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  CHAPTER VI

  BETWEEN THE BRAZILIAN DEVIL AND THE DEEP ATLANTIC

  There was an awkward pause. Coke, rascal though he was, andpot-bellied withal, was no Falstaff. Rather did he suggest thepresent-day atavism of some robber baron of the Middle Ages, whosehectoring speech bubbled forth from a stout heart. But the raggedex-President heeded him not. After a moment of placid scrutiny of hisenraged countenance by those bright, watchful eyes, Coke might havebeen non-existent so far as recognition of his outburst was apparentduring the sonorous discussion that ensued between Dom Corria AntonioDe Sylva and the Senor Capitano Salvador De San Benavides.

  The latter, it is true, betrayed excitement. At first he favored Iriswith a deprecatingly admiring glance, as one who would say, "Dear lady,accept my profound regret and respectful homage." But that phasequickly passed. His leader was not a man to waste words, and thegallant captain's expressive face soon showed that he had grasped theessential facts. They did not please him. In fact, he was distinctlycowed, almost stunned, by his companion's revelations.

  It fell to De Sylva to explain matters to his unexpected guests.

  "My friend agrees with me that it is only fair that the exact positionshould be revealed to you," he said, addressing Coke, though adignified gesture invited the others to share his confidence.

  "It don't take much tellin'," began Coke. De Sylva silenced him withan emphatic hand.

  "Please attend. The situation is not so simple as you seem to imagine.The loss of your ship cannot be dealt with here. It raises issues ofinternational law which can only be settled by courts and governments.You know, I suppose, that nothing will be done until a complaint islodged by a British minister, and that hinges upon the very doubtfulfact that you will ever again see your own country."

  The ex-President certainly had the knack of expressing himself clearly.Those concluding words rang like a knell. They even called Watts backfrom the slumber of unconsciousness; the "chief" stirred himself wherehe lay on the floor of the cavern, and began to quaver.

  "----twelve old salts an' the skipper's lass Marooned in the Spanish Main, O. Sing hay----"

  Coke, taken by surprise, was unable to stop this warbling earlier. Buthis hand clutched Watts's shoulder, and his venomous whisper of "Shutup, you ijjit!" was so unmistakable that the lyric ceased.

  De Sylva seemed to be aware of some peculiarity in the symptoms of thewounded man's recovery, but he continued speaking in the same balancedtone.

  "It happens, by idle chance, that my enemies have become yours. Themen who destroyed your ship thought they were injuring me. I have justpointed out to Capitano De San Benavides the precise outcome of thisattack. Until a few moments ago we shared the delusion that the troopson Fernando de Noronha believed we were now on our way to a Brazilianport. We were mistaken. More than that, we know now that they haveobtained news--probably through a traitor to our cause--of the_Andros-y-Mela's_ voyage. They were prepared for her coming. They hadmade arrangements to receive her--almost at the place decided on by ourfriends in Brazil. It is more than likely that the _Andros-y-Mela_ isnow lying under the guns of some coast fortress, since the presence oftroops and cannon on this side of the island is unprecedented."

  "I don't see wot all this 'as to do with me," blurted out Cokedeterminedly.

  "No. It would not concern you in the least if you were safe at sea.But, since you are here, it does concern you most gravely. From onepoint of view, you served my cause well by preparing to lower a boat.You misled my persecutors as to locality, at least. Of course, I sawyou, and thought you were mad, but your action did help to conceal fromthe soldiers the secret of my true hiding-place. I wish to be candidwith you. If my friends and I had realized that you were here byaccident, we ought to have taken no steps to save you."

  "Really!" snarled Coke, eying the unruffled Brazilian much as anAndulusian bull might glare at a picador. A buzz of angry whisperingcame from the crew. Even Iris flashed a disdainful glance at the manwho uttered this atrocious sentiment. De Sylva raised his hand. Hepermitted himself the luxury of a wintry smile.

  "Pray, do not misunderstand me," he said. "I am humane as most others,but it is difficult to decide whether or not mere humanity, settingaside self-interest, would not rather condemn you to the speedy deathof the wreck than drag you to the worse fate that awaits you here. Andplease remember that we did succor you, thus risking observation and avisit by the troops when the sea permits a landing. But that is notthe true issue. An hour ago there were four people on this barerock--four of us who looked for escape to-night. We were supplied withsuch small necessaries of existence as would enable us to live if ourrescuers were delayed for a day, or even two. Now, there will be norescue. We are--" he looked slowly around--"twenty instead of four;but we have the same quantity of stores, which consist of ahalf-emptied skin of wine, a bunch of bananas, a few scraps of maizebread, and some strips of dried meat. Do you follow me?"

  Coke, who had been holding Watts in a sitting posture by a firm grip onhis collar, allowed the limp figure to sprawl headlong again. Hewanted to plunge both hands deeply into his trousers pockets, becausemen of his type associate attitude so closely with thought that the oneis apt to become almost dependent on the other. And so, for themoment, the safeguarding of Watts was of no consequence. But Watts hadbenefited much by the sousing of the spray, while his recovery wasexpedited by the forcible ejection of the salt water he had swallowed.He raised himself on one hand, and looked about with an inquiring eye.The Brazilian officer's uniform seemed to fascinate him.

  "'Ello!" he gurgled. "Run in? Well I'm----"

  "Is not that man wounded? I thought I saw him dashed against therocks," said De Sylva.

  "'E ought to be," said Coke, "but 'e's on'y drunk. A skin o' rum, 'arfempty, too, just like your skin o' wine, mister."

  "Let him be taken outside and gagged if he resists."

  There was an uneasy movement among the men. Their common impulse wasto obey. Coke spread his feet a little apart.

  "Leave 'im alone. 'E'll do no 'arm now," he said.

  "I cannot be interrupted," cried De Sylva, whose iron self-restraintseemed to be yielding before British truculence.

  "I'll keep 'im quiet but I can't 'ave 'im roasted afore 'is time, an'that's wot's 'ul 'appen if you tied him up in that gulley."

  "Thanke'ee, skipper. You allus were a reel pal," murmured Watts.

  Coke bent over him.

  "If your tongue don't stop waggin' it'll soon be stickin' out betweenyer teeth," he hissed. "This ain't no fancy lock-up in the East InjiaDock Road, Arthur, me boy. They won't bring you a pint of cocoa 'ere,an' ax if you're comfortable. You 'aven't long to live accordin' toall accounts, so just close your mouth an' open your ears, an' mebbeyou'll know w'y."

  De Sylva regained his self-possession with a rapidity that wassignificant. He had not climbed to the presidential chair of theRepublic from a clerkship in the London Embassy of the Empire withoutacquiring the habit of estimating his fellow men speedily andaccurately. Here was one who might be led, but would never permithimself to be driven. Moreover, this dethroned ruler was by way ofbeing a philosopher.

  "I hate drunkards," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You cannottrust them. If I had been surrounded by trustworthy men, I shouldnot----"

  He broke off. There was a sound of hurrying footsteps on the steeppathway. A figure, clad in rags that surpassed even De Sylva's,appeared in the entrance. A brief colloquy took place. De Sylva'seager questions were answered in monosyllables, or the nearest approachthereto.

  "Marcel tells me that one of your boats is drifting away with a manlying in the bottom," came the uneasy explanation.

  Coke's face showed a degree of surprise, which, in his case, was almostinvariably akin to disbelief, but an exclamation from Hozier drew alleyes.

  "Good Lord!" he cried, "that must be the lifeboat I was trying to clearwhen the ship struck. Macfarlane was helping me, bu
t he was hit by abullet and dropped across the thwarts. I thought he was dead!"

  "Dead or alive, he is better off than we," said De Sylva. Hequestioned Marcel again briefly. "There can be no doubt that the manin the boat cast off the lashings when he found that the ship wassinking," he continued in English. "Marcel saw him doing that, andwondered why he was alone. At any rate, if he is carried beyond thereef, he has a fighting chance. We have none."

  "Why not? Are these men on the island so deaf to human sympathies thatthey would murder all of us in cold blood?"

  The girl's sweet, low-pitched voice sounded inexpressibly sad in thatvaulted place. Even De Sylva's studied control gave way before itsmusic. He uttered some anguished appeal to the deity in his owntongue, and flung out his hands impulsively.

  "What would you have me say?" he cried, and his eyes blazed, while thescar on his forehead darkened with the gust of passion that swept overhis strong features. "I might lie to you, and try to persuade you thatwe can exist here without food or water, whereas to-morrow, or next dayat the utmost, will see most of us dead. But in a few hours you willrealize what it means to be kept on this bare rock under a tropicalsun. You can do one thing. Your party greatly outnumbers mine. Climbto the top-most pinnacle and signal to the island. You will soon beseen."

  He laughed with a savage irony that was not good to hear, but Cokecaught at the suggestion.

  "Even that is better'n tearin' one another like mad dogs," he growled."I know wot's comin'. I've seen it wonst."

  Hozier made for the exit, where Marcel stood, irresolute, apparentlywaiting for orders.

  "Where are you going?" demanded De Sylva.

  "To see what is becoming of the lifeboat."

  "Better not. You cannot help your friend, and the instant it becomesknown to the troops that there is a living soul on the Grand-pere rockthey will come in a steam launch and shoot everyone at sight."

  "Will that be the answer to our signal?"

  It was Iris who asked the question, and the Brazilian's voice softenedagain.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Why, then, do you advise us to seek our own destruction?"

  He bowed. His manner was almost humble.

  "It is the easier way," he murmured.

  "Is there no other?"

  "None--unless we attack two hundred soldiers with sticks, and stones,and three revolvers, and a sword."

  Hozier came back. He had merely stepped a pace or two into thesunlight. Through the northerly dip of the gulley he had seen theship's boat whirled past an islet by the fierce current. Macfarlanewas not visible. Perhaps that was better so. At any rate, the sightof the small craft vanishing behind one of the island barriers broughthome with telling force the predicament of those who remained. Nowthat the sheer frenzy of the wreck had relaxed, Philip's head was liketo split with the throbbing anguish of the blow he had received. Buthis mind was clearer. De Sylva's words, amplifying his own vaguerecollection of the scene on board the _Andromeda_, enabled him toconstruct a picture of events as they were. And his blood boiled whenhe thought of Iris, snatched many times from death, only to face itonce more in the ravening form of starvation and thirst.

  "Attack!" he said hoarsely. "How is that possible? A deep and widechannel separates us from the main island."

  The Brazilian, who seemed to have argued himself into a state of stoicdespair, gave a startling answer.

  "We have a boat, a sort of boat," he said quietly.

  "How many will it hold?"

  "Three, in a smooth sea, and with skilled handling. It nearlyoverturned when I and two others crossed from the island, a distance ofthree hundred yards."

  "But we have ropes, clothes, perhaps some few pieces of wreckage. Cannothing be done to repair it?"

  "Meaning that we draw lots to see who shall endeavor to escapeto-night?"

  "The men might even do that."

  "Ah, yes--the men, of course. I think it hopeless. But, try it! Yes,certainly, try it!"

  A pause, more eloquent than the most impassioned speech, showed howthis frail straw, eddying in the vortex of their fate, might yet beclutched at. San Benavides, trying vainly to guess what was beingsaid, blurted forth an anxious inquiry. His compatriot explainedbriefly. Somehow, the measured cadence of their talk had a lessreliable sound than the vigorous Anglo-Saxon. They were both bravemen. They had not scrupled to risk their lives in an enterprise wheresuccess beckoned even doubtingly. But they were lacking when all thatremained to be settled was how best to die; in such an hour the men ofan English speaking race will ever choose a fighting death.

  This time, it was a woman who decided.

  Iris rose to her feet. She brushed back the strands of damp hair fromher face, and with deft hands made a rough-and-ready coil of herabundant tresses.

  "Are you planning to send me with two others adrift in a boat, whileseventeen men are left here?" she asked.

  The Brazilian ceased speaking. There was another uneasy pause. Hozierfelt that the question was addressed to him, but he was tongue-tied,almost shame-faced. Coke, however, did not shirk the task ofenlightening her.

  "Something like that," he said. "We can't let you cut in with the restof us, missy. That wouldn't be reasonable. But it's best to fix thebusiness fair an' square. We ain't agoin' to try any other way, not solong as _I'm_ skipper," and he looked with brutal frankness at De Sylvaand the anxious but uncomprehending San Benavides.

  The ex-President knew what he meant; even in his despondency heresented the implied slur on his good faith.

  "You cannot examine the boat until darkness sets in," he said. "Thenyou will find out how frail a foundation you are building on. It isabsolutely ridiculous to assume that she can be made seaworthy. Heroccupants would be drowned before they were clear of the islands."

  "In any case, I refuse to go," said Iris.

  De Sylva smiled gloomily.

  "You are courageous, senhora, and, in some respects, you are wise," hesaid. "Yet . . . I must admit it . . . I would urge you to select theboat--in preference . . ."

  Marcel, the Brazilian who had come to tell them of the driftinglife-boat, turned away from the mouth of the cavern, and scrambled downthe ravine.

  "Wot's 'e after?" demanded Coke, suddenly suspicious.

  "He and Domingo are keeping a lookout," said De Sylva. "If thesoldiers intend to visit us we should at least be warned. The boat ishidden among the rocks on the landward side," he added, not without atouch of scorn.

  "That man has taught us our own duty," cried Iris. "The boat thatbrought these men to this rock can bring nineteen men and a woman toFernando Noronha. We must land there to-night. With those to guide uswho know the coast, surely that should be possible. We have a right tostruggle for our lives. We, of the _Andromeda_, at least, have done nowrong to the cruel wretches who sought to kill us without mercy to-day.Why should we not endeavor to defend ourselves? There is food there,and guns in plenty. Let us take them. Above all, let us not dream ofany such useless device as this proposal to send three to drownsomewhere in the sea and leave seventeen to perish miserably here. Weare in God's hands. Let us trust to Him, but while doing that fullyand fearlessly, we must seek life, not death."

  "Bully for you, miss!" roared a sailor, and a growl of admiration rangthrough the cave. Instantly a hubbub of talk showed how intent thecrew had been on the previous discussion, but Coke shouted them intosilence.

  "Oo axed wot _you_ think, you swabs?" he bellowed. "Stow your lip!Sink me, if you don't all do as you're bid, an' keep still tongues inyour 'eds, I'll want to know w'y--P.D.Q."

  A big, blond Norwegian, Hans Olsen by name, strode forward. Unlike theusual self-contained Norseman, he was reputed a "sea-lawyer" in theforecastle.

  "We haf somedings ter zay for our lifes, yez," he protested. Coke bentand butted him violently in the stomach with his head. The man crashedagainst the rocky wall, and sat dazed where he had fallen.

  "You've got to obey
orders--savvy?" growled Coke.

  "Yez," gasped Olsen, evidently fearing a further assault.

  The incident ended. Its outstanding feature was the amazing activitydisplayed by the burly skipper, who had rammed his man before the bigfellow could lift a finger. It might be expected that Iris would showsome sign of dismay, owing to this unlooked-for violence. But she wasnow beyond the reach of merely feminine emotions. She had protestedagainst the kicking of Watts because it seemed to lack motive, becauseWatts was helpless, and because she herself was half-delirious at thetime. Olsen's attitude, on the other hand, hinted at mutiny, andmutiny must be repressed at any cost.

  De Sylva's incisive accents helped to bridge a moment fraught withpossibilities, for it would be idle to assume that this polyglotgathering was composed of Bayards. Self-preservation is apt to provestronger than chivalry under such circumstances. Let it be assumedthat three among the twenty could escape that night, and it washorribly true that the field of selection might be narrowed by awild-beast struggle long before the sun went down.

  "The young lady has at least given us a project," he said. "It is adesperate one, Heaven knows! It offers a fantastic chance, and I cansee no other, but--what can we do without arms?"

  "Use our heads," put in Hozier. He had not the slightest intention ofmaking a light-hearted joke at that crisis in their affairs, but hehappened to look at Coke, and an involuntary smile gleamed through thecrust of clotted blood and perspiration that gave his good-looking facea most sinister aspect. The Irishman cackled with laughter.

  "Begob, that's wan for the skipper," he crowed; then some of the othersgrinned, and the _Andromeda's_ little company stood four-square againto the winds of adversity. Having blundered into prominence, thesecond mate was quick to see that he must hammer home the facts, thoughin more serious vein.

  "Bring us to the island, Senhor De Sylva," he said, "and we will make afight of it. In any case, even if we fail, they will not deliberatelykill a woman. There must be other women there who will intervene inbehalf of one of their own sex. But we may succeed. It is improbablethat the whole of the troops will be gathered in one spot. Why shouldwe not take some small detachment by surprise and secure their weapons?If we can land unobserved, we ought to be able to drop on themapparently from the skies. I take it that the presence here of CaptainSan Benavides is unknown, and the leadership of an officer in theenemy's own uniform should turn the scale in our favor. Have you nofollowers among the troops or islanders? Suppose we make good ourfirst attack, and seize a strong position--isn't it probable we mayreceive assistance from your partisans?"

  "Perhaps--among the convicts," was De Sylva's grim reply.

  "No officials, or soldiers?"

  "Not one. They are chosen for this service on account of theiranimosity against the former Government. How else could you accountfor their treatment of unarmed men on a ship crippled by their firstshell?"

  "You spoke of a steam launch. Where is that kept?"

  "At a wharf under the walls of the citadel which commands the town andanchorage."

  "Assuming we have a stroke of luck and rush some outpost, would it bepossible to cross the island before dawn and board the launch or someother craft in which we can put to sea?"

  "There is only the launch, and some small fishing catamarans. No otherboats are allowed to exist on the island, in order to prevent theescape of convicts. The boat we possess is really a badly-constructedcatamaran, without a sail, and minus the out-rigger which alone rendersit safe for the shortest voyage."

  "Wy didn't you say that sooner, mister?" put in Coke. "If some ofthese jokers knew wot sort of craft it was, mebbe it wouldn't 'aveneeded a shove in the stommick to bring Hans Olsen to heel."

  "I am sorry," said De Sylva. "You see, I realized the utter folly oftrying to escape in that fashion."

  The two men looked each other squarely in the eye. The ex-President ofa great republic and the master of a worn-out tramp steamer were bothborn leaders of men. Whatsoever prospect of a cabal existedpreviously, it was scotched now, beyond doubt. Henceforth, no matterwhat ills threatened, surely the little army mustered on the Grand-pererock would stand or fall together!

  An unerring token of unity was forthcoming at once.

  "Please, miss, an' gents all, may we smoke?" pleaded a voice.

  Iris was for an immediate permission, but De Sylva shook his head.

  "Not until the tide falls," he said. "There is a very real fear of avisit from the launch. It has passed this spot four times during thepast two days--ever since my absence was discovered, in fact. Thesoldiers have searched every outlying island, but they have avoidedGrand-pere because it is believed that a landing is highly dangerous ifnot quite impracticable. My friend Marcel, a fisherman, discovered byaccident the only safe means of reaching the path which winds round theisland. Happily, the wretch who betrayed the mission of the_Andros-y-Mela_ did not know the secret of my refuge. And I see nowthat the Governor must be convinced that I am still hiding among thecliffs, or your vessel would not have appeared off South Point thismorning. No, there must be no smoking as yet. In this clear air theslightest cloud might be seen rising above the rocks from without."

  Marcel reappeared at the entrance. With him was another man, whomHozier remembered seeing when he was hauled up from the ship with Iris.

  "Ah, I was not mistaken," went on De Sylva. "Here comes news of thelaunch! They have signaled for it across the island."

  Marcel entered the cave with an expressive gesture, for long habit hadalmost robbed him of his native vivacity. His companion, Domingo,climbed the opposite wall of the ravine and stretched himself at fulllength in a niche where there was room for a man to lie. Some tufts ofrough grass grew there in sufficient density to conceal his head whilehe peered between the stalks. They could see him quite plainly, but noone wanted to speak. Though the unceasing wash of a heavy swellagainst the rocks would have drowned the noise had they shouted inunison, there was no need to tell anyone present that a very real anddangerous crisis had arrived. The slow change in the direction ofDomingo's gaze showed the approach and passing of the hostile vessel.It was evident that a long halt was made in the channel close to thewreck, of which some fragments remained above water. Still, curiouslyenough, it was impossible for those on board the launch to read theship's name, since the word "_Andromeda_," twice embossed on the sharpcut-water, was hidden by the jutting rocks on both sides of the cleft.

  But it was not the fear of instant death following on the discoverythat the Grand-pere islet was inhabited that kept tongues mute and earson the alert during a quarter of an hour that seemed to be protractedto a quarter of a day. At present they were shut off from hostilebullets by the walls of a fortress stronger than any that could bebuilt by men's hands. The greater danger was that the enemy'ssuspicions might be aroused. Let those who held Fernando Noronha withthe armed forces of Brazil once come to regard the isolated rock in midchannel as providing even a possible refuge for the ex-President andhis friends, and it would mean the complete overthrow of the slenderchance of saving their lives that still offered itself.

  So they waited in silence, watching the rigid figure of the prostrateBrazilian, just as those among them who were saved from the _Andromeda_had watched the arch of spray and spindrift from the slowly sinkingforecastle.

  At last Domingo turned his head slightly, and gave them a reassuringlittle nod. He said something, which De Sylva translated.

  "They have a photograph of the wreck," he said, "and are now steamingthrough the northerly channel to the anchorage on the west side of theisland. Most fortunately, they do not seem to be aware of yourdrifting boat."

  Then he added, with a courtliness that was so incongruous with hisunkempt appearance and patched and tattered garments;--"If the Senhorapermits, the men may smoke now. In another hour the channel will notbe navigable. We have a hot and tiring day before us, and I advisesleep for those to whom it is vouchsafed. If the weather contin
ues toimprove, the next tide will bring us a smooth sea. Given that, and adark night--well--we may make history. Who knows?"