CHAPTER XXVI
"Now, what about the yacht?" inquired MacAndrew. "We mustn't be caughthere. It is impossible to say how soon the troops may be after us.There is a guard-house in Aniwa Bay; and they are certain to knowbefore long, that a man has escaped from Dui and is heading this way."
"The yacht will be within signalling distance of this hut to-night atmidnight," said Browne. "And you can see for yourself there are somerockets in that corner which I can fire. Then, within half an hour,she will send a boat ashore."
"Good," he remarked in a tone of approval. "Very good. You are thesort of man I like to do business with. For my part, I shall not besorry to get out of this." He pointed to his disguise.
"I dare say you will not," answered Browne. "You have succeededwonderfully well. I cannot tell you how much obliged I am to you."
"I am equally obliged to you," said MacAndrew, "so we can cry quits. Iflatter myself that, all things considered, it has been a pretty goodescape; but I could tell you of one or two which have been better. Wemustn't shout too soon, however; we are not out of the wood yet." Ashe spoke he mixed himself another glass of grog and lit a cigar, thesmoke of which he puffed through his nose with the enjoyment of a man,to whom such a luxury had been forbidden for some time past. Brownefollowed his example, and the two men smoked in silence, while theex-Nihilist snored on the bed in the corner. Hour after hour theytalked on. As Browne had suspected, MacAndrew proved the mostinteresting companion in the world. His life had been one long seriesof hairbreadth escapes; he had fought both for civilization and againstit; had sold his services to native sultans and rajahs, had penetratedinto the most dangerous places, and had met the most extraordinarypeople. Strange to relate, with it all, he had still preserved the airof a gentleman.
"Oxford man?" asked Browne after a moment's pause, without taking hiseyes off the fire, and still speaking in the same commonplace tone.The other mentioned the name of a certain well-known college. Bothfelt that there was no more to be said, and they accordingly relapsedinto silence.
"Rum thing this world of ours, isn't it?" said MacAndrew after a littlewhile. "Look at me. I started with everything in my favour; eldestson, fine old place in the country, best of society; for all I know Imight have ended my days as a J.P. and member for my county. TheFates, however, were against it; in consequence I am sitting hereto-night, disguised as a Russian fur-trader. It's a bit of atransformation scene--isn't it? I wonder what my family would say ifthey could see me?"
"I wonder what some of my friends would say if they could see me?"continued Browne. "If I'd been told a year ago that I should be doingthis sort of thing, I should never have believed it. We never knowwhat's in store for us, do we? By the way, what's the time?" Heconsulted his watch, and discovered that it only wanted ten minutes oftwelve o'clock. "In ten minutes we'll fire the first rocket," he said."It's to be hoped it's clear weather. Let us pray that there's notanother vessel outside, who, seeing our signal, may put in and send aboat to discover what is the matter."
"You're quite sure that the yacht will be there, I suppose?" askedMacAndrew.
"As sure as I can be," replied Browne. "I told my captain to hangabout at night, and to look round this coast at midnight, so that if wedid signal he might be ready. Of course, there's no saying what mayhave turned up; but we must hope for the best. How is our friendyonder?"
MacAndrew crossed the hut and bent over the man lying on the bed. Hewas still sleeping.
"Poor beggar! he is quite played out," said the other. "It will be along time before he will forget his tramp with me. I had to carry himthe last three miles on my back, like a kiddy; and in that thick scrubit's no joke, I can assure you."
Though Browne was quite able to agree with him, he did not give thematter much consideration. He was thinking of Katherine and of themeeting, that was shortly to take place between the father anddaughter. At last, after what seemed an infinity of waiting, the handsof his watch stood at midnight. Having acquainted MacAndrew with hisintention, he took up a rocket, opened the door of the hut, and wentoutside. To his intense relief, the fog had drawn off, and the starswere shining brightly. Not a sound was to be heard, save the sighingof the wind in the trees behind the hut, and the clinking of the ice onthe northern side of the bay. To the southward it was all clear water,and it was there that Mason had arranged to send the boat.
"To be or not to be?" murmured Browne, as he struck the match andapplied it to the rocket. There was an instant's pause, and then atongue of fire flashed into the darkness, soaring up and up, until itbroke in a myriad of coloured lights overhead. It seemed to Browne,while he waited and watched, as if the beating of his heart might beheard at least a mile away. Then suddenly, from far out at sea, came aflash of light, which told him that his signal had been observed.
"They see us," he cried in a tone of delight. "They are getting theboat under way by this time, I expect, and in less than an hour weshall be on board. We had better get ready as soon as possible." Withthat they turned into the hut once more, and MacAndrew shook thesleeping man upon the bed.
"Wake up, little father," he cried in Russian. "It's time for you tosay good-bye to Saghalien."
The instantaneous obedience, which had so long been a habit with him,brought the man to his feet immediately. Browne, however, could seethat he scarcely realized what was required of him.
"Come," said Browne, "it is time for us to be off. Your daughter isanxiously awaiting you."
"Ah, to be sure--to be sure," replied the other in French. "My deardaughter. Forgive me if I do not seem to realize that I shall see herso soon. Is it possible she will know me after all these long years?When last I saw her she was but a little child."
"Her heart, however, is the same," answered Browne. "I can assure youthat she has treasured your memory as few daughters would have done.Indeed, it is to her, more than any one else, that you owe your escape.But for her endeavours you would be in Dui now. But let us be off; weare wasting our time talking here when we should be making ourselvesscarce."
"But what about these things?" asked MacAndrew, pointing to the bookson the table, the crockery on the shelf, and the hundred and one otherthings in the hut. "What do you intend doing with them?"
"I scarcely know," replied Browne. "The better plan would be for us totake with us what we can carry and leave the rest. If they are of noother use, they will at least give whoever finds them something tothink about."
"I wish him joy of his guesses," rejoined MacAndrew, as he led the oldman out of the hut.
Browne remained behind to put out the lamp. As he did so a smilepassed over his face. How foolish it seemed to be taking precautions,when he would, in all human probability, never see the place again!The fire upon the hearth was burning merrily. Little by little itwould grow smaller, the flames would die down, a mass of glowing emberswould follow, then it would gradually grow black, and connection withthe place would be done with for ever and a day. Outside it wasbrilliant starlight, and for this reason they were able easily to picktheir way down the path towards the place where Captain Mason hadpromised to have the boat.
So weak was the old man, however, that it took something like half anhour to overcome even the short distance they had to go. He couldscarcely have done as much had not MacAndrew and Browne lent him theirsupport. At last they reached the water's edge, where, to their joy,they found the boat awaiting them.
"Is that you, Phillips?" inquired Browne.
"Yes, sir, it's me," the third mate replied. "Captain Mason sent usaway directly your signal was sighted."
"That's right," said Browne. "Now, just keep your boat steady while wehelp this gentleman aboard."
The boat's crew did their best to keep her in position while MacAndrewand Browne lifted Monsieur Petrovitch in. It was a difficult business,but at last they succeeded; then, pushing her off, they started for theyacht. For some time not a word was spoken. MacAndrew had evidentlyhis own th
oughts to occupy him; Katherine's father sat in a huddled-upcondition; while Browne was filled with a nervousness that he couldneither explain nor dispel.
At last they reached the yacht and drew up at the foot of theaccommodation-ladder. Looking up the side, Browne could see CaptainMason, Jimmy Foote, and Maas leaning over watching them. It had beenpreviously arranged that the meeting between the father and daughtershould take place in the deckhouse, not on the deck itself.
"Is he strong enough to walk up?" the captain inquired of Browne. "Ifnot, shall I send a couple of hands down to carry him?"
"I think we can manage it between us," said Browne; and accordingly heand MacAndrew, assisted by the mate, lifted the sick man on to theladder, and half-dragged, half-carried him up to the deck above.
"Where is Miss Petrovitch?" Browne asked, when they reached the deck.
"In the house, sir," the captain replied. "We thought she would preferto be alone there. She knows that you have arrived."
"In that case I will take you to her at once," said Browne to the oldman, and slipping his arm through his, he led him towards the place inquestion. When he pushed open the door he assisted the old man toenter; and, having done so, found himself face to face with Katherine.She was deadly pale, and was trembling violently. Madame Bernstein wasalso present; and, if such a thing were possible, the latter wasperhaps the more agitated of the two. Indeed, Browne found his ownvoice failing him as he said, "Katherine, I have brought you yourfather!"
There was a moment's hesitation, though what occasioned it is difficultto say. Then Katherine advanced and kissed her father. She had oftenpictured this moment, and thought of the joy she would feel inwelcoming him back to freedom. Now, however, that the moment hadarrived it seemed as if she could say nothing.
"Father," she faltered at last, "thank Heaven you have escaped." Shelooked at him, and, as she did so, Browne noticed the change that cameover her face. It was as if she had found herself confronted with someone she did not expect to see. And yet she tried hard not to let theothers see her surprise.
"Katherine, my daughter," replied the old man, "do you remember me?"
"Should I be likely to forget?" answered Katherine. "Though I was sucha little child when you went away, I can remember that terrible nightperfectly."
Here Madame Bernstein interposed, with tears streaming down her face."Stefan," she sobbed, "Heaven be thanked you have at last come back tous!"
Thinking it would be as well if he left them to themselves for a shorttime, Browne stepped out of the house on to the deck, and closed thedoor behind him. He found MacAndrew, Maas, and Jimmy Foote standingtogether near the saloon companion-ladder.
"Welcome back again," began Jimmy, advancing with outstretched hand."By Jove! old man, you must have had a hard time of it. But you havesucceeded in your undertaking, and that's the great thing, afterall--is it not?"
"Yes, I have succeeded," returned Browne, in the tone of a man who isnot quite certain whether he has or not. "Now, the question for ourconsideration is, what we ought to do. What do you say, MacAndrew; andyou, Maas?"
"If I were in your place I would get away as soon as possible,"answered the former.
"I agree with you," put in Jimmy. "By Jove! I do."
"I cannot say that I do," added Maas. "In the first place, you mustremember where you are. This is an extremely dangerous coast abouthere, and if anything goes wrong and your boat runs ashore, the man youhave come to rescue will be no better off than he was before. If Iwere in your place, Browne--and I'm sure Captain Mason will agree withme--I should postpone your departure until to-morrow morning. There'snothing like having plenty of daylight in matters of this sort."
Browne scarcely knew what to say. He was naturally very anxious to getaway; at the same time he was quite aware of the dangers of the seas inwhich his boat was, just at that time. He accordingly went forward andargued it out with Mason, whom he found of very much the same opinionas Maas.
"We have not much to risk, sir, by waiting," said that gentleman; "and,as far as I can see, we've everything to gain. A very strong currentsets from the northward; and, as you can see for yourself, a fog iscoming up. I don't mind telling you, sir, I've no fancy formanoeuvring about here in the dark."
"Then you think it would be wiser for us to remain at anchor untildaylight?" asked Browne.
"If you ask me to be candid with you," the skipper replied, "I must sayI do, sir."
"Very good, then," answered Browne. "In that case we will remain."Without further discussion, he made his way to the smoking-room, wherehe announced to those assembled there, that the yacht would not getunder way till morning.
"'Pon my word, Browne, I think you're right," continued Maas. "Youdon't want to run any risks, do you? You'll be just as safe here, ifnot safer, than you would be outside."
"I'm not so sure of that," retorted Jimmy; and then, for some reasonnot specified, a sudden silence fell upon the party.
A quarter of an hour later Browne made his way to the deck-house again.He found Katherine and her father alone together, the man fast asleepand the girl kneeling by his side.
"Dearest," said Katherine softly, as she rose and crossed the cabin tomeet her lover, "I have not thanked you yet for all you have donefor--for him and for me."
She paused towards the end of her speech, as if she scarcely knew howto express herself; and Browne, for whom her every action had somesignificance, was quick to notice it.
"What is the matter, dear?" he asked. "Why do you look so sadly at me?"
She was about to answer, but she changed her mind.
"Sad?" she murmured, as if surprised. "Why should I be sad? I shouldsurely be the happiest girl in the world to-night."
"But you are not," he answered. "I can see you're unhappy. Come,dear, tell me everything. You are grieved, I suppose, at finding yourfather so changed? Is not that so?"
"Partly," she answered in a whisper; and then, for some reason of herown, she added quietly, "but Madame recognised him at once, though shehad not seen him for so many years. My poor father, how much he hassuffered!"
Browne condoled with her, and ultimately succeeded in inducing her toretire to her cabin, assuring her that MacAndrew and himself would inturns watch by her father's side until morning.
"How good you are!" she said, and kissed him softly. Then, withanother glance at the huddled-up figure in the easy-chair, but withoutkissing him, as Browne had quite expected she would do, she turned andleft the cabin.
It was just two o'clock, and a bitterly cold morning. Though Brownehad declared that MacAndrew would share his vigil with him, he was nottelling the truth, knowing that the other must be worn out after histravels of the last few days. For this reason he persuaded Jimmy totake him below, and to get him to bed at once. Then he himselfreturned to the deck-house, and set to work to make Katherine's fatheras comfortable as possible for the night.
Just after daylight Browne was awakened by a knocking at the door. Hecrossed and opened it. It proved to be the captain. He was plainlyunder the influence of intense excitement.
"I don't know how to tell you, sir," he said. "I assure you I wouldnot have had it happened for worlds. I have never been so upset in mylife by anything."
"But what has happened?" inquired Browne, with a sudden sinking at hisheart. "Something has gone wrong in the engine-room," replied thecaptain, "and until it has been repaired it will be impossible for usto get under way."
At that instant the second officer appeared, and touched the captain onthe shoulder, saying something in an undertone.
"What is it?" asked Browne. "What else is wrong?"
"He reports that a man-o'-war can be just descried upon the horizon,and he thinks she is a Russian!"