The muffled clang of a hammer broke the silence which had fallen on the
watchers from the ship. Walker had slipped back to his beloved
engines. Had he not vowed that the massive pistons should again thrust
forth their willing arms on or about New Year's day? He had forgotten
the cannibals and their threats ere he was at the foot of the
engine-room ladder. Courtenay and Tollemache joined him; Christobal
went to the saloon to visit his patients; Elsie was left with Mr.
Boyle, who forthwith fell into a doze, being worn out by the fresh air
and the excitement.
Joey, having followed Courtenay to the one doorway in the ship which he
could not enter, trotted back to find Elsie. She greeted him with
enthusiasm.
"Hail, friend," she said. "You, at least, are not jealous if I speak
to your master, wherein you show your exceeding wisdom. Now, since you
and I are persons of leisure, tell me, Joey, what we shall do to make
ourselves useful?"
The dog was accustomed to being spoken to. He awaited developments.
"It seems to me, Joey," she continued, "that Gulielmo Frascuelo is the
one person on board who claims our attention. There is a mystery to be
solved. Bound up in it are my poor Isobel, that beast, Ventana, and a
drunken coal-trimmer. An odd assortment to rub shoulders, don't you
think?"
Joey still reserved his opinion. When the girl went to the forecastle
by climbing down the sailors' ladder to the lower deck, he thought she
was making a mistake; but she held her arms for his spring, and all was
well. She had not previously visited the quarters set apart for the
crew. Puzzled by the large number of small cabins with names of
subordinate officers painted on them, she paused and cried loudly: "Are you there, Frascuelo? May I speak to you?"
An exclamation of surprise, a somewhat forcible exclamation, too,
answered her from an inner berth. Frascuelo had heard from the Chilean
who brought his meals that there was an Englishwoman on board, but he
did not know that she spoke Spanish fluently. He answered her question
politely enough in the next breath, and the dog indicated the right
door by hopping inside.
Frascuelo was reclining on a lower bunk. His injured leg was well on
the way towards recovery, but the wound and its resultant confinement
had chastened him; he had lost the brigandish swagger which was his
most cherished asset.
After acknowledging inquiries as to his progress, he showed such
eagerness for news that Elsie told him briefly what had caused the
latest uproar. She cheered him, too, with the announcement made by the
engineer, and then led him to the topic on which she sought information.
"In some ways, I regard you as most unfortunate," she said. "I have
been told you are here by accident--that you never meant to take the
voyage at all. Is that true?"