The Chauffeur and the Chaperon - BestLightNovel.com
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"I'm not engaged," I admitted; "but I was going to propose to her to-day, if this hadn't happened. For goodness' sake, hurry."
"I wonder you have the cheek to tell me that, and then ask me to hurry.
Why should I help you to get her?"
"Do you still want her?" I asked.
"More than I ever wanted or shall want anything else."
"Then it's all up with me!" I groaned.
"Do you mean----"
"I only mean that you can make me lose her. If Alec MacNairne boards us like a pirate, and yells for his Fay, I shall be discovered as a perjured villain, just in the very hour when it's necessary for me to appear most virtuous. Heavens! If this could only have happened _afterwards_. Once I was sure of her, I'd have confessed everything, for I could have made her understand how it was all done for her sake--for love of her."
"And her stepsister," said Alb, bitterly, as he did to the wheel what perhaps he would have liked to do to my throat.
"That was a mere boyish fancy," said I. "I love Nell Van Buren with a man's love. You can stop this boat if you choose to be a revengeful Albatross----"
"I shall not stop the boat," he said, in a grave, hard voice, which made my tone sound light, almost humorous. "I shall not rob you of your chance with her. If it depends upon me, you shall have it."
I really did admire Alb, as he stood there, not looking at me, but straight ahead, as if into a blank future.
"Do you care for her a lot?" I asked, half remorsefully.
"Only more than for the rest of the world put together. But I tell you honestly, I haven't had much hope lately. I suppose I was a conceited a.s.s to make up my mind that nothing should stop me from winning the girl, in spite of herself. Well, she's punished me--shown me my folly.
But for all that, I regret nothing. If it were to do over again, I'd come on board this boat and work for her as I have worked, even knowing as I know now that she'd end by disliking me as much as she did in the beginning. You're an attractive fellow to women, Starr."
"Phyllis preferred Robert," I said thoughtfully.
"Yes. I confess I hoped you and Miss Rivers would make a match: then I'd have had nothing to fear from you in the other direction. But it wasn't to be; and she and Bob van Buren will be perfectly happy. You needn't fear I'll turn against you. Depend on me to do my best with the boat--though of course you won't expect help in any other way."
"Of course not," I said.
"Nor need it, I suppose," he added, harshly.
"Perhaps we may be mistaken about the boat being Alec's," I said.
"We both know we're not," said he. "Still--there's my gla.s.s. Have a squint through it."
I took up the binocular which the skipper always keeps handy, and had the squint, as he recommended. It was not an encouraging squint, for, though our follower had not been gaining for the last few minutes, all I could see of her made me more confident than before that she was "Wilhelmina." Whether Alec MacNairne was actually in chase of us, or whether it merely happened that he had to-day made up his mind to try Zeeland, in his quest, remained to be seen; but be that as it might, we were in the greatest danger of being overtaken.
In my agitation and fear of losing all, I could not concentrate my mind upon the thinking out of any stratagem to outwit Alec if he came upon us, and I dared not interrupt Alb's task by imploring him to rack his brains. The thing for him to do, I told myself, was to keep ahead of "Wilhelmina" at any price, especially while we were in open water. Once we could gain the region of ca.n.a.ls and narrow cross channels, we might slip round a water-corner and disappear. Anything, anything, then, to keep ahead!
"Run down and tell Hendrik to see that there's plenty of water," said Alb. "It won't do for the motor to get hot. Say to him that we're going to have a race."
"I can't make him understand," I wailed.
"I forgot. Well, take the wheel a minute, then----"
"I daren't. If I do, something's sure to go wrong; or I shall snap it short off on its stem."
"You are a helpless chap, I must say."
"So would you be, if I told you to finish one of my pictures, perhaps."
"That's true. Well, say this."
And he uttered useless-sounding words in Dutch, which I repeated after him until I knew them by heart. Then I went below and gabbled them to Hendrik, not more than half wrong, for he seemed to understand. But while the pink youth abandoned the operation of rubbing bra.s.s with cotton waste in favor of bailing up water, I stood gazing at the motor, praying it to do its best.
It was hot in the motor's den; so hot that it was no wonder the deck, which formed the roof, often felt warm underfoot. Chump, chump, went the engine, sounding stolid and Dutch and obstinate, as if nothing on earth or water could induce it to go faster than it chose. It even seemed to me as I gazed that it was slowing down, out of spite. I longed to feel its pulses with a stop-watch in the other hand, and make sure. Could it be that, after all, Alb had changed his mind, and meant to betray me?
No, it must be a trick of my amateurish fancy.
I a.s.sured myself of this two or three times over; but when Hendrik came back with a big pail of water, I saw by his face that I had not been deceived. Something was wrong.
There was no use in trying to question him, since I have no Dutch, and he has no English, except "Thank you," and "Good day." He flew at the motor, his cheeks pinker than ever, and I flew up on deck to find Alb in the act of giving over the wheel to Nell.
He pushed past me with a quick, "Don't stop me. I've got to see what's wrong." And I joined Nell, who looked very proud of herself as skipper.
Every one on deck was alert now, knowing that something had happened, for the first time in all our peaceful watery weeks. They were not yet aware of the pirate in pursuit, or that this day was the one of all others when the motor ought not to fail us: but they knew that, after putting on a fine spurt of speed for some reason or other, the engine had turned suddenly sulky, and was threatening to stop.
"Have I the evil eye?" I asked myself. "Did I 'overlook' the beastly thing when I went below and stared at it?"
"What's the matter?" I inquired of Nell, feeling a certain relief in talking to her, she looked so beautiful and so dependable.
"Don't speak to the man at the wheel," she said, smiling, but keeping her eyes straight ahead.
"Jonkheer Brederode says it's nothing serious; we aren't to worry,"
remarked the L.C.P. from her deck-chair. "I think it's rather fun to have a nice little accident. It breaks the monotony. And it's really exciting, being out at sea."
"It _is_ rather exciting," said I, signaling danger, with a glance that swept the water as far back as the now plainly visible pursuer.
She may or may not have caught my meaning; but Robert van Buren's eyes chanced at that instant to fall upon the distant craft.
"Ah!" he observed, in a tone of careless interest, for which I could have boxed his ears, "there is another motor-boat, I believe. It is coming as straight as if it were following us."
I saw the L.C.P. give a start. She looked at me, and our eyes would have met had it not been for the blue gla.s.ses. She understood, and knew just _how_ exciting her "nice little accident" might turn out to be.
At this moment the motor gave a groan and stopped. As its heart ceased to beat, I was astounded by the apparition of a totally new Alb.
Two minutes ago, at most, he had disappeared in the garb of a self-respecting gentleman with a yachting turn of mind. He reappeared in a suit of Hendrik's blue overalls, and, apparently, nothing else, his feet being bare. In his hand were a hammer and a chisel.
"Motor's all right. It must be the propeller that's wrong. I'm going down to see," he explained, no trace of excitement on his face, no hint of flurry in his voice. Alb is a good plucked one, and for presence of mind and _savoir faire_ I've never met his equal.
As "Mascotte" had slowed down, and then stopped, "Waterspin" came lolloping alongside. Toon, looking scarcely more fl.u.s.tered than his superior, kept the barge from bunting into her consort, fending her off with a pole. Alb, with a rope round his waist to keep him steady at his work under the water, slid over the side of the boat, and groped about with his free hand under the water-line.
"There's something round the screw shaft," he called up to Robert and me. "Queer thing! It feels like a coil of wire. We must have picked it up in the ca.n.a.l by Dordrecht, and ever since it's been slowly winding itself round the shaft, until now it's so tight that the propeller can't work."
"Then all hope's over," I said, with a meaning which he alone--or perhaps the L.C.P.--could understand. "We're caught in a trap."