The tortuous1, narrow and even precipitous passage, winding2 nearly two miles amid the rocks, lay behind, and now the good ship Pelican3 was swinging to her anchor in front of the little town hardly more than a village. In the little bight was no other large craft, although several fishing boats were rocking to their moorings.
The Arctic summer, intense and vivid as though to make up for its brief duration, was at an end. None the less, the breeze from the shore carried a sweet fragrance4 of flowers, the little town was still radiant with blossoming gardens, and all over the hills which lay banked around the town there were patches of gay flowers and the deep lush green of rank grasses.
With great care Miles Hathaway and his wheeled chair were lowered into a boat. Tom Dennis and Florence followed, together with Captain Pontifex, who had proffered5 his services in securing a place of abode6 for Florence and her father. Once upon the dock, Dennis took charge of the chair, and all three started up-town, Pontifex carrying Dennis' big suitcase.
"Feels good to have the solid earth underfoot again," said Dennis. "How long do you expect to lay up here, Skipper?"
"We'll go out with the tide to-night," returned Pontifex. "I expect to pick up a cook here, who was to reach Unalaska by one of the island steamers, and I want to get our mail and papers. If we can get Mrs. Dennis comfortably berthed7 this afternoon, there'll be nothing to detain us, beyond standing8 off her trunk."
"Besides," he added in a lowered voice, "I'm anxious not to let the news slip out of what we're after. Before we could get clear of the island we'd have schooners10 dogging us. In case Mrs. Dennis would like any ready money——"
"Thank you, Captain, I need nothing," said Florence quietly.
Little Jerry had not been allowed to come ashore11, much to the disappointment of Florence, who had been bent12 upon rescuing the lad. Dennis, however, had already formulated13 a plan of action, largely because he considered that the boy's testimony14 would be of tremendous weight in backing up Florence when she interviewed the authorities.
An hour later, with the afternoon half gone, Florence and Captain Hathaway were snugly15 ensconced as paying guests in a cottage not far behind the ancient Greek church. Captain Pontifex had departed on his own business.
"Dear, are you sure?" In the security of her hired room, with the immobile Miles Hathaway watching them from his chair, Florence sought the gaze of Tom Dennis. To him it seemed that her eye held a glowing probe of fire, searching his very soul.
"Remember, Tom dear, that I mustn't lose you. You're my one sure strong anchor in the world; your love and you are necessary to me," she said steadily16. "So are you sure? Are you sure that the best plan would not be to stop here ashore and have Pontifex placed under restraint—here and now?
"Are you sure that we had not best let the thought of money and salvage17 go for the present, placing our own lives and safety first of all? Are you sure you can come back to me, my dear?"
"Dear wife, I am sure," said Dennis simply. "I shall play the game safely, letting them suspect nothing of what I know, and before any crisis occurs you will have acted. Two weeks—remember!"
"And you think Pontifex will suspect nothing if Jerry disappears to-night?"
"He would not consent to leave you and your father here together, knowing that you can communicate, if he suspected anything. He will think that Jerry has run away, and will doubtless figure on picking up the boy when he returns—he'll be too anxious to reach the John Simpson to bother about suspicions. It has not occurred to him that you would ask your father any questions out of the ordinary, and certainly your father cannot tell anything of what has happened unless asked. You have the phonograph and records in that valise, so go ahead and don't worry about me, dear. I'll play my part."
"Agreed, dear." She leaned forward and held up her face to his. "Then let's leave father here, and go out to see the town; we'll spend our last hours together, before you go, and you can arrange about poor little Jerry."
An hour afterward19, a grizzled old fisherman was listening to Tom Dennis and shaking his head in stubborn negation20.
"Not me, sir!" he affirmed with emphasis. "I dassn't run around the harbour without no light——"
"But your lantern might go out for five minutes!"
"Not mine, sir. Besides, helpin' a feller escape from a whaler ain't no jokin' matter! Fact it ain't. I'd like to earn the money all right, but I dassn't buck21 up ag'in the law."
Florence gave her husband a meaning glance.
"Tom, please let me speak to him in private a moment!"
Shrugging his shoulders, Dennis walked away. As he strode up and down, he saw that Florence was speaking very earnestly, and that the grizzled fisherman seemed very uneasy. But presently the fisherman grinned and nodded, shaking hands with Florence. He had agreed.
"What on earth did you say to him?" demanded Dennis, as they were walking away.
"Oh, I made it clear that he'd be doing a good deed—that's all." A ripple22 of laughter danced like sunlight across her face. "Why, from what you said, the poor man thought he would be compounding a felony!"
Dennis chuckled23. "I guess a man would be willing to compound anything, if you'd smile at him and beg him to do it! Well, you're right about the good-deed part of it, and I'm glad it's settled. Let's look up some supper ashore; then I'll go aboard ship."
The skipper had promised to send a boat ashore for Dennis; so, when darkness was beginning to fall, he hailed the brigantine from the dock, Florence at his side. Five minutes later a whaleboat was pulling in, with Ericksen in the stern.
"Good-bye, my dear, and God bring you back safely," said Florence softly, as she kissed him good-bye.
Dennis answered with a reassuring24 smile. "You've got my little flash-light, haven't you?"
"Everything as planned, my heart. Good-bye!"
Dennis climbed down into the boat which swept around and headed back to the brig. Florence stood on the dock, watching. She exchanged a final wave of the hand before the boat swept out of sight under the counter of the Pelican; then she turned and slowly walked in to the shore.
There, however, she remained, in the shadow of the long warehouses25 already piled high with bone from other whaling ships. Darkness closed down upon the bay, and the lights of the little town began to glimmer26 and gleam under the hills. Out on the water the lamps of the Pelican showed red and white in the gloom.
Had the cook, Frenchy, come aboard? Florence did not know. She knew that Tom Dennis was there, among men who indubitably meant him no good; whether his would-be assassin had reached Unalaska in time to join the ship, she knew not. She waited, shivering a little, until by degrees the red side-light vanished. Presently the lights showed green and white—and she knew that the tide was on the ebb27, that the ship had swung about to her cable. There was a light breeze, but strong enough to carry the brig to sea.
Suddenly a flare28 lighted up the forward deck of the whaler. The voice of Bo'sun Joe drifted over the water with strange sweetness, joined by the voices of other men and interjected by the guttural utterances29 of Kanakas trying to keep tune30; while the clicking pawls and the slowly shifting lights betrayed that the anchor was coming up:
"We cracked it on, on a big skiute,
To me hoodah, to me hoodah!
We cracked it on, on a big skiute,
For California oh!
There's plenty of gold
As I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacramento-o!"
Meantime, the capstan chantey was being drowned by other voices—the steely ring of Pontifex, the roar of Manuel Mendez, the shriller tones of Corny and others as orders were repeated and the topsails were set. The confusion of voices became more pronounced.
"Aye, sir!"
"Head-sails and spanker ready sir," came the voice of Leman. "Anchor a-trip!"
"Brace round them head-yards! Cat your hook and shake out those courses! ... Aft with that sheet, now. Shake a leg! ... Bo'sun, haul out that bowline!"
"Aye, sir! Haul out the bowline!"
Haul upon the bowline, Kitty lives at Liverpool,
Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul!
Haul upon the bowline, Kitty lives at Liverpool,
Haul on the bowline, the bowline haul!
Breathless, Florence watched and listened. Would Tom succeed without trouble? Would the plan, dangerous at best, succeed in getting little Jerry safe ashore? The ship's lights were slowly moving now, moving toward the entrance of that winding, precipitous passage. Captain Pontifex was in charge himself, for the passage demanded sharp tacking35 and skilful36 handling; his steely voice carried back across the light wind, across the silence of the northern night. Florence strained her eyes into the darkness. The time was at hand, now.
"Ready about! Down your helm, there! Hard-a-lee!" Florence could picture the big spanker-boom hauled in, the head-sheets slackening off; the lights showed that the brig was coming up into the wind, "Tacks37 and sheets! Maintops'l haul! Round with them after-yards, there! Fore9-bowline, let go an' haul!"
Not ten minutes were consumed in the manoeuvre38, for the Pelican was smartly handled. To the watching Florence, however, that ten minutes seemed an eternity39. The voices lessened40 in the distance; the whaler's lights became tiny glimmering41 points as she slowly slid away and was gone.
Suddenly, down on the surface of the water, appeared a tiny pin-point—a flash of light that was gone instantly. It flashed again, and again vanished. From the watching girl came a deep breath—a sigh of almost agonized42 relief, as the tension which was holding her was swiftly relaxed.
After this, nothing. The Pelican was gone in the winding channel, although snatches of song drifted back as Bo'sun Joe led the chanteys that fetched her about on new tacks. Over the water lay darkness and silence; from somewhere back in the town a tiny phonograph lifted a tinkling43 piece of band music into the night.
Florence walked out upon the dock, still trembling beneath the nervous strain of those moments. Five minutes passed—five intolerable dragging minutes. Then from the water she caught the drip and splash of muffled44 oars45, and she called out softly.
"All right, ma'am!" came the hoarse46 response. A dim shadow loomed47 up, and the voice of the grizzled fisherman continued: "Thought better not to show no light at all, ma'am. Ain't so likely to get questions asked——"
"You got him?"
"Aye. Can you give him a hand, ma'am? The lad's mortal cold——"
Florence leaned down and gripped an icy hand.
"Golly, I sure thought my legs was froze!" came the chattering48 voice of Jerry. With all her surprising strength, the girl heaved; and he came up beside her. "Scared stiff, I was!"
"They've gone." Florence turned and took the horny hand of the fisherman. "Thank you," she said simply. "I think Mr. Dennis wanted me to give you this——"
"Sho', ma'am, I don't want no money for that!" protested the other. But Florence forced the money upon him, and, with a last handshake, urged Jerry away toward warmth and dry clothes.
By this time the boy's teeth were chattering so that talk was impossible. Upon reaching her own cottage, where Florence had already engaged a room for Jerry, she gave him a spare suit of old clothes which Dennis had left for him, and left him to change.
"Be quick!" she exclaimed, as she departed. "I want to know all about it!"
Ten minutes later, partially50 warmed and clad in dry clothes, Jerry, moon-faced and sheepish, stumbled into the room where Florence sat beside her immobile father. The eyes of Captain Miles Hathaway dwelt upon Jerry.
"Come here by the fire." Florence set him in a chair beside the oil-stove that warmed the room. "Now, tell me! Did everything go all right?"
"Yes'm, I guess so." Jerry grinned. "That is, far's I know it did, for me. You see, Mr. Dennis, he told me what to do. So just 'fore they called all hands, I messed things up in the galley51 consid'able, and the new cook——"
"The new cook came, then?" interjected Florence, a little pale.
"Yes'm. Frenchy, they called him. So him and the steward52 tailed on the lines, with the rest, and the Missus, she was mad as an ol' cat about the galley bein' messed up, and so she come to 'tend to it, and I slipped down into the cabins and met Mr. Dennis. He had the stern window open, and he give me that electric lamp and a life-buoy what he'd snaked down from the stern-rail after dark.
"So I got the life-belt 'round me an' clumb out the window and hung on the line that Mr. Dennis had made fast, and waited till he give me the word. Golly, I was scared! The skipper, he was right up there over my head, and he was talkin' with Frenchy, and he says: 'There's no call for you to get mad, Dumont. You get rid of her husband first like you'd ought to of done back in Chicago.' And Frenchy, he says, 'Where is he?' The skipper, he says, 'Down below I guess, but don't do nothin' now because I figger on sending him down in a divin'-suit when we get started to work.' Then they both laughed, and just then Mr. Dennis, he give me the word to swing off——"
"Had he heard them talking?" demanded Florence, white-lipped.
"Naw. He didn't know they was talking up there at all; he'd been standin' back from the window a piece, I guess. I was scared they'd hear him give me the word, but they didn't. So I slid down into the water and the ol' ship walked right away and nobody seen me. Tell you what, it was cold! I flashed the light a couple o' times, then the old guy give me a hail and come alongside and took me in. Golly, but I was glad!"
Florence sat motionless, a deathly pallor upon her face. In the boy's report she glimpsed utter and horrible destruction of all the plans which she and Tom Dennis had built up. The whole ghastly truth had flashed upon her, through the words of Pontifex which Jerry had overheard—and which Dennis had not overheard.
They would send Tom down in a diving-suit; and no one could tell what had happened under the sea in the green depths! Florence knew that she would not dare to put through her share of the scheme, after this. She might succeed, but only after Tom Dennis had perished.
"Go along to bed, Jerry," she muttered, her lips white. The boy looked at her, and with fear upon his face, rose. He stumbled away and was gone.
Florence met the motionless dead gaze of her father.
"You know what it means, father?" she said, her voice lifeless. "It means that they'll murder him! If I stop here, he'll be lost! We can't get the revenue cutter here before another week, because the wireless53 station is closed down—the operator's sick. We found that out this afternoon. And, father, Tom matters more to me than—than anything else!"
The eyes of her father slowly moved. "Yes!"
"No time for the phonograph now; I'll have to give up our whole scheme of action." Florence drew a deep breath. "I'll have to warn Tom, father; the only way to warn him will be to follow the Pelican and—and do it openly. I know where the wreck54 lies.
"That fisherman who brought in Jerry—I know where he lives. His boat has a motor, and he says he often cruises among the islands. I think he'll take me. Anyway, there's no larger boat here than his. I must see him to-night, at once, and arrange to get off in the morning. I'll see the authorities, explain about the phonograph, and you can tell them all about it while I'm gone. Perhaps they can get help to us. If that fisherman will take me, maybe we can get Tom away before——"
She broke into low sobs55. She could see only disaster ahead—and duty to the man whom she loved. Suddenly she leaned forward, caught her father's lifeless hand.
"Father! You know all about this place, and everything! Tell me! Is there anything else I can do? If there is, I'll get out the phonograph now. Is there?"
Slowly the lids of Miles Hathaway moved twice. "No."
"And you think I'm right to go? It's the only thing to do? We'll lose everything, for Pontifex will loot the wreck and be gone before we could get back here and have the cutter after him. But isn't it the only thing to do?"
"Yes," said the eyes of Miles Hathaway.
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1
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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pelican
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| n.鹈鹕，伽蓝鸟 | |
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fragrance
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| n.芬芳，香味，香气 | |
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5
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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6
abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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berthed
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| v.停泊( berth的过去式和过去分词 )；占铺位 | |
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8
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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9
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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10
schooners
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| n.（有两个以上桅杆的）纵帆船( schooner的名词复数 ) | |
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11
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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12
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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13
formulated
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| v.构想出( formulate的过去式和过去分词 )；规划；确切地阐述；用公式表示 | |
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14
testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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15
snugly
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| adv.紧贴地；贴身地；暖和舒适地；安适地 | |
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16
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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17
salvage
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| v.救助，营救，援救；n.救助，营救 | |
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18
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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19
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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negation
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| n.否定；否认 | |
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21
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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22
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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23
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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warehouses
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| 仓库，货栈( warehouse的名词复数 ) | |
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glimmer
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| v.发出闪烁的微光；n.微光，微弱的闪光 | |
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ebb
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| vi.衰退，减退；n.处于低潮，处于衰退状态 | |
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28
flare
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| v.闪耀，闪烁；n.潮红；突发 | |
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utterances
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| n.发声( utterance的名词复数 )；说话方式；语调；言论 | |
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30
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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31
hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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32
bullies
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| n.欺凌弱小者, 开球 vt.恐吓, 威胁, 欺负 | |
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33
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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34
medley
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| n.混合 | |
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tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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tacks
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| 大头钉( tack的名词复数 )； 平头钉； 航向； 方法 | |
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38
manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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39
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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40
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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41
glimmering
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| n.微光，隐约的一瞥adj.薄弱地发光的v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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42
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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43
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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44
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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45
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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46
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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47
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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48
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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49
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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50
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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51
galley
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| n.（飞机或船上的）厨房单层甲板大帆船；军舰舰长用的大划艇； | |
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52
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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53
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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54
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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55
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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