Hurricane Island - H. B. Marriott Watson (ebook pdf reader for pc TXT) 📗

and in both cases it was broad daylight. This is where they melt fogs for the world. Oh, hang it, let's have the door shut."

He shut it as he spoke, and I looked round. The Prince sat on a sofa and waited. Lane blew on his fingers and whistled. Ellison stood, the respectful seaman as ever.

"They've been kind about the electric light," observed Barraclough, with a grin at me.

I said nothing, for there was nothing I could rejoin in the circumstances. I retraced my way to the door and opened it.

"Oh! confound it all!" roared Barraclough, as the fog rolled in. "Don't you see the ladies are here?"

I turned back, but only Princess Alix was visible. She moved white and tall under the lights. I shut the door again.

"Why has the yacht stopped, Frederic?" she asked her brother.

"The fog," he answered, with a gesture towards the door.

She looked towards us, her upper lip lifted in a charming excitement and the colour flying in her cheeks. Then she came forward swiftly, and, even as she did so, the _Sea Queen_ heeled over, rolling and trembling from her copper sheathing upwards. The shock sent me against the wall, and Barraclough also staggered. Princess Alix in her flight was precipitated forward and ran upon me. She put up her hands instinctively to save herself, but in the rush she gathered momentum, and swung across the dozen paces between where she had been and the door with the speed of an arrow discharged in the air. Her palms struck the woodwork with a resounding slap, but the full force of her sweet body fell on me. For one instant I held her in my arms quite closely, her breath upon my face.

"Are you hurt, Princess?" I gasped.

"Oh! my hands!" she cried pitifully, and then ceased suddenly. She withdrew a little. "They sting," she said, also breathlessly. "But you--you must be injured."

"I am a little out of breath," I answered, "but I was never better in my life." I cannot say why I blurted this forth. Somehow I was beyond myself.

"She has struck!" cried Barraclough.

The _Sea Queen_ righted herself slowly.

"I can't stand this," I said. "I'm going to find out."

I glanced at the Princess, but she stood clinging to the wall, her bosom heaving, her eyes on Barraclough. I opened the door, and, stepping out, closed it again behind me. I was determined to find out what had happened.

After all, it was not a very hazardous enterprise. Holgate had shown no disposition to take advantage of my visits to the forecastle, and it was pretty clear that no attack was possible at the moment. Nevertheless, I will confess that I experienced a little elation in feeling my way through the dense darkness along the saloon. It is not always possible to analyse one's feelings, but I think afterwards (not at the time) I connected this mood with the Princess. I had held her in my arms, her face to mine, and I was suddenly exalted to be capable of great things. There was nothing I would not have dared then, no danger from which I would have shrunk, no risk I would not have taken, however foolhardy. In a sense I walked on air; I was lunatic; and all because I had held for an instant of time an adorable woman in my arms with no consent of hers. I believe now (and I hope it will not be counted against me) that it was with a little swagger I opened the door and stepped forth into the rolling fog.

The _Sea Queen_ stirred a little as if to show she still lived, but there was no motion perceptible. I had buttoned up my coat round my neck, but even so the mists from the ice-clad hills on either side of the passage bit hard into me. I groped to the chart-house and then paused. A twinkle of light was visible ahead and aloft. It was the bridge. I launched myself suddenly into the vacancy before me, and went like hoodman blind with arms outstretched towards the railing. I struck an iron pillar, and guiding myself from it to another, reached at last the foot of the ladder that ran up. This I mounted very deliberately and carefully until I had come to the bridge itself, where a dull light burned by the binnacle. Instantly I was taken by the throat.

I struggled with my assailant at a disadvantage, as I was unable to reach his face, owing to his superior grip of me; but I managed to get a leg at the back of his, and though the pressure on my windpipe was terrible, and I felt that I was weakening fast, I threw him back against the railings. As I did so a light was thrust into my face, and I heard Holgate's voice.

"It's the doctor. All right, Pierce. Hands off, man."

Even as he spoke my antagonist loosened his hold, and I drew off, the relaxed artery jumping in my throat painfully.

"By thunder, doctor, you were near gone," went on Holgate in his ruminating voice. "Pierce don't take his fingers off no more than a bull-dog when he has once caught on. Lucky I had a suspicion of you. I thought no one would be such a fool as to venture save you. Glad to see you as always, if unexpectedly. Any news?"

He lighted a cigar as he spoke, and the fog was roseate about his head. I recovered my breath as best I might.

"As you are reserving us--Holgate, for a destiny of your own," I panted, "and we are not--particularly anxious to anticipate it--thought I would find out--if we are going down."

He laughed fatly. "I like you, doctor. Upon my soul I do. It's a real pity we couldn't have hit it off. No; you can sleep calmly. There's no going down; well, not yet. I've been through these Straits a score of times, and in all weathers, and I've learned this much, that a fog spells the red flag. That's all, Dr. Phillimore. She's got no more than steering way on her, and I'll pull her up presently."

"Well," said I. "I suppose it matters nothing to us, but a wreck is a frightening matter this weather."

He seemed to be studying me, and then laughed. "All serene. If you have made up your mind to your fate there's nothing to be said. But I'm in charge here, and not Sir John Barraclough. I suppose he has some use, but I've not made it out up till now."

"Holgate," said I suddenly, "this vessel's in your hands till she's out of the Straits, if she's ever out. I don't deny it. But I should like a little further light on destiny, so to speak. You reckon you can take the safes. What more do you want?"

"Nothing in the world, my lad," he said comfortably. "You've hit it. Nothing in the wide, wide world."

"Rubbish!" said I sharply. "Does any one suppose you're going to turn loose witnesses against you?"

He took the cigar from his mouth, and, though I could not discern his face in the fog, I knew its expression.

"Well, now, that's a new idea, and not a bad idea," he said equably. "Of course I should be running a risk, shouldn't I? But what's to be done in conflict with a temperament like mine? I can't help myself. Take your oath on one thing, doctor, and that is I'll die game. If the respectable folk whom I take pity on and land somewhere--somewhere nice--turn on me, why, I'll die game. But of course they won't. You know they won't, doctor."

This question was not worth answering: indeed, I knew it was not meant for an answer; it was a palpable gibe. I held my tongue, but now I knew I should get no information out of this soft-voiced ruffian until it suited him to give it. Our fate was still a mystery--if we were beaten in the struggle that was imminent, and I could not flatter myself with hopes of our victory.

I bade him good-night, for there was no reason to dispense with ceremonies; we were still enjoying our armed truce. But I had got no farther than the ladder when he hailed me through the gloom.

"I've pitched her to, now, doctor. You can sleep like a babe, and the Princess too."

I stopped--I knew not why; perhaps I had still a faint hope of discovering something.

"That means you will attack," I said calmly.

His figure loomed out upon me in the fog, the red cigar end burning in his mouth. "You don't mean that, my lad," said he, in an easy, affectionate tone. "I'm Lancashire born and Lancashire bred, and I'm shrewd enough to know a bit. You don't mean that, bless you. Look ye here, doctor; go and take your rest, and pray God to deliver you from your folly. A foolish man you were and that you be. You'll die that, my lad, I fear. Yet I would give you another chance. I liked you when I sat opposite to you in the tavern there."

"Ah, Holgate," said I, sighing deeply. "How many weary years ago, and your doing!"

I admit that this was theatrical; it was designed as such, and as a last appeal. I was afraid of that man, and that is the truth. I drew a bow at a venture. From the change in the position of the burning edge I gathered that he took his cigar out of his mouth. He was perceptibly silent for a time. Then the light went back.

"Well, you'll have a sound sleep if you take my advice," he said in his normal tones.

"And then ... a sounder," I said lightly.

"You always take too much for granted, doctor," he replied, laughing. "By the Lord, I wish I had your forward mind."

"You shall have anything you like of mine directly," I said flippantly, and began the descent of the ladder.

I was conscious that he leaned over the barrier of the bridge watching me, for I saw the point of his cigar, but that was soon swallowed up in the darkness, and I saw nothing more. The cold was so intense that my fingers had grown numb as I talked with Holgate, and I could hardly feel the iron; moreover, my feet were like lumps of ice and seemed to rest on nothing as they met the rungs. This, I imagine, was the reason of my mishap. At any rate, I missed a rung, lost my catch, and tumbled heavily down the last three or four steps, falling, to my surprise, not upon the hard deck, but upon some warmer, softer body. Remembering vividly and painfully my struggle with Pierce, I was on my guard, and grabbed the man that lay under me.

"For heaven's sake--" he gasped. "It's me--it's Pye."

I was astounded, and relaxed my hold! What was the little craven clerk doing there at this time of night, and in such weather?

"What----" I began, when he uttered an exclamation of terror, as it seemed.

"Dr. Phillimore!"

"That is so," I answered. "What on earth are you doing here?"

There was almost a whimper in his voice as he replied:

"The fog, doctor. I was foolish enough to wander out on the deck, and I lost my way. I've been straying about for twenty minutes or more. I couldn't find the door again."