by Charles King
CHAPTER X.
Not until the tenth day out from Honolulu was Mr. Stuyvesant so farrecovered as to warrant the surgeons in permitting his being lifted fromthe hot and narrow berth to a steamer-chair on the starboard side. Eventhen it was with the caution to everybody that he must not be disturbed.The heat below and in many of the staterooms was overpowering, andofficers and soldiers in numbers slept upon the deck, and not a few ofthe Red Cross nurses spent night after night in the bamboo and wickerreclining-chairs under the canvas awnings.
Except for the tropic temperature, the weather had been fine and thevoyage smooth and uneventful. The Sacramento rolled easily, lazilyalong. The men had morning shower-baths and, a few at a time, salt-waterplunges in big canvas tanks set fore and aft on the main deck. On theport or southern side of the promenade deck the officers sported theirpajamas both day and night, and were expected to appear in khaki orserge, and consequent discomfort, only at table, on drill or duty, andwhen visiting the starboard side, which, abaft the captain's room, wasby common consent given up to the women.
They were all on hand the morning that the invalid officer was carefullyaided from his stateroom to a broad reclining-chair, which was thenborne to a shaded nook beneath the stairway leading to the bridge andthere securely lashed. The doctor and Mr. Ray remained some minutes withhim, and the steward came with a cooling drink. Mrs. Wells, doctor bycourtesy and diploma, arose and asked the surgeon if there were reallynothing the ladies could do--"Mr. Stuyvesant looks so very pale andweak,"--and the sisterhood strained their ears for the reply, which, asthe surgeon regarded the lady's remark as reflecting upon the results ofhis treatment, might well be expected to be somewhat tart.
"Nothing to-day, Mrs.--er--Dr. Wells," said the army man, half vexed,also, at being detained on way to hospital. "The fever has gone and hewill soon recuperate now, provided he can rest and sleep. It is muchcooler on deck and--if it's only quiet----"
"Oh, he sha'n't be bothered, if that's what you mean," interposed Dr.Wells with proper spirit. "I'm sure nobody desires to intrude in theleast. I asked for my associates from a sense of duty. Most of them arecapable of fanning or even reading aloud to a patient without danger ofover-exciting him."
"Unquestionably, madam," responded the surgeon affably, "and when suchministrations are needed I'll let you know. Good-morning." And, liftinghis stiff helmet, the doctor darted down the companion-way.
"Brute!" said the lady doctor. "No wonder that poor boy doesn't getwell. Miss Ray, I marvel that your brother can stand him."
Miss Ray glanced quietly up from her book and smiled. "We have known Dr.Sturgis many years," she said. "He is brusque, yet very much thought ofin the army."
But at this stage of the colloquy there came interruption mostmerciful--for the surgeon. The deep whistle of the steamer sounded threequick blasts. There was instant rush and scurry on the lower deck. Thecavalry trumpets fore and aft rang out the assembly.
It was the signal for boat-drill, and while the men of certain companiessprang to ranks and stood in silence at attention awaiting orders, otherdetachments rushed to their stations at the life-rafts, and others stillswarmed up the stairways or clambered over the rails, and in less than aminute every man was at his post. Quickly the staff officers made therounds, received the reports of the detachment commanders and the boatcrews, and returning, with soldierly salute, gave the results to thecommanding officer, who had taken position with the captain on thebridge.
For five or ten minutes the upper deck was dotted by squads ofblue-shirted soldiers, grouped in disciplined silence about the boats.Then the recall was sounded, and slowly and quietly the commandsdispersed and went below.
It so happened that in returning to the forecastle about a dozentroopers passed close to where Stuyvesant lay, a languid spectator, andat sight of his pale, thin face two of them stopped, raised their handsin salute, looked first eager and pleased, and then embarrassed. Theirfaces were familiar, and suddenly Stuyvesant remembered. Beckoning themto come nearer, he feebly spoke:
"You were in the car-fire. I thought I knew your faces."
"Yes, sir," was the instant reply of the first. "We're sorry to see thelieutenant so badly hurt--and by that blackguard Murray too, they say.If the boys ever get hold of him, sir, he'll never have time for hisprayers."
"No, nor another chance to bite," grinned the second, whom Stuyvesantnow recognized as the lance corporal of artillery. "He's left his markon both of us, sir," and, so saying, the soldier held out his hand.
In the soft and fleshy part of the palm at the base of the thumb werethe scars of several wounds. It did not need an expert eye to tell thatthey were human-tooth marks. There were the even traces of the middleincisors, the deep gash made by the fang-like dog tooth, and between themark of the right upper canine and those of three incisors a smooth,unscarred space. There, then, must have been a vacancy in the upper jaw,a tooth broken off or gone entirely, and Stuyvesant remembered that asMurray spoke the eye-tooth was the more prominent because of the uglygap beside it.
"He had changed the cut of his jib considerably," faintly whisperedStuyvesant, after he had extended a kind but nerveless hand to each,"but that mark would betray him anywhere under any disguise. Was Fosterever found?"
"No, sir. They sent me back to Sacramento, but nobody could rememberhaving seen anybody like him. I'm afraid he was drowned there atCarquinez. My battery went over with the third expedition while I was upthere. That's how I happen to be with the cavalry on this trip." Then upwent both hands to the caps again and both soldiers sprang to attention.
Stuyvesant, looking languidly around, saw that Mr. Ray had returned,saw, moreover, that his sister was leaning on his arm, her eyes fixed onthe speaker's weather-beaten face. Again it all flashed upon him--thestory of Foster's infatuation for this lovely girl, his enlistment, andthen his strange and unaccountable disappearance.
"I'm sorry, men," interposed Mr. Ray in pleasant tone, "but the surgeonhas ordered us not to talk with Lieutenant Stuyvesant, and I shall haveto repeat his order to you. You were in the car that was burned, Isuppose?"
"Yes, sir. Beg pardon--we didn't know about the doctor's orders. We'remighty glad to see the lieutenant again. Come 'long, Mellen."
"Wait," whispered Stuyvesant. "Come and see me again. I want to talkwith you, and--thank you for stopping to-day."
The soldiers departed happy, and Stuyvesant turned wistfully to greetMiss Ray. She was already beyond reach of his voice, leaning on Sandy'sarm and gazing steadfastly into his face. He saw Mrs. Dr. Wells comingswiftly towards him with inquiry in her eyes, and impulsively,peevishly, and in disappointment he turned again his face to the wall,as it were. At least that was not the Red Cross nurse he longed for,good and sympathetic and wise in her way as she undoubtedly was.
He wished now with all his heart that they had placed his chair so thathe could look back along the promenade deck instead of forward over theforecastle at the sparkling sea. He felt that, pacing up and downtogether, the brother and sister must come within ten feet of his chairbefore they turned back, and he longed to look at her, yet could not.Sturgis had said he would return in a few minutes, and he hadn't come.Stuyvesant felt aggrieved. It would be high noon before many minutes.Already the ship officers were on the bridge ready to "take the sun,"and mess-call for the men was sounding on the lower decks. He would givea fortune, thought he, to feel once more that cool, soft, slender littlehand on his forehead. There were other hands, some that were certainlywhiter than Miss Ray's, and probably quite as soft and cool, hands thatbefore the report of his slur upon the Red Cross would gladly haveministered to him, but he shrank from thought of any touch but one. Hewould have given another fortune, if he had it, could Marion Ray butcome and sit by him and talk in her cordial, pleasant tones. There werebetter talkers, wittier, brighter women within hail--women who kepttheir hearers laughing much of the time, which Miss Ray did not, yet heshrank from the possibility of one of their number accosting him.
Twice
he was conscious that Dr. Wells and Miss Porter had tip-toed closeand were peering interestedly at him, but he shut his eyes and would notsee or hear. He did not "want to be bothered," it was only too evident,and as the ship's bell chimed the hour of noon and the watch changed,his would-be visitors slipped silently away and he was alone.
When the doctor came cautiously towards him a few minutes later,Stuyvesant was to all appearances sleeping, and the "medico" rejoiced inthe success of his scheme. When, not five minutes after the doctorpeeped at him, the voice of the captain was heard booming from thebridge just over the patient's pillowed head, it developed that thepatient was wide awake. Perhaps what the captain said would account forthis.
A dozen times on the voyage that mariner had singled out Miss Ray forsome piece of attention. Now, despite the fact that almost the entireRed Cross party were seated or strolling or reclining there under thecanvas awning and he must have known it, although they were hidden fromhis view, he again made that young lady the object of his homage. Shewas at the moment leaning over the rail, with Sandy by her side, gazingat the dark blue, beautiful waters that, flashing and foam-crested, wentsweeping beneath her. The monarch of the ship, standing at the outer endof the bridge, had caught sight of her and gave tongue at once. A goodseaman was the captain and a stalwart man, but he knew nothing of tactor discretion.
"Oh, Miss Ray," he bawled, "come up on the bridge and I'll show you thechart. Bring the lieutenant."
For an instant she hesitated, reluctant. Not even the staff of thecommanding officer had set foot on that sacred perch since the voyagebegan, only when especially bidden or at boat or fire drill did thatmagnate himself presume to ascend those stairs. As for her sisternurses, though they had explored the lower regions and were wellacquainted with the interior arrangement of the Sacramento, and wereconsumed with curiosity and desire to see what was aloft on thehurricane-deck, the stern prohibition still staring at them in bold,brazen letters, "Passengers are Forbidden upon the Bridge," had servedto restrain the impulse to climb.
And now here was Captain Butt singling out Miss Ray again and ignoringthe rest of them. If she could have found any reasonable excuse forrefusing Maidie Ray would have declined. But Sandy's eyes said "Come."Butt renewed his invitation. She turned and looked appealingly at Mrs.Wells, as though to say "What shall I do?" but that matron wasapparently engrossed in a volume of Stevenson, and would not be drawninto the matter, and finally Marion caught Miss Porter's eye. There, atleast, was a gleam of encouragement and sympathy. Impulsive andcapricious as that young woman could be on occasions, the girl hadlearned to appreciate the genuine qualities of her room-mate, and oflate had been taking sides for Marion against the jealousies of herfellows.
"Why don't you go?" she murmured, with a nod of her head towards thestairs, and with slightly heightened color, Miss Ray smiled acceptanceat the captain, and, following Sandy's lead through the labyrinth ofsteamer-chairs about them, tripped briskly away over the open deck, andthere, at the very foot of the steep, ladder-like ascent, became awareof Mr. Stuyvesant leaning on an elbow and gazing at her with all his bigblue eyes.
She had to stop and go around under the stairs and take his thin,outstretched hand. She had to stop a moment to speak to him, though whathe said, or she said, neither knew a moment after. All she was consciousof as she turned away was that now at least every eye in all thesisterhood was on her, and, redder than ever, she fairly flew up thesteep steps, and was welcomed by the chivalric Butt upon the bridge.
That afternoon several of the Band were what Miss Porter was constrainedto call "nastily snippy" in their manner to her, and, feeling wrongedand misjudged, it was not to be wondered at that her father's daughtershould resent it. And yet so far from exulting in having thus beendistinguished and recognized above her fellows, Miss Ray had felt deeplyembarrassed, and almost the first words she said after receiving thebluff seaman's effusive greeting were in plea for her associates.
"Oh, Captain Butt, it's most kind of you to ask me up here--and mybrother, too, will be so interested in the chart-room, but, can'tyou--won't you ask Dr. Wells and at least some of the ladies? You knowthey all would be glad to come, and----"
"That's all right, Miss Ray," bawled old Butt, breaking in on herhurried words. "I'll ask 'em up here some other time. You see we'rerolling a bit to-day, and like as not some of 'em would pitch overthings, and--and--well, there ain't room for more'n three at a timeanyhow."
"Then you ought to have asked Dr. Wells first and some of theseniors."--She hesitated about saying elders.--No one of the Band wouldhave welcomed an invitation tendered on account of her advanced years.
"It'll be just as bad if I go and ask her now," said Butt testily. "Theothers will take offence, and life's too short for a shipmaster to beexplaining to a lot of women why they can't all come at once on thebridge. I'll have 'em up to-morrow--any three you say."
But when the morrow came he didn't "have 'em up." Maidie had pleadedloyally for her associates, but was too proud or sensitive to so informthem. The captain had said he would do that, and meanwhile she tried notto feel exasperated at the injured airs assumed by several of the Bandand the cutting remarks of one or two of their number.
That afternoon, however, the skies became overcast and the wind rose.That night the sea dashed high towards the rail and the Sacramentowallowed deep in the surges. Next morning the wind had freshened to agale. All air-ports were closed. The spray swept the promenade deck alongthe starboard side and the Red Cross and two-thirds of the martialpassenger-list forgot all minor ills and annoyances in the miseries of_mal de mer_. Three days and nights were most of the women folk coopedin their cabins, but Miss Ray was an old sailor and had twice seenfar heavier weather on the Atlantic. Sheltered from the rain by thebridge-deck and from the spray and gale by heavy canvas lashedathwartship in front of the captain's room, and securely strapped in herreclining-chair, this young lady fairly rejoiced in the magnificentbattle with the elements and gloried in the bursting seas. Sandy, too,albeit a trifle upset, was able to be on deck, and one of the "subs" fromthe port-side hearing of it, donned his outer garments and cavalry bootsand joined forces with them, and Stuyvesant, hearing their merry voices,declared that he could not breathe in his stuffy cabin and demanded to bedressed and borne out on deck too. At first the surgeon said no,whereupon his patient began to get worse.
So on the second day the doctor yielded, and all that day and the thirdof the storm, by which time the starboard deck was slowly becomingpeopled with a few spectral and barely animate feminine shapes,Stuyvesant reclined within arm's length of the dark-eyed girl who had soentranced him, studying her beauty, drinking in her words, and gainingsuch health and strength in the life-giving air and such bliss from theassociation that Sturgis contemplated with new complacency the happyresult of his treatment, for when the gale subsided, and on the fourthday they ran once more into smooth and lazy waters, it was Stuyvesant'sconsuming desire to take up his bed and walk, except when Miss Ray wasthere to talk or read to him.
And this was the state of affairs when the Sacramento hove in sight ofthe bold headlands, green and beautiful, that front the sea at thenortheast corner of mountainous Luzon. Once within soundings and closeto a treacherous shore, with only Spanish authority to rely on as torocks, reefs, and shoals, no wonder old Butt could have no women on thebridge, this, too, at the very time they most wished to be there, sinceeverything worth seeing lay on the port or southern side, and that givenup to those horrid officers and their pajamas.
Not until his anchor dropped in Manila Bay did the master of theSacramento think to redeem his promise to bid the ladies of the RedCross to the sacred bridge, and incidentally to tell them how Miss Rayhad urged it in their behalf while they were out on blue waters, but nowit was too late.