Long Live the King - Guy Boothby (iphone ebook reader TXT) 📗

proud. The fingers of the former, which were dirty, were invariably ornamented with rings.

The captain, who, as I have already said, had laid himself out to be agreeable to Max, found an occasion to invite him to the chart-room alone. Once there he spoke his mind freely and to the point.

"I want to give you a hint, Mr. Mortimer," he said, for that was the name Max had assumed. "I must put you on your guard against our friend Moreas."

"I am exceedingly obliged to you for the trouble you are taking," Max returned, as he seated himself on the chart locker. "What has he done that you should warn me against him?"

The captain sank his voice a little as he replied.

"I have known him for a good many years. He is a notorious gambler, and, as far as my observation goes, I can say that I have seen him win a good deal oftener than he loses. When I say that he is a dead shot with a revolver, and that he is not above calling a man out and putting a bullet into him before breakfast, you will understand that I've gone out of my way to tell you something that might land me in difficulties if he came to know of it."

"I am obliged to you," said Max. "You may be quite sure I shall respect your confidence. I will be on my guard for the future."

"I'm glad to hear it," the captain replied and added: "I've noticed that you've been playing cards with him lately."

Max admitted the soft impeachment. He might have added that he had lost more than he cared to remember. He felt certain in his own mind, however, that Moreas had obtained the money honestly, and in common fairness he felt compelled to say so to the captain.

"I don't doubt it," the other answered. "He is not such a fool as to try anything else while it is possible for him to get it by straightforward play. But if you must play with him I should advise you to keep your eyes and wits open. It is not in my interest to say so, for if you find him out you will come to quarrelling, and then possibly to blows, and at that point it will be my duty to step in. But I don't want to have to do it. As a rule, we carry very few passengers on this boat, but I can tell you that I have seen some funny scenes on board her now and again, and Moreas has figured conspicuously in more than one of them."

As it transpired, the captain's warning reached Max just in time. Another day and it might have been too late. The incident I am about to relate took place on a warm morning. They were nearing the Equator, and Max was stretched on the poop skylight, reading, when Moreas made his appearance. The latter offered him an excellent cigar, and after they had been smoking for a time proposed a game of ecarte. Max, who, I regret to say, was an inveterate gambler, immediately assented, not, however, without thinking of the captain's warning. His companion immediately produced a pack of cards. The steward, on being appealed to, brought a small folding table from below, whereupon the game commenced. For some time they played with varying success, then Max, contrary to custom, began to win. They doubled the stakes and played again. Once more Max won. They played another hand, still with the same result. An ominous look flashed into Moreas' eyes, but it was gone again as quickly.

"I am glad to see that your luck has turned at last, Senor," he said, with a suspicion of a sneer about his lips.

"Fortune must smile some time or other," retorted Max coolly. "It would be hard indeed if I were always to have the same luck that I've had of late. It is your deal, I fancy."

Moreas accordingly dealt, and they played the next hand. Suddenly Max laid down his cards, back uppermost, and leant across the table.

"Forgive me, Senor," he said, "but I feel sure there is some little mistake. We have played two rounds, and I see that you still have four cards in your hand."

The remainder of the pack was lying at the Spaniard's elbow, and Max noticed a suspicious movement of the other's sleeve a few seconds before. Had he not spoken when he did, the other would have rid himself of one of his cards without delay.

"Carambo! so I have," he said, with a well-simulated astonishment. "I must offer you ten thousand apologies, Senor, for having unwittingly made such a mistake. I do not know how it occurred."

As he said this he fixed his beady eyes upon Max's face, as though to give him warning that if he had anything to say on the subject it had better be of a conciliatory nature.

"I feel sure of that," Max answered good-humouredly, for he had not the least intention of quarrelling with him. He only wanted to let the other see that he was quite aware of his man[oe]uvres, and that they must not be attempted in the future. "Are you tired or shall we play another hand?"

"I think a little rest, Senor, would be acceptable," Moreas responded. "It is so hot under this awning. I will ask you for my revenge another time."

With that he rose and lit a fresh cigar. Going to the companion hatch, he called to the steward to bring a couple of bottles of beer and some glasses on deck. When these arrived, he insisted that Max and the captain, who had just arrived on the poop, should join him. To all appearances he was as calm and as friendly as usual, but there was still a gleam in his eyes that spoke for the smouldering fire in the brain behind.

"It is too hot," he said, spreading his arms abroad. "How shall we amuse ourselves? We have read, we have played, and now we have drunk beer. What else is there for us to do?"

Then, as if an idea had struck him, he continued:

"I wonder if our good friend, the captain, here, would permit us to have some pistol practice. There would be no danger, believe me, if we shoot over the stern."

Max understood what was in his mind. Though he had pretended to do so, the other had not forgotten the incident of the cards, and now he was going to give him, in case he should be inclined to spread the report abroad, an exhibition of his powers with the pistol. It was a hint delicately administered.

"I don't know that I ought to allow it," said the captain doubtfully; "but seeing that we have no ladies aboard, and that you promise to fire over the stern, we will risk it. Don't shoot each other, and don't keep it up too long, that's all I ask."

Moreas gave his promise and immediately disappeared below, to appear a few moments later, carrying in his hand a revolver, a piece of string, and a dozen medium-sized apples. Reaching the deck, he made one of the apples fast by the string to the wire rope that carried the awning. When this was done it hung midway between the awning and the taffrail, and afforded an excellent target.

"Have you done much shooting with the revolver?" Moreas inquired of Max, as he returned from placing the fruit in position.

"A little," the other replied.

"In that case shall we say thirty paces?"

"Whatever you like," said Max.

The distance was accordingly measured, and a chalk line drawn upon the deck.

"Shall we bet on the shot," remarked Moreas, taking a box of cartridges from his pocket and carefully filling the chambers of the revolver.

"Why not?" answered Max, still with the same imperturbability. "What shall it be? Name the sum."

"Let it be whatever you please," returned his polite adversary. "Since we are loaded with English gold shall we say half a sovereign?"

"Half a sovereign will suit me admirably," the other replied. "Perhaps you will commence?"

Nothing loath, Moreas toed the line, and, when he had examined the revolver to make sure that it was in working order, fired. The bullet hit the apple dividing it as neatly as if it had been cut with a knife.

"Bravo!" said Max. "I owe you half a sovereign."

The Spaniard handed him the revolver, and he, in his turn, took his place at the line. As boys, Max and I had been keen pistol shots, and I was quite prepared when I reached this part of his narrative to find that he had imitated Moreas' example and destroyed the target. To my surprise, however, he chronicled a miss.

"I owe you a sovereign," he said, handing the revolver to his adversary.

"You will come to it directly," the other replied patronisingly.

Once more Moreas toed the line and fired. He missed his mark, however, by some inches. An oath in Spanish escaped his lips as he handed the revolver to Max. The latter had recovered his presence of mind by this time, and when he pulled the trigger the ball pierced the apple in the centre.

"A good shot," said one of the men behind him, and Moreas, who, though he deemed it a fluke, felt compelled to agree.

"We are equal now," said Max quietly.

Again Moreas fired, but this time he hit the apple on its side, causing it to swing backwards and forwards like a pendulum. One cartridge still remained in the revolver. Max waited until the target was ready, then fired and again hit his mark. The shot was a good one, and this time there was no question of chance about it. Moreas changed colour as far as it was possible to do, and began to think that his exhibition was scarcely likely to serve the purpose for which it was intended. Once more the revolver was charged, and out of the six shots fired Max struck the apple three times and Moreas twice. Whether it was the salutary lesson he had received, or whether it was because, as he informed him later, he had taken a great liking to Max, I cannot say; the fact remains, however, that from that moment they agreed most amicably together. That he was aware Max did not trust him very far did not appear to detract from their friendliness. On the other hand, it may have added a spice to it, somewhat as bitters at times improve a glass of sherry. One day he asked Max point-blank what he intended doing when he reached his destination.

"Up to the present I have settled nothing," Max replied. "I am leaving it to chance to decide."

"It's not a bad idea," Moreas answered. "Brazil is a great place for chance. Your life is one long gamble from the time you set foot ashore until they _put_ you under ground."

"The picture you draw is not a very cheerful one," remarked Max; "particularly for the confiding emigrant."

"Oh, you need not be afraid," said Moreas confidently. "A man who can shoot as you do will always be able to keep his head above water. And now I am going to make you a little offer, which it may possibly be worth your while some day to accept. My advice to you is to try your luck first in your own fashion, and if you don't succeed, just come to me