The House Under the Sea: A Romance

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by Max Pemberton

am sure, did the others.Dolly Venn had already opened his eyes and lay back, white andbloodless, on the sofa. A hissing sound of escaping gas was in theroom. I breathed so freely that a sense of excitement, almost ofintoxication, came upon me. The doctor moved about quietly andmethodically, now looking to his burners, now at the machines. Fiveminutes came and went before he put another question.

  "What kept you from the shelter?" he asked, at last. I knew then thathe believed us to be Edmond Czerny's men; and I made up my mindinstantly what to do.

  "Prudence kept us, doctor," said I (for doctor plainly he was);"prudence, the same sense that turns a fly from a spider's web. It isfair that you should know the story. We haven't come to Ken's Islandbecause we are Edmond Czerny's friends; nor will he call us that. AskMme. Czerny the next time you meet her, and she'll tell you whatbrought us here. You are acting well towards us and confidence is yourdue, so I say that the day when Edmond Czerny finds us on this shorewill be a bad one for him or a bad one for us, as the case may be. Letit begin with that, and afterwards we shall sail in open water."

  I said all this just naturally, not wishing him to think that I fearedEdmond Czerny nor was willing to hoist false colours. Enemy or friend,I meant to be honest with him. It was some surprise to me, I must say,when he went on quietly with his work, moving from place to place, nowat the gas-burner, now at his machine, just for all the world as thoughthis visitation had not disturbed him. When he spoke it was to ask aquestion about Miss Ruth.

  "Mme. Czerny," said he, quietly; "there is a Mme. Czerny, then?"

  Now, if he had struck me with his hand I could not have been moresurprised at his ignorance. Just think of it--here was a man leftbehind on Ken's Island when all the riffraff there had fled to someshelter on the sea; a man working quietly, I was sure, to discover whathe could of the gases which poisoned us; a man in Mistress Ruth's ownhouse who did not even know her name. Nothing more wonderful had Iheard that night. And the way he put the question, raising his eyebrowsa little, and looking up over his long, white apron!

  "Not heard of Mme. Czerny!" cried I, in astonishment, "not heard ofher--why, what shore do you hail from, then? Don't you know that she'shis wife, doctor--his wife?"

  He turned to his bottles and went on arranging them. He was speakingand acting now at the same time.

  "I came ashore with Prince Czerny when he landed here three days ago.He did not speak of his wife. There are others in America who would beinterested in the news--young ladies, I think."

  He paused for a little while, and then he said quietly:

  "You would be friends of the Princess's, no doubt?"

  "Princess be jiggered," said I; "that is to say, God forgive me, for Ilove Miss Ruth better than my own sister. He's no more a prince thanyou are, though that's a liberty, seeing that I don't know your name,doctor. He's just Edmond Czerny, a Hungarian musician, who caught ayoung girl's fancy in the South, and is making her suffer for it herein the Pacific. Why, just think of it. A young American girl----"

  He stopped me abruptly, swinging round on his heel and showing thefirst spark of animation he had as yet been guilty of.

  "An American girl?" cried he.

  "As true as the Gospels, an American girl. She was the daughter ofRupert Bellenden, who made his money on the Western American Railroad.If you remember the Elbe going down, you won't ask what became of him.His son, Kenrick Bellenden, is in America now. I'd give my fortune,doctor, to let him know how it fares with his sister on this cursedshore. That's why my own ship sails for 'Frisco this day--at least, Ihope and believe so, for otherwise she's at the bottom of the sea."

  I told the story with some heat, for amazement is the enemy of a slowtongue; but my excitement was not shared by him, and for some minutesafterwards he stood like a man in a reverie.

  "You came in your own ship!" he exclaimed next. "Why, yes, you wouldnot have walked. Did Mme. Czerny ask you here?"

  "It was a promise to her," said I. "She left the money with her lawyersfor me to bring a ship to Ken's Island twelve months after hermarriage. That promise I kept, doctor, and here I am and here are myshipmates, and God knows what is to be the end of it and the end ofus!"

  He agreed to that with one of those expressive nods which spared him adeal of talk. By-and-bye, without referring to the matter any more, heturned suddenly to Peter Bligh and exclaimed:

  "Halloa, my man, and what's the matter with you?"

  Now, Peter Bligh sat up as stiff as a board and answered directly.

  "Hunger, doctor, that's the matter with me! If you'll add thirst to it,you've about named my complaint."

  "Fog out of your lungs, eh?"

  "Be sure and it is. I could dance at a fair and not be particularabout the women. Put me alongside a beef-steak and you shall see somelove-making. Aye, doctor, I'll never get my bread as a living skeleton,the saints be good to me, my hold's too big for that!"

  It was like Mister Bligh, and amused the stranger very much. Just as ifto answer Peter, the doctor crossed the room and opened a big cupboardby the window, which I saw to be full of victuals.

  "I forget to eat, myself, when the instruments hustle me," said he,thoughtfully; "that's a bad habit, anyway. Suppose you display yourenergy by setting supper. There are tinned things here and eggs, Ibelieve. You'll find firewood and fresh meat in the kitchen yonder.Here's something to keep the fog out of your lungs while you get it."

  [Illustation: We were all sitting at the supper-table.]

  He tossed a respirator across the table, and Peter Bligh was away tothe kitchen before you could count two. It was a relief to havesomething to do, and right quickly our fellows did it. We were all(except little Dolly Venn, who wanted his strength yet) sitting at thesupper table when half an hour had passed and eating like men who hadfasted for a month. To-morrow troubled the seamen but little. It didnot trouble Peter Bligh or Seth Barker that night, I witness.

  A strange scene, you will admit, and one not readily banished from thememory. For my part, I see that room, I see that picture many a time inthe night watches on my ship or in the dreaming moments of a seaman'sday. The great machines of glass and brass rise up again about me asthey rose that night. I watch the face of the American doctor, sharpand clear-cut and boyish, with the one black curl across the forehead.I see Peter Bligh bent double over the table, little Dolly Venn's eyeslooking up bravely at me as he tries to tell us that all is well withhim. The same curious sensations of doubt and uncertainty come again toplague me. What escape was there from that place? What escape from theisland? Who was to help us in our plight? Who was to befriend littleRuth Bellenden now? Would the ship ever come back? Was she above orbelow the sea? Would the sleep-time endure long, and should we livethrough it? Ah! that was the thing to ask them. More especially to askthis clever man, whose work I made sure it was to answer the question.

  "We thank you, doctor," I said to him, at one time; "we owe our livesto you this night. We sha'n't forget that, be sure of it."

  "I'll never eat a full meal again but I'll remember the name ofDoctor--Doctor--which reminds me that I don't know your name, sir,"added Peter Bligh, clumsily. The doctor smiled at his humour.

  "Dr. Duncan Gray, if it's anything to remember. Ask for Duncan Gray, ofChicago, and one man in a thousand will tell you that he makes it hisbusiness to write about poisons, not knowing anything of them. Why,yes, poison brought me here and poison will move me on again; at leastI begin to imagine it. Poison, you see, holds the aces."

  "It's a fearsome place, truly," said I, "and wonderful that Europeknows so little about it. I've seen Ken's Island on the charts any timethese fifteen years, but never a whisper have I heard of sleep-time orsun-time or any other death-talk such as I've heard these last threedays. You'll be here, doctor, no doubt, to ascertain the truth of it?If my common sense did not tell me as much, the machinery would. It's agreat thing to be a man of your kind, and I'd give much if my educationhad led me that way. But I was only at a country grammar school, andwhat I couldn't get in at one
end the master never could at the other.Aye, I'd give much to know what you know this night!"

  He smiled a little queerly at the compliment, I thought, and turned itoff with a word.

  "I begin to know how little I know, and that's a good start," said he."Possibly Ken's Island will make that little less. The master of Ken'sIsland is generously sending me to Nature's university. I think that Iunderstand why he permitted me to come here. Why, yes, it was smart,and the man who first set curiosity going about Prince Czerny inChicago is well out of Prince Czerny's way. I must reckon all this

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