“Dar’s a gemman here, Marse Cap’n, dat wants tuh come on bo’d,” answered the voice of Sambo.
“Who is he?”
Here another form pushed forward and another voice took up the conversation.
“Are you Bob Steele?” asked the voice.
“Yes.”
“You have charge of the submarine while Captain Nemo, junior, is sick?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re the person I wish to talk with. I am Don Ramon Ortega.”
Bob was deeply impressed by the name. Everybody in Belize had a good word to say for Don Ramon Ortega, the Spanish consul1. He was a chivalrous2 gentleman of the old school, a friend of the United States when many other of his countrymen cherished a grudge3 against the country, and a philanthropic and kindly4 man in all his dealings.
“I shall be very glad to have you come aboard, Don Ortega,” called Bob respectfully, “but it is against our rules to allow more than one stranger aboard the Grampus at any one time.”
“Then I will come alone.”
Bob and Dick got out of the tower and each hurled5 a rope to those forward and aft on the sailboat. After the two boats had been hauled as close together as possible, a plank6 was shoved over the side of the sailboat126 and left with its outer end resting on the rounded deck of the submarine. Don Ramon turned and handed something to Sambo.
“Haul off,” said he, “and wait until you receive a signal from me. If you don’t receive a signal, put back to the landing.”
“All right, boss.”
Bob was a little surprised at this order, but presumed that he would soon be told why it had been given. Reaching out, he caught the don’s hand and helped him off the end of the plank.
“I must speak with you immediately,” said the don. “Can we go somewhere for a little private talk?”
“Certainly,” answered Bob, his wonder continuing to grow.
The don carried a canvas bag whose contents jingled7 musically with every movement. While Bob and Dick escorted their caller below, those on the sailboat hauled in the plank and stood off toward the shore.
Speake, Gaines, and Clackett were still busy stowing the supplies and getting the Grampus shipshape below decks. The two boys and their guest made themselves comfortable in the periscope8 room.
Don Ramon, as Bob looked at him now for the first time, had the appearance of a courtly gentleman. He was swarthy, well dressed, and his dark eyes, as they stared about him curiously9, looked like points of polished jet.
The don took a cardcase from his pocket and extracted a square of pasteboard bearing the coat of arms of his native country, his name and the information that he was Spanish consul at Belize. He handed the card to Bob, who, in turn, passed it along to Dick.
“We have heard a good deal about you, don,” remarked Bob, “but this is the first time we have ever met.”
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“And I have heard much about you,” was the answer, in most gracious tones; “very much to your credit. The recent performance of the Grampus made a deep impression upon me, and that is why I am here to-night. If you wish, you can render a great service to the cause of right and justice; possibly it hangs upon you to terminate the uprising in the unhappy little republic that lies to the south.”
Bob and Dick were all interest on the moment.
“What do you mean, don?” asked Bob.
“Pitou and his rebels have captured Port Livingstone and the fort on the headland across the river from the town. Every inch of the coast is guarded. The loyal army is marching from the Pacific side of the republic—very few in numbers and poorly armed. Pitou, the great rogue10, has laid a trap for the loyalists. Unless General Mendez, in charge of the loyal troops, is communicated with to-morrow morning, there will be fighting and bloodshed, and perhaps the insurrectionists will win.”
Bob and Dick were following the don closely, wondering what he was driving at.
“Of course,” the don resumed, after a brief silence, “as Spanish consul, I am not warranted in mixing in the imbroglio11. Whatever I do, I do in a private capacity, and merely as a preserver of peace. However, it is well known that the insurrection, headed by this soldier of fortune, Pitou, is merely for the sake of gain. If successful, Pitou and Fingal would get a grip on the throat of the little republic, and lawlessness would reign12. You know something about Pitou and Fingal and their base methods and designs. Therefore, I come to you.”
“Why do you come to me?” inquired Bob.
“Why, with the submarine you could pass the mouth128 of the Izaral under water and unseen by the rebels; you could continue up the Izaral, still below the surface, to the place where the Purgatoire enters the stream. From that point I could communicate with General Mendez and warn him of the trap that has been laid by Pitou. The general could save his army—and the fate of the republic hangs on General Mendez. Will you do this? Will you assist Don Ramon Ortega in such a humanitarian13 work?”
Bob was dazed by the proposition.
“You,” pursued the don passionately14, “come from a great and rich country, where there is always peace. Then have you got it in your heart to withhold15 a helping16 hand from a smaller and war-harried little country whose fate may hang upon your decision? See?”
The don pulled a stool in front of him, untied17 the canvas sack and spilled a heap of golden sovereigns out of it.
“Here are fifty pieces of gold, Bob Steele,” he went on, “and, if we are successful in passing the revolutionists and getting word to General Mendez, you shall have one thousand more. Will you do this for me, Don Ramon Ortega? Will you do it for humanity? I do not appeal to your wish for gain—you are above such sordid18 things—but I ask you in the name of right and justice! Lives, human lives, depend on you! The fate of a republic depends on you! As for the risk to you and the submarine—bah!” The don shrugged19 his shoulders contemptuously. “Am I not going with you? Would I endanger my own life?”
The don paused anxiously for reply. Dick peered at his friend reflectively. Speake, Clackett, and Gaines, having finished their work below, had come to the periscope room and were standing20 in one of the bulkhead doors. They had heard the don’s proposi129tion, and the gold was sparkling its lure21 in their greedy eyes.
“I am sorry, don,” said Bob, with a note of deep regret in his voice, “but I have not the authority to let you have the Grampus for any such work.”
“You are the captain?”
“I am in charge of the boat while her captain is sick. You should take your proposition to Captain Nemo, junior.”
“I went to see him, but the doctor refused to let me in. The doctor said the captain was unable to talk with anybody. So I came to you.”
“I haven’t the authority, don,” repeated Bob firmly. “Wait until the captain is able to talk business. I can’t risk the boat.”
“There is no risk!”
“Perhaps not; but I have no more right to take this boat out of the harbor, don, than you have.”
The don passed his dejected glance from Bob to Dick, and then toward the three faces in the narrow doorway22.
Gaines pushed forward.
“Bob,” said he, “I think you might stretch a point. Them golden sovs look mighty23 fine to me. There’s two hundred an’ fifty dollars’ worth there, and we’re promised five thousand dollars’ worth more. Cap’n Nemo, junior, if he was able, would tell us to go ahead an’ capture the prize money. I move we hook up with the don.”
“Might jest as well turn a few honest dollars, Bob,” put in Speake, “as to be layin’ idle here, off Belize.”
“My idee, exactly,” said Clackett. “I know the cap’n would do it if he was able to hear the don’s proposition.”
“Why not?” said Dick, in a low tone.
Bob shook his head decidedly.
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“I’d go in a minute if I had the right to do so,” said he, “but I haven’t. Suppose the Seminole should put into the harbor to-night with orders for the Grampus? You know what it would mean, Dick.”
Dick was silent, but not convinced. The men were disappointed, and watched the don as he shoved the gold coins back into the bag.
“I am sorry, too,” said he, tying up the bag, “and I feel, Bob Steele, that you are letting a lot of useless red tape interfere24 with your duties to humanity.”
“Perhaps, don, I merely understand my duty better than you do,” answered Bob, respectfully but firmly. “I haven’t any love for Pitou, or Fingal, or the rascally25 revolutionists, and I promise you this, that I will see Captain Nemo, junior, personally in the morning, and, if the doctor will let me, will put your proposition before him. If he agrees, we will start for the south at once.”
“That will be too late,” said the don, getting up and taking his bag of sovereigns. “I will bid you good evening, hail my boat, and go ashore26,” he added stiffly.
With chilly27 dignity he climbed the conning-tower ladder and hailed the sailboat. Bob, Dick, and the others saw him safely aboard and the boat headed shoreward; then again went below.
“I’m tired,” announced Bob, cutting short a further discussion of the don and his proposition, “and I’m going to bed. You and Clackett, Gaines, will have the anchor watch till midnight. After that, call Dick and me.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Gaines.
Dick accompanied Bob to a room abaft28 the periscope chamber29, in which a couple of cots had been set up, and silently the two chums turned in. Nothing more was said about going ashore to interrupt Carl’s sere131nade. Bob knew that Dick thought he should have accepted the don’s proposition, and yet, feeling that he was in the right, did not care to discuss the matter. With a hearty30 good night to Dick, he turned over and went to sleep.
How long Bob slept he did not know, but he was awakened31 by the throb32 of a motor and started bolt upright in his bed.
The Grampus was moving! The roll of the craft proved that she was on the surface and under way. All was dark in the little steel room, and Bob got up and groped for the switch that turned on the incandescent33 light. A moment later there was a dazzling glow, and Bob looked at the bulkhead doors. They had been open when he and Dick retired34, and now they were closed!
He started for the door leading to the periscope room. Just as he laid his hand on it, Dick roused up.
“We are,” answered Bob grimly.
“Who’s in charge, and where are we going?”
“Give it up! All I know is that we’re locked in.” Then he began shaking the steel door and kicking against it. “Gaines!” he yelled.
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收听单词发音
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1
consul
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| n.领事；执政官 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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6
plank
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| n.板条，木板，政策要点，政纲条目 | |
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jingled
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| 喝醉的 | |
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periscope
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| n. 潜望镜 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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imbroglio
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| n.纷乱，纠葛，纷扰，一团糟 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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humanitarian
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| n.人道主义者，博爱者，基督凡人论者 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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15
withhold
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| v.拒绝，不给；使停止，阻挡 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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untied
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| 松开，解开( untie的过去式和过去分词 )； 解除，使自由； 解决 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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rascally
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| adj. 无赖的，恶棍的 adv. 无赖地，卑鄙地 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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abaft
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| prep.在…之后；adv.在船尾，向船尾 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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31
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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incandescent
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| adj.遇热发光的， 白炽的，感情强烈的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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