The Stowaway Girl Part 15

"What if you fail?"

"We must not fail," he said quietly.

"Please do not hide the alternative from me," she pleaded. "I have endured so much----"

"Well, don't you see, this man--who, by the way, is married, and has a daughter aged fourteen--will, if necessary, reveal your presence to the Governor. By that time, say, in a day or two, the excitement will have died down, the news of your escape will be cabled to England, you will be sent to the coast on the Government steamer, and you can travel home by the next mail."

"That sounds very simple--and European," she said, and the pathetic sarcasm was not lost on him.

"It is reasonable enough. Unfortunately for us, all the bother centers round Senhor De Sylva, to whom we owe our lives. He is outside at the moment, showing our skipper the lay of the land before the light fails, so I am free to speak plainly. When he is dead there will be no further trouble, till the next revolution. But why endeavor to look ahead when seeing is impossible? At present, what really presses is the necessity that you should eat and drink. We have shared out the whole of the available food. Here is your portion. We deemed it best to give the men one square meal. They know now that they must earn the next one."

With each instant her perceptive powers were quickening. She was aware that he had deliberately avoided the main issue. De Sylva's probable death implied a good deal, but it was the supreme test of her courage that she refrained from useless questioning. Yet she thrust aside the two bananas and supply of dried meat and crusts that Hozier placed before her.

"I cannot eat," she murmured, striving to control her voice.

"But you must. It is imperative. You would not wish to break down at the very moment your best energies will be in demand. Our lives, as well as your own, may depend on your strength. Come, Miss Yorke, no woman could have been pluckier than you. Don't fail us now."

The gloom was deepening momentarily. Hozier's back was turned to the entrance, and, in the ever-growing darkness, she was unable to see his face; but his anxious protest in no wise deceived her; she even smiled again at the ruse that attempted to saddle her with some measure of responsibility for the success or failure of the raid.

"If I promise to eat--and drink this sour wine--will you be candid?"

she asked.

"Well----"

"One must bargain. There is no other way. . . . Promise!"

"I suppose you mean that I must agree to please you by wild guessing about events that may turn out quite differently."

"Candid, I said."

"Yes--that most certainly."

"In the first place, may we go into the fresh air? I must have slept many hours. What time is it?"

"About seven o'clock."

"Seven! Have I been lying here since goodness knows what time this morning?"

"You were thoroughly used up," he said, and he added, with a laugh: "If it is any consolation, I may tell you that, to the best of my belief, you never moved nor uttered a sound."

"For instance, I didn't snore," she cried, rising to her feet, and thanking the kindly night that veiled her untidiness.

"I--don't--think so."

"Oh, please be more positive than that. You send a cold s.h.i.+ver down my back."

"Several members of the _Andromeda's_ crew also indulged in a prolonged siesta," he said. "I a.s.sure you it was almost out of the question to divide the sleepers into snorers and non-snorers."

A man will talk harmless nonsense of that sort when he is at his wit's end to wriggle out of a perplexing situation. Hozier was deputed to obtain the girl's consent to the proposal he had already put before her. He feared that she would refuse compliance, for he understood her fine temper better than the others. He was a young man--one but little versed in the ways of women--yet some instinct warned him that there was a n.o.bility in Iris Yorke's nature that might set self at naught and urge her to share her companions' lot, even though certain death were the outcome.

They pa.s.sed together through the cavern. Watts, sound asleep, was lying there. The majority of the men were seated on the rocks without, or lounging near the entrance. They were smoking now freely, the only stipulation being that matches were not to be struck in the open.

Their whispered talk ceased when they saw the girl. Absorbed in the prospect of a fight for life, for the moment they had forgotten her, but a murmured tribute of sympathy and recognition greeted her appearance.

The Irishman found his tongue first.

"Begorrah, miss," he said, "but it's the proud man I'll be the next time I see you smilin' from the kay side at Liverpool, no matter whether I'm there meself or not."

No one laughed at the absurd phrase which so clearly expressed its meaning. But the s.h.i.+p's cook, Peter, noting the strips of dried meat in her hands, raised a grin by saying:

"Sorry the galley fire is out, miss, or I'd 'ave stewed 'em a bit."

This kindly badinage was gratifying, though it helped to reveal the interrupted topic of their conversation. There was no hiding the desperate character of the coming adventure. The _Andromeda's_ crew did not attempt to minimize it. The choice offered lay only in the manner of their death. As to the prospect of ultimate escape, they hardly gave it a thought. Some among them had served in the armies of Europe, and they, at least, were under no delusion concerning the issue of an attack on a fort by less than a score of unarmed men--seventeen to be exact, since two of the s.h.i.+p's company were so maimed by the bursting of the sh.e.l.l on the forecastle as to be practically helpless; it was by the rarest good fortune that they were able to walk.

Iris smiled at them in her frank way.

"I hope you will all be spared to s.h.i.+p on a new _Andromeda_," she said.

No sooner had the words left her lips than the thought came unbidden: "If my uncle and Captain c.o.ke wished the s.h.i.+p to be thrown away, nothing could have better suited their purposes than this tragic error."

For the instant, the unforeseen outcome of that Sunday afternoon's plotting in the peaceful garden of Linden House held her imagination.

She recalled each syllable of it, and there throbbed in her brain the hitherto undreamed of possibility that c.o.ke had brought the _Andromeda_ to Fernando Noronha in pursuance of his thievish project.

At once she whispered to Hozier:

"Is there anyone on the path below?"

"No," he said. "The Brazilians are with c.o.ke at the top of the gully."

"Is it safe for us to go the other way."

"I think so. But you must be careful not to slip."

She caught his arm, little knowing the thrill her clasp sent through his frame. This simple gesture of her confidence was bitter-sweet. He resolutely closed his eyes to the knowledge that this might be their last talk.

"I shall not fall," she said. "I am a good mountaineer. I learnt the trick of it in c.u.mberland. Come with me. There is a pleasant breeze blowing from the sea."

They climbed down. Neither spoke until they stood on the curving ledge that had proved their salvation. Though the tide was rising again, the heavy sea was gone. The current still created some spume and noise as it swept past the reef, but its anger had vanished with the gale.

Beyond the fringe of broken water a slight swell only served to mirror in countless facets the tender light of a perfect sunset. The eastern horizon was a broad line of silver. Nearer, the shadow of the island created bands of purest green and ultramarine.

They reached the place from which the Brazilians had thrown the rope.

They could hear the quiet plash of the water in the cleft. Piled against a low-lying rock were the funnel and other debris of the _Andromeda_. The black hull was plainly visible beneath the surface.

Even while they were looking at the wreck a huge fish curled his ten feet of length with stealthy grace from out some dim recess; it might be, perhaps, from out the crushed sh.e.l.l of the chart-room.

Hozier glanced at his companion. He half expected her to shrink back appalled at this sinister sight; it was her destiny to surprise him not once but many times during that amazing period.

"Is that a shark?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. . . . You stipulated for candor, you know."