The Coast of Adventure

  CHAPTER IV

  THE "ENCHANTRESS"

  On reaching the steamer's deck, Evelyn glanced with curiosity at herrescuer. He was a tall, lightly built man, dressed in an old blue shirt,paint-stained duck trousers, and ragged canvas shoes, but he had an easymanner that was not in harmony with his rough clothes. Evelyn liked hisbrown face. It had a hint of force in it; though now he was watching herwith a half-amused smile. He fell short of being handsome, but, on thewhole, his appearance made a good impression on the girl.

  Then she looked about the vessel. The deck, finely laid with narrowplanks, was littered with odd spars, rusty chain, coal bags, and piecesof greasy machinery, as if repairs and refitting were going on. She wasa very small, two-masted steamer, carrying some sail, for smoke-grimedcanvas was furled along the booms, and Evelyn thought she had been builtfor a yacht. Her narrow beam, her graceful sweep of teakwood rail, andthe long, tapering counter suggested speed. A low, lead-gray funnelstood just forward of the mainmast, and a teak house, rising three orfour feet above the deck, occupied part of her length. The brass boss ofthe steering wheel bore the name _Enchantress_. The after end of thehouse, however, was built of iron, with raised lights in the top, andthe hammering and the pointed remarks that came up indicated thatsomebody below was grappling with refractory metal. After oneexclamation, Evelyn's companion walked to the skylights.

  "Mack," he said in a warning tone, "there's a lady on board."

  "One o' they half-dressed hussies from the hotel? Man, I thought ye hadmair taste," a hoarse voice replied.

  Evelyn was glad that her boating costume was not in the extreme offashion, for sleeves and skirts were severely curtailed then, but shewaited with some amusement.

  "Come up and don't talk!" said the man who had brought her on board."Here's a job for you."

  "That's one thing I'll never die for the want of," the voice below wenton. "I've got jobs enough already, and no help wi' them. Ye cannot makea mechanic out o' a dago muleteer, and the gangrel son o' a richAmerican is no' much better. They're wrecking the bonny mill and when Ihad them strike at a bit forging the weariful deevils smashed my finger.I telt them----"

  "It won't stand for repeating. Let up; you've the voice of a bull,"somebody broke in. "Grahame's waiting with a lady. Can't you get a moveon?"

  "What's the lady wanting--is it her watch mending?" the Scot asked witha hint of eagerness. A passion for tampering with the works of watchesnot infrequently characterizes the marine engineer.

  "Come and see!" called Evelyn's companion; and a few moments later themechanic appeared.

  He was big, rather gaunt, and very dirty; but he carried himself well,and had obviously just put on a smart blue jacket with brass buttonsthat bore the crest of an English mail line. Evelyn thought his age wasbetween forty and fifty, but his eyes had a humorous twinkle and his airwas rakish. Behind him came a much younger man in greasy overalls.

  The engineer bowed to Evelyn with some grace.

  "Ye'll be Miss Cliffe; I ken ye by sight," he said. "They telt me who yewere in the bar at the hotel."

  "Do they talk about me in such places?" Evelyn asked with a touch ofhaughtiness.

  "What would ye expect? When ye're born good-looking, ye must take theconsequences. But, as Grahame has nae manners, I'll presentmyself--Andrew Macallister, extra chief's ticket, and noo, throughspeaking my mind to a director, engineer o' this barge." He indicatedhis greasy companion. "Mr. Walthew, who, though ye might not think it byhis look, was taught at Harvard. If my temper stands the strain, I maymake a useful greaser o' him yet. The other ye nae doot ken."

  "No," said Evelyn, half amused. "He kindly came to my help when I was introuble with my boat."

  "Then he's skipper. They call him Grahame, and it's a good Scottishname. But I was hoping ye had maybe some difficulty with your watch."

  "Why did you hope so?" Evelyn asked, laughing.

  "On no account let him have it," Walthew interposed. "He brought backthe last watch a confiding visitor left him with the gold case badlycrushed. 'I had to screw her in the vice, but a bit rub with a file willsmooth her off,' he told the owner."

  "He was a fastidious beast o' a Custom House grafter," Macallisterexplained. "But if it's no' a watch, what way can I serve ye?"

  Grahame took him to the sloop and showed him the gaff, and a few minuteslater he came back with the bent jaws.

  "It's no' a bad piece o' work; your people have an eye for design, butthey make things too light," he said. "Noo I'll cut ye a new grip out o'solid brass, but it will take an hour."

  "I suppose I must wait; there's no other way of getting back," Evelynanswered dubiously.

  Macallister went below, and Grahame put a deck chair for Evelyn underthe awning in the stern, where he sat down on a coil of rope, whileWalthew leaned against the rail near by. The girl felt interested inthem all. She had heard that Walthew had been to Harvard, and hisappearance suggested that he belonged to her own world. If so, what washe doing in the _Enchantress's_ engine room? Then, Macallister's randomtalk had some piquancy. His manners were not polished, but they weregood in their way.

  "The steamer is yours, I suppose?" she remarked.

  "Yes," said Grahame. "We bought her cheap, and are getting her ready forsea. As I dare say you have noticed, she needs refitting."

  "But wouldn't that have been easier at New Orleans or Galveston?"

  "Perhaps, if we were able to hire professional assistance, but we haveto do the work ourselves, and this place is quiet, and clean forpainting."

  "Aren't you painting her an unusual color? White would have beenprettier than this dingy gray."

  "White's conspicuous," Walthew answered, and Evelyn noticed Grahame'swarning glance. "A neutral tint stands better, and doesn't show thedirt. You see, we have to think of our pockets."

  "Then it isn't to be a pleasure trip. Where are you going?"

  "Up the Gulf Stream. To Cuba first, and then south and west; whereverthere's a chance of trade."

  "But the boat is very small. What do you think of trading in?"

  "Anything that comes along," Walthew answered with a thoughtful air. "Wemight catch turtles, for example."

  "One understands that turtles are now farmed for the market."

  "It would be cheaper to catch them. We might get mahogany."

  "But mahogany logs are big. You couldn't carry many."

  "We could tow them in a raft. Then the English and American tourists whocome out in the mail boats might charter us for trips."

  "I'm afraid you'd find them exacting. They'd expect nice berths and agood table. Do you carry a good cook?"

  Grahame chuckled and Walthew grinned.

  "Modesty prevents my answering, because my partners leave me to put upthe hash. I'll admit it might be better; but our passengers wouldn'tfind that out until we got them away at sea."

  Evelyn was frankly amused. She could not imagine his cooking very well,but she liked his humorous candor.

  "Your plans seem rather vague," she said.

  "They are, but one doesn't want a cut and dried program for a cruiseabout the Spanish Main. One takes what comes along; in the old days itused to be rich plate ships and windfalls of that kind, and I guessthere's still something to be picked up when you get off the liners'track. One expects to find adventures on the seas that Drake andFrobisher sailed."

  Evelyn mused. She was shrewd enough to perceive that the men were hidingsomething, and they roused her curiosity, but she thought Walthew wasright. Romance was not dead, and the Spanish Main was a name to conjurewith. It brought one visions of desolate keys where treasure was hidden,the rush of the lukewarm Gulf Stream over coral reefs, of palm-fringedinlets up which the pinnaces had crept to cut out Spanish galleons, andof old white cities that the buccaneers had sacked. Tragic and heroicmemories haunted that blue sea, and although luxurious mail boats plowedit now, the passions of the old desperados still burned in the hearts ofmen.

  Walthew was smooth-faced, somewhat ingenuous, and m
arked by boyishhumor, but Evelyn had noticed his athletic form, and thought he could bedetermined. He was no doubt proficient in sports that demanded strengthand nerve. For all that, it was Grahame and his hawk-like look that herthoughts dwelt most upon, for something about him suggested that he hadalready found the adventures his comrade was seeking. He was a soldierof fortune, who had taken wounds and perhaps still bore their scars. Sheremembered the cool judgment he had shown when he came to her rescue.

  Walthew disturbed her reflections.

  "It will be some time before Andrew fixes your gaff, and there's no usein trying to hurry him," he said. "He's an artist in metal, and neverlets up until he's satisfied with a job. So, as you must wait and wehave a kettle on the forge below, I can offer you some tea and I'd likeyour opinion of the biscuit I've been baking for supper."

  Evelyn felt doubtful. She was spending the afternoon in a way her motherwould certainly not approve of, but she could not get ashore until thegaff was mended. Besides, it was pleasant to sit under the awning withthe fresh sea breeze on her face and listen to the splash of the comberson the bows. Then she was interested in her companions. They weredifferent from the rather vapid loungers she would have been talking tohad she stayed at the hotel.

  She let Walthew go and then turned to Grahame.

  "Have you known your partner long?" she asked.

  "No; I met him for the first time in New Orleans a few months ago."

  "I asked because he's a type that I'm well acquainted with," Evelynexplained.

  "And you would not have expected to find him cooking and cleaningengines on a boat like this?"

  "No; they're rather unusual occupations for a conventionally brought upyoung American."

  Grahame smiled.

  "I understand that Walthew might have enjoyed all the comforts yourcivilization has to offer, but he preferred the sea. Perhaps I'mprejudiced, but I don't blame him. There's a charm in freedom and thewide horizon."

  "Yes," she agreed thoughtfully, looking across the blue water; "Isuppose that's true. If a man has the courage to break away, he canfollow his bent. It's different with women. We're securely fenced in;our corral walls are high."

  "They keep trouble out. Hardship and danger aren't pleasant things, andafter a time the romance of the free-lance's life wears off. Onesometimes looks longingly at the sheltered nooks that men with settledhabits occupy."

  "And yet you follow your star!"

  "Star's too idealistic; my bent is better. What's born in one must haveits way. This is perhaps most convenient when it's an inherited geniusfor making money."

  "It's useful to oneself and others," Evelyn agreed. "But do thesetalents run in the blood?"

  "It seems so," Grahame answered, and was quiet for a time, languidlywatching the girl and wondering how far his statement was true.

  It might be argued that the strongest family strains must be weakened bymarriage, and their salient characteristics disappear in a fewgenerations, but he felt strangely akin to the mosstroopers of his namewho scourged the Scottish Border long ago. Their restlessness and lustof adventure were his. This, however, was not a matter of muchconsequence. Chance had thrown him into the company of a pretty andintelligent girl, and he must try to entertain her.

  "You're fond of the sea and adventurous, or you wouldn't have driventhat little sloop so far out under full sail," he said.

  "Oh," she admitted, smiling, "that was partly because I wanted to showmy skill and was ashamed to turn back when the breeze freshened."

  Grahame laughed. He liked her frankness.

  "After all," he said, "it's a feeling that drives a good many of us on.A weakness, perhaps, but it may be better than excessive caution."

  "A matter of opinion. Of course, if you determine never to do anythingfoolish, you're apt to do nothing at all. But I'm afraid I can't throwmuch light upon these subjects.... Here comes our tea."

  It was drinkable, but Evelyn thought the biscuit could undoubtedly havebeen better. For all that, she enjoyed the meal, and when it was overMacallister appeared with the mended gaff.

  "I'm thinking yon will never bend or jamb," he said, indicating thebeautifully finished pieces of brass-work.

  Evelyn thanked him, and soon afterward Grahame helped her into the boatand hoisted the reefed sail. The wind was still fresh, but the sloop ranshoreward safely, with the sparkling seas ranging up on her quarter, andGrahame admired the grace of the neat, blue-clad figure at the helm. Therushing breeze and the flying spray had brought a fine color into thegirl's face and a brightness to her eyes.

  As they neared the beach, a gasolene launch came plunging out to meetthem, and Evelyn laughed as she turned to Grahame.

  "I've been missed at last," she said. "That's my father coming to lookfor me."

  The launch swung round close alongside and Grahame recognized that hewas being subjected to a keen scrutiny by a man on board. The brokenwater, however, made explanations impossible, and the launch followedthe sloop to the inlet, where Evelyn neatly brought the craft up to thelanding. On getting ashore, she spoke to Cliffe, and he thanked Grahameand invited him to the hotel. Grahame politely declined, but agreed toborrow the launch to take him on board.

  As he was leaving, Evelyn held out her hand.

  "It was fortunate that my difficulties began when I was near your boat,and I don't altogether regret them. I have spent a pleasant afternoon,"she said.

  Grahame bowed and turned away; but somewhat to his surprise, he foundhis thoughts return to his guest as the launch carried him back to thesteamer. The girl was cultured and intelligent, perhaps a littleromantic, and unspoiled by luxury; but this was nothing to him. Therewere times when he felt lonely and outcast from his kind, for until hemet Walthew his comrades had generally been rough and broken men. Someyears ago he had been a favorite with well-bred women; but he never metthem on terms of friendship now. He was poor, and would no doubt remainso, since he had not the gift of making money; but an untrammeled,wandering life had its advantages.

  With a smile at his brief relapse into sentiment, he resolved to forgetMiss Cliffe; but he found it strangely difficult to occupy his mind withcalculations about stores for the coming voyage.

  Evelyn related her adventure to her mother, who listened with strongdisapproval. Mrs. Cliffe was a thin, keen-eyed woman, with socialambitions and some skill in realizing them.

  "If you hadn't been so rash as to go out alone, this wouldn't havehappened," she remarked. "You must really be more careful."

  "I couldn't prevent the gaff's jambing," Evelyn replied.

  "That is not what I meant. After all, nobody in the hotel knows muchabout the matter, and there is, of course, no need to do more than bowto the men if you meet them at the landing, though it would be better toavoid this, if possible. A small favor of the kind they did you does notjustify their claiming your acquaintance."

  "Father wanted to bring one of them here."

  "Your father is a man of business, and has very little discretion insocial matters," Mrs. Cliffe replied. "If Reggie cannot go with you,take the hotel boatman when you next go sailing."

  Evelyn did not answer, but she disagreed with the views her mother hadexpressed, and she resolved to leave Reggie ashore. For one thing, hewas not of much use in a boat. Yet it was curious that she had once beenpleased to take him out.