Hurricane Island by H. B. Marriott Watson (free novels to read .TXT) 📕

in a heavy obstinate fashion he had.

"What's that to you?"

"Only this," said I, "that my life is as valuable to me as yours or the Prince's to you or him, and that therefore I have a right to know."

He laughed shortly. "I'm commanding officer."

"Oh, I'm sick of these airs!" I replied. "If you will not answer me, I will go to the Prince and get an answer from him. He, at least, will see the reasonableness of my request for information."

He changed his attitude at that. "You needn't do that, Phillimore," said he. "I can tell you all you need know. After all, as you say, you've a certain right." He looked at me with his hard unfriendly look, and I met him with one of expectancy. "You know what my opinion is," he resumed. "It's only a bluff to say that we have a chance against Holgate. He's got the ship, and he's got the men. I want to see if we can't make some arrangement."

"And he will?" I inquired sceptically.

Barraclough hesitated. "He's inclined to. He's to let me know. I think he's a bit impressed by our bluff all the same, and if we could hit on a suitable middle course----" He stopped. "Hang it, there are the women, Phillimore!" he said vehemently.

"And you suppose Holgate will take them into consideration?" I said. "Well, perhaps he may. I don't think either you or I really know much of Holgate. But I think I know more than you. He's sociable and friendly, isn't he? One wouldn't take him for a rascally mutineer."

"He's a most infernal ruffian," said he with an oath.

"Yet you would trust him in the matter of terms," I suggested.

Barraclough frowned. "We've got to," he said curtly, "unless you can show me a way to hold out."

"Oh! men have been in worse cases than ours and emerged all right--a little battered, no doubt. And then there's the coal. We can't cruise indefinitely. Holgate's got to put in somewhere."

"Oh, he's not going to wait for that!" said Barraclough moodily. "Look here, Phillimore; have you a guess at what he means to do?"

"I have about ten guesses," I replied, shaking my head, "and none of them fits the case. What's he going to do with us? That's his real difficulty and ours. The money problem's simple. I can't see what's at the back of that black mind, but I don't think it's hopeful for us--women included."

"There you are," he exploded savagely. "Anything if we can prevent the worst."

"Yes," I assented. "Provided you can trust to Holgate's word. But would he let us off at any price and run the risk? And, moreover, the Prince. What of him?"

"He would refuse. He wouldn't budge. He's a nuisance," said Barraclough moodily. "He's our stumbling-block."

"Quite so; and if we all caved in but Mr. Morland, what must his fate be? And we should look on, shouldn't we? And then go home in a tramp steamer, a happy family party with a nice little secret of our own. Ten, twelve, well, say, sixteen of us. I can see Holgate trusting to that, and comfortably lolling back in Yokohama deck-chairs; and I can also see Sir John Barraclough reporting the total loss of the yacht _Sea Queen_, captain and owner and so-and-so going down with her. I can read it all in the papers here, and now; it will be excellent food for the ha'pennies!"

The frown deepened on his face as I proceeded, but, contrary to my expectation, he did not display any temper at my mocking speech. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll admit the difficulties. It looks like impossibility, but so's the alternative. I'm in despair."

"There's only one thing will solve the problem," I said. He looked up. "Action."

"You mean----"

"Holgate won't wait till his coal's out. He's free for an attack now."

"In God's name, let him!" said Barraclough viciously.


CHAPTER XV

THE FIGHT IN THE MUSIC-ROOM

The _Sea Queen_ was making way on her northerly course athwart the long rollers of the Pacific. The wind blew briskly from the west, and the sea ran high, so that the yacht lay over with a strong list as she battled through the rough water. My watch began at twelve o'clock that night, and I took the precaution to lie down for a rest about eight. I fell asleep to the sound of the sea against my porthole window, but awoke in good time. It was full dark, and, save for the screw and the eternal long wash without, there was silence. Somehow the very persistence of these sounds seemed profounder silence. I groped my way into the passage, with the screw kicking under my feet, and passed Barraclough's cabin. Still there was no sound or sign of life, but I perceived the glimmer of a light beyond, and seeing that it issued from Pye's cabin I turned the handle of the door. It was locked.

"Who is that?" demanded a tremulous voice.

"It's I. Let me in," I called back.

The door was opened slowly and little Pye stood before me. In the illumination of the incandescent wire he stood out ghastly white.

"It's you, doctor," he said weakly.

The smell of spirits pervaded the cabin. I looked across and saw a tumbler in the rack, half full of whisky and water. He noticed the direction of my gaze.

"I can't sleep," said he. "This heavy water has given me a touch of sea-sickness. I feel awfully queer."

"I don't suppose whisky will do you any good," said I.

He laughed feebly and vacantly. "Oh, but it does! It stays the stomach. Different people are affected different ways, doctor." As he spoke he took down the glass with quivering fingers and drank from it in a clumsy gulp.

"I shall be better if I can get to sleep," he said nervously, and drank again.

"Pye, you're making trouble for yourself," said I. "You'll be pretty bad before morning."

"Oh, for goodness' sake, don't talk about morning!" he broke out in a fit of terror.

I gazed at him in astonishment, and he tried to recover under my eyes.

"That's not your first glass," said I.

He did not deny it. "I can't go on without it. Let me alone, doctor; for heaven's sake let me alone."

I gave him up. "Well, if you are going to obfuscate yourself in this foolish manner," I said, my voice disclosing my contempt, "at least take my advice and don't lock yourself in. None but hysterical women do that."

I was closing the door when he put a hand out.

"Doctor, doctor...." I paused, and he looked at me piteously. "Could you give me a sleeping draught?"

"If you'll leave that alone, I will," I said; and I returned to my cabin and brought some sulphonal tabloids.

"This will do you less harm than whisky," I said. "Now buck up and be a man, Pye."

He thanked me and stood looking at me. His hands nervously adjusted his glasses on his nose. He took one of the tabloids and shakily lifted his whisky and water to wash it down his throat. He coughed and sputtered, and with a shiver turned away from me. He lifted the glass again and drained it.

"Good-bye, doctor--good-night, I mean," he said hoarsely, with his back still to me. "I'm all right. I think I shall go to sleep now."

"Well, that's wise," said I, "and I'll look in and see how you go on when my watch is over."

He started, turned half-way to me and stopped. "Right you are," he said, with a struggle after cheerfulness. His back was still to me. He had degrading cowardice in his very appearance. Somehow I was moved to pat him on the shoulder.

"That's all right, man. Get to sleep."

For answer he broke into tears and blubbered aloud, throwing himself face downwards on his bunk.

"Come, Pye!" said I. "Why, what's this, man?"

"I'm a bit upset," he said, regaining some control of himself. "I think the sea-sickness has upset me. But I'm all right." He lay on his face, and was silent. And so (for I was due now in the corridor) I left him. As I turned away, I could have sworn I heard the key click in the door. He had locked himself in again.

Lane was on duty at the farther end of the corridor, and I had the door near the entrance connecting with the music balcony. Two electric lights shed a faint glow through the length and breadth of the corridor, and over all was silence. As I sat in my chair, fingering my revolver, my thoughts turned over the situation helplessly, and swung round finally to the problem of Barraclough and Mademoiselle. The Princess and I had guessed what was forward, and Lane also had an inkling. Only the Prince was ignorant of the signal flirtation which was in progress under his nose. I suppose such a woman could not remain without victims. It did not suffice for her that she had captured a prince of the blood, had dislocated the policy of a kingdom, and had ruined a man's life. She must have other trophies of her beauty, and Barraclough was one. I was sorry for him, though I cannot say that I liked him. The dull, unimaginative and wholesome Briton had toppled over before the sensuous arts of the French beauty. His anxiety was for her. He had not shown himself timorous as to the result before. Doubtless she had infected him with her fears. Possibly, even, it was at the lady's suggestion that he had made advances to Holgate.

Suddenly my thoughts were diverted by a slight noise, and, looking round, I saw Lane advancing swiftly towards me.

"I say, Phillimore," he said in a hoarse whisper, "I've lost the key."

"Key!" I echoed. "What key?" For I did not at once take in his meaning.

"Why, man, the purser's key--the key of the strong room," he said impatiently.

I gazed in silence at him. "But you must have left it below," I said at last.

"Not I," he answered emphatically. "I'm no juggins. They're always on me. I go to bed in them, so to speak. See here." He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket. "This is how I keep 'em--on my double chain. They don't leave me save at nights when I undress. Well, it's gone, and I'm damned if I know when it went or how it went."

He gazed, frowning deeply at his bunch.

"That's odd," I commented.

"It puts me in a hole," said he. "How the mischief can I have lost it? I can't think how it can have slipped off. And it's the only one gone, too."

"It didn't slip off," said I. "It's been stolen."

He looked at me queerly. "That makes it rather worse, old chap," he said hesitatingly. "For it don't go out of my hands."

"Save at night," said I.

He was silent. "Hang it, what does any blighter want to steal it for?" he demanded in perplexity.

"Well, we know what's in the strong room," I said.

"Yes--but----" There was a sound.

"To your door," said I. "Quick, man."

Lane sped along the corridor to his station, and just as he reached it a door opened and Princess Alix emerged. She hesitated for