The Cruise of the Make-Believes

  CHAPTER XVII

  EXPLANATIONS

  DURING the time he had awaited the return of Pringle, GilbertByfield had been able to look the position clearly in the face, andto understand exactly how he was situated. Bessie alone had to beconsidered; her opinion of the situation was the one thing to bethought of then. After that first burst of laughter the real tragedyfaced him, and was not to be lightly thrust aside.

  For when this was discovered, as it must be--when this amazing fraudwas laid bare--she would see once again that the man who professed tolove her had treated her as a child, and had played again that amazinggame of make-believe. So much she must believe; for it would never becredited that Pringle had acted on his own responsibility, and thathis master had been innocent. Once again the girl must be held up toridicule; once again it must be shown that she had been playing withlife, just as she had played with it, outside the sordid details ofordinary existence, in the old garden in Arcadia Street. The islandwas no island at all; but for some extraordinary circumstance, yet tobe discovered, the little party must have been rescued a dozen timesover. The comforts of civilization had lain within a mile of them; yetthey had dealt out food sparingly, and had been tricked by a servantinto believing that a special Providence had watched over them, and hadprovided them miraculously with things the man had actually purchased.

  "How long has this game been going on, Pringle?" asked Gilbert at last,looking down at the man, who had seated himself upon the packing-casein the road.

  "Quite a long time, sir," said Pringle, recovering his cheerfulness alittle. "I've done my best, sir."

  "Your best?" exclaimed Gilbert. "Don't you understand the positionin which you have placed me; don't you understand that they've allbeen cheated and fooled--and that they'll believe it's my fault. Whatinduced you to play such a game?"

  Pringle looked really aggrieved. "It was my wish, sir, to pleaseyou," he said. "In a wakeful moment, sir, I happened to overhear yousay something to the young lady about liking the idea of this beingan island--I mean that place over there, sir--and you being cut offromantic-like with her, with nobody to interfere, sir. I'd only foundout a little while before that at a certain state of the tide youcould cut across to the mainland; and as everybody was so comfortableand happy, it seemed to me that it wasn't at all a bad idea to keepthe game alive, sir, when that game was so easy played. I had moneywith me, sir, part of which I'd used for stocking the yacht and payingwages, so there wasn't no difficulty."

  "Have you any idea where we are, or what that village is?" askedGilbert, after a gloomy pause.

  "I haven't made any exact inquiries, sir--but from the tongue and fromgeneral appearances I believe we're on a remote part of the westerncoast of Ireland. Nice people, sir--but a bit superstitious."

  "Superstitious? What do you mean?" asked Byfield.

  "Well, sir--luckily for us, they're a little bit afraid of that bit ofland we've called an island; there's a sort of feeling among them thatit's haunted, sir."

  "Haunted?"

  "Yes, sir. It seems that there was a man who had a big house here whowent a bit off his head, sir; and one day, when the tide was low, heslipped across to that bit of land, and had a look at it. He liked it,sir--and he liked the loneliness; so he got them to bring timber andso on out to him, and build him that shed that we first found on theday of our arrival. After that, sir," went on Pringle, "he liked it somuch that he lived there altogether; cooked his own food, sir, and madea sort of hermit of himself. And then one day took it into his head todie, sir."

  "Not a word of this to the ladies, mind," said Gilbert hastily.

  "Not for the world, sir," responded Pringle solemnly. "It seems, sir,that somebody came out to him, to bring food or something or other,and found that he'd passed away, sir; and ever since then there'sbeen a feeling that his ghost is knocking about, sir--unquiet like.Consequently no one comes to the place--which is a bit fortunate forus, sir."

  "I'm glad you think it's fortunate, Pringle," retorted Gilbert. "Andpray what explanation have you given of your purchases, and yoursurreptitious visits to the village?"

  Pringle got up from the box, and passed a hand slowly across his mouth;it was as though with that action he wiped away a smile that would nothave been becoming to the situation. "Well, sir, you see, I found ita bit difficult at first, sir; the natives were what you might call abit avaricious, and had a fancy for running over to the island, andselling things that they didn't actually want to keep themselves. Sohavin' discovered, sir, about the last tenant, I was careful to spreadit about that you was another one of the same kidney, sir; and I neversaid a word about anybody else bein' there at all. I hope you'll excusethe liberty, sir--but something had to be done under the circumstances.As a matter of fact, sir, of course they were only too willin' to bequiet, because I've been rather a good customer to the village, one wayand another, sir."

  The sheer absurdity of the thing was borne in again upon GilbertByfield. From where he sat he could see the path leading down thenarrow strip of sand; beyond that the great wall of rock--and beyondthat (in his imagination, at least) the little company who had beenplaying, all unconsciously, that game of privation and starvation forweeks past. He thought of how the business had begun--far away inArcadia Street; of that mad race to the yacht; of this madder businesson an island that had never been an island at all. He thought of theoutrageous costumes carefully made from comic-opera material suppliedby the resourceful Pringle: and he told himself bitterly enough thatthe one being for whom it had all been done, and for whom the sorrybusiness had been kept up, would believe less than ever that the manhad not planned it all himself in sheer mockery of her.

  The voice of Pringle recalled him to a remembrance of where he was."Excuse me, sir--but we shan't get back if we don't look quick, sir.The tide's coming up fast."

  Gilbert set off at once, and Pringle, shouldering the box, followedhim. As they came to the narrow strip of land, Gilbert turned to theman, and voiced for a moment what was in his mind.

  "For the present you will say nothing, Pringle," he suggested.

  "Very good, sir," replied the man.

  "When the time comes for the truth to be told, I'll tell it," went onGilbert. "You've landed me into rather a difficulty, Pringle; such alot of explanations will be necessary--explanations that will not bebelieved. For the next few days, at all events, our necessaries willcome to us in the same romantic fashion as before--and not from thevillage shops."

  "I quite understand, sir," said Pringle. "And if you don't hurry up,sir, we shall have to wade."

  They just got round the corner of the line of rocks in time; the seawas within a foot or two of their base, and was rapidly rising. In duecourse Pringle appeared with the news that was no longer surprising;that another box had been washed ashore. There being in it nothing moreexciting than provisions, the discovery passed almost without comment.

  Now the sea fell only in the very early morning, leaving that neckof land exposed; and fortunately for Gilbert's scheme the islanderswere not early risers. Pringle, who had kept the secret so well, wouldkeep it even better for the future; Gilbert had nothing to fear fromhim. Nothing short of an accident could betray the fact that they wereso near to civilization, and an accident of that sort was not likelyto happen. The splendid summer weather and the open-air life and thefreedom from anxiety and world-worry had had a soothing effect uponthem all; they accepted all that came to them with the blind confidenceof children, and appeared almost to have forgotten that they had everled any other lives.

  But the accident came, and the secret was surprised by the mostunexpected person of them all. Gilbert had retired to his hut onenight, when he thought he heard a movement outside it; and, knowingthat Pringle was still busily occupied with domestic arrangementsover the remains of the fire, he went out to see who was stirring atthat hour. Somewhat to his surprise he saw Mr. Edward Stocker in themoonlight, smiling apologetically, and bowing with ceremony.

  "Is anything the matter?"
asked Gilbert.

  "Nothing at all, sir," said Mr. Stocker in a whisper. "Only I ratherwanted to have a word with you--in private--if you wouldn't mindsparing me five minutes. Might I come in?"

  "By all means," said Gilbert, wondering what the little man wanted."Sorry I can't offer you a seat--but the ground's dry, and I'm used toit myself."

  "Nice little place," said Stocker, looking round it, and then loweringhimself to the ground. "For my part, sir, I often feel that in a waythis is really very much superior to Clapham. No one to call afteryou from the front door when you're going out that you haven't gotyour gloves on, or that you've got one trouser leg turned up and theother down (not that I would wish to express any disrespect to Mrs.Stocker for a moment; the very best of wives, sir). And then again youdon't have to take a cheap return to the seaside; you've got it on thepremises, as it were. Of course, you don't get the niggers, or littleentertainments of that kind; but, after all, niggers ain't everything."

  "You had something rather important to say to me," Gilbert reminded him.

  Mr. Stocker put a finger to his lips, and appeared to be listeningintently; nodded his head with relief after a moment or so; andmotioned to Byfield to sit down beside him. Then suddenly andunexpectedly, and with a note of triumph in his tones, he made adramatic announcement--

  "Sir--it's not an island at all!"

  All sorts of wild suggestions flitted through Byfield's brain. Therewas of course the possibility that Pringle, after all, had betrayedthe secret; there was the further possibility that Mr. Edward Stocker,in some early morning excursion, had discovered it for himself. Quitemechanically, Gilbert returned an evasive answer.

  "I'm afraid I don't understand you," he said. "What makes you say theplace isn't an island?"

  Mr. Stocker ventured to lay a hand on the other's arm; in hisexcitement he raised his voice a little. "This morning I went for awalk round the island, and it occurred to me that I would like to climbthe rocks at the further end--partly by way of a little pleasingexercise, and partly because I thought that if I gained the top Ishould be able to see much farther than I should while down below. Withconsiderable difficulty I gained the top, grazing myself a good dealin the process. There was only a narrow ledge to which I could cling,but the air was clear, and the view very fine. I repeat, sir," he addedimpressively--"the view was very fine."

  "Of a wide expanse of sea?" asked Gilbert.

  "No, sir; of a certain expanse of sea, and, quite near to me--land--andcivilized land at that. I distinctly saw the roofs of houses, withsmoke coming from them; I saw a bridge--and I saw many other things toindicate that we are quite close to a sort of civilization, howeverprimitive. There was a little strip of land that was almost covered bywater; but as the tide was rising I should imagine that that strip ofland is not covered at all at low water."

  Gilbert was silent for what seemed a long time; then out of thedarkness of the little hut he spoke. "Well--I suppose you've toldeverybody about it?" he said.

  "Oh, dear, no," replied Mr. Stocker, with what seemed to be a littlechuckle. "I haven't said a word all day about it; I've been waitinguntil I could catch you alone, and tell you about it."

  "I knew it some days ago," said Gilbert calmly. "But I had my ownreasons for saying nothing. Now I am in your hands, and you have aperfect right to tell anyone you like--to let the whole company walkashore, in fact, with the least possible delay."

  "Well, you see, sir--that's just my difficulty," said Edward Stockergravely. "Of course I know that everybody ought to be told--andeverybody ought to go back to their own particular walk in life, afterhaving had a rather good little holiday. But you see, sir, it meansthat Mrs. Stocker and me would go straight back to Clapham, where I'veno doubt the girl (if she thinks we're still alive) has been using mycredit to live upon, and has been keeping the little house properly andrespectably. It's a nice house, as houses go--hot and cold water, anda bit of garden back and front, and so forth; but after all it is ahouse."

  "And doubtless you will be glad to go back to it," said Gilbert.

  "Not exactly, sir--quite between ourselves, of course. You see, Mrs.Stocker and me, while rubbing along in a manner of speaking from thefirst of January until the end of the year pretty tolerably, mightsometimes hit it off a good deal better together than what we do; thatis to say, in Clapham. Now here, sir, on the contrary, we've donerather well; Mrs. Stocker has developed no edges to speak of--and theisland is a bit larger than my little bit of property at Clapham, evenwith the front and back garden thrown in. In other words, sir"--EdwardStocker lowered his voice to a mere whisper--"in other words, I'm ableto dodge Mrs. S. rather easily here--and I've had a better time thanI've ever had in all my life before. Consequently, sir, if you was tosay to me at the present moment--'Edward Stocker--be mum about it, andforget that you ever saw that bit of civilization beyond the rocks'--Ishould be the first to take you by the hand, sir, (the liberty beingexcused) and to say to you, sir--'Righto!'"

  "Then that is exactly what I want you to do," said Gilbert. "For alittle time, at least, until I know what is going to happen to us all,I want everybody to believe that we are stranded here, save for amiracle, for the rest of our lives. Go back to bed, Mr. Stocker, andsleep peacefully; unless you tell other people yourself, they willnever hear it from me."

  "I'm sure I'm very much obliged, sir," said Mr. Stocker, getting to hisfeet. "After all, sir, if the winter comes on, or we get tired of it,we can always find out quite by accident that there's a road by whichMrs. Stocker and me can start off for Clapham; let's hope it won't besoon, sir. Good night; I'm very much obliged to you."

  Gilbert was still laughing to himself over the extraordinary reasongiven by Stocker for a further sojourn on the island when the apologyfor a curtain which covered the doorway of the hut was pulled aside,and he saw Jordan Tant looking down at him. After a moment of silenceTant came in, and stood leaning against a tree which formed one of thesupports of the hut, staring moodily at Gilbert over his folded arms.In these days it was a sturdier, healthier-looking Mr. Tant, and hisfair beard and moustache rather suited him.

  "I like always to be strictly honest, Byfield," he began abruptly,"and therefore I begin at once by saying that I have been playing theeavesdropper. It was accidental; because I heard voices just as I gotup to the hut, and then I was so interested that I didn't seem to beable to tear myself away. You have every right to speak strongly aboutthe matter, but I beg that you will refrain until you have heard me."

  "How much did you hear?" asked Gilbert, feeling that now indeed thegame was ended, and that he was at the mercy of this chatterer.

  "Practically everything," replied Jordan Tant. "The first I heard wasthe surprising announcement by the man Stocker that this place was notan island--a statement afterwards corroborated by yourself. So far asthat is concerned, I may be said to resemble the man Stocker, because Itoo have to make an appeal to you."

  "An appeal?"

  Mr. Tant nodded slowly. "It is one to which I would ask you to lenda generous ear, because it is one which affects not only myself butanother person also. I refer of course to Enid--and I refer to herwith the utmost delicacy. That young lady has been placed in a mostequivocal position; she has been compelled to dress in garments totallyunsuited to her position in the world; she has been compelled to livein caves and in rude constructions of timber. Consequently, whateveris done in regard to that young lady must be done with the utmostdelicacy. Surely you see that?" Mr. Tant put his head on one side, andthoughtfully pulled at his new beard.

  "I see it from the lady's point of view, of course," replied Gilbert."But I don't quite see where the appeal comes in, so far as you'reconcerned."

  "I will explain," said Jordan Tant eagerly. "You must know that whenI was in London Enid looked coldly upon me--probably because I reallydid not shine in a civilized place. There was nothing romantic aboutme then; _you_ were the one to whom she turned, naturally, because youdid things rather out of the common. Since we have been in this place,h
owever, she seems to have discovered in me qualities which had beforelain dormant. She has hinted as much more than once, when we have beensitting in front of her rude dwelling-place at night. I will not saythat the moon has had nothing to do with it; nevertheless, the factremains that she is much more partial to me--I mean, of course, Enid,and not the moon--since we have been in this place. Perhaps my dog-likefidelity in keeping guard over her sleeping-place has touched her; atall events, she has given a promise that she will consider my claims,and will in all probability consider them favourably."

  "I'm delighted to hear it, my dear fellow," Gilbert replied. "But whatappeal have you to make to me?"

  "Not to let her know that this place is not really an island, andthat she can escape at any moment," urged Jordan Tant. "Here, my dearByfield, I am a person of importance--a man to be leant upon, and tobe trusted in an emergency; she leans upon, and she trusts me. Take meback to London, and I become at once a well-dressed atom that rides incabs and takes afternoon tea; there would be nothing heroic about methere at all."

  "But, my dear Tant--you can't remain here for ever," said Gilbert.

  "I do not ask to remain here for ever," retorted Jordan Tant. "I askto be allowed to remain here--keeping Enid in ignorance--until suchtime as she shall have promised to share what she believes to be aneverlasting exile with me. She is a woman of her word, and once shepromises to love me I can safely pass beyond the barrier of rocks,reach the mainland, and marry her with due propriety. If she were todiscover now that in a sense she has been cheated, she would believethat I had been guilty of the deception. In other words, my dearByfield, I am very near to winning her, in my present bold, bearded,and badly-dressed character; and it is the only real chance I have everhad."

  "Very well, Tant--I am already pledged not to reveal the secret--so youcan proceed with your wooing as long as you like. And I wish you luck."

  Mr. Jordan Tant felt for the other's hand in the darkness, and wrung ithard. "It's the real romance of the thing that touches her," he saidsolemnly. "The shipwreck--and the stores washed ashore--and the campfire at night--and so forth. When we do get back to London it'll be sovery nice, because we shall have quite enough to talk about for therest of our lives. Think of the difference: in the old days I was notconsidered brilliant at all at dinner parties and so forth; now I shallbe able to tell of how we nearly cast lots to decide which of us shouldbe eaten."

  "I'm glad it never came to that," said Gilbert, with a laugh.

  "I may tell you in confidence, my dear Byfield," said Tant, comingnearer to him for a moment in the darkness--"in the strictestconfidence, of course, that Enid has already assured me that had thelot fallen upon myself, nothing would have induced her to do anythingother than starve on my account. I think that's rather touching. Goodnight--and thank you!"

  So it came about that the strange game was kept alive for yet a fewdays longer. Dread of what the girl might say or do when she heardof the deception that had been practised upon her, and when she sawclearly before her the way of escape, held Gilbert silent; he knew,too, that those who had already penetrated the secret would for theirown purposes say nothing. More than once he was in a mind to tellBessie everything, and to throw himself upon her mercy; but he hadblundered too often before to care to make the experiment. She, forher part, with no particular care nor thought of the future, had herown secret to keep; she met him night after night in the wood--bindinghim to her more closely at each meeting with her innocence and hergentleness, and her tenderness for him. For now, when at last it seemedthat they were both in the same helpless position, she did not hesitateto tell him frankly and fearlessly what was in her heart, and what hadbeen in her heart so long. And even while he made up his mind thatwith the next moment she should learn the truth, she silenced him allunconsciously by whispering that now for the first time in her life shewas happy--that now all doubts and fears had been swept away. It wasall impossible--idyllic--absurd; yet he clung to the vague hope thatthey might make-believe a little longer yet.

  The utter impossibility of the whole business was sprung upon them whenMr. Daniel Meggison stepped jauntily in, and pricked the bubble. Ithad not seemed possible that that wily old schemer should be able todiscover anything; but Meggison had been cunningly setting his wits towork to discover some way of escape from the island.

  For him were no dreams and no romance; his exile here was marked onlyby the fact that he was sternly deprived of stimulants. He knew thatPringle had in charge some spirits, rigorously withheld until suchtime as they might be wanted for medicinal purposes; and it is safe toassert that Daniel Meggison had practised every art, and had pleadedevery complaint known to science, in a vain endeavour to extract themfrom Pringle's custody. But he had failed; and for that reason hadset himself to watch, in the hope that Pringle might be absent on oneoccasion, and so leave the way open for a direct theft.

  It was in that spirit that he awoke early one morning, and crept outof the large hut, leaving his companions sleeping. In this particularinstance he was rewarded; for he saw not only Pringle but GilbertByfield stealing away through the shadows of the dawn towards the northof the island. Curiosity overcame every other consideration, and DanielMeggison stealthily followed.

  It was, of course, a shopping excursion to the village. Gilbert andPringle hurried on their way, and crossed the narrow neck of land;Mr. Daniel Meggison rounded the corner of the rocks, and gasped, andsaw freedom before him. He followed them at a discreet distance, anddisappeared in the village; then, the better to enjoy his triumph,returned to the bridge, and seated himself there, and waited. And whilehe waited he gazed smilingly at the dawn through a bottle he held upbefore one eye.

  Gilbert Byfield and Pringle, toiling up to the bridge, came upon him,and stopped in amazement; Daniel Meggison winked at them knowingly. Hisface was flushed, and he had about him some of the old swagger that hadbeen seen in Arcadia Street.

  "Splendid notion!" he said, pointing at the village and then at thedistant line of rocks--"quite the best game of all, my dear Byfield. Ibeg you'll keep it up. I was so fortunate as to find an early morninghouse; charmingly easy manners the Irish have. Trust me, my dearByfield--I won't say a word. Splendid notion!"