thesignificance of this staggering story.

  "It comes to this," he said to Christobal. "The men who got away fromthe _Kansas_ in No. 3 life-boat fell into the hands of the savagesearly on the day of the ship's arrival here. Suarez slipped his cablethat night, being aware at the time that eleven white captives werestill alive. Yet he said no word, not even when he heard that we hadseen one of the boat's water-casks in a canoe. He, a Christian, boltedand remained silent, while some poor creature of a woman risked herlife, and ran counter to all her natural instincts, in the endeavor tosave the men of his own race. What sort of mean hound can he be?"

  Suarez needed no translation to grasp the purport of Courtenay's words.He besought the senor captain to have patience with him. He hadescaped from a living tomb, and felt that he would yield up his liferather than return. Therefore, when he saw how few in number and badlyarmed were they on board the ship, he thought it best to remain silentas to the fate of the boat's crew. In the first place, he fullyexpected that they had been killed by the Indians, who would be enragedby his own disappearance. Secondly, he alone knew how hopeless anyattempt at a rescue must prove. Finally, he wished to spare thefeelings of those who had befriended him; of what avail were uselessmind-torturings regarding the hapless beings in the hands of thesavages?

  There was a certain plausibleness in this reasoning which curbedCourtenay's wrath, though it in no way diminished the disgust whichfilled his soul. What quality was there lacking in the Latin raceswhich rendered them so untrustworthy? His crew had mutinied, dePoincilit was ready to consign his companions in misfortune to a mostfrightful death on the barren island, and here was Suarez hugging tohis breast a ghastly secret which chance alone had brought to light.He strove hard to repress the contempt which rose in his gorge, as itwas essential that the broken-spirited miner should not be frightenedout of his new-born candor.

  "Ask him to ascertain if the Indians believe the white men are stillliving?" he said. A fresh series of grunts and clicks elicited thefact that the smoke-column seen the previous day on Guanaco Hill hadnot been created by the tribe. Suarez begged the senor captain toremember that he had spoken truly when he declared that its meaning wasunknown to him. Probably, from what he now learnt, the girl who threwin her lot with the sailors had built a fire there.

  Courtenay turned on his heel and quitted the cabin. The smell of theIndians was loathsome, the mere sight of Suarez offensive. For thisdiscovery had overcast the happiness of his wooing as a thunder-clouddarkens and blots the smiling life out of a fair valley. There rushedin on him a hundred chilling thoughts, each gloomier than itsforerunner. Ravens croaked within him; misshapen imps whispered evilomens; his spirit sat in gloom.

  Christobal, well knowing how the demons of doubt and despair wereafflicting Courtenay, followed him to the upper deck. Boyle was in thechart-house and Tollemache. Each man noted the captain's troubledface; from him they glanced towards the doctor; but the Spaniard hadundergone his purgatory some hours earlier; his thin features were nowquite expressionless.

  Courtenay obtained a telescope. With the tact which never failed him,even in such a desperate crisis as this, he handed the doctor hisbinoculars. Then, both men looked at the summit of Guanaco Hill.Though it was high noon, and the landscape was shimmering in theheat-mist created by the unusual power and brilliance of the sun, theydistinctly saw a thin pillar of smoke rising above the trees.Courtenay closed his telescope. He made to approach Boyle, evidentlyfor the purpose of giving some order, when Christobal said quietly:

  "Wait! I have something to say to you. You ought to remain on theship. Let _me_ go!"

  "You?"

  "Yes, I. After all, it is only a matter of taking command. One mancannot go alone. He could not even pull the life-boat so far. Hence,what you can do I can do, and I have no objection to dying in that way."

  "Why should either of us die?"

  "You know better than I how little chance there is of saving those men.You may deem me callous if I suggest that the reasonable thing would beto forget the miserable statement you have just heard. Oh, please hearme to the end. I am not talking for your sole benefit, believe me.Greatly as I and all on board are beholden to you, I do not proposegiving my life in your stead because of my abounding admiration foryour many virtues. Well, then since you are so impatient as to bealmost rude, I come straight to the point. If you take command of aboat's crew and endeavor to save the men imprisoned over there, youwill almost certainly throw away your life and the lives of those whohelp you. In that event, a lady in whom we are both interested willsuffer grievously. On the other hand, if I were killed, she would weepa little, because she has a large heart, but you would console her.And the odd thing is that you and I are fully aware that either you orI must go off on this fool's errand. There is none other to take thevacant place. Now, have I made myself clear?"

  "You are a good fellow, Christobal. You revive my faith in humannature, and that is my best apology if I irritated you just now by myattitude. But don't you see that I can neither accept your generousoffer nor sail away from our harbor of refuge without making an attemptto save my men?"

  "They are not your men. They forfeited your captaincy by their ownaction. In the effort to succor them you will lose at least one lifewhich is precious to all on board this ship. I am twice your age,Courtenay, and I affirm unhesitatingly that you are wrong."

  "Yet you are ready to take my place?"

  "I have given you my reasons."

  "They do you honor; but you would fail where I might succeed. You arenot a sailor. Brave as I know you to be, you are not physically fittedfor the rough work which may be needed. I think, too, you exaggeratethe risk. The Alaculofs are broken by last night's failure. They willnot dare to face us."

  "At least spare me an argument which does not convince yourself;otherwise you would depute me instantly for the service."

  "Well, you force plain speaking. While I command the _Kansas_ I amresponsible for the well-being of the ship, her crew, and herpassengers. I could never forgive myself if I left those men to themercy of the Indians. I cannot permit either you or Tollemache to takea risk which I shirk. Boyle and Walker must remain on board--lest Ifail. Now, Christobal, don't make my duty harder. Shake hands! I amproud to claim you as a friend."

  "Huh!" said Boyle, strolling towards them. "What is it? A bet?"

  "Yes," laughed Courtenay, from whose face all doubt had vanished; "abet, indeed, and you hold the stakes. Have you seen the smoke signalyonder?" and he pointed across the bay.

  "Yes. Tollemache found it again, twenty minutes since."

  "It means that eleven of our men are there, expecting us to save them.Hoist the ship's answering pennant from the main yard swung out tostarboard. Build a small fire on the poop and throw some oil andlampblack on it. If they don't recognize the pennant they willunderstand the smoke. Get some food and water stowed in the life-boat,and offer five pounds a head to six men who will volunteer for a tripashore."

  "I go in charge, of course, sir?" said Boyle.

  "You remain here, and take command during my absence. I want tworevolvers for a couple of the crew, and I shall take my own gun.Please make all arrangements promptly. I am going to my cabin for fiveminutes, and shall start immediately afterwards."

  This was the cap
tain speaking. His tone admitted of no contention.Boyle hurried off, and Courtenay went into his quarters.

  "What do you think of it?" Christobal asked Tollemache, as the latterappeared to be sauntering after the chief officer.

  "Rot!" said Tollemache.

  "But what can we do? He is committing suicide."

  "One must do that occasionally. It's rotten, but it can't be helped."

  Christobal threw out his hands in a despairing gesture. "I tried tostop him, but I failed," he cried.

  "Courtenay is a hard man to stop," said Tollemache, vanishing down thecompanion. The Spaniard was left alone on the bridge. He paced to andfro, deep in thought. He scarce dared probe his own communings. Socomplex were they, such a queer amalgam of noble fear and baseexpectation, that he could have cried aloud in his anguish. Big dropsof perspiration stood on his forehead when Courtenay came to him.

  "For God's sake, don't go," said he hoarsely. "Do you know you areplacing me on the rack?"

  "Your sufferings are of your own contriving, then. Why, man, there isno reason for all this agony. I have written to Elsie, brieflyexplaining matters. Here is the letter. Give it to her, if I don'treturn. And now, pull yourself together. I want you to cheer her.Above all things, don't let her know I am leaving the ship. I'll justswing myself overboard at the last moment. I can't say good-by. Idon't think I could stand that."