Hurricane Island

  CHAPTER XV

  THE FIGHT IN THE MUSIC-ROOM

  The _Sea Queen_ was making way on her northerly course athwart the longrollers of the Pacific. The wind blew briskly from the west, and thesea ran high, so that the yacht lay over with a strong list as shebattled through the rough water. My watch began at twelve o'clock thatnight, and I took the precaution to lie down for a rest about eight. Ifell asleep to the sound of the sea against my porthole window, butawoke in good time. It was full dark, and, save for the screw and theeternal long wash without, there was silence. Somehow the verypersistence of these sounds seemed profounder silence. I groped my wayinto the passage, with the screw kicking under my feet, and passedBarraclough's cabin. Still there was no sound or sign of life, but Iperceived the glimmer of a light beyond, and seeing that it issued fromPye's cabin I turned the handle of the door. It was locked.

  "Who is that?" demanded a tremulous voice.

  "It's I. Let me in," I called back.

  The door was opened slowly and little Pye stood before me. In theillumination of the incandescent wire he stood out ghastly white.

  "It's you, doctor," he said weakly.

  The smell of spirits pervaded the cabin. I looked across and saw atumbler in the rack, half full of whisky and water. He noticed thedirection of my gaze.

  "I can't sleep," said he. "This heavy water has given me a touch ofsea-sickness. I feel awfully queer."

  "I don't suppose whisky will do you any good," said I.

  He laughed feebly and vacantly. "Oh, but it does! It stays the stomach.Different people are affected different ways, doctor." As he spoke hetook down the glass with quivering fingers and drank from it in aclumsy gulp.

  "I shall be better if I can get to sleep," he said nervously, and drankagain.

  "Pye, you're making trouble for yourself," said I. "You'll be prettybad before morning."

  "Oh, for goodness' sake, don't talk about morning!" he broke out in afit of terror.

  I gazed at him in astonishment, and he tried to recover under my eyes.

  "That's not your first glass," said I.

  He did not deny it. "I can't go on without it. Let me alone, doctor;for heaven's sake let me alone."

  I gave him up. "Well, if you are going to obfuscate yourself in thisfoolish manner," I said, my voice disclosing my contempt, "at leasttake my advice and don't lock yourself in. None but hysterical women dothat."

  I was closing the door when he put a hand out.

  "Doctor, doctor...." I paused, and he looked at me piteously. "Couldyou give me a sleeping draught?"

  "If you'll leave that alone, I will," I said; and I returned to mycabin and brought some sulphonal tabloids.

  "This will do you less harm than whisky," I said. "Now buck up and be aman, Pye."

  He thanked me and stood looking at me. His hands nervously adjusted hisglasses on his nose. He took one of the tabloids and shakily lifted hiswhisky and water to wash it down his throat. He coughed and sputtered,and with a shiver turned away from me. He lifted the glass again anddrained it.

  "Good-bye, doctor--good-night, I mean," he said hoarsely, with his backstill to me. "I'm all right. I think I shall go to sleep now."

  "Well, that's wise," said I, "and I'll look in and see how you go onwhen my watch is over."

  He started, turned half-way to me and stopped. "Right you are," hesaid, with a struggle after cheerfulness. His back was still to me. Hehad degrading cowardice in his very appearance. Somehow I was moved topat him on the shoulder.

  "That's all right, man. Get to sleep."

  For answer he broke into tears and blubbered aloud, throwing himselfface downwards on his bunk.

  "Come, Pye!" said I. "Why, what's this, man?"

  "I'm a bit upset," he said, regaining some control of himself. "I thinkthe sea-sickness has upset me. But I'm all right." He lay on his face,and was silent. And so (for I was due now in the corridor) I left him.As I turned away, I could have sworn I heard the key click in the door.He had locked himself in again.

  Lane was on duty at the farther end of the corridor, and I had the doornear the entrance connecting with the music balcony. Two electriclights shed a faint glow through the length and breadth of thecorridor, and over all was silence. As I sat in my chair, fingering myrevolver, my thoughts turned over the situation helplessly, and swunground finally to the problem of Barraclough and Mademoiselle. ThePrincess and I had guessed what was forward, and Lane also had aninkling. Only the Prince was ignorant of the signal flirtation whichwas in progress under his nose. I suppose such a woman could not remainwithout victims. It did not suffice for her that she had captured aprince of the blood, had dislocated the policy of a kingdom, and hadruined a man's life. She must have other trophies of her beauty, andBarraclough was one. I was sorry for him, though I cannot say that Iliked him. The dull, unimaginative and wholesome Briton had toppledover before the sensuous arts of the French beauty. His anxiety was forher. He had not shown himself timorous as to the result before.Doubtless she had infected him with her fears. Possibly, even, it wasat the lady's suggestion that he had made advances to Holgate.

  Suddenly my thoughts were diverted by a slight noise, and, lookinground, I saw Lane advancing swiftly towards me.

  "I say, Phillimore," he said in a hoarse whisper, "I've lost the key."

  "Key!" I echoed. "What key?" For I did not at once take in his meaning.

  "Why, man, the purser's key--the key of the strong room," he saidimpatiently.

  I gazed in silence at him. "But you must have left it below," I said atlast.

  "Not I," he answered emphatically. "I'm no juggins. They're always onme. I go to bed in them, so to speak. See here." He pulled a ring ofkeys from his pocket. "This is how I keep 'em--on my double chain. Theydon't leave me save at nights when I undress. Well, it's gone, and I'mdamned if I know when it went or how it went."

  He gazed, frowning deeply at his bunch.

  "That's odd," I commented.

  "It puts me in a hole," said he. "How the mischief can I have lost it?I can't think how it can have slipped off. And it's the only one gone,too."

  "It didn't slip off," said I. "It's been stolen."

  He looked at me queerly. "That makes it rather worse, old chap," hesaid hesitatingly. "For it don't go out of my hands."

  "Save at night," said I.

  He was silent. "Hang it, what does any blighter want to steal it for?"he demanded in perplexity.

  "Well, we know what's in the strong room," I said.

  "Yes--but----" There was a sound.

  "To your door," said I. "Quick, man."

  Lane sped along the corridor to his station, and just as he reached ita door opened and Princess Alix emerged. She hesitated for a moment andthen came towards me. It was bitterly cold, and she was clad in herfurs. She came to a pause near me.

  "I could not sleep, and it is early yet," she said. "Are you expectingdanger?"

  "We have always to act as if we were," I said evasively.

  She was examining my face attentively, and now looked away as if herscrutiny had satisfied her.

  "Why has this man never made any attempt to get the safes?" she askednext.

  "I wish I knew," I replied, and yet in my mind was that strange pieceof information I had just had from Lane. Who had stolen the key?

  The Princess uttered a little sigh, and, turning, began to walk to andfro.

  "It is sometimes difficult to keep one's feet when the floor is at thisangle," she remarked as she drew near to me; and then she paced againinto the distance. She was nervous and distressed, I could see, thoughher face had not betrayed the fact. Yet how was I to comfort her? Wewere all on edge. Once again she paused near me.

  "What are our chances?"

  "They are hopeful," said I, as cheerfully as I might. "The fortress hasalways more chances than the leaguers, providing rations hold out, andthere is no fear of ours."

  "Ah, tell me the truth!" she cried with agitation.

  "Madam, I have said w
hat is exactly true," I replied gravely. "I havespoken of chances."

  "And if we lose?" she asked after a pause.

  Her eyes encountered mine fully. "I have no information," I saidslowly, "and very little material to go on in guessing. But I hope weshall not lose," I added.

  "This can't go on forever, Dr. Phillimore," she said with a littlecatch in her voice. "It has gone on so long."

  My heart bled for her. She had been so courageous; she had shown suchfortitude, such resistance, such common sense, this beautiful proudwoman; and she was now breaking down before one of her brother'semployees.

  "It can't go on much longer," I said, again gravely. "It will come toits own conclusion presently."

  "Ah, but what conclusion?" she cried. "Who knows! Who knows?"

  The sight of her agitation, of that splendid woman nigh to tears,thrilled me to the marrow with a storm of compassion and somethingmore. I was carried out of myself.

  "God be witness," I cried, "that while I live you shall be safe fromany harm. God be my witness for that."

  She uttered a tiny sob and put out her hand impulsively.

  "You are good," she said brokenly. "I am a coward to give way. But Iwas alone. I have brooded over it all. And Frederic--Thank you, oh,thank you! To have said so much, perhaps, has helped me. Oh, we shallall live--live to talk of these days with shudders and thankfulness toGod. You are right to call God to witness. He is our witness now--Helooks down on us both, and He will help us. I will pray to Him thisnight, as I have prayed three times a day."

  She spoke in a voice full of emotion, and very low and earnest, and herhand was still in mine. And, as she finished, the two electric lightsin the corridor went out, leaving us in pitch darkness. I felt thePrincess shudder.

  "Be brave," I whispered. "Oh, be brave! You have called to God. He willhear you."

  "Yes, yes," she whispered back, and clutched my hand tighter, drawingnearer me till her furs rested against my breast. "But what is it? Whatdoes it mean?"

  "It may mean nothing," I replied, "but it may mean----"

  I put my ear to the door, still holding her, and listened. Through thenoises of the sea I could make out other and alien sounds. "Theycome... You must go. Can you find your way?"

  "Let me stay," she murmured breathlessly.

  "No, no; go," I said. "Your place is in your cabin just now. Remember,I know where it is and I can find you."

  "Yes, find me," she panted. "Please find me. See, I--I have this." Sheput the butt of a revolver into my hand. "That has been by me since thefirst. But come; find me--if--if it is necessary."

  I raised her hand to my lips and she melted away. I turned to the door.

  "Lane!" I called. "Lane!"

  His voice sailed back to me. "What's gone wrong with the lights?"

  "They're coming," I said. "Look to your door." And even as I spoke abar crashed upon mine from without. In an instant the corridor was fullof noises. The mutineers were upon us, but they had divided theirforces, and were coming at different quarters. It remained to be seenat which spot their main attack was to be delivered. I put my revolverthrough one of the holes we had drilled in the door, and fired. It wasimpossible to say if my shot took effect, but I hoped so, and I heardthe sound of Lane's repeater at the farther end. The blows on the doorwere redoubled, and it seemed to me to be yielding. I emptied two morecartridges through the hole at a venture, and that one went home Iknew, since I had touched a body with the muzzle as I pulled the trigger.Ellison was on guard in the saloon below, and Grant and the cook in themusic saloon; and I judged from the sounds that reached me in the_melee_ that they also were at work. By this time Barraclough andJackson and the Prince had arrived on the scene, the last with a lanternwhich he swung over his head. Barraclough joined me, and Jackson wasdespatched to grope his way into the saloon to assist Ellison. The Princehimself took his station with Lane, and I heard the noise of his weaponseveral times. My door had not yet given way, but I was afraid of thoseswinging blows, and both Barraclough and I continued to fire. Thecorridor filled with smoke and the smell of powder.

  "Do you think he's made up his mind to get through here?" askedBarraclough.

  "I don't know," I shouted back. "He's attacking in three places, at anyrate. We can't afford to neglect any one of them."

  "Confound this darkness!" he exclaimed furiously. "Oh, for an hour ofdawn!"

  The blows descended on the door, but still it held, and I began towonder why. Surely a body of men with axes should have destroyed theflimsy boards by this time. It looked as if this was not the realobjective of the attack. I sprang to the bolt and was drawing it whenBarraclough called out, for he could see in the dim light of thelantern.

  "Good heavens, man, are you mad?"

  "No," I called back. "Stand ready to fire. I believe there's practicallyno one behind this"; and, having now released the bolt, I flung openthe door. Simultaneously Barraclough fired through the open darkness,and a body took the deck heavily, floundering on the threshold. Therest was silence. No one was visible or audible. But at my feet lay twobodies.

  "I thought so," I said excitedly. "This was mere bluff. And so's theattack on Lane's door. See, there's no force there. I will settlethat."

  I delivered a pistol shot along the deck in the direction of someshadows, and retreated, bolting the door behind me.

  "Where is it?" gasped Barraclough, out of breath.

  "One at each door will do," said I. "Fetch Lane here. I think its themusic-room. You and I had better get there as fast as we can."

  Without disputing my assumption of authority, he ran down the corridor,and explained our discovery, returning presently with Lane. Then wemade for the music-room.

  It was pitch black on the stairs, but we groped our way through, guidedby the sounds within. Barraclough struck a match and shed a light onthe scene. For an instant it flared and sputtered, discovering to usthe situation in that cockpit. The place was a shambles. Grant was atbay in a corner, the cook lay dead, and half a dozen mutineers werestruggling in the foreground with some persons I could not see: whilethrough the broken boards of the windows other men were climbing. Withan oath Barraclough dropped his match and rushed forward. My revolverhad barked as he did so, and one of the ruffians who was crawlingthrough the window toppled head first into the saloon. But the darknesshampered us, for it was impossible to tell who was friend or enemy; andI believe it had hampered the mutineers also, or they must havetriumphed long ere this. I engaged in a hand-to-hand struggle with someone who gripped me by the throat and struck at me with a knife. I feltit rip along my shoulder, and a throb of pain jumped in my arm. But thenext moment I had him under foot and had used the last cartridge in mychamber.

  "Where are you, Grant, Barraclough, Ellison?" I called out, and I heardabove the din of oaths and feet and bumping a voice call hoarsely tome. Whose it was I could not say and upon that came an exclamation ofpain or cry. "My God!"

  With the frenzy of the lust of blood upon me, I seized some one anddrove my revolver heavily into his skull. I threw another man to thefloor from behind, and was then seized as in a grasp of a vice. Iturned about and struggled fiercely, and together my assailant and Irocked and rolled from point to point. Neither of us had any weapon, itappeared, and all that we could do was to struggle in that mutual andtenacious grip and trust to chance. I felt myself growing weaker, but Idid not relax my hold and, indeed, came to the conclusion that if I wasto survive it must be by making a superhuman effort. With all the forceof my muscles and the weight of my body I pushed my man forward, at thesame time striving to bend him backward. He gave way a little andstruck the railings that surrounded the well of the saloon, bumpingalong them heavily. Then recovering, he exerted all his strengthagainst me, and we swayed together. Suddenly there was a crack in myears, the rail parted asunder, and we both toppled over into space. Athud followed which seemed to be in my very brain, and then I knewnothing.

  When I was next capable of taking in impressions with my senses I wasawa
re of a great stillness. Vacantly my mind groped its way back to thepast, and I recalled that I had fallen, and must be now in the saloon.Immediately on that I was conscious that I was resting upon some stillbody, which must be that of my opponent who had fallen under me. Whathad happened? I could hear no sounds of any conflict in progress. Hadthe enemy taken possession of the state-rooms, and were all of ourparty prisoners or dead? I rose painfully into a sitting posture, andput out a hand to guide myself. It fell on a quiet face. The man wasdead.

  It was with infinite difficulty that I got to my feet, sore, aching,and dizzy, and groped my way to the wall. Which way was I to go? Whichway led out? The only sound I seemed to hear was the regular thumpingof the screw below me, which was almost as if it had been in thearteries of my head, beating in consonance with my heart. Then an ideastruck me, flooding me with horror, and bracing my shattered nerves.The Princess! I had promised to go to her if all was lost. I hadbetrayed my trust.

  As I thought this I staggered down the saloon, clutching the wall, andcame abruptly against a pillar which supported the balcony above. Fromthis I let myself go at a venture, and walked into the closed doorforthright. Congratulating myself on my luck, I turned the handle andpassed into the darkness of the passages beyond. And now a sound ofvoices flowed toward me, voices raised in some excitement, and I couldperceive a light some way along the passage in the direction of theofficers' cabins. As I stood waiting, resolute, not knowing if thesewere friends or foes, and fearing the latter, a man emerged toward mewith a lantern.

  "If that fool would only switch on the light it would be easier," hesaid in a voice which I did not recognise. But the face over thelantern was familiar to me. It was Pierce, the murderer of McCrae, andthe chief figure after Holgate in that mutiny and massacre. I shrankback behind the half-open door, but he did not see me. He had turnedand gone back with an angry exclamation.

  "Stand away there!" I heard, in a voice of authority, and I knew thevoice this time.

  It was Holgate's. The mutineers had the ship.

  What, then, had become of the Prince's party? What fate had envelopedthem? I waited no longer, but staggered rather than slipped out of thesaloon and groped in the darkness toward the stairs. Once on them, Ipulled myself up by the balustrade until I reached the landing, wherethe entrance-hall gave on the state-rooms. I was panting, I was aching,every bone seemed broken in my body, and I had no weapon. How was I toface the ruffians, who might be in possession of the rooms? I tried thehandle of the door, but it was locked. I knocked, and then knockedlouder with my knuckles. Was it possible that some one remained alive?Summoning my wits to my aid, I gave the signal which had been used byme on previous occasions on returning from my expeditions. There was apause; then a key turned; the door opened, and I fell forward into thecorridor.