The Sun Of Quebec Part 14

"Again it's just a matter of temperament. I'm not trying to change you, and you couldn't change me."

Came another calm, longer than the first. They hung about for days and nights on a hot sea, and captain and crew alike showed anxiety and impatience. The captain was continually watching the horizon with his gla.s.ses, and he talked to Robert less than usual. It was obvious that he felt anxiety.

The calm was broken just before nightfall. Dark had come with the suddenness of the tropic seas. There was a puff of wind, followed by a steady breeze, and the schooner once more sped southward. Robert, anxious to breathe the invigorating air, came upon deck, and standing near the mainmast watched the sea rus.h.i.+ng by. The captain paused near him and said to Robert in a satisfied tone:

"It won't be long now, Peter, until we're among the islands, and it may be, too, that we'll see another s.h.i.+p before long. We've been on a lone sea all the way down, but you'll find craft among the islands."

"It might be a hostile vessel, a privateer," said Robert.

"It's not privateers of which I'm thinking."

The light was dim, but Robert plainly saw the questing look in his eyes, the look of a hunter, and he drew back a pace. This man was no mere smuggler. He would not content himself with such a trade. But he said in his best manner:

"I should think, captain, it was a time to avoid company, and that you would be better pleased with a lone sea."

"One never knows what is coming in these waters," said the slaver. "It may be that we shall have to run away, and I must not be caught off my guard."

But the look in the man's eyes did not seem to Robert to be that of one who wished to run away. It was far more the look of the hunter, and when the hulking mate, Carlos, pa.s.sed near him his face bore a kindred expression. The sailors, too, were eager, attentive, watching the horizon, as if they expected something to appear there.

No attention was paid to Robert, and he remained on the deck, feeling a strong premonition that they were at the edge of a striking event, one that had a great bearing upon his own fate, no matter what its character might be.

The wind rose again, but it did not become a gale. It was merely what a swift vessel would wish, to show her utmost grace and best speed. The moon came out and made a silver sea. The long white wake showed clearly across the waters. The captain never left the deck, but continued to examine the horizon with his powerful gla.s.ses.

Robert, quick to deduce, believed that they were in some part of the sea frequented by s.h.i.+ps in ordinary times and that the captain must be reckoning on the probability of seeing a vessel in the course of the night. His whole manner showed it, and the lad's own interest became so great that he lost all thought of going down to his cabin. Unless force intervened he would stay there and see what was going to happen, because he felt in every fiber that something would surely occur.

An hour, two hours pa.s.sed. The schooner went swiftly on toward the south, the wind singing merrily through the ropes and among the sails.

The captain walked back and forth in a narrow s.p.a.ce, circling the entire horizon with his gla.s.ses at intervals seldom more than five minutes apart. It was about ten o'clock at night when he made a sharp, decisive movement, and a look of satisfaction came over his face. He had been gazing into the west and the lad felt sure that he had seen there that for which he was seeking, but his own eyes, without artificial help, were not yet able to tell him what it was.

The captain called the mate, speaking to him briefly and rapidly, and the sullen face of the Spaniard became alive. An order to the steersman and the course of the schooner was s.h.i.+fted more toward the west. It was evident to Robert that they were not running away from whatever it was out there. The slaver for the first time in a long while took notice of Robert.

"There's another craft in the west, Peter," he said, "and we must have a look at her. Curiosity is a good thing at sea, whatever it may be on sh.o.r.e. When you know what is near you you may be able to protect yourself from danger."

His cynical, indifferent air had disappeared. He was gay, antic.i.p.atory, as if he were going to something that he liked very much. The close-set eyes were full of light, and the thin lips curved into a smile.

"You don't seem to expect danger," said Robert. "It appears to me that you're thinking of just the opposite."

"It's because I've so much confidence in the schooner. If it's a wicked s.h.i.+p over there we'll just show her the fastest pair of heels in the West Indies."

He did not speak again for a full quarter of an hour, but he used the gla.s.ses often, always looking at the same spot on the western horizon.

Robert was at last able to see a black dot there with his una.s.sisted eyes, and he knew that it must be a s.h.i.+p.

"She's going almost due south," said the captain, "and in two hours we should overhaul her."

"Why do you wish to overhaul her?" asked Robert.

"She may be a privateer, a Frenchman, or even a pirate, and if so we must give the alarm to other peaceful craft like ourselves in these waters."

He raised the gla.s.ses again and did not take them down for a full five minutes. Meantime the strange s.h.i.+p came nearer. It was evident to Robert that the two vessels were going down the sides of a triangle, and if each continued on its course they would meet at the point.

The night was steadily growing brighter. The moon was at its fullest, and troops of new stars were coming out. Robert saw almost as well as by day. He was soon able to distinguish the masts and sails of the stranger, and to turn what had been a black blur into the shape and parts of a s.h.i.+p. He was able, too, to tell that the stranger was keeping steadily on her course, but the schooner, obeying her tiller, was drawing toward her more and more.

"They don't appear to be interested in us," he said to the captain.

"No," replied the man, "but they should be. They show a lack of that curiosity which I told you is necessary at sea, and it is my duty to overtake them and tell them so. We must not have any incautious s.h.i.+ps sailing in these strange waters."

Ten minutes later he called the mate and gave a command. Cutla.s.ses and muskets with powder and ball were put at convenient points. Every man carried at least one pistol and a dirk in his belt. The captain himself took two pistols and a cutla.s.s.

"Merely a wise precaution, Peter," he said, "in case our peaceful neighbor, to whom we wish to give a useful warning, should turn out to be a pirate."

Robert in the moonlight saw his eyes gleam and his lips curve once more into a smile. He had seen enough of men in crucial moments to know that the slaver was happy, that he was rejoicing in some great triumph that he expected to achieve. In spite of himself he s.h.i.+vered and looked at the stranger. The tracery of masts and spars was growing clearer and the dim figures of men were visible on her decks.

"Oh, we'll meet later," said the captain exultantly. "Don't deceive yourself about that. There is a swift wind behind us and the speed of both s.h.i.+ps is increasing."

Robert looked over the side. The sea was running in white caps and above his head the wind was whistling. The schooner rolled and his footing grew unsteady, but it was only a fine breeze to the sailors, just what they loved. Suddenly the captain burst into a great laugh.

"The fools! the fools!" he exclaimed. "As I live, they're pleasuring here in the most dangerous seas in the world! Music in the moonlight!"

"What do you mean?" asked Robert, astonished.

"Just what I say! A madness hath o'ercome 'em! Take a look through the gla.s.ses, Peter, and see a n.o.ble sight, but a strange one at such a time."

He clapped the gla.s.ses to Robert's eyes. The other s.h.i.+p, suddenly came near to them, and grew fourfold in size. Every detail of her stood out sharp and vivid in the moonlight, a stout craft with all sails set to catch the good wind, a fine merchantman by every token, nearing the end of a profitable voyage. Discipline was not to say somewhat relaxed, but at least kindly, the visible evidence of it an old sailor sitting with his back against the mast playing vigorously upon a violin, while a dozen other men stood around listening.

"Look at 'em, Peter. Look at 'em," laughed the captain. "It's a most n.o.ble sight! Watch the old fellow playing the fiddle, and I'll lay my eyes that in a half minute or so you'll have some of the sailormen dancing."

Robert shuddered again. The glee in the slaver's voice was wicked. The cynical jesting tone was gone and in its place was only unholy malice.

But Robert was held by the scene upon the deck of the stranger.

"Yes, two of the sailors have begun to dance," he said. "They're young men and clasping each other about the shoulders, they're doing a hornpipe. I can see the others clapping their hands and the old fellow plays harder than ever."

"Ah, idyllic! Most idyllic, I vow!" exclaimed the captain. "Who would have thought, Peter, to have beheld such a sight in these seas! 'Tis a childhood dream come back again! 'Tis like the lads and maids sporting on the village green! Ah, the lambs! the innocents! There is no war for them. It does my soul good, Peter, to behold once more such innocent trust in human nature."

The shudder, more violent than ever, swept over Robert again. He felt that he was in the presence of something unclean, something that exhaled the foul odor of the pit. The man had become wholly evil, and he shrank away.

"Steady, Peter," said the slaver. "Why shouldn't you rejoice with the happy lads on yon s.h.i.+p? Think of your pleasant fortune to witness such a play in the West Indian seas, the merry sailormen dancing to the music in the moonlight, the s.h.i.+p sailing on without care, and we in our schooner bearing down on 'em to secure our rightful share in the festival. Ah, Peter, we must go on board, you and I and Carlos and more stout fellows and sing and dance with 'em!"

Robert drew back again. It may have been partly the effect of the moonlight, and partly the mirror of his own mind through which he looked, but the captain's face had become wholly that of a demon. The close-set eyes seemed to draw closer together than ever, and they were flas.h.i.+ng. His hand, sinewy and strong, settled upon the b.u.t.t of a pistol in his belt, but, in a moment, he raised it again and took the gla.s.ses from Robert. After a long look he exclaimed:

"They dream on! They fiddle and dance with their whole souls, Peter, my lad, and such trusting natures shall be rewarded!"

Robert could see very well now without the aid of the gla.s.ses. The sailor who sat on a coil of rope with his back against a mast, playing the violin, was an old man, his head bare, his long white hair flying.

It was yet too far away for his face to be disclosed, but Robert knew that his expression must be rapt, because his att.i.tude showed that his soul was in his music. The two young sailors, with their arms about the shoulders of each other, were still dancing, and two more had joined them.

The crowd of spectators had thickened. Evidently it was a s.h.i.+p with a numerous crew, perhaps a rich merchantman out of Bristol or Boston. No flag was flying over her. That, however, was not unusual in those seas, and in times of war when a man waited to see the colors of his neighbor before showing his own. But Robert was surprised at the laxity of discipline on the stranger. They should be up and watching, inquiring into the nature of the schooner that was drawing so near.

"And now, Peter," said the captain, more exultant than ever, "you shall see an unveiling! It is not often given to a lad like you, a landsman, to behold such a dramatic act at sea, a scene so powerful and complete that it might have been devised by one of the great Elizabethans! Ho, Carlos, make ready!"

He gave swift commands and the mate repeated them as swiftly to the men.