The Sun Of Quebec Part 17

An opening in the line of reefs disclosed itself, and the boat shot toward it. He heard the captain shout, but did not understand what he said, then they were wrenched violently to the left by a powerful current. He saw the black rocks frowning directly over him, and felt the boat sc.r.a.pe against them. The whole side of it was cut away, and they were all hurled into the sea.

Robert was not conscious of what he did. He acted wholly from impulse and the instinctive love of life that is in every one. He felt the water pour over him, and fill eye, ear and nostril, but he was not hurled against rock. He struck out violently, but was borne swiftly away, not knowing in which direction he was taken.

He became conscious presently that the force driving him on was not so great and he cleared the water from his eyes enough to see that he had been carried through the opening and toward a sandy beach. His mind became active and strong in an instant. Chance had brought him life, if he only had the presence of mind to take it. He struck out for the land with all his vigor, hoping to reach it before he could be carried back by a returning wave.

The wave caught him, but it was not as powerful as he had feared, and, when he had yielded a little, he was able to go forward again. Then he saw a head bobbing upon the crest of the next retreating wave and being carried out to sea. It was the captain, and reaching out a strong arm Robert seized him. The shock caused him to thrust down his feet, and to his surprise he touched bottom. Grasping the captain with both hands he dragged him with all his might and ran inland.

It was partly an instinctive impulse to save and partly genuine feeling that caused him to seize the slaver when he was being swept helpless out to sea. The man, even though in a malicious, jeering way, had done him some kindnesses on the schooner and in the boat, and he could not see him drown before his eyes. So he settled his grasp upon his collar, held his head above the water and strove with all his might to get beyond the reach of the cruel sea. Had he been alone he could have reached the land with ease, but the slaver pulled upon him almost a dead weight.

Another returning wave caught him and made him stagger, but he settled his feet firmly in the sand, held on to the unconscious man, and when it had pa.s.sed made a great effort to get beyond the reach of any other. He was forced half to lift, half to drag the slaver's body, but he caught the crest of the next incoming wave, one of unusual height and strength, and the two were carried far up the beach. When it died in foam and spray he lifted the man wholly and ran until he fell exhausted on the sand. When another wave roared inland it did not reach him, and no others came near. As if knowing they were baffled, they gave up a useless pursuit.

Robert lay a full half hour, supine, completely relaxed, only half conscious. Yet he was devoutly thankful. The precious gift of life had been saved, the life that was so young, so strong and so buoyant in him.

The sea, immense, immeasurable and savage might leap for him, but it could no longer reach him. He was aware of that emotion, and he was thankful too that an Infinite Hand had been stretched out to save him in his moment of direst peril.

He came out of his cataleptic state, which was both a mental and physical effect, and stood up. The air was still dim with heavy clouds and the wind continuously whistled its anger. He noticed for the first time that it was raining, but it was a trifle to him, as he had already been thoroughly soaked by the sea.

The sea itself was as wild as ever. Wave after wave roared upon the land to break there, and then rush back in ma.s.ses of foam. As far as Robert could see the surface of the water, lashed by the storm, was wild and desolate to the last degree. It was almost as if he had been cast away on another planet. A feeling of irrepressible, awful loneliness overpowered him.

"Well, Peter, we're here."

It was a feeble voice, but it was a human one, the voice of one of his own kind, and, in that dreary wilderness of the ocean, it gave welcome relief as it struck upon his ear. He looked down. The slaver, returned to consciousness, had drawn himself into a sitting position and was looking out at the gray waters.

"I've a notion, Peter," he said, "that you've saved my life. The last I remember was being engulfed in a very large and very angry ocean. It was kind of you, Peter, after I kidnapped you away from your friends, meaning to sell you into slavery on a West India plantation."

"I couldn't let you drown before my eyes."

"Most men in your place would have let me go, and even would have helped me along."

"Perhaps I felt the need of company. 'Twould have been terrible to be alone here."

"There may be something in that. But at any rate, you saved me. I'm thinking that you and I are all that's left. I was a fool, Peter, ever to have mixed in your business. I can see it now. When I carried you away from New York I lost my s.h.i.+p. I kidnap you away again from Albany, and I lose my s.h.i.+p and all my crew. I would have lost my own life, too, if it had not been for you. It was never intended by the fates that I should have been successful in my attempts on you. The first time should have been enough. That was a warning. Well, I've paid the price of my folly. All fools do."

He tried to stand up, but fresh blood came from his shoulder and he quickly sat down again. It was obvious that he was very weak.

"I'll do the best I can for us both," said Robert, "but I don't know the nature of this land upon which we're cast. I suppose it's an island, of course. I can see trees inland, but that's all I can discover at present."

"I know a deal more," said the slaver. "That's why I had the boat steered for this point, hoping to make the little bay into which the opening through the reefs leads. It's an island, as you say, seven or eight miles long, half as broad and covered thickly with trees and brush. There's a hut about half a mile inland, and if you help me there we'll both find shelter. I'll show the way. As trying too steadily to do you evil brought me bad luck I'll now try to do you good. You can put it down to logic, and not to any sudden piety in me."

Yet Robert in his heart did not ascribe it wholly to logic. He was willing to believe in a kindly impulse or two in everybody, there was a little good hidden somewhere deep down even in Tandakora, though it might have to struggle uncommonly hard for expression. He promptly put his arm under the man's and helped him to his feet.

"Give me the direction," he said, "and I'll see that we reach the hut."

"Bear toward the high hill ahead and to the right. And between you and me, Peter, I'm glad it's inland. I've had enough of the sea for a while and I don't want to look at it. How is it behaving now?"

Robert, looking back, saw a great wave rus.h.i.+ng upon the beach as if it thought it could overtake them, and it gave him an actual thrill of delight to know the effort would be in vain.

"It's as wild, as desolate and as angry as ever," he said, "and we're well away from it for the present."

"Then go on. I fear I shall have to lean upon you rather hard. A bit of grape shot from that cursed sloop has bitten pretty deep into my shoulder. I've been doubly a fool, Peter, in kidnapping you a second time after the first warning, and in allowing myself to be tolled up under the broadside of that sloop. It's the last that hurts me most. I behaved like any youngster on his first cruise."

Robert said nothing, but did his best to support the wounded man, who was now bearing upon him very heavily. His own strength was largely fact.i.tious, coming from the hope that they would soon find shelter and a real place in which to rest, but such as it was it was sufficient for the time being.

He did not look back again. Like the slaver, he wanted to shut out the sea for the present. It was a raging, cruel element, and he felt better with it unseen. But he became conscious, instead, of the rain which was driving hard. He suddenly realized that he was cold, and he s.h.i.+vered so violently that the slaver noticed it.

"Never mind, Peter," he said. "We're going to a palace, or at least 'twill seem a palace by power of contrast. There you'll be snug and warm."

"And you can bind up your wound again and get back your strength."

"Aye, we can bind it up again, but it's not so sure about my getting back my strength. I tell you again, lad, that the grape bit deep. It hurts me all the time to think I was lured under those guns by a silly old fiddler and a couple of silly sailors dancing to his silly tune.

You're a good lad, Peter, I give you credit for it, and since, beside myself, only one on board the schooner was saved, I'm glad it was you and not a member of the crew."

"We don't know that others were not saved. We haven't had time yet to see."

"I know they weren't. It's only a miracle that we two came through the reefs. Miracles may happen, Peter, but they don't happen often. n.o.body else will appear on the island. Keep steering for the hill. I'll be glad when we get there, because, between you and me, Peter, it will be just about as far as I can go and I'll need a long, long rest."

He bore so heavily upon Robert now that their progress was very slow, and the lad himself began to grow weak. It was impossible for any one, no matter how hardy of body and soul, to endure long, after going through what he had suffered. He too staggered.

"I'm leaning hard on you, Peter," said the slaver. "I know it, but I can't help it. What a difference a whiff of grapeshot makes!"

Robert steadied himself, made a mighty effort, and they went on. The wind s.h.i.+fted now and the rain drove directly in his face. It was cold to him, but it seemed to whip a little increase of vigor and strength into his blood, and he was able to go somewhat faster. As he pulled along with his burden he looked curiously at the region through which he was traveling. The ground was rough, often with layers of coral, and he saw on all sides of him dense groves of bushes, among which he recognized the banana by the fruit. It gave him a thrill of relief. At all events here was food of a kind, and they would not starve to death. It was the first time he had thought of food. Hitherto he had been occupied wholly with the struggle for immediate life.

A belt of tall trees shut out the hill toward which he had been steering, and he was uncertain. But the man gave him guidance.

"More to the right, Peter," he said. "I won't let you go astray, and it's full lucky for us both that I know this island."

A half hour of painful struggle and Robert saw the dark shape of a small house in the lee of a hill.

"It's the hut, Peter," said the slaver, "and you've done well to bring us here. You're not only a good lad, but you're strong and brave, too.

You needn't knock at the door. No one will answer. Push it open and enter. It really belongs to me."

Robert obeyed while the man steadied himself sufficiently to stand alone. He thrust his hand against the door, which swung inward, revealing a dark interior. A musty odor entered his nostrils, but the hut, whatever its character, was dry. That was evident, and so it was welcome. He went in, helping the wounded man along with him, and standing there a moment or two everything became clear.

It was more than a hut. He was in a room of some size, containing articles of furniture, obviously brought across the sea, and clothing hanging from the wall on hooks. A couch was beside one wall, and two doors seemed to lead to larger chambers or to small closets. The captain staggered across the room and lay down on the couch.

"Well, how do you like it, Peter?" he asked. "'Twill serve in a storm, will it not?"

"It will serve grandly," replied Robert. "How does it come to be here?"

"I had it built. The islands all the way from the Bahamas to South America and the waters around them are the great hunting ground for people in my trade, and naturally we need places of refuge, secluded little harbors, so to speak, where we can commune with ourselves and refresh our minds and bodies. Even rovers must have periods of relaxation, and you'll find a lot of such places scattered about the islands, or, rather, you won't find 'em because they're too well hidden.

I had this built myself, but I never dreamed that I should come back to it in the way I have."

"It's a palace just now," said Robert, "yes, it's more than a palace, it's a home. I see clothing here on the wall, and, by your leave, I'll change you and then myself into some of those dry garments."

"You're lord of the manor, Peter, by right of strength. I'm in no condition to resist you, even had I the wish, which I haven't."

a.s.sisted by the man himself, he removed the captain's garments and put him in dry clothing, first looking at the wound in his shoulder, which his experience told him was very serious. The piece of grapeshot had gone entirely through, but the loss of blood had been large, and there was inflammation.

"I must bathe that with fresh water a little later and devise some kind of dressing," said Robert. "I've had much experience in the wilderness with wounds."