The Pagan Madonna - Page 109/141

What had she said?--reknead his soul so that it would fit his face? Too

late!

One staff to lean on, one only--he never broke his word. Why had he laid

down for himself this law? What had inspired him to hold always to that?

Was there a bit of gold somewhere in his grotesque make-up? A straw on the

water, and he clutched it! Why? Cunningham laughed again, and the

steersman turned his head slightly.

"Williams, do you believe in God?" asked Cunningham.

"Well, sir, when I'm holding down the wheel--perhaps. The screw is always

edging a ship off, and the lighter the ballast the wider the yaw. So you

have to keep hitching her over a point to starboard. You trust to me to

keep that point, and I trust to God that the north stays where it is."

"And yet legally you're a pirate."

"Oh, that? Well, a fellow ain't much of a pirate that plays the game we

play. And yet----"

"Ah! And yet?"

"Well, sir, some of the boys are getting restless. And I'll be mighty glad

when we raise that old Dutch bucket of yours. They ain't bad, understand;

just young and heady and wanting a little fun. They growl a lot because

they can't sleep on deck. They growl because there's nothing to drink. Of

course it might hurt Cleigh's feelings, but I'd like to see all his grog

go by the board. You see, sir, it ain't as if we'd just dropped down from

Shanghai. It's been tarnation dull ever since we left San Francisco."

"Once on the other boat, they can make a night of it if they want to. But

I've given my word on the Wanderer."

"Yes, sir."

"And it's final."

Cunningham returned to his chart. All these cogitations because a woman

had entered his life uninvited! Ten days ago he had not been aware of her

existence; and from now on she would be always recurring in his thoughts.

She was not conscious of it, but she was as a wild thing that had been

born in captivity, and she was tasting the freedom of space again without

knowing what the matter was. But it is the law that all wild things born

in captivity lose everything but the echo; a little freedom, a flash of

what might have been, and they are ready to return to the cage. So it

would be with her.

Supposing--no, he would let her return to her cage. He wondered--had he

made his word a law simply to meet and conquer a situation such as this?

Or was his hesitance due to the fear of her hate? That would be immediate

and unabating. She was not the sort that would bend--she would break. No,

he wasn't monster enough to play that sort of game. She should take back

her little adventure to her cage, and in her old age it would become a

pleasant souvenir.