The girl was reading the note.
Anthony Harding, Esq.
On Board Yacht Lotus,
Honolulu
My dear Mr. Harding:
This will introduce a very dear friend of mine, Count de Cadenet, who expects to be in Honolulu about the time that you are there. The count is traveling for pleasure, and as he is entirely unacquainted upon the islands any courtesies which you may show him will be greatly appreciated.
Cordially,
L. CORTWRITE DIVINE.
The girl smiled as she finished perusing the note.
“Larry is always picking up titles and making dear friends of them,” she laughed. “I wonder where he found this one.”
“Or where this one found him,” suggested Mr. Harding. “Well, I suppose that the least we can do is to have him aboard for dinner. We’ll be leaving tomorrow, so there won’t be much entertaining we can do.”
“Let’s pick him up on our way through town now,” suggested Barbara Harding, “and take him with us for the day. That will be settling our debt to friendship, and dinner tonight can depend upon what sort of person we find the count to be.”
“As you will,” replied her father, and so it came about that two big touring cars drew up before the Count de Cadenet’s hotel half an hour later, and Anthony Harding, Esq., entered and sent up his card.
The “count” came down in person to greet his caller. Harding saw at a glance that the man was a gentleman, and when he had introduced him to the other members of the party it was evident that they appraised him quite as had their host. Barbara Harding seemed particularly taken with the Count de Cadenet, insisting that he join those who occupied her car, and so it was that the second officer of the Halfmoon rode out of Honolulu in pleasant conversation with the object of his visit to the island.
Barbara Harding found De Cadenet an interesting man. There was no corner of the globe however remote with which he was not to some degree familiar. He was well read, and possessed the ability to discuss what he had read intelligently and entertainingly. There was no evidence of moodiness in him now. He was the personification of affability, for was he not monopolizing the society of a very beautiful, and very wealthy young lady?
The day’s outing had two significant results. It put into the head of the second mate of the Halfmoon that which would have caused his skipper and the retiring Mr. Divine acute mental perturbation could they have guessed it; and it put De Cadenet into possession of information which necessitated his refusing the urgent invitation to dine upon the yacht, Lotus, that evening — the information that the party would sail the following morning en route to Manila.
“I cannot tell you,” he said to Mr. Harding, “how much I regret the circumstance that must rob me of the pleasure of accepting your invitation. Only absolute necessity, I assure you, could prevent me being with you as long as possible,” and though he spoke to the girl’s father he looked directly into the eyes of Barbara Harding.
A young woman of less experience might have given some outward indication of the effect of this speech upon her, but whether she was pleased or otherwise the Count de Cadenet could not guess, for she merely voiced the smiling regrets that courtesy demanded.
They left De Cadenet at his hotel, and as he bid them farewell the man turned to Barbara Harding with a low aside.
“I shall see you again, Miss Harding,” he said, “very, very soon.”
She could not guess what was in his mind as he voiced this rather, under the circumstances, unusual statement. Could she have, the girl would have been terror-stricken; but she saw that in his eyes which she could translate, and she wondered many times that evening whether she were pleased or angry with the message it conveyed.
The moment De Cadenet entered the hotel he hurried to the room where the impatient Mr. Ward awaited him.
“Quick!” he cried. “We must bundle out of here posthaste. They sail tomorrow morning. Your duties as valet have been light and short-lived; but I can give you an excellent recommendation should you desire to take service with another gentleman.”
“That’ll be about all of that, Mr. Theriere,” snapped the first officer, coldly. “I did not embark upon this theatrical enterprise for amusement — I see nothing funny in it, and I wish you to remember that I am still your superior officer.”
Theriere shrugged. Ward did not chance to catch the ugly look in his companion’s eye. Together they gathered up their belongings, descended to the office, paid their bill, and a few moments later were changing back to their sea clothes in the little hotel where they first had engaged accommodations. Half an hour later they stepped to the deck of the Halfmoon.
Billy Byrne saw them from where he worked in the vicinity of the cabin. When they were not looking he scowled maliciously at them. They were the personal representatives of authority, and Billy hated authority in whatever guise it might be visited upon him. He hated law and order and discipline.
“I’d like to meet one of dem guys on Green Street some night,” he thought.
He saw them enter the captain’s cabin with the skipper, and then he saw Mr. Divine join them. Billy noted the haste displayed by the four and it set him to wondering. The scrap of conversation between Divine and Simms that he had overheard returned to him. He wanted to hear more, and as Billy was not handicapped by any overly refined notions of the ethics which frown upon eavesdropping he lost no time in transferring the scene of his labors to a point sufficiently close to one of the cabin ports to permit him to note what took place within.
What the mucker beard of that conversation made him prick up his ears. He saw that something after his own heart was doing — something crooked, and he wondered that so pusillanimous a thing as Divine could have a hand in it. It almost changed his estimate of the passenger of the Halfmoon.
The meeting broke up so suddenly that Billy had to drop to his knees to escape the observation of those within the cabin. As it was, Theriere, who had started to leave a second before the others, caught a fleeting glimpse of a face that quickly had been withdrawn from the cabin skylight as though its owner were fearful of detection.
Without a word to his companions the Frenchman left the cabin, but once outside he bounded up the companionway to the deck with the speed of a squirrel. Nor was he an instant too soon, for as he emerged from below he saw the figure of a man disappearing forward.
“Hey there, you!” he cried. “Come back here.”
The mucker turned, a sulky scowl upon his lowering countenance, and the second officer saw that it was the fellow who had given Ward such a trimming the first day out.
“Oh, it’s you is it, Byrne?” he said in a not unpleasant tone. “Come to my quarters a moment, I want to speak with you,” and so saying he wheeled about and retraced his way below, the seaman at his heels.
“My man,” said Theriere, once the two were behind the closed door of the officer’s cabin, “I needn’t ask how much you overheard of the conversation in the captain’s cabin. If you hadn’t overheard a great deal more than you should you wouldn’t have been so keen to escape detection just now. What I wanted to say to you is this. Keep a close tongue in your head and stick by me in what’s going to happen in the next few days. This bunch,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of the captain’s cabin, “are fixing their necks for halters, an’ I for one don’t intend to poke my head through any noose of another man’s making. There’s more in this thing if it’s handled right, and handled without too many men in on the whack-up than we can get out of it if that man Divine has to be counted in. I’ve a plan of my own, an’ it won’t take but three or four of us to put it across.
“You don’t like Ward,” he continued, “and you may be almighty sure that Mr. Ward ain’t losing any sleep nights over love of you. If you stick to that bunch Ward will do you out of your share as sure as you are a foot high, an’ the chances are that he’ll do you out of a whole lot more besides — as a matter of fact, Byrne, you’re a mighty poor life insuran
ce risk right now, with a life expectancy that’s pretty near minus as long as Bender Ward is on the same ship with you. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Aw,” said Billy Byrne, “I ain’t afraid o’ that stiff. Let him make any funny crack at me an’ I’ll cave in a handful of slats for him — the piker.”
“That’s all right too, Byrne,” said Theriere. “Of course you can do it if anybody can, provided you get the chance; but Ward isn’t the man to give you any chance. There may be shooting necessary within the next day or so, and there’s nothing to prevent Ward letting you have it in the back, purely by accident; and if he don’t do it then there’ll be all kinds of opportunities for it before any of us ever see a white man’s port again. He’ll get you, Byrne, he’s that kind.
“Now, with my proposition you’ll be shut of Ward, Skipper Simms, and Divine. There’ll be more money in it for you, an’ you won’t have to go around expecting a bullet in the small of your back every minute. What do you say? Are you game, or shall I have to go back to Skipper Simms and Ward and tell them that I caught you eavesdropping?”
“Oh, I’m game,” said Billy Byrne, “if you’ll promise me a square deal on the divvy.”
The Frenchman extended his hand.
“Let’s shake on it,” he said.
Billy took the proffered palm in his.
“That’s a go,” he said; “but hadn’t you better wise me to wot’s doin’?”
“Not now,” said Theriere, “someone might overhear just as you did. Wait a bit until I have a better opportunity, and I’ll tell you all there is to know. In the meantime think over who’d be the best men to let into this with us — we’ll need three or four more besides ourselves. Now go on deck about your duties as though nothing had happened, and if I’m a bit rougher than usual with you you’ll understand that it’s to avert any possible suspicion later.”
“I’m next,” said Billy Byrne.
CHAPTER IV. PIRACY
BY DUSK the trim little brigantine was scudding away toward the west before a wind that could not have suited her better had it been made to order at the special behest of the devil himself to speed his minions upon their devil’s work.
All hands were in the best of humor. The crew had forgotten their recent rancor at not having been permitted shore leave at Honolulu in the expectancy of adventure in the near future, for there was that in the atmosphere of the Halfmoon which proclaimed louder than words the proximity of excitement, and the goal toward which they had been sailing since they left San Francisco.
Skipper Simms and Divine were elated at the luck which had brought them to Honolulu in the nick of time, and at the success of Theriere’s mission at that port. They had figured upon a week at least there before the second officer of the Halfmoon could ingratiate himself sufficiently into the goodwill of the Hardings to learn their plans, and now they were congratulating themselves upon their acumen in selecting so fit an agent as the Frenchman for the work he had handled so expeditiously and so well.
Ward was pleased that he had not been forced to prolong the galling masquerade of valet to his inferior officer. He was hopeful, too, that coming events would bring to the fore an opportunity to satisfy the vengeance he had inwardly sworn against the sailor who had so roughly manhandled him a few weeks past — Theriere had not been in error in his estimate of his fellow-officer.
Billy Byrne, the arduous labor of making sail over for the time, was devoting his energies to the task of piecing out from what Theriere had told him and what he had overheard outside the skipper’s cabin some sort of explanation of the work ahead.
As he pondered Theriere’s proposition he saw the wisdom of it. It would give those interested a larger amount of the booty for their share. Another feature of it was that it was underhanded and that appealed strongly to the mucker. Now, if he could but devise some scheme for double-crossing Theriere the pleasure and profit of the adventure would be tripled.
It was this proposition that was occupying his attention when he caught sight of “Bony” Sawyer and “Red” Sanders emerging from the forecastle. Billy Byrne hailed them.
When the mucker had explained the possibilities of profit that were to be had by entering the conspiracy aimed at Simms and Ward the two seamen were enthusiastically for it.
“Bony” Sawyer suggested that the black cook, Blanco, was about the only other member of the crew upon whom they could depend, and at Byrne’s request “Bony” promised to enlist the cooperation of the giant Ethiopian.
From early morning of the second day out of Honolulu keen eyes scanned the eastern horizon through powerful glasses, until about two bells of the afternoon watch a slight smudge became visible about two points north of east. Immediately the course of the Halfmoon was altered so that she bore almost directly north by west in an effort to come safely into the course of the steamer which was seen rising rapidly above the horizon.
The new course of the brigantine was held as long as it seemed reasonably safe without danger of being sighted under full sail by the oncoming vessel, then her head was brought into the wind, and one by one her sails were lowered and furled, as the keen eyes of Second Officer Theriere announced that there was no question but that the white hull in the distance was that of the steam pleasure yacht Lotus.
Upon the deck of the unsuspecting vessel a merry party laughed and chatted in happy ignorance of the plotters in their path. It was nearly half an hour after the Halfmoon had come to rest, drifting idly under bare poles, that the lookout upon the Lotus sighted her.
“Sailin’ vessel lyin’ to, west half south,” he shouted, “flyin’ distress signals.”
In an instant guests and crew had hurried to points of vantage where they might obtain unobstructed view of the stranger, and take advantage of this break in the monotony of a long sea voyage.
Anthony Harding was on the bridge with the captain, and both men had leveled their glasses upon the distant ship.
“Can you make her out?” asked the owner.
“She’s a brigantine,” replied the officer, “and all that I can make out from here would indicate that everything was shipshape about her. Her canvas is neatly furled, and she is evidently well manned, for I can see a number of figures above deck apparently engaged in watching us. I’ll alter our course and speak to her — we’ll see what’s wrong, and give her a hand if we can.”
“That’s right,” replied Harding; “do anything you can for them.”
A moment later he joined his daughter and their guests to report the meager information he had.
“How exciting,” exclaimed Barbara Harding. “Of course it’s not a real shipwreck, but maybe it’s the next thing to it. The poor souls may have been drifting about here in the center of the Pacific without food or water for goodness knows how many weeks, and now just think how they must be lifting their voices in thanks to God for his infinite mercy in guiding us to them.”
“If they’ve been drifting for any considerable number of weeks without food or water,” hazarded Billy Mallory, “about the only things they’ll need’ll be what we didn’t have the foresight to bring along — an undertaker and a preacher.”
“Don’t be horrid, Billy,” returned Miss Harding. “You know perfectly well that I didn’t mean weeks — I meant days; and anyway they’ll be grateful to us for what we can do for them. I can scarcely wait to hear their story.”
Billy Mallory was inspecting the stranger through Mr. Harding’s glass. Suddenly he gave an exclamation of dismay.
“By George!” he cried. “It is serious after all. That ship’s afire. Look, Mr. Harding,” and he passed the glass over to his host.
And sure enough, as the owner of the Lotus found the brigantine again in the center of his lens he saw a thin column of black smoke rising amidships; but what he did not see was Mr. Ward upon the opposite side of the Halfmoon’s cabin superintending the burning by the black cook of a bundle of oily rags in an iron boiler.
“By Jove!” exclaimed Mr.
Harding. “This is terrible. The poor devils are panic-stricken. Look at ’em making for the boats!” and with that he dashed back to the bridge to confer with his captain.
“Yes,” said that officer, “I noticed the smoke about the same time you did — funny it wasn’t apparent before. I’ve already signaled full speed ahead, and I’ve instructed Mr. Foster to have the boats in readiness to lower away if we find that they’re short of boats on the brigantine.
“What I can’t understand,” he added after a moment’s silence, “is why they didn’t show any signs of excitement about that fire until we came within easy sight of them — it looks funny.”
“Well, we’ll know in a few minutes more,” returned Mr. Harding. “The chances are that the fire is just a recent addition to their predicament, whatever it may be, and that they have only just discovered it themselves.”
“Then it can’t have gained enough headway,” insisted the captain, “to cause them any such immediate terror as would be indicated by the haste with which the whole ship’s crew is tumbling into those boats; but as you say, sir, we’ll have their story out of them in a few minutes now, so it’s idle speculating beforehand.”
The officers and men of the Halfmoon, in so far as those on board the Lotus could guess, had all entered the boats at last, and were pulling frantically away from their own ship toward the rapidly nearing yacht; but what they did not guess and could not know was that Mr. Divine paced nervously to and fro in his cabin, while Second Officer Theriere tended the smoking rags that Ward and Blanco had resigned to him that they might take their places in the boats.
Theriere had been greatly disgusted with the turn events had taken for he had determined upon a line of action that he felt sure would prove highly remunerative to himself. It had been nothing less than a bold resolve to call Blanco, Byrne, “Bony,” and “Red” to his side the moment Simms and Ward revealed the true purpose of their ruse to those on board the Lotus, and with his henchmen take sides with the men of the yacht against his former companions.
Delphi Collected Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (Illustrated) (Series Four Book 26) Page 376