The Rescue: A Romance of the Shallows Read online

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  It was half-past eight o'clock before Lingard came on deck again.Shaw--now with a coat on--trotted up and down the poop leaving behindhim a smell of tobacco smoke. An irregularly glowing spark seemed to runby itself in the darkness before the rounded form of his head. Above themasts of the brig the dome of the clear heaven was full of lights thatflickered, as if some mighty breathings high up there had been swayingabout the flame of the stars. There was no sound along the brig's decks,and the heavy shadows that lay on it had the aspect, in that silence,of secret places concealing crouching forms that waited in perfectstillness for some decisive event. Lingard struck a match to light hischeroot, and his powerful face with narrowed eyes stood out for a momentin the night and vanished suddenly. Then two shadowy forms and two redsparks moved backward and forward on the poop. A larger, but a palerand oval patch of light from the compass lamps lay on the brasses ofthe wheel and on the breast of the Malay standing by the helm. Lingard'svoice, as if unable altogether to master the enormous silence of thesea, sounded muffled, very calm--without the usual deep ring in it.

  "Not much change, Shaw," he said.

  "No, sir, not much. I can just see the island--the big one--still inthe same place. It strikes me, sir, that, for calms, this here sea is adevil of locality."

  He cut "locality" in two with an emphatic pause. It was a good word. Hewas pleased with himself for thinking of it. He went on again:

  "Now--since noon, this big island--"

  "Carimata, Shaw," interrupted Lingard.

  "Aye, sir; Carimata--I mean. I must say--being a stranger hereabouts--Ihaven't got the run of those--"

  He was going to say "names" but checked himself and said,"appellations," instead, sounding every syllable lovingly.

  "Having for these last fifteen years," he continued, "sailed regularlyfrom London in East-Indiamen, I am more at home over there--in the Bay."

  He pointed into the night toward the northwest and stared as if he couldsee from where he stood that Bay of Bengal where--as he affirmed--hewould be so much more at home.

  "You'll soon get used--" muttered Lingard, swinging in his rapid walkpast his mate. Then he turned round, came back, and asked sharply.

  "You said there was nothing afloat in sight before dark? Hey?"

  "Not that I could see, sir. When I took the deck again at eight, I askedthat serang whether there was anything about; and I understood him tosay there was no more as when I went below at six. This is a lonely seaat times--ain't it, sir? Now, one would think at this time of the yearthe homeward-bounders from China would be pretty thick here."

  "Yes," said Lingard, "we have met very few ships since we left PedraBranca over the stern. Yes; it has been a lonely sea. But for all that,Shaw, this sea, if lonely, is not blind. Every island in it is an eye.And now, since our squadron has left for the China waters--"

  He did not finish his sentence. Shaw put his hands in his pockets, andpropped his back against the sky-light, comfortably.

  "They say there is going to be a war with China," he said in a gossipingtone, "and the French are going along with us as they did in the Crimeafive years ago. It seems to me we're getting mighty good friends withthe French. I've not much of an opinion about that. What do you think,Captain Lingard?"

  "I have met their men-of-war in the Pacific," said Lingard, slowly. "Theships were fine and the fellows in them were civil enough to me--andvery curious about my business," he added with a laugh. "However, Iwasn't there to make war on them. I had a rotten old cutter then, fortrade, Shaw," he went on with animation.

  "Had you, sir?" said Shaw without any enthusiasm. "Now give me a bigship--a ship, I say, that one may--"

  "And later on, some years ago," interrupted Lingard, "I chummed witha French skipper in Ampanam--being the only two white men in the wholeplace. He was a good fellow, and free with his red wine. His Englishwas difficult to understand, but he could sing songs in his own languageabout ah-moor--Ah-moor means love, in French--Shaw."

  "So it does, sir--so it does. When I was second mate of a Sunderlandbarque, in forty-one, in the Mediterranean, I could pay out their lingoas easy as you would a five-inch warp over a ship's side--"

  "Yes, he was a proper man," pursued Lingard, meditatively, as if forhimself only. "You could not find a better fellow for company ashore. Hehad an affair with a Bali girl, who one evening threw a red blossom athim from within a doorway, as we were going together to pay our respectsto the Rajah's nephew. He was a good-looking Frenchman, he was--but thegirl belonged to the Rajah's nephew, and it was a serious matter. Theold Rajah got angry and said the girl must die. I don't think the nephewcared particularly to have her krissed; but the old fellow made a greatfuss and sent one of his own chief men to see the thing done--and thegirl had enemies--her own relations approved! We could do nothing. Mind,Shaw, there was absolutely nothing else between them but that unluckyflower which the Frenchman pinned to his coat--and afterward, when thegirl was dead, wore under his shirt, hung round his neck in a small box.I suppose he had nothing else to put it into."

  "Would those savages kill a woman for that?" asked Shaw, incredulously.

  "Aye! They are pretty moral there. That was the first time in my lifeI nearly went to war on my own account, Shaw. We couldn't talk thosefellows over. We couldn't bribe them, though the Frenchman offered thebest he had, and I was ready to back him to the last dollar, to the lastrag of cotton, Shaw! No use--they were that blamed respectable. So, saysthe Frenchman to me: 'My friend, if they won't take our gunpowder for agift let us burn it to give them lead.' I was armed as you see now;six eight-pounders on the main deck and a long eighteen on theforecastle--and I wanted to try 'em. You may believe me! However, theFrenchman had nothing but a few old muskets; and the beggars got towindward of us by fair words, till one morning a boat's crew from theFrenchman's ship found the girl lying dead on the beach. That put an endto our plans. She was out of her trouble anyhow, and no reasonable manwill fight for a dead woman. I was never vengeful, Shaw, and--afterall--she didn't throw that flower at me. But it broke the Frenchman upaltogether. He began to mope, did no business, and shortly afterwardsailed away. I cleared a good many pence out of that trip, I remember."

  With these words he seemed to come to the end of his memories of thattrip. Shaw stifled a yawn.

  "Women are the cause of a lot of trouble," he said, dispassionately."In the Morayshire, I remember, we had once a passenger--an oldgentleman--who was telling us a yarn about them old-time Greeks fightingfor ten years about some woman. The Turks kidnapped her, or something.Anyway, they fought in Turkey; which I may well believe. Them Greeks andTurks were always fighting. My father was master's mate on board one ofthe three-deckers at the battle of Navarino--and that was when we wentto help those Greeks. But this affair about a woman was long before thattime."

  "I should think so," muttered Lingard, hanging over the rail, andwatching the fleeting gleams that passed deep down in the water, alongthe ship's bottom.

  "Yes. Times are changed. They were unenlightened in those old days. Mygrandfather was a preacher and, though my father served in the navy, Idon't hold with war. Sinful the old gentleman called it--and I think so,too. Unless with Chinamen, or niggers, or such people as must be kept inorder and won't listen to reason; having not sense enough to knowwhat's good for them, when it's explained to them by theirbetters--missionaries, and such like au-tho-ri-ties. But to fight tenyears. And for a woman!"

  "I have read the tale in a book," said Lingard, speaking down over theside as if setting his words gently afloat upon the sea. "I have readthe tale. She was very beautiful."

  "That only makes it worse, sir--if anything. You may depend on it shewas no good. Those pagan times will never come back, thank God. Tenyears of murder and unrighteousness! And for a woman! Would anybody doit now? Would you do it, sir? Would you--"

  The sound of a bell struck sharply interrupted Shaw's discourse. Highaloft, some dry block sent out a screech, short and lamentable, like acry of pain.
It pierced the quietness of the night to the very core, andseemed to destroy the reserve which it had imposed upon the tones of thetwo men, who spoke now loudly.

  "Throw the cover over the binnacle," said Lingard in his duty voice."The thing shines like a full moon. We mustn't show more lights than wecan help, when becalmed at night so near the land. No use in being seenif you can't see yourself--is there? Bear that in mind, Mr. Shaw. Theremay be some vagabonds prying about--"

  "I thought all this was over and done for," said Shaw, busying himselfwith the cover, "since Sir Thomas Cochrane swept along the Borneo coastwith his squadron some years ago. He did a rare lot of fighting--didn'the? We heard about it from the chaps of the sloop Diana that wasrefitting in Calcutta when I was there in the Warwick Castle. They tooksome king's town up a river hereabouts. The chaps were full of it."

  "Sir Thomas did good work," answered Lingard, "but it will be a longtime before these seas are as safe as the English Channel is in peacetime. I spoke about that light more to get you in the way of things tobe attended to in these seas than for anything else. Did you notice howfew native craft we've sighted for all these days we have been driftingabout--one may say--in this sea?"

  "I can't say I have attached any significance to the fact, sir."

  "It's a sign that something is up. Once set a rumour afloat in thesewaters, and it will make its way from island to island, without anybreeze to drive it along."

  "Being myself a deep-water man sailing steadily out of home ports nearlyall my life," said Shaw with great deliberation, "I cannot pretend tosee through the peculiarities of them out-of-the-way parts. But I cankeep a lookout in an ordinary way, and I have noticed that craft of anykind seemed scarce, for the last few days: considering that we had landaboard of us--one side or another--nearly every day."

  "You will get to know the peculiarities, as you call them, if you remainany time with me," remarked Lingard, negligently.

  "I hope I shall give satisfaction, whether the time be long or short!"said Shaw, accentuating the meaning of his words by the distinctnessof his utterance. "A man who has spent thirty-two years of his life onsaltwater can say no more. If being an officer of home ships for thelast fifteen years I don't understand the heathen ways of them theresavages, in matters of seamanship and duty, you will find me all there,Captain Lingard."

  "Except, judging from what you said a little while ago--except in thematter of fighting," said Lingard, with a short laugh.

  "Fighting! I am not aware that anybody wants to fight me. I am apeaceable man, Captain Lingard, but when put to it, I could fight aswell as any of them flat-nosed chaps we have to make shift with, insteadof a proper crew of decent Christians. Fighting!" he went on withunexpected pugnacity of tone, "Fighting! If anybody comes to fight me,he will find me all there, I swear!"

  "That's all right. That's all right," said Lingard, stretching his armsabove his head and wriggling his shoulders. "My word! I do wish a breezewould come to let us get away from here. I am rather in a hurry, Shaw."

  "Indeed, sir! Well, I never yet met a thorough seafaring man who was notin a hurry when a con-demned spell of calm had him by the heels. When abreeze comes . . . just listen to this, sir!"

  "I hear it," said Lingard. "Tide-rip, Shaw."

  "So I presume, sir. But what a fuss it makes. Seldom heard such a--"

  On the sea, upon the furthest limits of vision, appeared an advancingstreak of seething foam, resembling a narrow white ribbon, drawn rapidlyalong the level surface of the water by its two ends, which were lost inthe darkness. It reached the brig, passed under, stretching out on eachside; and on each side the water became noisy, breaking into numerousand tiny wavelets, a mimicry of an immense agitation. Yet the vessel inthe midst of this sudden and loud disturbance remained as motionless andsteady as if she had been securely moored between the stone walls of asafe dock. In a few moments the line of foam and ripple running swiftlynorth passed at once beyond sight and earshot, leaving no trace on theunconquerable calm.

  "Now this is very curious--" began Shaw.

  Lingard made a gesture to command silence. He seemed to listen yet, asif the wash of the ripple could have had an echo which he expected tohear. And a man's voice that was heard forward had something of theimpersonal ring of voices thrown back from hard and lofty cliffs uponthe empty distances of the sea. It spoke in Malay--faintly.

  "What?" hailed Shaw. "What is it?"

  Lingard put a restraining hand for a moment on his chief officer'sshoulder, and moved forward smartly. Shaw followed, puzzled. The rapidexchange of incomprehensible words thrown backward and forward throughthe shadows of the brig's main deck from his captain to the lookout manand back again, made him feel sadly out of it, somehow.

  Lingard had called out sharply--"What do you see?" The answer direct andquick was--"I hear, Tuan. I hear oars."

  "Whereabouts?"

  "The night is all around us. I hear them near."

  "Port or starboard?"

  There was a short delay in answer this time. On the quarter-deck,under the poop, bare feet shuffled. Somebody coughed. At last the voiceforward said doubtfully:

  "Kanan."

  "Call the serang, Mr. Shaw," said Lingard, calmly, "and have the handsturned up. They are all lying about the decks. Look sharp now. There'ssomething near us. It's annoying to be caught like this," he added in avexed tone.

  He crossed over to the starboard side, and stood listening, one handgrasping the royal back-stay, his ear turned to the sea, but he couldhear nothing from there. The quarter-deck was filled with subduedsounds. Suddenly, a long, shrill whistle soared, reverberated loudlyamongst the flat surfaces of motionless sails, and gradually grew faintas if the sound had escaped and gone away, running upon the water. HajiWasub was on deck and ready to carry out the white man's commands. Thensilence fell again on the brig, until Shaw spoke quietly.

  "I am going forward now, sir, with the tindal. We're all at stations."

  "Aye, Mr. Shaw. Very good. Mind they don't board you--but I can hearnothing. Not a sound. It can't be much."

  "The fellow has been dreaming, no doubt. I have good ears, too, and--"

  He went forward and the end of his sentence was lost in an indistinctgrowl. Lingard stood attentive. One by one the three seacannies off dutyappeared on the poop and busied themselves around a big chest that stoodby the side of the cabin companion. A rattle and clink of steel weaponsturned out on the deck was heard, but the men did not even whisper.Lingard peered steadily into the night, then shook his head.

  "Serang!" he called, half aloud.

  The spare old man ran up the ladder so smartly that his bony feet didnot seem to touch the steps. He stood by his commander, his hands behindhis back; a figure indistinct but straight as an arrow.

  "Who was looking out?" asked Lingard.

  "Badroon, the Bugis," said Wasub, in his crisp, jerky manner.

  "I can hear nothing. Badroon heard the noise in his mind."

  "The night hides the boat."

  "Have you seen it?"

  "Yes, Tuan. Small boat. Before sunset. By the land. Now cominghere--near. Badroon heard him."

  "Why didn't you report it, then?" asked Lingard, sharply.

  "Malim spoke. He said: 'Nothing there,' while I could see. How could Iknow what was in his mind or yours, Tuan?"

  "Do you hear anything now?"

  "No. They stopped now. Perhaps lost the ship--who knows? Perhapsafraid--"

  "Well!" muttered Lingard, moving his feet uneasily. "I believe you lie.What kind of boat?"

  "White men's boat. A four-men boat, I think. Small. Tuan, I hear himnow! There!"

  He stretched his arm straight out, pointing abeam for a time, then hisarm fell slowly.

  "Coming this way," he added with decision.

  From forward Shaw called out in a startled tone:

  "Something on the water, sir! Broad on this bow!"

  "All right!" called back Lingard.

  A lump of blacker darkness floated into his
view. From it came over thewater English words--deliberate, reaching him one by one; as if each hadmade its own difficult way through the profound stillness of the night.

  "What--ship--is--that--pray?"

  "English brig," answered Lingard, after a short moment of hesitation.

  "A brig! I thought you were something bigger," went on the voice fromthe sea with a tinge of disappointment in its deliberate tone. "I amcoming alongside--if--you--please."

  "No! you don't!" called Lingard back, sharply. The leisurely drawl ofthe invisible speaker seemed to him offensive, and woke up a hostilefeeling. "No! you don't if you care for your boat. Where do you springfrom? Who are you--anyhow? How many of you are there in that boat?"

  After these emphatic questions there was an interval of silence. Duringthat time the shape of the boat became a little more distinct. She musthave carried some way on her yet, for she loomed up bigger and nearlyabreast of where Lingard stood, before the self-possessed voice washeard again:

  "I will show you."

  Then, after another short pause, the voice said, less loud but veryplain:

  "Strike on the gunwale. Strike hard, John!" and suddenly a blue lightblazed out, illuminating with a livid flame a round patch in thenight. In the smoke and splutter of that ghastly halo appeared a white,four-oared gig with five men sitting in her in a row. Their heads wereturned toward the brig with a strong expression of curiosity on theirfaces, which, in this glare, brilliant and sinister, took on a deathlikeaspect and resembled the faces of interested corpses. Then the bowmandropped into the water the light he held above his head and thedarkness, rushing back at the boat, swallowed it with a loud and angryhiss.

  "Five of us," said the composed voice out of the night that seemed nowdarker than before. "Four hands and myself. We belong to a yacht--aBritish yacht--"

  "Come on board!" shouted Lingard. "Why didn't you speak at once? Ithought you might have been some masquerading Dutchmen from a dodginggunboat."

  "Do I speak like a blamed Dutchman? Pull a stroke, boys--oars! Tend bow,John."

  The boat came alongside with a gentle knock, and a man's shape began toclimb at once up the brig's side with a kind of ponderous agility. Itpoised itself for a moment on the rail to say down into the boat--"Sheeroff a little, boys," then jumped on deck with a thud, and said to Shawwho was coming aft: "Good evening . . . Captain, sir?"

  "No. On the poop!" growled Shaw.

  "Come up here. Come up," called Lingard, impatiently.

  The Malays had left their stations and stood clustered by the mainmastin a silent group. Not a word was spoken on the brig's decks, while thestranger made his way to the waiting captain. Lingard saw approachinghim a short, dapper man, who touched his cap and repeated his greetingin a cool drawl:

  "Good evening. . . Captain, sir?"

  "Yes, I am the master--what's the matter? Adrift from your ship? Orwhat?"

  "Adrift? No! We left her four days ago, and have been pulling that gigin a calm, nearly ever since. My men are done. So is the water. Luckything I sighted you."

  "You sighted me!" exclaimed Lingard. "When? What time?"

  "Not in the dark, you may be sure. We've been knocking about amongstsome islands to the southward, breaking our hearts tugging at the oarsin one channel, then in another--trying to get clear. We got round anislet--a barren thing, in shape like a loaf of sugar--and I caught sightof a vessel a long way off. I took her bearing in a hurry and we buckledto; but another of them currents must have had hold of us, for it was along time before we managed to clear that islet. I steered by thestars, and, by the Lord Harry, I began to think I had missed yousomehow--because it must have been you I saw."

  "Yes, it must have been. We had nothing in sight all day," assentedLingard. "Where's your vessel?" he asked, eagerly.

  "Hard and fast on middling soft mud--I should think about sixty milesfrom here. We are the second boat sent off for assistance. We partedcompany with the other on Tuesday. She must have passed to the northwardof you to-day. The chief officer is in her with orders to make forSingapore. I am second, and was sent off toward the Straits here on thechance of falling in with some ship. I have a letter from the owner. Ourgentry are tired of being stuck in the mud and wish for assistance."

  "What assistance did you expect to find down here?"

  "The letter will tell you that. May I ask, Captain, for a little waterfor the chaps in my boat? And I myself would thank you for a drink.We haven't had a mouthful since this afternoon. Our breaker leaked outsomehow."

  "See to it, Mr. Shaw," said Lingard. "Come down the cabin, Mr.--"

  "Carter is my name."

  "Ah! Mr. Carter. Come down, come down," went on Lingard, leading the waydown the cabin stairs.

  The steward had lighted the swinging lamp, and had put a decanter andbottles on the table. The cuddy looked cheerful, painted white, withgold mouldings round the panels. Opposite the curtained recess of thestern windows there was a sideboard with a marble top, and, above it,a looking-glass in a gilt frame. The semicircular couch round the sternhad cushions of crimson plush. The table was covered with a blackIndian tablecloth embroidered in vivid colours. Between the beams of thepoop-deck were fitted racks for muskets, the barrels of which glintedin the light. There were twenty-four of them between the four beams. Asmany sword-bayonets of an old pattern encircled the polished teakwood ofthe rudder-casing with a double belt of brass and steel. All the doorsof the state-rooms had been taken off the hinges and only curtainsclosed the doorways. They seemed to be made of yellow Chinese silk, andfluttered all together, the four of them, as the two men entered thecuddy.

  Carter took in all at a glance, but his eyes were arrested by a circularshield hung slanting above the brass hilts of the bayonets. On itsred field, in relief and brightly gilt, was represented a sheaf ofconventional thunderbolts darting down the middle between the twocapitals T. L. Lingard examined his guest curiously. He saw a youngman, but looking still more youthful, with a boyish smooth face muchsunburnt, twinkling blue eyes, fair hair and a slight moustache. Henoticed his arrested gaze.

  "Ah, you're looking at that thing. It's a present from the builder ofthis brig. The best man that ever launched a craft. It's supposed to bethe ship's name between my initials--flash of lightning--d'you see? Thebrig's name is Lightning and mine is Lingard."

  "Very pretty thing that: shows the cabin off well," murmured Carter,politely.

  They drank, nodding at each other, and sat down.

  "Now for the letter," said Lingard.

  Carter passed it over the table and looked about, while Lingard tookthe letter out of an open envelope, addressed to the commander of anyBritish ship in the Java Sea. The paper was thick, had an embossedheading: "Schooner-yacht Hermit" and was dated four days before. Themessage said that on a hazy night the yacht had gone ashore upon someoutlying shoals off the coast of Borneo. The land was low. The opinionof the sailing-master was that the vessel had gone ashore at the topof high water, spring tides. The coast was completely deserted to allappearance. During the four days they had been stranded there theyhad sighted in the distance two small native vessels, which didnot approach. The owner concluded by asking any commander of ahomeward-bound ship to report the yacht's position in Anjer on his waythrough Sunda Straits--or to any British or Dutch man-of-war he mightmeet. The letter ended by anticipatory thanks, the offer to pay anyexpenses in connection with the sending of messages from Anjer, and theusual polite expressions.

  Folding the paper slowly in the old creases, Lingard said--"I am notgoing to Anjer--nor anywhere near."

  "Any place will do, I fancy," said Carter.

  "Not the place where I am bound to," answered Lingard, opening theletter again and glancing at it uneasily. "He does not describe verywell the coast, and his latitude is very uncertain," he went on. "Iam not clear in my mind where exactly you are stranded. And yet I knowevery inch of that land--over there."

  Carter cleared his throat and began to talk in his slow drawl. He seemedto dole
out facts, to disclose with sparing words the features of thecoast, but every word showed the minuteness of his observation, theclear vision of a seaman able to master quickly the aspect of a strangeland and of a strange sea. He presented, with concise lucidity, thepicture of the tangle of reefs and sandbanks, through which the yachthad miraculously blundered in the dark before she took the ground.

  "The weather seems clear enough at sea," he observed, finally, andstopped to drink a long draught. Lingard, bending over the table, hadbeen listening with eager attention. Carter went on in his curt anddeliberate manner:

  "I noticed some high trees on what I take to be the mainland to thesouth--and whoever has business in that bight was smart enough towhitewash two of them: one on the point, and another farther in.Landmarks, I guess. . . . What's the matter, Captain?"

  Lingard had jumped to his feet, but Carter's exclamation caused him tosit down again.

  "Nothing, nothing . . . Tell me, how many men have you in that yacht?"

  "Twenty-three, besides the gentry, the owner, his wife and a Spanishgentleman--a friend they picked up in Manila."

  "So you were coming from Manila?"

  "Aye. Bound for Batavia. The owner wishes to study the Dutch colonialsystem. Wants to expose it, he says. One can't help hearing a lot whenkeeping watch aft--you know how it is. Then we are going to Ceylonto meet the mail-boat there. The owner is going home as he came out,overland through Egypt. The yacht would return round the Cape, ofcourse."

  "A lady?" said Lingard. "You say there is a lady on board. Are youarmed?"

  "Not much," replied Carter, negligently. "There are a few muskets andtwo sporting guns aft; that's about all--I fancy it's too much, or notenough," he added with a faint smile.

  Lingard looked at him narrowly.

  "Did you come out from home in that craft?" he asked.

  "Not I! I am not one of them regular yacht hands. I came out of thehospital in Hongkong. I've been two years on the China coast."

  He stopped, then added in an explanatory murmur:

  "Opium clippers--you know. Nothing of brass buttons about me. My shipleft me behind, and I was in want of work. I took this job but I didn'twant to go home particularly. It's slow work after sailing with oldRobinson in the Ly-e-moon. That was my ship. Heard of her, Captain?"

  "Yes, yes," said Lingard, hastily. "Look here, Mr. Carter, which way wasyour chief officer trying for Singapore? Through the Straits of Rhio?"

  "I suppose so," answered Carter in a slightly surprised tone; "why doyou ask?"

  "Just to know . . . What is it, Mr. Shaw?"

  "There's a black cloud rising to the northward, sir, and we shall get abreeze directly," said Shaw from the doorway.

  He lingered there with his eyes fixed on the decanters.

  "Will you have a glass?" said Lingard, leaving his seat. "I will go upand have a look."

  He went on deck. Shaw approached the table and began to help himself,handling the bottles in profound silence and with exaggerated caution,as if he had been measuring out of fragile vessels a dose of some deadlypoison. Carter, his hands in his pockets, and leaning back, examinedhim from head to foot with a cool stare. The mate of the brig raised theglass to his lips, and glaring above the rim at the stranger, drainedthe contents slowly.

  "You have a fine nose for finding ships in the dark, Mister," he said,distinctly, putting the glass on the table with extreme gentleness.

  "Eh? What's that? I sighted you just after sunset."

  "And you knew where to look, too," said Shaw, staring hard.

  "I looked to the westward where there was still some light, as anysensible man would do," retorted the other a little impatiently. "Whatare you trying to get at?"

  "And you have a ready tongue to blow about yourself--haven't you?"

  "Never saw such a man in my life," declared Carter, with a return of hisnonchalant manner. "You seem to be troubled about something."

  "I don't like boats to come sneaking up from nowhere in particular,alongside a ship when I am in charge of the deck. I can keep a lookoutas well as any man out of home ports, but I hate to be circumvented bymuffled oars and such ungentlemanlike tricks. Yacht officer--indeed.These seas must be full of such yachtsmen. I consider you played a meantrick on me. I told my old man there was nothing in sight at sunset--andno more there was. I believe you blundered upon us by chance--for allyour boasting about sunsets and bearings. Gammon! I know you cameon blindly on top of us, and with muffled oars, too. D'ye call thatdecent?"

  "If I did muffle the oars it was for a good reason. I wanted to slippast a cove where some native craft were moored. That was commonprudence in such a small boat, and not armed--as I am. I saw you rightenough, but I had no intention to startle anybody. Take my word for it."

  "I wish you had gone somewhere else," growled Shaw. "I hate to be put inthe wrong through accident and untruthfulness--there! Here's my old mancalling me--"

  He left the cabin hurriedly and soon afterward Lingard came down,and sat again facing Carter across the table. His face was grave butresolute.

  "We shall get the breeze directly," he said.

  "Then, sir," said Carter, getting up, "if you will give me back thatletter I shall go on cruising about here to speak some other ship. Itrust you will report us wherever you are going."

  "I am going to the yacht and I shall keep the letter," answered Lingardwith decision. "I know exactly where she is, and I must go to the rescueof those people. It's most fortunate you've fallen in with me, Mr.Carter. Fortunate for them and fortunate for me," he added in a lowertone.

  "Yes," drawled Carter, reflectively. "There may be a tidy bit of salvagemoney if you should get the vessel off, but I don't think you can domuch. I had better stay out here and try to speak some gunboat--"

  "You must come back to your ship with me," said Lingard,authoritatively. "Never mind the gunboats."

  "That wouldn't be carrying out my orders," argued Carter. "I've got tospeak a homeward-bound ship or a man-of-war--that's plain enough. I amnot anxious to knock about for days in an open boat, but--let me fill myfresh-water breaker, Captain, and I will be off."

  "Nonsense," said Lingard, sharply. "You've got to come with me to showthe place and--and help. I'll take your boat in tow."

  Carter did not seem convinced. Lingard laid a heavy hand on hisshoulder.

  "Look here, young fellow. I am Tom Lingard and there's not a white manamong these islands, and very few natives, that have not heard of me. Myluck brought you into my ship--and now I've got you, you must stay. Youmust!"

  The last "must" burst out loud and sharp like a pistol-shot. Carterstepped back.

  "Do you mean you would keep me by force?" he asked, startled.

  "Force," repeated Lingard. "It rests with you. I cannot let you speakany vessel. Your yacht has gone ashore in a most inconvenient place--forme; and with your boats sent off here and there, you would bring everyinfernal gunboat buzzing to a spot that was as quiet and retired as theheart of man could wish. You stranding just on that spot of the wholecoast was my bad luck. And that I could not help. You coming upon melike this is my good luck. And that I hold!"

  He dropped his clenched fist, big and muscular, in the light of thelamp on the black cloth, amongst the glitter of glasses, with the strongfingers closed tight upon the firm flesh of the palm. He left it therefor a moment as if showing Carter that luck he was going to hold. And hewent on:

  "Do you know into what hornet's nest your stupid people have blundered?How much d'ye think their lives are worth, just now? Not a brassfarthing if the breeze fails me for another twenty-four hours. You maywell open your eyes. It is so! And it may be too late now, while I amarguing with you here."

  He tapped the table with his knuckles, and the glasses, waking up,jingled a thin, plaintive finale to his speech. Carter stood leaningagainst the sideboard. He was amazed by the unexpected turn of theconversation; his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes never swerved for amoment from Lingard's face. The silence in the cabin last
ed only a fewseconds, but to Carter, who waited breathlessly, it seemed very long.And all at once he heard in it, for the first time, the cabin clock tickdistinctly, in pulsating beats, as though a little heart of metal behindthe dial had been started into sudden palpitation.

  "A gunboat!" shouted Lingard, suddenly, as if he had seen only inthat moment, by the light of some vivid flash of thought, all thedifficulties of the situation. "If you don't go back with me there willbe nothing left for you to go back to--very soon. Your gunboat won'tfind a single ship's rib or a single corpse left for a landmark. Thatshe won't. It isn't a gunboat skipper you want. I am the man youwant. You don't know your luck when you see it, but I know mine, Ido--and--look here--"

  He touched Carter's chest with his forefinger, and said with a suddengentleness of tone:

  "I am a white man inside and out; I won't let inoffensive people--and awoman, too--come to harm if I can help it. And if I can't help, nobodycan. You understand--nobody! There's no time for it. But I am like anyother man that is worth his salt: I won't let the end of an undertakinggo by the board while there is a chance to hold on--and it's likethis--"

  His voice was persuasive--almost caressing; he had hold now of a coatbutton and tugged at it slightly as he went on in a confidential manner:

  "As it turns out, Mr. Carter, I would--in a manner of speaking--I wouldas soon shoot you where you stand as let you go to raise an alarmall over this sea about your confounded yacht. I have other lives toconsider--and friends--and promises--and--and myself, too. I shall keepyou," he concluded, sharply.

  Carter drew a long breath. On the deck above, the two men couldhear soft footfalls, short murmurs, indistinct words spoken near theskylight. Shaw's voice rang out loudly in growling tones:

  "Furl the royals, you tindal!"

  "It's the queerest old go," muttered Carter, looking down on to thefloor. "You are a strange man. I suppose I must believe what yousay--unless you and that fat mate of yours are a couple of escapedlunatics that got hold of a brig by some means. Why, that chap up therewanted to pick a quarrel with me for coming aboard, and now you threatento shoot me rather than let me go. Not that I care much about that; forsome time or other you would get hanged for it; and you don't look likea man that will end that way. If what you say is only half true, I oughtto get back to the yacht as quick as ever I can. It strikes me that yourcoming to them will be only a small mercy, anyhow--and I may be of someuse--But this is the queerest. . . . May I go in my boat?"

  "As you like," said Lingard. "There's a rain squall coming."

  "I am in charge and will get wet along of my chaps. Give us a good longline, Captain."

  "It's done already," said Lingard. "You seem a sensible sailorman andcan see that it would be useless to try and give me the slip."

  "For a man so ready to shoot, you seem very trustful," drawled Carter."If I cut adrift in a squall, I stand a pretty fair chance not to seeyou again."

  "You just try," said Lingard, drily. "I have eyes in this brig, youngman, that will see your boat when you couldn't see the ship. You are ofthe kind I like, but if you monkey with me I will find you--and when Ifind you I will run you down as surely as I stand here."

  Carter slapped his thigh and his eyes twinkled.

  "By the Lord Harry!" he cried. "If it wasn't for the men with me, Iwould try for sport. You are so cocksure about the lot you can do,Captain. You would aggravate a saint into open mutiny."

  His easy good humour had returned; but after a short burst of laughter,he became serious.

  "Never fear," he said, "I won't slip away. If there is to be anythroat-cutting--as you seem to hint--mine will be there, too, I promiseyou, and. . . ."

  He stretched his arms out, glanced at them, shook them a little.

  "And this pair of arms to take care of it," he added, in his old,careless drawl.

  But the master of the brig sitting with both his elbows on the table,his face in his hands, had fallen unexpectedly into a meditation soconcentrated and so profound that he seemed neither to hear, see, norbreathe. The sight of that man's complete absorption in thought was toCarter almost more surprising than any other occurrence of that night.Had his strange host vanished suddenly from before his eyes, it couldnot have made him feel more uncomfortably alone in that cabin wherethe pertinacious clock kept ticking off the useless minutes of the calmbefore it would, with the same steady beat, begin to measure the aimlessdisturbance of the storm.