CHAPTER XVIII
The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. The act wasmechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searchingabout for a new vent. He was a just man, and he did not care tostart any thunder which was not based upon fairness. He had no wishto go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. He had already shown thecovering envelope and its instructions to Ruth, and she had ignoredor misunderstood the warning. The boy was right. Ruth could not betold now. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needlesscruelty to give her a push toward it. But all these hours, tryingto teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his backwas turned, this!
He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation--his owninterest in Ruth. The haste to send her upon her way now had butone interpretation--the recognition of his own immediate danger,the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end inoffering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which hadhappened--the love of a man who was in all probability older thanher father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was soridiculous.
He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as achagrined lover. He dropped the key on the counterpane.
"If I could only make you realize what you have done," he said,lamely.
"I know exactly what I have done," replied Spurlock. "She is mylawful wife."
"I should have opened that letter in the beginning," said thedoctor. "But I happen to be an honest man myself. Had you died, Ishould have fully obeyed the instructions on that envelope. Youwill make her suffer."
"For every hurt she has, I shall have two. I did not lay any trapsfor her. I asked her to marry me, and she consented."
"Ah, yes; that's all very well. But when she learns that you are afugitive from justice...."
"What proof have you that I am?"--was the return bolt.
"A knowledge of the ways of men. I don't know what you have done; Idon't want to know now. But God will punish you for what you havedone this day."
"As for that, I don't say. But I shall take care of Ruth, work forher and fight for her." A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in asingular way. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. I'm nomollycoddle. I have only one question to ask you."
"And what might that be?"
"Will McClintock take us both?"
"You took that chance. There has never been a white woman atMcClintock's."
He paused, and not without malice. He was human. The pauselengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt theset mockery of Spurlock's mouth.
"You begin to have doubts, eh? A handful of money between you, andnothing else. There are only a few jobs over here for a man of yourtype; and even these are more or less hopeless if you haven'ttrained mechanical ability." Then he became merciful. "ButMcClintock agrees to take you both--because he's as big a fool as Iam. But I give you this warning, and let it sink in. You will beunder the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treatthat child for what she is--an innocent angel--I promise to huntyou across the wide world and kill you with bare hands."
Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. "And on my part, I shallnot lift a hand to defend myself."
"I wish I could have foreseen."
"That is to say, you wish you had let me die?"
"That was the thought."
This frankness rather subdued Spurlock. His shoulders relaxed andhis gaze wavered. "Perhaps that would have been best."
"But what, in God's name, possessed you? You have already wreckedyour own life and now you've wrecked hers. She doesn't love you;she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read innovels. The world isn't real yet; she hasn't comparisons by whichto govern her acts. I am a physician first, which gives the man inme a secondary part. You have just passed through rather a severephysical struggle; just as previously to your collapse you had gonethrough some terrific mental strain. Your mind is still subtlysick. The man in me would like to break every bone in your body,but the physician understands that you don't actually realize whatyou have done. But in a little while you will awake; and if thereis a spark of manhood in you, you will be horrified at this day'swork."
Spurlock closed his eyes. Expiation. He felt the first sting of thewhip. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only thesensation of exaltation.
"If you two loved each other," went on the doctor, "there would besomething to stand on--a reason why for this madness. I can fairlyunderstand Ruth; but you...!"
"Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried inanguish? Twenty-four hours a day to think in, alone?... Perhaps Idid not want to go mad from loneliness. I will tell you this much,because you have been kind. It is true that I do not love Ruth; butI swear to you, before the God of my fathers, that she shall neverknow it!"
"I'll be getting along." The doctor ran his fingers through hishair, despairingly. "A hell of a muddle! But all the talk in theworld can't undo it. I'll put you aboard _The Tigress_ to-morrowafter sundown. But remember my warning, and play the game!"
Spurlock closed his eyes again. The doctor turned quickly and madefor the door, which he opened and shut gently because he wasassured that Ruth was listening across the hall for any sign ofviolence. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock.All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo whatwas done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown upin his own lonely heart.
Opals. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest thetruth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent womenwho make havoc with the hearts of men.
Marriage!--and no woman by to tell the child what it was! Theshocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly--andbitterly. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, somehidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would becomea millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her anobject of pity and contempt.
There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shamefulshabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. The picture mighteasily apply to _The Tigress_: outwardly disreputable, but richlyand comfortably appointed below. The flush deck was without wells.The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under aspread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. Amidshipthere was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab anddirty.
The dining saloon was done in mahogany and sandalwood, with eightcabins, four to port and four to starboard. The bed-and table-linenwere of the finest texture. From the centre of the ceiling hung areplica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. The odour of coconutprevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasionedpleasure junket, _The Tigress_ was a copra carrier, shell and fibre.
McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding himannually about half a million nuts. Natives brought him an equalamount from the neighbouring islands. As the palm bears nutsperennially, there were always coconut-laden proas making thebeach. Thus, McClintock carried to Copeley's press about half amillion pounds of copra. There was a very substantial profit in thetransaction, for he paid the natives in commodities--colouredcotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, householdutensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. It was perfectly legitimate.Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed allconcerned.. A native sold his supply of nuts in exchange for cloth,tobacco and so forth. In the South Seas, money is the eliminatedmiddleman.
Where the islands are grouped, men discard the use of geographicalnames and simply refer to "McClintock's" or "Copeley's," to thelogical dictator of this or that island.
* * * * *
At sundown Spurlock was brought aboard and put into cabin 2, whileRuth was assigned to cabin 4, adjoining. From the Sha-mien to theyacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in thesemi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him.
Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented anextraordinary fascination. She had suddenly become as the jewels ofthe Madonna, as the idol'
s eye, infinitely beyond his reach,sacred. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queerabsorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he hadput her outside that circle. His lawful wife; but nothing more;beyond that she was only an idea, a trust.
An incredible road he had elected to travel; he granted that it wasincredible; and along this road somewhere would be Desire. Therewere menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble.What would happen when confronted by the actual? He was young; shewas also young and physically beautiful--his lawful wife. He hadput himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now avestal in the temple. Such was the condition of his mind that thedanger exhilarated rather than depressed him. Here would be thetrue test of his strength. Upon this island whither he was boundthere would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would beconstant.
All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over thisphase which was wholly suppositional. He did not love Ruth. Theywould be partners only in loneliness. He would provide thenecessities of life and protect her. He would teach her all he knewof life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, shewould be able to defend herself. He was always anticipating,stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existenttroubles. These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of thedoctor.
"Good-bye, young man; and good luck."
"You are offering your hand to me?"
"Without reservations." The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendlypressure. "Buck up! While there's life there's hope. Play fair withher. You don't know what you have got; I do. Let her have her ownway in all things, for she will always be just."
Spurlock turned aside his head as he replied: "Words are sometimesuseless things. I might utter a million, and still I doubt if Icould make you understand."
"Probably not. The thing is done. The main idea now is of thefuture. You will have lots of time on your hands. Get out your padand pencil. Go to it. Ruth will be a gold mine for a man of yourpeculiar bent."
"You read those yarns?" Spurlock's head came about, and there waseagerness in his eyes. "Rot, weren't they?"
"No. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to createyet. Go to it; and the best of luck!"
He went out. This farewell had been particularly distasteful tohim. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demandsphysical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. Heproceeded to the deck, where Ruth and McClintock were waiting forhim by the ladder. He handed Ruth a letter.
"What is this?" she wanted to know.
"A hundred dollars which was left from your husband's money."
"Would you be angry if I offered it to you?"
"Very. Don't worry about me."
"You are the kindest man I have ever known," said Ruth, unashamedof her tears. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you. It isuseless to talk. I could never make you understand."
Almost the identical words of the boy. "Will you write," asked thedoctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?"
"Oh, yes!"
"The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination;get him started with his writing. Remember, some day you and I aregoing to have that book." He patted her hand. "Good-bye, Mac. Don'tforget to cut out all effervescent water. If you will have yourpeg, take it with plain water. You'll be along next spring?"
"If the old tub will float. I'll watch over these infants, ifthat's your worry. Good-bye."
The doctor went down the side to the waiting sampan, which at onceset out for the Sha-mien. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed therocking light until it vanished. One more passer-by; and alwayswould she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness.She was quite assured that she would never see him again.
"Yon's a dear man," said McClintock. His natal burr was always inevidence when he was sentimentally affected. He knocked his pipe onthe teak rail. "Took a great fancy to you. Wants me to look out foryou a bit. I take it, down where we're going will be nothing new toyou. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player."
"Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?"
"No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet.Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. I'm a bit daffyabout music."
"That sounds funny ... to play it with your feet!"
McClintock laughed. "It's a pump, like an organ."
"Oh, I see. What a wonderful world it is!" Music. She shuddered.
"Ay. Well, I'll be getting this tub under way."
Ruth walked to the companion. It was one of those old sliding trapaffairs, narrow and steep of descent. She went down, feeling ratherthan seeing the way. The door of cabin 2 was open. Someone hadthoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb.
She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the thresholdand stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. In thesubdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake.Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as ahand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into theposition of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to thedivine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be writtenwith her heart's blood.
What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that thedivine fire was hers.
"Ruth?" he called.
She entered and approached the bunk. "I thought you were asleep. Isthere anything you want?" She laid her hand on his forehead, andfound it without fever. She had worried in fear that the excitementwould be too much for him.
"Call me Hoddy. That is what my mother used to call me."
"Hoddy," she repeated. "I shall like to call you that. But now youmust be quiet; there's been too much excitement. Knock on thepartition if you want anything during the might. I awaken easily.Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out.
For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. He heard thepanting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchorchains. Presently he felt motion. He chuckled. The vast ironichumour of it: he was starting on his honeymoon!