Hurricane Island, H. B. Marriott Watson [books for 7th graders .txt] 📗

looked out upon profound darkness.

I knew my way about the yacht by that time, and was not discomposed by the situation. The mutineer and his treacherous confederate were gone, and I must make the best of my time to follow them. Nothing could be effected without a light, and I had no means of procuring one in those nether regions. I retraced my way more or less by instinct until I came out at the foot of the stairway, and knew it was easy to regain the upper regions. Instead of going to the _boudoir_, I sought the group in the music-room, and was challenged by Barraclough.

"Who's that?"

"Phillimore," I answered. "We must have more light. Have we no more lanterns?"

"Yes, sir," said Ellison's cheerful voice. "There's some in the steward's room."

"Good for you," said I. "If some one will give me matches I think I'll go on a hunt."

The other sailor produced a box of vestas from his pocket, and as he was unwounded I took him with me on my return journey. In the steward's room we found several lanterns, as well as some bottles of beer and some cold fowl. We made a selection from this and got safely back to our friends. Here we lit two or three of the lanterns, and I opened some of the beer and left them to a repast. You will be thinking that I had not kept my word, and had neglected what should have been my prime duty. I had not forgotten, however. Was it likely? And I made haste at once to the quarters of the ladies, taking with me something which should make me welcome--which was a lighted lantern. Princess Alix was quite recovered, but showed great anxiety for news of her brother. I was able to quiet her fears by describing the supper at which I had left him, and her eyes brightened.

"He is so good and brave!" she said simply. "He is so noble! He has always thought of others."

That the Prince was fond of his sister was manifest, and it was patent, too, that he was attached to the woman for whom he had thrown all away and was thus imperilled. Yet I should not have attributed to him inordinate unselfishness. I made no reply, however, beyond urging her to follow her brother's example and fortify herself with food. She waved it aside.

"No, no, I am not hungry! I am only anxious," she said. "Tell me, are we safe?"

"For the present," I said. "I gather that most of the mutineers are at the pumps."

"Then we are sinking?" she cried.

"It does not follow," I answered. "Holgate has his own hand to play, and he will play it. We are safe just now. God answered your prayers, Princess."

She looked me earnestly in the face and sighed.

"Yes," she said softly.

Meanwhile I discovered that Mademoiselle had picked up her spirits. She complained of the noise, of the darkness, and of the lack of sleep, but she found some compensations, now that it was clear that we were not going to the bottom.

"It was magnificent, Monsieur, that storm!" she exclaimed. "I could see the demons raging in it. Oh, _ciel_! It was like the terrors of the Erl Koenig, yes. But what have you there, doctor? Oh, it is beer, English beer. I am tired of champagne. Give me some beer. I love the bocks. It calls to mind the boulevards. Oh, the boulevards, that I shall not see, never, never in my life!"

I consoled her, comforting her with the assurance that we were nearer the boulevards now than we had been a few hours ago, which in a way was true enough. She inquired after the Prince pleasantly, also after Barraclough, and asked with cheerful curiosity when we were going to land.

I said I hoped it would be soon, but she was content with her new toy, which was English bottled ale, and I left her eating daintily and sipping the foam from her toilette glass with satisfaction. I returned to the music-room and joined the company; and, after a little, silence fell upon us, and I found myself drift into the slumber of the weary.

I awoke with the grey dawn streaming in by the shattered skylights, and, sitting up, looked about me. My companions were all wrapped in slumber, Lane tossing restlessly with the pain of his wound. I walked to the door and looked out. The sea had gone down, and now lapped and washed along the sides of the _Sea Queen_. The sky was clear, and far in the east were the banners of the morning. The gentle air of the dawn was grateful to my flesh and stimulated my lungs. I opened my chest to draw it in, and then, recrossing the lobby, I peered out through the windows on the port side. The dim loom of land saluted my eyes, and nearer still a precipice of rocks, by which the seafowl were screaming. We had gone ashore on some sort of island.

This discovery relieved one of the anxieties that had weighed upon me. At last we had a refuge not only from the violence and treachery of the ocean, but also from the murderous ruffians who had possession of the yacht. It was, therefore, with a lighter heart that I descended into the cabins and made my way along the passage to the point where I had seen Holgate and Pye stop. I identified the door which they had opened, and after a little manoeuvring I succeeded in getting it open. It was the cook's pantry in which I now found myself, and I proceeded to examine carefully every drawer and every cupboard by the meagre light of the dawn. I had not been at work ten minutes before I came upon the contents of the safes, safely stowed in a locker. Well, if the documents and gold could be shifted once they could be shifted again; and forthwith I set about the job. It pleased me (I know not why) to choose no other place than Pye's cabin in which to rehide them. I think the irony of the choice decided me upon it, and also it was scarcely likely that Holgate and his accomplice would think of looking for the treasure in the latter's room.

It took me quite an hour to make the transfer, during which time I was not interrupted by any alarm. Whatever Holgate and his men were doing, they evidently did not deem that there was any center of interest in the saloon cabins at that moment. My task accomplished, I returned to the music-room, in which the wounded men still slept restlessly. I occupied my time in preparing a meal, and I took a strong glass of whisky and water, for my strength was beginning to ebb. I had endured much and fought hard, and had slept but little. As I stood looking down on my companions, I was aware of a grey shadow that the slender sunlight cast as a ghost upon the wall. I turned and saw the Princess.

She was clad as for a journey, and warmly against the cold, and her face was pale and anxious.

"You are astir, Dr. Phillimore," she said.

"Yes," said I. "I could not sleep."

"Nor I," she returned with a sigh. "I sometimes feel that I shall never sleep again. The sound of the storm and the noises of the fight--the oaths--the cries--they are forever beating in my brain."

"They will pass," I replied encouragingly. "I do believe we are destined to safety. Look forth there and you will see the morning mists on the island."

"Yes," she assented. "I saw that we had struck on an island, and that is why I am here. Our chance is given us, Dr. Phillimore. We must go."

I looked doubtfully at the sleeping men.

"Yes, yes, I know, but my brother will be more reasonable now," she pursued; "he will see things in another light. He has done all for honour that honour calls for."

"He has done too much," said I somewhat bitterly, for I realised how greatly he had imperilled his sister.

She made no answer to that, but approached and looked down at the Prince, who lay with his head pillowed on the cushioned seat.

"He is well enough?" she asked.

"He is well enough to leave the yacht if he will consent," I answered.

Perhaps it was the sound of our voices, though we had both pitched them low. At any rate, Prince Frederic stirred and sat up slowly.

"Good-morning, Alix," he said affectionately, and his eyes alighted on me, as if wondering.

The Princess went forward and embraced him. "Dr. Phillimore has kindly got breakfast for you," she said. "You must eat, Frederic, for we are going to leave the yacht this morning."

She spoke decisively, as if she had taken control of affairs out of his hands, and he smiled back.

"Are those your orders, Alix? You were always wilful from a child."

"No, no," she cried, smiling too, "I always obeyed your orders, Frederic. It was you who were hero to me, not Karl or Wilhelm--only you."

He patted her hand and glanced at the food I had obtained. "We owe to Dr. Phillimore a debt of gratitude," he said in his friendliest manner. The talking had disturbed Barraclough also, who now awoke and saluted us. He made no difficulty of beginning at once on his breakfast, cracking a joke at my expense. It was a strangely pacific gathering after the terrible night; but I suppose we were all too worn to take things in duly.

There is a limit to the power of facts to make impressions on one's senses, and I think we had reached it. For the most part we were just animals with an appetite. But there was my news, and I hastened to break it. It was not startling, but it had an interest for us all. The Prince deliberated.

"It is fate," he said slowly. "It is the luck of the Hochburgers."

Barraclough's comment was from a different aspect. "That's a trick to us. We've a shot in the locker yet."

"What is it you mean?" asked the Prince.

"Why, that we can drive a bargain with them," replied Barraclough. "We've got the whip-hand."

"There shall no bargain be made with murderers," said the Prince in his deep voice.

"Frederic," said Princess Alix in a quick, impulsive way, "let us escape while there is time. The way is clear now. We can get to the island and be quit forever of those dreadful men and horrible scenes."

The Prince let his glance fall on her. "There is something to be done here," he said at last. "The luck of the Hochburgers holds."

He was ill for certain; perhaps he was more than ill; but at that moment I had no patience with him. I turned on my heel and left the room.


CHAPTER XIX

THE TRAGEDY

It was quite obvious that we could not offer any resistance to another attack if one should be made. All told, and excluding the women, there were but seven of us, and three of these were disabled by their wounds. We did not, of course, know how the mutineers had fared, but it was certain that their assault had cost them dear. The heavy seas had washed overboard dead and dying, and it was impossible for us to say how many enemies were left to