CHAPTER XII
ENLIGHTENMENT
The captain was enthusiastic when he heard of Elsie's idea for theprotection of the main deck--"an excellent notion," he termed it, buthe scouted the suggestion that she should undertake the work herself.
"You little know what hauling taut heavy canvas means," he said whenthey met at lunch. "It would tear the skin off your hands. No, MissMaxwell, we can put our Chileans on to that job. I have somethingbetter for you to do. Can you map?"
"I have copied heaps of plans for my father," she told him.
"Excellent! At noon to-day I took an observation, so I intend todevote an hour to revising the chart. Will you help? Joey is in thescheme already. Then the Admiralty will gracefully acknowledge thesurvey supplied by Miss Elsie Maxwell, Captain Arthur Courtenay, andJoey, otherwise known as 'the pup.'"
His allusion to the dog by name recalled "Jose the Wine-bag," but Elsiethought she would retain that tiny scrap of detective information forthe present. So she simply said:
"You will explain to me my part of the undertaking, of course?"
"Certainly. You must first correct the Index Error. Then you subtractthe Dip and the Refraction in Altitude, take the sun's semi-diameterfrom the Nautical Almanac, and add the Parallax. Do you follow me?"
"Perfectly; it sounds the easiest thing. But I don't wish to hear theremarks of the Admiralty when they see the result."
"I am interested in navigation, to the slight extent possible to a mereyachtsman: may I join you?" interposed Christobal.
"Oh, yes," said the captain off-handedly.
Elsie repressed the smile on her lips. Did the worthy doctor feardevelopments if this harmless map-making progressed in his absence?She imagined, too, that Courtenay's acquiesence in Christobal's desireto be present was not wholly in accordance with his innermost wish.She promptly crushed that dangerous fancy. The captain was onlyseeking for some excuse to take her away from the rough work of riggingthe extra awnings. How odd that the other thought should have croppedup first!
"You still think the _Kansas_ will win clear of her difficulties?" shesaid rather hurriedly. "I am sorry to bring King Charles's head intothe conversation, but, after all, the ship's safety is essential toyour survey."
"Every hour strengthens my opinion," was the confident reply. "Suarezsays that there is a reasonable chance of occasional brief spells offine weather at this period of the year. At any rate, the gale may notbe absolutely continuous, and Walker is assured that he can patch upthe engines for half speed. Given a calm day, a day like this, forinstance, we can reach the Straits in a few hours."
"And the Indians?"
"I leave them out of my reckoning. What else can I do?"
"Kill 'em," said Tollemache.
Courtenay glanced sharply at his fellow-countryman. He disliked thesereferences to the Alaculof bogy in Elsie's presence. It was enoughthat it should exist without being constantly paraded. Though the girlherself was the culprit, Tollemache should have left the topic alone.
But Tollemache was a man of fixed ideas. The device of canvas shieldsto repel boarders had set him thinking how much more effective it wouldbe if the savages were kept at a distance. He well knew that theywould not be deterred by a shotgun and a few revolvers, once they hadmade up their minds to carry the ship by assault. To explain himself,he was compelled to speak at some length, and his swarthy face flushedunder the unusual strain.
"We have dynamite aboard," he said. "Why not construct a couple ofinfernal machines which could be fired by pulling a string, and letthem drift towards the canoes when the Indians are near enough?"
"It is worth trying," was Courtenay's brief comment, though he sawlater that Tollemache's suggestion was a very useful one.
Elsie's first task was to prepare a large-scale drawing of the southernpart of Hanover Island, as set forth in Admiralty Chart No. 1837 (Sheet2, Patagonia), which is the only trustworthy record available forshipmasters using the outer passage between the Gulf of Penas and theStraits of Magellan. It was a simple matter to fill in the fewcontours given. The neighboring small islands were shown in reasonabledetail, but the whole western coast of Hanover Island itself consistedof a dotted line and a solitary peak, Stokes Mountain, the height ofwhich could be estimated and its position triangulated from the sea.Even Concepcion Straits on the north and the San Blas Channel on thesouth were marked in those significant dotted lines. The coast waspractically unknown to civilized man. One of the last fortresses ofthe world, grim, inhospitable, it guarded its secret recesses with cragand glacier and reef-strewn sea.
It was borne in on the girl, while she worked, that the chiefest marvelin her present condition was the triumph of science over nature in itsmost hostile mood. The _Kansas_ boasted all the comforts and luxuriesof a well-equipped hotel. Seated at the same table as herself was askilful sailor, using logarithms, secants and cosecants, polardistances and hour angles, as if he were in some university class-room.Near the door, enjoying the warm sun, Boyle was stretched on adeck-chair, while Christobal was offering a half-hearted protestagainst his patient's manifest enjoyment of the first cigar he had beenable to smoke since a Chilean knife disturbed certain sensory nervesbetween his shoulder-blades. The every sociableness of the gatheringwas a paradox: the truth lay with the ice-capped hills and the ape-likenomads who infested the humid forests of the lower slopes.
She stole a glance at Courtenay. He was so keenly engaged on thebusiness in hand, so bent on achieving accuracy in his figures, thatshe chided herself for her morbid reverie. Then she wondered if heever gave a thought to that promised wife of his, who must soon sufferthe agony of knowing that the _Kansas_ was overdue.
Elsie was sufficiently well acquainted with shipping to realize thesensation that would be created by the first cablegram from Coronelanouncing the non-appearance of the steamer in the Straits. TheValparaiso newspapers would be full of surmises as to the vessel'sfate. They would publish full details of the valuable cargo--and givea list of the passengers and officers. Ah! Ventana would learn then,if he had not heard of it earlier, that she was on board. And he alonewould understand the true reason of her flight from Chile. Her cheeksflushed, and she applied herself more closely to the chart she wascopying. She had left a good deal unsaid in her brief statement thatmorning. How strange, how utterly unexpected it was, that Ventana'sname should fall from Courtenay's lips--Courtenay, of all men living!And what did Isobel mean, during that last dreadful scene ere she wascarried away to the boat, by screaming in her frenzy that Ventana hadtaken "an ample vengeance." Vengeance for what? Had the half-breeddared to make the same proposal to the rich and highly placed IsobelBaring that he did not scruple to put before the needy governess?Surely that was impossible. There were limits even to his audacity--
"Well, how is my chief hydrographer progressing?"
Courtenay's cheery voice banished the unwelcome specter of Ventana.Elsie started.
"I do believe you were day-dreaming," said the captain with a surprisedsmile. "A penny for your thoughts?"
"I don't think you can pay me," she retorted, hoping to cover herconfusion.
"Won't you accept Chilean currency?"
"Not on the high seas."
"But you are on dry land. Please make a dot on your map at 51 degrees14 minutes 9 seconds South, and 74 degrees 59 minutes 3 seconds West.That is the present position of the ship. Are you listening, Boyle?According to the chart, the ship is high and dry, four miles inland."
"Huh!" grunted Boyle. "Reminds me of a skipper I once sailed with,bound from Rotterdam to Hull in ballast. There was a Scotch mist bestpart of the trip, an' the old man loaded with schnapps to keep out thedamp. First time he got a squint of the sun he went as yaller as aSwede turnip. 'It's all up with us, boys,' he said. 'My missus isforty fathoms below. We've just sailed over York.' You see, he'd madea mistake of a few degrees."
"Boyle," said Courtenay, severely, "what has come to you? Are youactually
making a joke?"
"I think I must have bin tongue-tied before, captain."
"Before what?"
"Before that lame duck in the fo'c'sle stuck his tobacco-cutter into myjaw. I can talk like a prize parrot now--can't I, Miss Maxwell?"
Elsie was laughing, but she remembered the subject on which Boyle haddisplayed his new-found power of speech; and human parrots are apt tosay too much.
"Please don't tell any more funny little stories," she cried, "or Ishall be putting dots in the wrong places."
"And causing us to waste time scandalously. Are you ready, MissMaxwell? Let me pin this compass card on the table. Use the parallelruler; regard each inch as a mile, and I'll do the rest by guesswork."
Courtenay took his binoculars, and went on to the bridge. He calledout the apparent distance of each landmark he could distinguish,described it, and gave its true bearing. In the result, Elsie foundshe had prepared a clear and fairly accurate chart of the bay and itsheadlands, while the position of the distant range of mountains wasmarked with tolerable precision. But Courtenay was far from beingsatisfied.
"If I had a base line, or even a fresh set of points taken higher upthe inlet, I could improve on my part of the survey," he said. "Yoursis admirable, Miss Maxwell. Of course, I know you are an artist; butmapping is a thing apart. That is first-rate."
"Perhaps you may be able to secure fresh data when the _Kansas_ puts tosea again," said Christobal.
"If I am conning the wheel, I must leave the chart-making entirely tomy assistant," replied the captain, lightly. "But I do mean to peep alittle further into our estuary. Before the ship sails I may haveanother spare hour to devote to it."
"In what way?" asked Elsie.
"By utilizing the canoe. A mile or so higher up the channel I shouldbe clear of the bluff which hides Otter Creek. I imagine it will bepossible then to see the full extent of the bay. I must get you tosound Suarez as to the lie of the land."
"I hope you will do nothing of the sort," protested Elsie, earnestly.
"Why? Do you think the canoe unsafe?"
"No, no; not that. But those waiting Indians. They might see you."
"Oh, the Indians again! I shall run no risk of that sort. It wouldindeed be the irony of fate if the _Kansas_ slipped her cable and leftthe skipper behind."
"Huh! No fear! She'd follow you like Joey. I was tellin' MissMaxwell what a lucky fellow you were. Besides, if you went, I 'd be incommand, and you know what would happen then. By gad, if all elsefailed, the bloomin' tub would turn turtle in the Pool."
To emphasize his remarks, Boyle blew a big smoke ring, and shot severalsmaller rings through it.
Elsie felt Christobal's critical eye on her; she was shading theoutlines of the map, and trusted that her head was bent sufficiently tohide the tell-tale color which leapt to her face. But Courtenay wishedto hear more of this.
"I hope you do not credit everything my chief officer says about me,"he said, glancing over her shoulder at the drawing. "Nor abouthimself," he added, as she was too busy to look up. "To my knowledge,he has refused the command of two ships since we both joined the_Kansas_."
"Home orders!" cried Boyle, who was certainly beyond himself. Probablyhe missed his regular vocal exercise owing to lack of a crew. "Mymissus says to me, 'You just stick to Captain Courtenay, youngfeller-me-lad. He's one of the get-rich-quick sort. P'raps you 'lllearn from him how to dodge Board of Trade inquiries.' You stand onwhat I told you, Miss Maxwell. You remember? Commodore! Huh!"
Something must be done to stem the long-pent flood of Mr. Boyle'sgossip. Elsie turned on him desperately.
"How do you expect me to listen to you, and work at the same time?" shesaid.
"Sorry," he answered, composing himself to sleep.
Courtenay glanced at the chronometer.
"I must be off," he announced. "Tollemache may need some help with hisbombs, and those Chileans require looking after."
Christobal, too, quitted the chart-room to visit his patients. He hadsaid very little while he sat there, and Elsie did not know whether tolaugh or cry at the tragic-comedy of her environment. She was onlycertain of one thing--she would like to box Boyle's ears. She wascompletely at a loss to account for his persistent efforts to drag inreferences to their prior conversation. She dared not catechize him.That would be piling up more difficulties for the future. But whatpossessed him to blurt out such embarrassing details in the presence ofthe two men whom she most wished to remain in ignorance of them?
She peeped at Boyle sideways. His eyes were closed, the cigar wasbetween his teeth, and he had a broad grin on his face. She could notguess that the once taciturn chief officer of the _Kansas_ was sayingto himself:
"My godfather, how Pills glared! There will be trouble on this shipabout a woman before long, or I'm a Dutchman. An' didn't the skipperrise at the fly, too! Huh!"
He uttered the concluding monosyllable aloud.
"Did you speak?" inquired Elsie, severely.
"Eh? No, Miss Maxwell."
"Oh, I thought you wanted to say something."
"Not a word. Too much talking makes my back stiff."
"Your physical peculiarities are amazing, Mr. Boyle."
"Huh, it's odd how things take some people. I once knew a chap,skipper of the _Flower of the Ocean_, who could drink a hogshead ofbeer an' be as sober as a judge except in one leg, an' that was awooden one."
She laughed. It was impossible to be vexed with him.
"You have met some very remarkable shipmasters, if all you say betrue," she cried.
"Sailors are queer folk, believe me. That same brig, _Flower of theOcean_, an' a pretty flower she was, too--all tar an' coal-dust, with aperfume that would poison a rat--put into Grimsby one day, an' thecrowd went ashore. They kicked up a shindy with some bar-loungers, an'the fur flew. When the police came, old Peg-leg, the skipper, youknow, was the only man left in the place, havin' unshipped his crutchfor the fight. 'What have you bin a-doin' of here--throwin' grapesabout?' asked the peeler, gazin' at the floor, suspicious-like.'Grapes,' said Dot-an'-carry-one, 'them ain't grapes. Them'seyeballs!' Another time--"
"Mr. Boyle!" shrieked Elsie, and fled.
"Huh!" he grunted. "Off before the wind when she hears a Sunday-schoolyarn like that. Wonder what she 'd say if I told her about theplum-duff with beetles for Sultanas. Girls are brought up nowadayslike orchids. They shouldn't be let loose in this wicked world."
As Elsie passed along the promenade deck she saw Courtenay, Tollemache,and Walker deep in consultation. They were arranging a percussion fuseof fulminating mercury. While she was watching them, Walker dropped abroken furnace bar on top of a small package placed on an iron block.Instantly there was a sharp report, and Joey, who was an interestedobserver, jumped several feet. The men laughed, and she heardCourtenay say:
"That is the right proportion of fulminate. Now, Tollemache, I'll helpyou to fix them. We do not know the moment those reptiles may chooseto attack."
So the captain did not leave the Alaculof menace altogether out ofcount. Something rose in her throat, some wave of emotion whichthreatened her splendid serenity. She ran rather than walked to hercabin, flung herself on the bed, and sobbed piteously. It had to come,this tempest of tears. When desperate odds demanded unflinchingcourage, she faced them dry-eyed, with steadfast heart. But to-day, inthe bright sunshine and apparent security of the ship, sinisterdeath-shadows tortured her into rebellion. She did not stop to askherself why she wept; being a woman, she yielded to the gust, and whenit had ended, with the suddenness of a summer shower, she smiledthrough the vanishing tears. Her first concern was that none should beaware of her weakness.
"How stupid of me," she murmured. "What would the men think if theyknew I broke down in this fashion."
She looked in a mirror. In the clear light without, any one could seeshe had been crying, and there was so much work to be done that she didnot wish to remain in her stater
oom until all tokens of the storm hadpassed. She searched for a powder-puff, and was at a loss to discoverits whereabouts until she recollected that the doctor had borrowed itfor the use of a man slightly scalded when his own supply of antisepticpowder was exhausted. So she went into Isobel's room, entering it forthe first time since the _Kansas_ struck on the shoal. The two cabinscommunicated, as Mr. Baring had gone to the expense of having a doorbroken through the partition for the girls' use during the voyage. IfElsie had not already given way to tears she must have faltered now atthe sight of her friend's belongings strewed in confusion over thefloor, chairs, dressing-table, and bed. Isobel possessed agold-mounted dressing-case the size of an ordinary portmanteau. Itheld an assortment of pretty, and mostly useless, knick-knacks, andthey had all been tumbled out in a frantic hurry. At first Elsieflinched from further scrutiny, but common sense told her that thisdespondent mood must be fought. She dropped to her knees, found amother-o'-pearl _poudrier_, and picked up other scattered articles andreplaced them in the dressing-case. To accomplish this it wasnecessary to rearrange various trays and drawers. Portraits of girlfriends, including her own, and of men unknown to her, letters,memoranda, and other documents, were thrown about in disorder. Allthese she put back in their receptacles, wondering the while whatmotive had led Isobel to make such a frenzied search for some specialobject that she cared not a jot what became of the remaining articles.
Yet, who could account for the frenzy of that terrible hour when thecaptain announced the ship's danger? Even Courtenay himself, sheremembered, had emptied a locker in a rapid hunt for the dog's coat;but he had laughingly explained his haste later when some chancereference was made to his soaked garments.
Anything was explicable in the light of panic. She gathered up a skirtand some blouses, locked the dressing-case, put the key in her purse,and quitted the room with a heavy heart, for the handling of herfriend's treasures had brought sad memories.
Passing into the deck corridor, she heard the captain's voice,apparently at a considerable distance. Two hundred yards away from theship, Courtenay and Tollemache were anchoring a flat framework, builtof spare hatches and secured by wooden cross-pieces. On it stood thefirst of the infernal machines. The raft floated level with the water,so its only conspicuous fitting was a small spar and a block, to whicha line and an iron bar were attached. The men looked strange in hereyes at that distance. In the marvellously clear light she could seetheir features distinctly, and, when Courtenay shouted to a sailor tohaul in the slack of the line, she caught a trumpet-like ring thatrecalled the scene in the saloon when he held back the mob of stewards.His athletic figure, silhouetted against the shimmering green of thewater, was instinct with graceful strength. He looked a born leader ofmen, and, as though to mark his quickness of observation, no sooner hadElsie glanced over the side of the ship than he waved a hand to her.
She sighed. A bitter thought peeped up in her that he was perhaps atrifle careless in showing her these little attentions. She wished hewould speak to her of that other girl who awaited him in England. Apleasant state of confidence would be established then; these secrettwitches of sentiment were irritating.
Some women, in her place, would pay no heed to that aspect of theirenforced relations; not so Elsie, whose virginal breast was undulyfluttered by the discovery that a young man is the most natural thingin the world for a young woman to think about.
She walked aft to obtain a nearer view of the operations. The sailorshad already shut in a large portion of the promenade deck with canvas,and she noticed that loopholes were provided, every ten feet or so, topermit the effective use of the defenders' firearms. Thus, at eachstep, she was reminded of the precarious hold she had on life, and shewas positively frightened when some mad impulse surged through herwhole being, bidding her imperiously to abandon her ultra-conscientiousloyalty to a woman she had never seen. Why struggle againstcircumstance? If death were so near, what did she gain by prudery?
For an instant she stood aghast at the revelation which had come toher. She was in love with Courtenay. She was ready to die by hisside, fearless and joyous, if only he would put his arms around her andtell her that she was dear to him. Ah, the fierce delight of thatfirst silent surrender! Her heart beat as it had never pulsed before,even under the stress of the storm or the sudden terror of the nightattack. Her eyes shone, and her breath came laboriously between partedlips. Golden dreams coursed through her brain. She was thrilled withan unutterable longing.
Then her swimming eyes rested on a group of men standing on the poop.Among them was Christobal, interested, like the rest, in the floatingof the mine. And forthwith Elsie fell from the clouds, and was broughtback, shuddering, to cold reason again. She was sick at heart; shehated herself for her self-abasement. She must gird her with sackclothand mourn; and the fight must be fought now, without parley orhesitation, unless the sweetness were to go forth from life for ever,and all things should turn to ashes in her mouth.
So, marshaling the best qualities of her womanhood, she quelled theturmoil in her breast, forced herself to join the men on the afterdeck, and said, when the smiling Spaniard turned to receive her:
"Why am I denied the mild excitement of mine-laying, Dr. Christobal?Is it that you dread the effect on my nerves of these murderouspreparations?"
"No," he answered, making room for her at the railing by his side. "Ihad missed you, of course, but I thought you were resting."
"Resting, indeed! I have been quite busy. Where do they mean to putthe second contrivance?"
"About there," he said, indicating a point on the surface of the bayeastward of the canoe. His right arm was extended, and he placed hisleft hand on her shoulder. Courtenay, hailing Walker, saw the twoleaning over the rails in that attitude. Perhaps one of the two hopedthat Courtenay would see them. Elsie, as part of her punishment, didnot shrink away, though the touch of Christobal's hand made her fleshcreep. But Joey, whose mind was singularly free from complexities,leaped up at her. He wanted Elsie to tell him what Courtenay was doingout there, so far away from the ship. She stooped and picked him up.Christobal had no excuse for a second caress.
"Bark, Joey," she whispered, "bark and call your master. If anythinghappens to him, you and I shall never see England again. And I amlonging for home to-day."