Wolves of the Sea - Randall Parrish
When I came back once more to life I knew immediately I was upon the
schooner's deck, breathing the fresh night air. I could see the
outline of the helmsman in the little circle of binnacle light, a ray
of which extended far enough to assure me of the presence of Dorothy.
I watched her for some time, my mind slowly clearing to the situation,
and, it was not until I spoke, that she became aware I had recovered
consciousness.
"Dorothy."
"Yes, yes," she bent lower eagerly. "Oh, I am so glad to hear you
speak. Watkins said you were not seriously hurt, but your clothes were
torn into shreds, and you bled terribly."
"It was not a nightmare then; I really fought that beast?"
"Yes; but it is too horrible to think about--I--I shall never blot out
the sight."
"You saw what occurred yourself?" I questioned in astonishment. "You
actually came below? Then I did hear voices, and see a light, before
my senses left me?"
"Yes; Watkins heard the noise of struggle, the cries of the brute, and
woke me. At first he was afraid to go into the cabin, but I made him,
rather than let me go alone. The only light we had was a torch, made
from a rope end. We got there just as you fell. I saw you staggering
on your knees, and that beast outstretched on deck, a great gash in
its skull. Watkins says it was a chimpanzee."
"It was a huge ape of some kind, crazed with hunger no doubt." I sat
up, aware of the smart of my wounds, but already convinced they were
not deep or dangerous. "You did not look about? You took no note of
what was in the room?"
"No," puzzled at my sudden interest. "I had no thought of anything but
you. At first I believed you dead, until I felt the beat of your
pulse. The light revealed little, until Watkins found the overturned
lantern, and relit the candle."
"But I saw not even that much; the fight was in pitch darkness, yet I
struck against things not furniture--what were they?"
"Oh, you mean that! I think it must have been a storeroom of some
kind, for there were casks and boxes piled up, and a strange
iron-bound chest was against one wall. I sat on it, and held the
lantern while Watkins saw to your wounds. Then we carried you up
here."
"That is the answer I sought. Yes, you must let me get up, dear. Oh, I
can stand alone; a little weak from loss of blood yet, but none the
worse off. Where is Watkins?"
"He went forward. Do you need him?"
"Perhaps it can wait until daylight. You know what I ventured below
for?"
"To learn if there was treasure hidden aboard; you hoped such a
discovery would induce the men to sail this schooner to the
Chesapeake."
"Yes, and now I believe there is--hidden away in the locked room and
guarded by that ape. In all probability no one but Paradilla knew the
creature was on board, and he could have had no better guardian. No
sailor would ever face the brute."
We may have talked there for an hour, Watkins joining us finally, and
listening to my story. My wounds, while painful enough, were all of
the flesh, and the flow of blood being easily staunched, my strength
returned quickly. To my surprise the hour was but little after
midnight, and I had so far recovered when the watch was changed, as to
insist on Watkins going forward, leaving me in charge of the deck. I
felt no desire for sleep, and so he finally yielded to my orders, and
curled up in a blanket in the lee of the galley. The girl was harder
to manage, yet, when I left her alone, she lay down on her bed of
flags. Twice later she lifted her head, and spoke as I passed, but at
last remained motionless, while I carefully covered her with an extra
blanket.
The time did not seem long to me as I paced the deserted deck aft, or
went forward occasionally to assure myself that the lookouts on the
forecastle were alert. There was nothing to see or do, the sea and sky
both so black as to be indistinguishable, and the breeze barely heavy
enough to distend the canvas, giving the schooner a speed not to
exceed six knots, I suspicioned a storm in the hatching, but nothing
evidenced its near approach. However my thoughts busied me, and
vanished all drowsiness. I believed I had won a way to freedom--to a
government pardon. The good fortune which had befallen me in the
salvage of this vessel, as well as our success against the pirates of
the _Namur_, could scarcely be ignored by the authorities of Virginia,
while the rescue of Dorothy Fairfax, and her pleading in our behalf,
would commend us to mercy, and reward from the very highest officials.
The money, the treasure, I personally thought nothing about, willing
enough that it should go to others; but I was ambitious to regain my
honor among men, my place of respectability in the world, for the one
vital purpose which now dominated my mind--that I might claim Dorothy
Fairfax with clean hands. My love, and the confession of her own, had
brought to me a new vista, a fresh hope. It seemed to me already her
faith had inspired me with new power--power to transform dream into
reality.
I stood above her motionless figure as she lay asleep, and solemnly
took a resolve. At whatever cost to myself, or others, the _Santa
Marie_ should sail in between the Capes to the waters of the
Chesapeake. Be the result reward or punishment, liberty or freedom,
the chance must be accepted, for her sake, as well as my own.
CHAPTER XXX
OPENING THE TREASURE CHEST
The dawn came slowly, and with but little increase of light. The
breeze had almost entirely died away, leaving the canvas aloft
motionless, the schooner barely moving through a slightly heaving sea,
in the midst of a dull-gray mist. It was a dismal outlook, the decks
wet, the sails dripping moisture, and nothing to look about upon but
wreaths of fog. Even as the sun rose, its rays failed to penetrate
this cloud bank, or yield slightest color to the scene. It was all
gray, gloomy, mysterious--a narrow stretch of water, disappearing so
suddenly the eye could not determine ocean from sky. The upper masts
vanished into the vapor, and, from where I stood aft, I could but
dimly perceive the open deck amidships. The light yet burning in the
binnacle was hazy and dull.
There was to my mind a threat in the weather, expressed in the silence
overhead, as well as in the sullen swell underfoot. We could not be
far from the coast--a coast line of which I knew next to nothing--and,
at any instant, the blinding fog encircling us might be swept aside by
some sudden atmospheric change, catching us aback, and leaving us
helpless upon the waters. Again and again I had witnessed storms burst
from just such conditions, and we were far too short-handed to take
any unnecessary risk. I talked with Harwood at the wheel, and waited,
occasionally walking over to the rail, and peering out into the mist
uneasily. It seemed to me the heave of water beneath our keel grew
heavier, the fog more dense, the mystery more profound. Safety was
better than progress, particularly as there was no real object any
longer in our clinging to a westerly course. The sensible thing was to
lay too until the enveloping fog blew away, explore that room below,
and explain my plans to the men.
This determined upon I called all hands, and with Watkins in command
forward, preceded to strip the vessel of canvas, leaving exposed only
a jib sheet, with closely reefed foresail, barely enough to give the
wheelsman control. This required some time and compelled me to lay
hold with the others, and, when the last gasket had been secured, and
the men aloft returned to the deck, Sam had the galley fire burning,
and breakfast nearly ready. The lads, saturated with moisture, and in
anything but good humor, were soon restored to cheerfulness, and I
left them, sitting about on deck and returned aft, where Dorothy,
aroused by the noise, stood, well wrapped up, near the rail.
Sleep had refreshed her greatly, her eyes welcoming me, a red flush on
either cheek.
"Have you been up all night?"
"Yes, but I would hardly know it--a sleepless night means nothing to a
sailor."
"But it was so selfish of me to sleep all those hours."
"I had you to think about; all we have said to each other, and our
plans."
"What are they? You have determined?"
"To do as you suggested. It is the braver, and, I believe, the better
way. The difficulty is going to lie in convincing the crew of their
safety. I shall explore below before having a talk with them."
"In hope of discovering treasure to be divided?"
"Yes, that will have greater weight with those fellows than any
argument, or promise. Here comes Sam with our breakfast; we will eat
here from the flag locker."
The negro served us with some skill, and, discovering we were hungry,
both did full justice to the well-cooked fare. The denseness of the
fog hid the men from us, but we could hear their voices, and
occasionally a burst of laughter. We were talking quietly together,
and had nearly finished, when Watkins emerged through the mist, and
approached respectfully.
"You did not like the look o' things, sir?" he asked, staring out into
the smother astern.
"I've seen storms born from such fogs," I answered, "and know nothing
of this coast."
"You think then it's not far away--out yonder?"
"It is all a guess; we made good progress most of the night, and I
have no confidence in the chart. There are headlands hereabout, and we
might be within hail of one at this minute. It is safer to lie quiet
until the mist lifts. By the way, Watkins--"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Miss Fairfax tells me that was a storeroom in which I fought the ape
last night."
"It was, sir." "And she reports having seen a chest, iron-bound,
among the other stuff. Did you notice it?"
He walked across to the rail, spat overboard, and came back, politely
wiping his lips on his sleeve.
"Yes, sir, I did; it was stored ter starboard, an ol'fashioned sea
chest, padlocked, an' looked like a relic, but a damned strong box.
You think maybe there's gold in it?"
"Likely enough. I found about five hundred pounds in the Captain's
room; but there must be more aboard, unless it was left behind in
Cuba. My idea is that was why the monkey was locked up in there--to
guard the treasure. Does that sound reasonable?"
He scratched his head, his eyes wandering from her face to mine.
"Yes, sir, it does. I've heard o' such things afore. A chimpanzee is
better'n a big dog on such a job; thar ain't no sailor who would
tackle the beast."
"That was my way of looking at it. So while we are lying here, and the
lads are in good humor--hear that laugh--I am going to find out what's
in the chest. After I know, I'll talk to the men. Do you agree?"
He nodded, but without speaking.
"Are you willing to go below with me?"
"I ain't overly anxious 'bout it, Mister Carlyle," he replied gruffly,
plucking awkwardly at the peak of his cap. "I'm a seaman, sir, an'
know my duty, an' so I'll go 'long if yer wus ter order me to. Yer
know that; but I ain't fergot yet this yere is a cholera ship, an'
it's goin' ter be as black as night down thar in thet cabin--"
"Don't urge him Geoffry," the girl interrupted, her hand on my
sleeve. "Leave him here on deck, I am not in the least afraid, and
all you need is someone to hold the light. Please let me do that."
I looked down into her eyes, and smiled.
"Suppose we should encounter another ape?"
"Then I would want to be with you," she responded quickly. "You are
going to consent?"
"I suppose I am, although if there was the slightest danger my answer
would be otherwise. Keep the men busy, Watkins, while we are
gone--don't give them time to ask questions. You brought the lantern
on deck?"
"Yes, sir; it's over there against the grating."
"Very well; we'll light up in the companion, so the flame will not be
seen by the crew. Coming, Dorothy?"
She accompanied me cheerfully, but her hand grasped mine as we groped
our way down the stairs into the dark cabin. A faint glimmer of gray
daylight filtered through the glass from above, and found entrance at
the open ports, but the place was nevertheless gloomy enough, and we
needed what little help the candle afforded to find our way about. The
memories haunted us both, and hurried us to our special mission. The
door of the storeroom stood wide open, but the after ports were
closed, the air within heated and foul. Dorothy held the lantern, her
hands trembling slightly, as I stepped across and unscrewed both
ports. The moist fog blew in upon me but was welcome, although I
stared forth into a bank of impenetrable mist.
The dead ape lay just as he had fallen, with his hideous face
upturned, and a great gash in the head. The hatchet with which I had
dealt the blow, rested on the deck, disfigured with blood. The
hugeness of the creature, its repulsive aspect in death, with savage
teeth gleaming in the rays of the lantern, and long, hairy arms
outspread, gave me such a shock, I felt my limbs tremble. For a moment
I could not remove my eyes from the spectacle, or regain control of my
nerves. Then I some way saw the horror, reflected in her face, and
realized the requirements of leadership.
"He was certainly a big brute," I said quietly, "and it was a lucky
stroke which finished him. Now to complete our work in here and get
out."
I picked up the hatchet, and my glance sought the whereabouts of the
chest. The light was confusing, and she stepped forward, throwing the
dim yellow flame directly upon the object.
"This is what I saw--see; does it look like a treasure chest to you?"
"If it be not, I never saw one--and a hundred years old, if it is a
day. What a story of the sea it might tell if it had a tongue. There
is no way to find its secrets but to break it open. Place the lantern
on this cask of wine; now, if I can gain purchase with the blade, it
will be easily accomplished."
It proved harder than I had believed, the staple of the lock clinging
to the hard teak wood of which the chest was made. I must have been
ten minutes at it, compelled to use a wooden bar as lever, before it
yielded, groaning as it finally released its grip, like a soul in
agony. I felt the girl clutch me in terror at the sound, her
frightened eyes searching the shadows, but I was interested by then to
learn what was within, and gave all my effort to lifting the lid.
This was heavy, as though weighted with lead, but as I finally forced
it backward, a hinge snapped, and permitted it to drop crashing to the
deck. For an instant I could see nothing within--no more indeed than
some dimly revealed outline, the nature of which could not be
determined. Yet, somehow, it gave me an impression, horrible,
grotesque, of a human form. I gripped the side of the chest afraid to
reach downward.
"Lift up the lantern--Dorothy, please. No, higher than that. What in
God's name? Why, it is the corpse of a woman!"
I heard her cry out, and barely caught the lantern as it fell from her
hand. The hatchet struck the deck with a sharp clang, and I felt the
frightened clasp of the girl's fingers on my sleeve. Yet I scarcely
realized these things, my entire attention focussed on what was now
revealed writhin the chest. At first I doubted the evidence of my own
eyes, snatching the bit of flaring candle from its tin socket, and
holding it where the full glare of light fell across the grewsome
object. Ay, it was a woman, with lower limbs doubled back from lack of
space, but otherwise lying as though she slept, so perfect in
preservation her cheeks appeared flushed with health, her lips half
smiling. It was a face of real beauty--an English face, although her
eyes and hair were dark, and her mantilla, and long earrings were
unquestionably Spanish. A string of pearls encircled her throat, and
there were numerous rings upon her fingers. The very contrast added
immeasurably to the horror.
"She is alive! Surely she is alive?" the words were sobbed into my
ear, trembling from Dorothy's lips, as though she could barely utter
them. I stared into her face, the sight of her terror, arousing me
from stupor.
"Alive! No, that is impossible!" and conquering a repugnance, such as
I had never before experienced, I touched the figure with my hand,
"The flesh is like stone," I said, "thus held lifelike by some magic
of the Indies. I have heard of such skill but never before realized
its perfection. Good God! she actually seems to breathe. What can it
all mean? Who could the woman be? And why should her body be thus
carried about at sea. Is it love, or hate?"
"Not love, Geoffry. Love would never do this thing. It is hate, the
gloating of revenge; there can be no other answer--this is the end of
a tragedy."
"The truth of which will never be known."
"Are you sure? Is there nothing hidden with her in there to tell who
she was, or how she died?"
There was nothing, not a scrap of paper, not even the semblance of a
wound exposed. The smile on those parted lips had become one of
mockery; I could bear the sight no longer, and rose to my feet,
clasping Dorothy close to me, as she still gazed down in fascination
at the ghastly sight.
"We will never know. The man who could tell is dead."
"Captain Paradilla?"
"Who else could it be? This was his schooner, and here he alone could
hide such a secret. There is nothing more we can learn, and the horror
unnerves me. Hold the light, dear, while I replace the lid of the
chest."
It required my utmost effort to accomplish this, yet I succeeded in
sliding the heavy covering back inch by inch, until it fell finally
into place. I was glad to have the thing hidden, to escape the stare
of those fixed eyes, the death smile of those red lips. It was no
longer a reality, but a dream of delirium; I dare not think, or
speculate--my only desire being to get away, to get Dorothy away. My
eyes swept about through the confusing shadows, half expecting to be
confronted by other ghosts of the past, but all they encountered were
the indistinct outlines of casks and boxes, and the hideous hairy
figure of the ape, outstretched upon the deck. The candle fluttered in
the girl's shaking hand, the yellow glare forming weird reflections,
ugly shapes along the wall. God! what if it should go out, leaving us
lost and groping about in this chamber of horrors? In absolute terror
I drew her with me to the open door--then stopped, paralyzed; the half
revealed figure of a man appeared on the cabin stairs.
"Stop! who are you?"
"Watkins, sir. I came below to call you. There's sumthin' bloomin' odd
takin' place out there in the fog, Captain Carlyle. We want yer on
deck, sir, right away."
CHAPTER XXXI
THE BOAT ATTACK
He waited for us just without the companion, but my eyes caught
nothing unusual as I emerged into the daylight. I could barely see
amidships, but thus far the deck was clear, and on either side hung
the impenetrable bank of cloud, leaving sea and sky invisible. Simmes
was at the wheel, with no other member of the crew in sight.
"What is it, Watkins? Where are the men?"
"Forrard, sir, a hangin' over the starboard rail. Thar's somethin'
cursedly strange a happenin' in that damn fog. Harwood was the first
ter hear the clatter ov en oar slippin' in a rowlock. I thought the
feller wus crazy, till I heerd sumthin' also, an' then, sir, while we
wus still a listenin' we both caught sound ov a Spanish oath, spoke as
plain as if the buck was aboard."
"You saw nothing?"
"Not so much as a shadder, sir."
"A lost boat, likely--ship-wrecked sailors adrift in the fog; perhaps
our other quarter-boat. No one hailed them?"
"No, sir; I told the men ter keep still till I called you. It might be
a cuttin'-out party; this ain't no coast fer any honest sailors ter be
huggin' up to, an' I didn't like that feller talkin' Spanish."
"But if their purpose is to take us by surprise," I said, "they'd be
more cautious about it."
"Maybe they didn't know how near they was. 'Tain't likely they kin see
us much better 'n we kin see them. The sea's got an ugly swell to it,
an' the feller likely cussed afore he thought. Enyhow it wa' n't my
place ter hail 'em."
"All right; where are they?"
"Straight off the starboard quarter, sir."
The crew were all gathered there, staring out into the mist,
whispering to each other. Even they were indistinct, their faces
unrecognizable, until I pressed my way in among them. I brought up
beside Harwood.
"Hear anything more?"
"Not yet, sir," peering about to make sure of who spoke, "but there's
a boat out yonder; I'll swear to that."
"How far away when you heard them?"
"Not mor'n fifty fathoms, an' maybe not that--the voice sounded
clearest."
We may have been clinging there, a minute or two, breathlessly
listening, our hands tensely gripping the rail. My coming had silenced
the others, and we waited motionless, the stillness so intense I could
hear the lapping of waves against the side, and the slight creak of a
rope aloft. Then a voice spoke directly in front of me out from the
dense fog, a peculiar, penetrating voice, carrying farther than the
owner probably thought, and distinctly audible.
"Try the port oar, Pedro; we must have missed the damn ship."
I straightened up as though struck, my eyes seeking those of Harwood,
who stared back at me, his mouth wide open in astonishment.
"You heard that?" I whispered. "Do you know who spoke?"
"By God, do I? Dead, or alive, sir, it was Manuel Estevan."
"Ay; no other, and alive enough no doubt. Lads, come close to me, and
listen--they must not hear us out there. By some devil's trick the
_Namur_ has followed our course, or else yonder are a part of his crew
cast away. They clearly know of us--perhaps had a glimpse through some
rift in the cloud--and are seeking to board with a boat party. 'Tis
not likely those devils know who we are; probably take us for a
merchant ship becalmed in the fog, and liable to become an easy prey,
if they can only slip up on us unseen. How are you, bullies? Ready to
battle your old mates?"
"Those were no mates o' ours, sir," said Watkins indignantly. "They
are half-breed mongrels, and no sailors; Estevan is a hell-hound, an'
so far as my voice goes, I'd rather die on this deck than ever agin be
a bloody pirate. Is that the right word, lads?"
The others grumbled assent, but their muttered words had in them a
ring of sincerity, and their faces exhibited no cowardice. Harwood
alone asked a question.
"I'm fer fightin', sir," he said grimly, "but what'll we use? Them
lads ain't comin' aboard bare-handed, but damn if I've seed a weapon
on this hooker."
"Dar's three knives, an' a meat cleaver in der galley, sah," chimed in
Sam.
"We'll do well enough; some of you have your sheath knives yet, and
the rest can use belaying pins, and capstan bars. The point is to not
let them get aboard, and, if there is only one boat, we will be pretty
even-handed. Pick up what you can, and man this rail--quietly now,
hearties, and keep your eyes open."
It proved a longer wait than I expected. The fog gave us no glimpse of
the surrounding water, and not another sound enabled us to locate the
approaching boat. I felt convinced we had not been overheard, as no
one had spoken above a whisper, and the men aboard had been noiseless
in their movements about deck, I had compelled Dorothy to remain on
the port side of the cabin, removed from all danger, and the only
upright figure in sight was the man at the wheel. The rest of us
crouched along the starboard rail, peering out into the mist, and
listening for the slightest sound. They were a motley crew, armed with
every conceivable sort of knife or war club, but sturdy fellows, ready
and willing enough to give a good account of themselves. Watkins was
forward, swallowed up in the smother of mist, but Schmitt held a place
next me, a huge, ungainly figure in the dull light. So still it was I
began to doubt having heard the voice at all--could it have been
imagination? But no; that was impossible, for the sound had reached
all of us alike. Somewhere out yonder, that boat was creeping along
silently, seeking blindly through the fog to reach our side
unobserved--those Wolves of the Sea had the scent.
I do not know how long the suspense lasted, but, I have never felt a
greater strain on my nerves. Every deeper shadow increased the
tension, imagination playing strange tricks, as I stared fixedly into
the void, and trembled at the slightest sound. Once I was sure I heard
the splash of an oar, but no one on deck spoke, and I remained silent.
The faint creaking of a rope aloft caused my heart to thump, and when
a loosened edge of canvas slapped the mast in a sudden breath of air,
it sounded to me like a burst of thunder. Where were the fellows? Had
they abandoned their search, confused by the fog; or were they still
stealthily seeking to locate our position? Could there be more than
one boat, and if not what force of men might such a boat contain?
These questions never left me, and were alike unanswerable. Unable to
withstand inaction any longer I arose to my feet, thinking to pass
down the line with a word of encouragement to each man. A glance
upward told me the heavy mist was passing, driven away by a light
breeze from the south. Through the thick curtain which still clung to
the deck, I could perceive the upper spars, already tipped with
sunlight, and edges of reefed canvas flapping in the wind. The
schooner felt the impulse, the bow swinging sharply to port, and I
turned and took a few steps aft, thinking to gauge our progress by the
wake astern. I was abaft the cabin on the port side when Dorothy
called my name--a sudden accent of terror in her voice.