CHAPTER XIV
FROM THE CROW'S NEST
The night passed without incident, except for one thing that we wereunable to verify. At six bells, during the darkest hour of the nightthat precedes the early dawn of summer, Adams, from the crow's-nest,called down, in a panic, that there was something crawling on all fourson the deck below him.
Burns, on watch at the companionway, ran forward with his revolver, andnarrowly escaped being brained--Adams at that moment flinging down amarlinespike that he had carried aloft with him.
I heard the crash and joined Burns, and together we went over the deckand, both houses. Everything was quiet: the crew in various attitudesof exhausted sleep, their chests and dittybags around them; Oleson atthe wheel; and Singleton in his jail-room, breathing heavily.
Adams's nerve was completely gone, and, being now thoroughly awake, Ijoined him in the crow's-nest. Nothing could convince him that he hadbeen the victim of a nervous hallucination. He stuck to his storyfirmly.
"It was on the forecastle-head first," he maintained. "I saw itgleaming."
"Gleaming?"
"Sort of shining," he explained. "It came up over the rail, and atfirst it stood up tall, like a white post."
"You didn't say before that it was white."
"It was shining," he said slowly, trying to put his idea into words."Maybe not exactly white, but light-colored. It stood still for solong, I thought I must be mistaken--that it was a light on the rigging.Then I got to thinking that there wasn't no place for a light to comefrom just there."
That was true enough.
"First it was as tall as a man, or taller maybe," he went on. "Then itseemed about half that high and still in the same place. Then it gotlower still, and it took to crawling along on its belly. It was then Iyelled."
I looked down. The green starboard light threw a light over only asmall part of the deck. The red light did no better. The masthead waspossibly thirty feet above the hull, and served no illuminating purposewhatever. From the bridge forward the deck was practically dark.
"You yelled, and then what happened?"
His reply was vague--troubled.
"I'm not sure," he said slowly. "It seemed to fade away. The whitegot smaller--went to nothing, like a cloud blown away in a gale. Iflung the spike."
I accepted the story with outward belief and a mental reservation. ButI did not relish the idea of the spike Adams had thrown lying below ondeck. No more formidable weapon short of an axe, could be devised. Isaid as much.
"I'm going down for it," I said; "if you're nervous, you'd better keepit by you. But don't drop it on everything that moves below. Youalmost got Burns."
I went down cautiously, and struck a match where Adams had indicatedthe spike. It was not there. Nor had Burns picked it up. Asplintered board showed where it had struck, and a smaller indentationwhere it had rebounded; but the marlinespike was gone, and Burns hadnot seen it. We got a lantern and searched systematically, withoutresult. Burns turned to me a face ghastly in the oil light.
"Somebody has it," he said, "and there will be more murder! Oh, my God,Leslie!"
"When you went back after the alarm, did you count the men?"
"No; Oleson said no one had come forward. They could not have passedwithout his seeing them. He has the binnacle lantern and two otherlights."
"And no one came from the after house?"
"No one."
Eight bells rang out sharply. The watch changed. I took the revolverand Burns's position at the companionway, while Burns went aft. Helined up the men by the binnacle light, and went over them carefully.The marlinespike was not found; but he took from the cook a longmeat-knife, and brought both negro and knife forward to me. The manwas almost collapsing with terror. He maintained that he had taken theknife for self-protection, and we let him go with a warning.
Dawn brought me an hour's sleep, the first since my awakening in thestoreroom. When I roused, Jones at the wheel had thrown an extrablanket over me, for the morning was cool and a fine rain wasfalling.
The men were scattered around in attitudes of dejection, one or two ofthem leaning over the rail, watching the jolly-boat, riding easilybehind us. Jones heard me moving, and turned.
"Your friend below must be pretty bad, sir," he said. "Your lady-lovehas been asking for you. I wouldn't let them wake you."
"My--what?"
He waxed apologetic at once.
"That's just my foolishness, Leslie," he said. "No disrespect to thelady, I'm sure. If it ain't so, it ain't, and no harm done. If it isso, why, you needn't be ashamed, boy. 'The way of a man with a maid,'says the Book."
"You should have called me, Jones," I said sharply. "And no nonsenseof that sort with the men."
He looked hurt, but made no reply beyond touching his cap. And, whileI am mentioning that, I may speak of the changed attitude of the mentoward me from the time they put me in charge. Whether the deferencewas to the office rather than the man, or whether in placing me inauthority they had merely expressed a general feeling that I was withthem rather than of them, I do not know. I am inclined to think theformer. The result, in any case, was the same. They deferred to mewhenever possible, brought large and small issues alike to me, servedme my food alone, against my protestations, and, while navigating theship on their own responsibility, took care to come to me for authorityfor everything.
Before I went below that morning, I suggested that some of the sparecanvas be used to erect a shelter on the after deck, and this was done.The rain by that time was driving steadily--a summer rain without wind.The men seemed glad to have occupation, and, from that time on, thetent which they erected over the hatchway aft of the wheel was theirliving and eating quarters. It added something to their comfort: I wasnot so certain that it added to their security.
Turner was violent that day. I found all four women awake and dressed,and Mrs. Turner, whose hour it was on duty, in a chair outside thedoor. The stewardess, her arm in a sling, was making tea over aspirit-lamp, and Elsa was helping her. Mrs. Johns was stretched on adivan, and on the table lay a small revolver.
Clearly, Elsa had told the incident of the key. I felt at once theatmosphere of antagonism. Mrs. Johns watched me coolly from underlowered eyelids. The stewardess openly scowled. And Mrs. Turner rosehastily, and glanced at Mrs. Johns, as if in doubt. Elsa had her backto me, and was busy with the cups.
"I'm afraid you've had a bad night," I said.
"A very bad night," Mrs. Turner replied stiffly.
"Delirium?"
"Very marked. He has talked of a white figure--we cannot quite make itout. It seems to be Wilmer--Mr. Vail."
She had not opened the door, but stood, nervously twisting her fingers,before it.
"The bromides had no effect?"
She glanced helplessly at the others. "None," she said, after a moment.
Elsa Lee wheeled suddenly and glanced scornfully at her sister.
"Why don't you tell him?" she demanded. "Why don't you say you didn'tgive the bromides?"
"Why not?"
Mrs. Johns raised herself on her elbow and looked at me.
"Why should we?" she asked. "How do we know what you are giving him?You are not friendly to him or to us. We know what you are trying todo--you are trying to save yourself, at any cost. You put a guard atthe companionway. You rail off the deck for our safety. You drop thestoreroom key in Mr. Turner's cabin, where Elsa will find it, and willbe obliged to acknowledge she found it, and then take it from her byforce, so you can show it later on and save yourself!"
Elsa turned on her quickly.
"I told you how he got it, Adele. I tried to throw it--"
"Oh, if you intend to protect him!"
"I am rather bewildered," I said slowly; "but, under the circumstances,I suppose you do not wish me to look after Mr. Turner?"
"We think not"--from Mrs. Turner.
"How will you manage alone?"
Mrs. Johns
got up and lounged to the table. She wore a long satinnegligee of some sort, draped with lace. It lay around her on thefloor in gleaming lines of soft beauty. Her reddish hair was low onher neck, and she held a cigarette, negligently, in her teeth. All thewomen smoked, Mrs. Johns incessantly.
She laid one hand lightly on the revolver, and flicked the ash from hercigarette with the other.
"We have decided," she said insolently, "that, if the crew mayestablish a dead-line, so may we. Our dead-line is the foot of thecompanionway. One of us will be on watch always. I am an excellentshot."
"I do not doubt it." I faced her. "I am afraid you will suffer forair; otherwise, the arrangement is good. You relieve me of part of theresponsibility for your safety. Tom will bring your food to the stepsand leave it there."
"Thank you."
"With good luck, two weeks will see us in port; and then--"
"In port! You are taking us back?"
"Why not?"
She picked up the revolver and examined it absently. Then she glancedat me, and shrugged her shoulders. "How can we know? Perhaps this is amutiny, and you are on your way to some God forsaken island. That'sthe usual thing among pirates, isn't it?"
"I have no answer to that, Mrs. Johns," I said quietly, and turned towhere Elsa sat.
"I shall not come back unless you send for me," I said. "But I wantyou to know that my one object in life from now on is to get you backsafely to land; that your safety comes first, and that the vigilance ondeck in your interest will not be relaxed."
"Fine words!" the stewardess muttered.
The low mumbling from Turner's room had persisted steadily. Now itrose again in the sharp frenzy that had characterized it through thelong night.
"Don't look at me like that, man!" he cried, and then "He's lost ahand! A hand!"
Mrs. Turner went quickly into the cabin, and the sounds ceased. Ilooked at Elsa, but she avoided my eyes. I turned heavily and went upthe companionway.