by Frank Savile
CHAPTER XVIII
THE SANTA MARGARITA'S LAZARET
The torment of his tightly lashed limbs, the irk of the gag between histeeth, want of air, hunger, thirst--these had all done their work uponAylmer and, as the hours went by, produced a partial unconsciousness. Itwas not sleep which overpowered him; it was a thing less merciful thanthat. A numbness had seized both his limbs and his brain. He no longerfelt the cutting pressure of his bonds; he scarcely realized where hispowerlessness lay. Effort was paralyzed, that was all he understood. Itwas a nightmare; his brain refused to confront reasons; he was sensitiveonly to effects. Thus it was with a shock as if sensibility itself wasonly then returning that he heard the grating sound of hinges, wasconscious of a gleam of light in the hitherto persistent darkness, feltfingers busy at his lips. The gag fell from between them.
With the powers of speech his own again, his senses used theminstinctively for primitive needs.
"Water!" he muttered hoarsely. "Water!"
"With pleasure, my dear cousin!" said a familiar voice. "Water, food,and even, under restrictions, a little liberty. Has that programmeattractions? Surely--after what, I fear, has been a monotonous night."
It was Landon who held a guttering lamp in his hand and looked down atthem complacently--Landon, debonair, smiling, triumphant.
Aylmer's eyes searched past him after the first glance of surprise.Touching his feet lay Miss Van Arlen, bound as he had been bound, themark of the gag still grooving her lips and cheek. Beyond her, proppedagainst a bulkhead at the end of the narrow oblong lazaret in which theyall lay, was another figure. Aylmer blinked and frowned in his surprise.The face was unfamiliarly pale; the usually apathetic eyes dark withrepressed emotion. But they both undoubtedly belonged to--Mr. Miller.
This, then, was the meaning of the opening of their prison door for thesecond time the previous evening; this was the addition to their cargowhich darkness had concealed from him.
Landon gave a pleasant little laugh.
"An unexpected reunion, is it not?" he suggested. "I have unavoidablydeprived you of a few luxuries, my dear Miller, but have supplied whatis far more important--true friends."
For a moment the other was silent; his glance reviewed his surroundingswith careful intensity; he seemed to prime himself with all availableinformation before he dealt with a situation which found him moved,indeed, but not by useless loss of temper.
"You will probably pay for this--highly," he said in his usual leveltones. "I do not know precisely what you expect to gain, my dear Landon,but believe me the price of this exploit will be more than you canafford."
Landon made a gesture of protest.
"There will be a price; you are quick to jump to these conclusions," heagreed. "But I, dear friend, am the payee."
He nodded, favoring each of them with a glance in turn.
"Yes," he said. "That is the situation; please understand it. I amdictating terms, I. I am no longer the hunted, but the hunter. I havemany debits in my mental ledger. I propose to collect them once and forall, in full."
The three regarded him without speaking, and he laughed again, amiably.
"Sister-in-law," he said, "your sex requires my first apologies. Youmust blame the wind, not me, for the discomforts of the night. While weremained within earshot of the land or of passing ships, your silencewas overwhelmingly desirable. This applied to all three of you, and thecontumacious wind forbore to rise. But the breeze of the last hour hasgiven us an offing which frees you of all disabilities. Your bonds, tocommence with."
He stooped and rapidly unlashed her wrists and ankles. He put out a handto draw her to her feet.
With an uncontrollable gesture of repulsion, she waved it away and roseunsteadily, clinging to the bulkhead. She faced him.
"Have you never asked yourself what the end will be, the end of allthis?" she said suddenly, fiercely. "You win a trick here and there; youreckon up the points; you mock your adversaries. Do you never give athought to what the price, the ultimate price, must be?"
He looked at her--a look that held some curiosity--a tinge, indeed, ofadmiration.
"You are a little unexpected, my dear Claire," he answered. "Does notthe more material question of food and drink engross you? Do you reallywish to discuss abstractions?"
She gave a hopeless little shrug of her shoulder.
"It is because you are wholly evil, wholly, that you puzzle me. And yetyou are not unintelligent; you must know, mere experience must teachyou, there is a price to be paid!"
"Certainly." Landon laughed again, a mocking laugh. "I sketched it inoutline to your--your lover--may I have the felicity of calling himthat?--when I enjoyed his company in the silo on the road to El Dibh."
The color flamed to her cheek.
"You are insolent!" she said, and again Landon laughed.
"Or merely premature?" he asked gaily. "After all, for the momenthospitality must engross me and nothing else." He turned and beckoned tosome one unseen. He received a basket.
"Bread, cheese, wine," he explained. "Will you help yourself while Iassist my other guests? Or, if they choose, they may assist themselves.But I must have your words, my friends, that you will not attemptviolence or escape if I release your hands."
The two prisoners exchanged glances. Then Miller held out his fetteredwrists.
"As you will," he said quietly. "Temporarily I give you my parole. Iretain the right to withdraw it."
Landon nodded and looked at his cousin.
"And you?" he asked.
Aylmer met the look squarely.
"No, to you I will be beholden for nothing," he answered. "I give noword; I keep my independence."
Landon shrugged his shoulders.
"You only inconvenience yourself," he said indifferently. "Well, myQuixote, stay here then, in the dark, shackled, and alone."
He held back the door, motioning the others into the outer cabin. MissVan Arlen stood still, leaning against the bulkhead.
Landon made another gesture towards the door. "Ladies first," he smiled."While we play at pirates, let us maintain the high standard ofpiratical courtesy."
She shook her head.
"I prefer to stay," she said quietly.
Landon's surprise escaped in an exclamation. And then he laughed--anevil, sneering laugh, which brimmed with insolence and suggestion.
"You--prefer--to stay?" he repeated, and looked from her to the man wholay at his feet. "Was my chance shot so far from the target?" he asked."You will stay with--whom? Not a lover?"
Her eyes were stormy, but her voice was restrained.
"Even your insolence does not turn me from my duty," she answered."Captain Aylmer has served, and is suffering for, me and mine."
She turned her eyes from his as she spoke and, as if some power outsideherself compelled her, let them meet the glance which Aylmer flung ather from the level of the floor. Through a pregnant moment she read itsmessage--surprise, incredulity, and then hope. These lit fires in it oneby one, but the last eclipsed all other gleams, and remained.
He spoke.
"Thank you," he said simply. "But I am not here to add to yourhardships. I cannot accept the sacrifice."
"The decision is with me," she said quietly, but with determination. "Itis settled. I remain here, with Captain Aylmer."
Landon was still smiling.
"It has its unconventional side, this decision of yours," he said. "Imust remind you of that."
"You need remind me of nothing," she answered. "I stay; that is all."
He shook his head.
"Not quite all," he objected. "I must, of course, have a promise fromyou that you will not interfere with Captain Aylmer's bonds in any way."
She nodded.
"Very well," she said laconically. "I promise."
Still Landon hesitated, his hand upon the door.
"And you?" he said suddenly, looking at his cousin. "You shall give meyour word not to let her touch you."
Aylmer's eyes sparkle
d with rage.
"Have you not got her word, you _dog_!" he answered, and there was anintonation on the last syllable which seemed to sting even Landon'simperturbability. For he made a threatening step forward.
"By God, I'll show you where you are!" he cried. "You dare to give meyour impudence, here?"
He stood looking down, his breath coming pantingly. His cheeks hadbecome curiously patched; he gasped.
Miller's even voice broke across the tension.
"Captain Aylmer refuses any relaxations," he said urbanely. "Why notaccept the fact?"
Landon swung round.
"Do you think I daren't?" he cried menacingly. "Do you think I daren'tgo the whole hog? If I swing him overboard, who's to tell? By the Lord,I've a mind for it--and to make myself safe with the rest of you, too.I've a mind, a very good mind, to rid myself of the lot of you!"
"And live afterwards--on what?" replied Miller very quietly.
There was silence, more than a moment of it. Landon's fingers sought andfound purchase upon the wood partition. His glance dwelled upon Miller,debatingly. Slowly the flush died from his cheek.
And then he laughed again, harshly, unmirthfully, even apologetically,so it seemed, but as if the apology were to himself. He motioned Millerto the door. He laid the basket upon the floor.
"Make the most of it," he said. He hesitated. "And don't count on my--mygood-humor--again." Without a backward look, he placed the lantern onthe table and banged the door.
Claire made no comment; her whole desire was to dull all sense ofemotion from the situation. She laid her hand upon the basket; she drewout a bottle of wine; she found a tin cup and filled it. She did it allwith matter-of-factness; she did not spare a glance towards the floor.
And then she knelt beside him, put her arm behind his back, helped himto shuffle into an uneasy leaning posture against the bulkhead. Shebrought him the cup.
He shook his head in protest.
"After you," he said determinedly.
Her lips moved to speech, and then she stayed herself. After all was notstolid acquiescence best; did not that kill sentiment, and was notsentiment the one thing to be dreaded in this situation? She lifted hershoulders in an indifferent little shrug and then she drank. He watchedher quietly. She refilled the cup and held it to his lips. He moved hischin in a queer, cramped little nod of acknowledgment and drank in histurn. And there was a hint of reluctance in the little sigh with whichhe relinquished the emptied cup.
She refilled it and held it for him again, anticipating his protestswith the declaration that she herself would have no more, disliked it,wished, rather, for food. And so she watched him drink for the secondtime, slowly, swallowing tiny mouthfuls, dwelling on it. A queer senseof unreality gripped her as she did so. It was as if she waited on andtolerated the foibles of a child. A hundred times she had done as muchor more for her small nephew, but without this protective sense in thedoing of it. She realized the fact with a sort of self-inquisition. Itpleased her to see this man where her help was essential to him. Someinstinct of the same kind had been awake in her as she nursed andwatched over him at the silo, but it had died or slept in theintervening weeks of ordinary converse at Gibraltar and on the yacht. Itwoke again now; and it had grown unwatched. Why, she asked herself. Why?
And then came the question of food. The basket contained no accessories,merely the bare essentials. She had to break the bread and divide thecheese with her fingers, bit by bit. And bit by bit she had to placeeach portion between his teeth. She shrank, or she told herself that itwas shrinking, as her hand brushed his moustache, but was there anythingtruly repellent in this suddenly intimate action? Again self-inquisitiondenied it. Pleasure was in the sensation, not pain.
She rose, at last, when the contents of the basket were finished, andplaced it on the table. Returning she flicked the crumbs from hisshoulder and then, with a little sigh, sat down. He looked at hergravely, but with a gravity which tells of emotion restrained.
"Thank you again," he said. "Thank you for everything, but--why?"
She gave a little start. Was not this the question that her inner selfhad been dinning in her ears for half an hour? She was humbling herself,sacrificing herself even, in the eyes of such as Landon, loweringherself to serve this man. Why?
And as she debated she avoided his gaze lest he should read indecisionin her glance. And yet the answer should have been glib on her lips; shehad, indeed, already given it to Landon. Duty to a servant suffering inher service. But was that all?
"Did you expect me to choose the company of your cousin?" she askedslowly. "The very sight of him revolts me. I cannot stand it!"
"You spared me a little of that distaste, at our first meeting," hesaid, and there was the glint of a queer smile beneath his moustache."Have I lived that down?"
"I know now that you are a gentleman," she said simply. "I realize, too,that Landon is--is monstrous, wickedness incarnate, beyond the reach ofhuman feeling, completely vile. I think," she hesitated, "I think hemust have concentrated within himself every evil influence that hasfallen upon his family, to leave you--" again she faltered, as if shestruggled with a compelling power, not as if a word or phrase escapedher--"to leave you--_stainless_," she sighed with an inflection thatseemed to tell of something reluctant in the effort.
For a moment he was silent. Then the color flamed to his face; the lightof incredulity woke in his eyes.
"Then I start now with every handicap cleared away?" he asked quickly."You see me--as other men?"
She turned and looked at him. She smiled a little wearily.
"No," she said quietly. "Not as other men."
He drew a deep breath.
"Claire," he said very quietly, "a month ago I came first into yourlife. Fate brought me to you, to earn, and then to resent, yourunexplained hatred. When I understood it, I swore to myself that I wouldmake you--just. That, then, is a task accomplished."
Was this sudden intimate use of her Christian name unconscious or was itpremeditated? She made no comment; she only bowed her assent.
"That was no personal decision," went on Aylmer. "I did it as a duty--toall who bore my name. The personal factor came afterwards, but so soonafterwards that I can scarcely tell you when the one merged in theother. I loved you; did you understand that?"
And now it was her turn to flush and wince. But was it wincing? Thepulse which throbbed through her--was it truly resentment? A sense ofsudden bewilderment came over her--a bewilderment which sought refuge,at first, in silence.
"You--you almost threatened me," she allowed at last, with the ghost ofa tiny smile. "And I am not accustomed to threats. They--they made meangry."
"Yes, but you understood!" he cried. "You understood what I sought andfor what reward?"
There was something masterful, triumphant in his tone which grated onher instincts, a reaction to the days when all he said and did gratedupon her. And it helped her to regain command of herself, to snatchherself from the brink to which she was drifting.
"I hoped I misunderstood," she said coolly. "For it was a liberty. Atthe time I considered it an insult."
She did not look at him, but she heard the quick intake of his breath.And the sudden pain in his voice smote her with remorse.
"As an insult it is atoned?" he asked. "Does it remain a liberty still?"
She turned her eyes to his, and he looked up to know his opportunitythere, and could not grasp it. He lay a prisoner at her feet. If he hadbeen free, if his arms had been about her, if he had used his man'sstrength and mastery to take and hold her, if opportunity had not mockedhim, would he have won? Fate knows, but fate was smiling then. And thehistory of man and maid from all ages is with us. Yes, he would havewon; he would have won.
She gave a tiny gasp, and then the fugitive instinct, the primevalresort to flight, was upon her. She sent opportunity packing with herreply.
"I am here, by my own choice, with you--alone," she reminded him. "Aliberty may become a question of--circumstance."
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He flushed hotly, and again remorse gripped her as she saw the haggardlines draw in about his eyes.
"I can only ask your pardon," he answered. "I ask it, humbly andcontritely." He gave a wry little smile. "And perhaps circumstance is toblame, after all."
Opportunity halted in her flight, hesitated, gave a returning steptowards beckoning remorse. There was a shuffling sound at the door ofthe lazaret, and opportunity wheeled and fled.
"Let me in!" said a childish voice impatiently. "It's me! It's me! Letme in!"
The girl started forward.
"John!" she cried. "Little John! Find the bolt! It's your side of thedoor!"
The shuffling, scrabbling sound continued. An impatient foot kicked thepanel. And then suddenly, creakingly, the door flew back. The childpranced gaily over the threshold.
"I just kicked, so!" he explained, "and it flew in! I did not know therewas a cupboard here." He gave a shrill little shout of amazement andcapered towards Aylmer. "It's the pig man!" he cried. "The pig man!"
Claire's arms closed about him and snatched him to her.
"Oh, John--Little John!" she whispered fiercely. "Aren't you glad to seeme, _me_?"
He held his face back from her for an instant and looked at herappraisingly.
"Yes," he said meditatively. "But you aren't come to make me wear cleanthings again? Muhammed doesn't."
And then he wriggled energetically, his eyes on Aylmer.
"Is he hurted?" he asked anxiously. "He was hurted once, last time I sawhim. Why have they wrapped up his hands?"
A sudden gleam shone on Aylmer's face. He held out the pinioned wrists.
"Could you unknot them, old boy?" he asked quickly. "Would you like totry?"
She gave him a glance of comprehension and let the child go. He leaneddown over Aylmer and his little fingers picked at the cords. He pulledat first unavailingly. Aylmer gave low-voiced suggestions, showed whichknot should be dealt with first. Claire, as she watched, put out a handinstinctively to help.
He smiled, but snatched his wrists away.
"You forget," he said quietly.
She drew back.
"Yes," she said. "I forgot," and a flame of unreasoning anger burned inher. Landon fought with any weapon he chose to forge--a lie had everbeen the easiest to his hand. And they? They must not touch the fringeof disloyalty; even with him they had to keep perfect faith. Herfeminine perceptions revolted; this was too rigid for her woman's mind.If she had forgotten, for a moment, her promise, why should he not availhimself of the slip, which was hers alone? And then she smiled. Had henot gone up in her estimation another step? Yes, and she smiled again;how long ago was it since she, who now looked up at him, had from sovery great a height of condescension and dislike, looked down?
Suddenly the child gave a little squeal of triumph.
"There!" he cried. "You pull your hands--so! Then I pull so!" Andshouted again, for the lashings which lay upon the parted wrists lay nowloosely, in loops which dangled on the floor.
And then, as anger had seized upon her, so did fear. She looked at himwith suddenly apprehensive eyes.
"You will do--what?" she asked tremulously. Her imagination picturedhalf a dozen dangers in as many seconds, all lurking to overwhelm a tooreckless freedom.
He smiled.
"For the moment I dissemble, and wait," he said, and sat down quietly toloop anew the cords about his arms, but in running loops, thistime--knots which would give before one well-directed pull.