The Pagan Madonna Part 26

"I don't exactly know. It's--it's too peaceful."

"To last? I see. But it isn't as though I were forcing you to go through with the real voyage. Only a few days more, and you'll have seen the last of me."

"I hope so."

He chuckled.

"What I meant was," she corrected, "that nothing might happen, n.o.body get hurt. Human beings can plan only so far."

"That's true enough. Every programme is subject to immediate change. But, Lord, what a lot of programmes go through per schedule! Still, you are right. It all depends upon chance. We say a thing is cut and dried, but we can't prove it. But so far as I can see into the future, nothing is going to happen, n.o.body is going to walk the plank. Piracy on a basis of 2.75 per cent.--the kick gone out of it! But if you can bring about the reconciliation of the Cleighs the old boy will not be so keen for chasing me all over the map when this job is done."

"Will you tell me what those beads are?"

"To be sure I will--all in due time. What does Cleigh call them?"

"Love beads!" scornfully.

"On my solemn word, that's exactly what they are."

"Very well. But remember, you promise to tell me when the time comes."

"That and other surprising things."

"I'll be going."

"Come up as often as you like."

Cunningham accompanied her to the bridge ladder and remained until she was speeding along the deck; then he returned to his chart. But the chart was no longer able to hold his attention. So he levelled his gaze upon the swinging horizon and kept it there for a time. Odd fancy, picturing the girl on the bridge in a hurricane, her hair streaming out behind her, her fine body leaning on the wind. A shadow in the doorway broke in upon this musing. Cleigh.

"Come in and sit down," invited Cunningham.

But Cleigh ignored the invitation and stepped over to the steersman.

"Has Miss Norman been in here?"

"Yes, sir."

"How long was she here?"

"I don't know, sir; perhaps half an hour."

Cleigh stalked to the door, but there he turned, and for the first time since Cunningham had taken the yacht Cleigh looked directly, with grim intentness, into his enemy's eyes.

"Battle, murder, and sudden death!" Cunningham laughed. "You don't have to tell me, Cleigh! I can see it in your eyes. If Miss Norman wants to come here and ask questions, I'm the last man to prevent her."

Cleigh thumped down the ladder. Cunningham was right--there was murder in his heart. He hurried into the main salon, and there he found Jane and Dennison conversing.

"Miss Norman, despite my warning you went up to the chart house."

"I had some questions to ask."

"I forbid you emphatically. I am responsible for you."

"I am no longer your prisoner, Mr. Cleigh; I am Mr. Cunningham's."

"You went up there alone?" demanded Dennison.

"Why not? I'm not afraid. He will not break his word to me."

"d.a.m.n him!" roared Dennison.

"Where are you going?" she cried, seizing him by the sleeve.

"To have it out with him! I can't stand this any longer!"

"And what will become of me--if anything happens to you, or anything happens to him? What about the crew if he isn't on hand to hold them?"

The muscular tenseness of the arm she held relaxed. But the look he gave his father was on a par with that which Cleigh had so recently spent upon Cunningham. Cleigh could not support it, and turned his head aside.

"All right. But mind you keep in sight! If you will insist upon talking with the scoundrel, at least permit me to be within call. What do you want to talk to him for, anyhow?"

"Neither of you will stoop to ask him questions, so I had to. And I have learned one thing. He is going pearl hunting."

"What? Off the Catwick? There's no pearl oyster in that region," Dennison declared. "Either he is lying or the Catwick is a blind. The only chance he'd have would be somewhere in the Sulu Archipelago; and this time of year the pearl fleets will be as thick as flies in mola.s.ses. Of course if he is aware of some deserted atoll, why, there might be something in it."

"Have you ever hunted pearls?"

"In a second-hand sort of way. But if pearls are his game, why commit piracy when he could have chartered a tramp to carry his crew? There's more than one old bucket hereabouts ready to his hand for coal and stores. He'll need a shoe spoon to get inside or by the Sulu fleets, since the oyster has been pretty well neglected these five years, and every official pearler will be hiking down there. But it requires a certain amount of capital and a stack of officially stamped paper, and I don't fancy Cunningham has either."

Cleigh smiled dryly, but offered no comment. He knew all about Cunningham's capital.

"Did he say anything about being picked up by another boat?" asked Dennison.

"No," answered Jane. "But I don't believe it will be hard for me to make him tell me that. I believe that he will keep his word, too."

"Jane, he has broken the law of the sea. I don't know what the penalty is these days, but it used to be hanging to the yard-arm. He won't be particular about his word if by breaking it he can save his skin. He's been blarneying you. You've let his plausible tongue and handsome face befog you."

"That is not true!" she flared. Afterward she wondered what caused the flash of perversity. "And I resent your inference!" she added with uplifted chin.

Dennison whirled her about savagely, stared into her eyes, then walked to the companion, up which he disappeared. This rudeness astonished her profoundly. She appealed silently to the father.

"We are riding a volcano," said Cleigh. "I'm not sure but he's setting some trap for you. He may need you as a witness for the defense. Of course I can't control your actions, but it would relieve me immensely if you'd give him a wide berth."

"He was not the one who brought me aboard."

"No. And the more I look at it, the more I am convinced that you came on board of your own volition. You had two or three good opportunities to call for a.s.sistance."

"You believe that?"