The Wings of the Morning - Page 8/21

Fierce emotions are necessarily transient, but for the hour they

exhaust the psychic capacity. The sailor had gone through such mental

stress before it was yet noon that he was benumbed, wholly incapable of

further sensation.

Seneca tells how the island of Theresæa arose in a

moment from the sea, thereby astounding ancient mariners, as well it

might. Had this manifestation been repeated within a cable's length

from the reef, Jenks was in mood to accept it as befitting the new

order of things.

Being in good condition, he soon recovered his physical powers. He was

outwardly little the worse for the encounter with the devil-fish. The

skin around his mouth was sore. His waist and legs were bruised. One

sweep of the axe had cut clean through the bulging leather of his left

boot without touching the flesh. In a word, he was practically

uninjured.

He had the doglike habit of shaking himself at the close of a fray. He

did so now when he stood up. Iris showed clearer signs of the ordeal.

Her face was drawn and haggard, the pupils of her eyes dilated. She was

gazing into depths, illimitable, unexplored. Compassion awoke at sight

of her.

"Come," said Jenks, gently. "Let us get back to the island."

He quietly resumed predominance, helping her over the rough pathway of

the reef, almost lifting her when the difficulties were great.

He did not ask her how it happened that she came so speedily to his

assistance. Enough that she had done it, daring all for his sake. She

was weak and trembling. With the acute vision of the soul she saw

again, and yet again, the deadly malice of the octopus, the divine

despair of the man.

Reaching the firm sand, she could walk alone. She limped. Instantly her

companion's blunted emotions quickened into life. He caught her arm and

said hoarsely--

"Are you hurt in any way?"

The question brought her back from dreamland. A waking nightmare was

happily shattered into dim fragments. She even strove to smile

unconcernedly.

"It is nothing," she murmured. "I stumbled on the rocks. There is no

sprain. Merely a blow, a bit of skin rubbed off, above my ankle."

"Let me carry you."

"The idea! Carry me! I will race you to the cave."

It was no idle jest. She wanted to run--to get away from that inky

blotch in the green water.

"You are sure it is a trifle?"

"Quite sure. My stocking chafes a little; that is all. See, I will show

you."

She stooped, and with the quick skill of woman, rolled down the

stocking on her right leg. Modestly daring, she stretched out her foot

and slightly lifted her dress. On the outer side of the tapering limb

was an ugly bruise, scratched deeply by the coral.

He exhibited due surgical interest. His manner, his words, became

professional.

"We will soon put that right," he said. "A strip off your muslin dress,

soaked in brandy, will----"

"Brandy!" she exclaimed.

"Yes; we have some, you know. Brandy is a great tip for bruised wounds.

It can be applied both ways, inside and out."

This was better. They were steadily drifting back to the commonplace.

Whilst she stitched together some muslin strips he knocked the head off

a bottle of brandy. They each drank a small quantity, and the generous

spirit brought color to their wan cheeks. The sailor showed Iris how to

fasten a bandage by twisting the muslin round the upper part of his

boot. For the first time she saw the cut made by the axe.

"Did--the thing--grip you there?" she nervously inquired.

"There, and elsewhere. All over at once, it felt like. The beast

attacked me with five arms."

She shuddered. "I don't know how you could fight it," she said. "How

strong, how brave you must be."

This amused him. "The veriest coward will try to save his own life," he

answered. "If you use such adjectives to me, what words can I find to

do justice to you, who dared to come close to such a vile-looking

creature and kill it. I must thank my stars that you carried the

revolver."

"Ah!" she said, "that reminds me. You do not practice what you preach.

I found your pistol lying on the stone in the cave. That is one reason

why I followed you."

It was quite true. He laid the weapon aside when delving at the rock,

and forgot to replace it in his belt.

"It was stupid of me," he admitted; "but I am not sorry."

"Why?"

"Because, as it is, I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing," she snapped. "It is very thoughtless of you to

run such risks. What will become of me if anything happens to you? My

point of view is purely selfish, you see."

"Quite so. Purely selfish." He smiled sadly. "Selfish people of your

type are somewhat rare, Miss Deane."

Not a conversation worth noting, perhaps, save in so far as it is

typical of the trite utterances of people striving to recover from some

tremendous ordeal. Epigrams delivered at the foot of the scaffold have

always been carefully prepared beforehand.

The bandage was ready; one end was well soaked in brandy. She moved

towards the cave, but he cried--

"Wait one minute. I want to get a couple of crowbars."

"What for?"

"I must go back there." He jerked his head in the direction of the

reef. She uttered a little sob of dismay.

"I will incur no danger this time," he explained. "I found rifles

there. We must have them; they may mean salvation."

When Iris was determined about anything, her chin dimpled. It puckered

delightfully now.

"I will come with you," she announced.

"Very well. I will wait for you. The tide will serve for another hour."

He knew he had decided rightly. She could not bear to be alone--yet.

Soon the bandage was adjusted and they returned to the reef. Scrambling

now with difficulty over the rough and dangerous track, Iris was

secretly amazed by the remembrance of the daring activity she displayed

during her earlier passage along the same precarious roadway.

Then she darted from rock to rock with the fearless certainty of a

chamois. Her only stumble was caused, she recollected, by an absurd

effort to avoid wetting her dress. She laughed nervously when they

reached the place. This time Jenks lifted her across the intervening

channel.

"Is this the spot where you fell?" he asked, tenderly.

"Yes; how did you guess it?"

"I read it in your eyes."

"Then please do not read my eyes, but look where you are going."

"Perhaps I was doing that too," he said.

They were standing on the landward side of the shallow water in which

he fought the octopus.

Already the dark fluid emitted by his assailant in its final

discomfiture was passing away, owing to the slight movement of the

tide.

Iris was vaguely conscious of a double meaning in his words. She did

not trouble to analyze them. All she knew was that the man's voice

conveyed a subtle acknowledgment of her feminine divinity. The

resultant thrill of happiness startled, even dismayed her. This

incipient flirtation must be put a stop to instantly.

"Now that you have brought me here with so much difficulty, what are

you going to do?" she said. "It will be madness for you to attempt to

ford that passage again. Where there is one of those horrible things

there are others, I suppose."

Jenks smiled. Somehow he knew that this strict adherence to business

was a cloak for her real thoughts. Already these two were able to

dispense with spoken word.

But he sedulously adopted her pretext.

"That is one reason why I brought the crowbars," he explained. "If you

will sit down for a little while I will have everything properly

fixed."

He delved with one of the bars until it lodged in a crevice of the

coral. Then a few powerful blows with the back of the axe wedged it

firmly enough to bear any ordinary strain. The rope-ends reeved through

the pulley on the tree were lying where they fell from the girl's hand

at the close of the struggle. He deftly knotted them to the rigid bar,

and a few rapid turns of a piece of wreckage passed between the two

lines strung them into a tautness that could not be attained by any

amount of pulling.

Iris watched the operation in silence. The sailor always looked at his

best when hard at work. The half-sullen, wholly self-contained

expression left his face, which lit up with enthusiasm and concentrated

intelligence. That which he essayed he did with all his might. Will

power and physical force worked harmoniously. She had never before seen

such a man. At such moments her admiration of him was unbounded.

He, toiling with steady persistence, felt not the inward spur which

sought relief in speech, but Iris was compelled to say something.

"I suppose," she commented with an air of much wisdom, "you are

contriving an overhead railway for the safe transit of yourself and the

goods?"

"Y--yes."

"Why are you so doubtful about it?"

"Because I personally intended to walk across. The ropes will serve to

convey the packages."

She rose imperiously. "I absolutely forbid you to enter the water

again. Such a suggestion on your part is quite shameful. You are taking

a grave risk for no very great gain that I can see, and if anything

happens to you I shall be left all alone in this awful place."

She could think of no better argument. Her only resource was a woman's

expedient--a plea for protection against threatening ills.

The sailor seemed to be puzzled how best to act.

"Miss Deane," he said, "there is no such serious danger as you imagine.

Last time the cuttle caught me napping. He will not do so again. Those

rifles I must have. If it will serve to reassure you, I will go along

the line myself."

He made this concession grudgingly. In very truth, if danger still

lurked in the neighboring sea, he would be far less able to avoid it

whilst clinging to a rope that sagged with his weight, and thus working

a slow progress across the channel, than if he were on his feet and

prepared to make a rush backwards or forwards.

Not until Iris watched him swinging along with vigorous overhead

clutches did this phase of the undertaking occur to her.

"Stop!" she screamed.

He let go and dropped into the water, turning towards her.

"What is the matter now?" he said.

"Go on; do!"

He stood meekly on the further side to listen to her rating.

"You knew all the time that it would be better to walk, yet to please

me you adopted an absurdly difficult method. Why did you do it?"

"You have answered your own question."

"Well, I am very, very angry with you."

"I'll tell you what," he said, "if you will forgive me I will try and

jump back. I once did nineteen feet three inches in--er--in a meadow,

but it makes such a difference when you look at a stretch of water the

same width."

"I wish you would not stand there talking nonsense. The tide will be

over the reef in half an hour," she cried.

Without another word he commenced operations. There was plenty of rope,

and the plan he adopted was simplicity itself. When each package was

securely fastened he attached it to a loop that passed over the line

stretched from the tree to the crowbar. To this loop he tied the

lightest rope he could find and threw the other end to Iris. By pulling

slightly she was able to land at her feet even the cumbrous

rifle-chest, for the traveling angle was so acute that the heavier the

article the more readily it sought the lower level.

They toiled in silence until Jenks could lay hands on nothing more of

value. Then, observing due care, he quickly passed the channel. For an

instant the girl gazed affrightedly at the sea until the sailor stood

at her side again.

"You see," he said, "you have scared every cuttle within miles." And he

thought that he would give many years of his life to be able to take

her in his arms and kiss away her anxiety.

But the tide had turned; in a few minutes the reef would be partly

submerged. To carry the case of rifles to the mainland was a manifestly

impossible feat, so Jenks now did that which, done earlier, would have

saved him some labor--he broke open the chest, and found that the

weapons were apparently in excellent order.

He snapped the locks and squinted down the barrels of half a dozen to

test them. These he laid on one side. Then he rapidly constructed a

small raft from loose timbers, binding them roughly with rope, and to

this argosy he fastened the box of tea, the barrels of flour, the

broken saloon-chair, and other small articles which might be of use. He

avoided any difficulty in launching the raft by building it close to

the water's edge. When all was ready the rising tide floated it for

him; he secured it to his longest rope, and gave it a vigorous push off

into the lagoon. Then he slung four rifles across his shoulders, asked

Iris to carry the remaining two in like manner, and began to manoeuvre

the raft landwards.

"Whilst you land the goods I will prepare dinner," announced the girl.

"Please be careful not to slip again on the rocks," he said.

"Indeed I will. My ankle gives me a reminder at each step."

"I was more concerned about the rifles. If you fell you might damage

them, and the incoming tide will so hopelessly rust those I leave

behind that they will be useless."

She laughed. This assumption at brutality no longer deceived her.

"I will preserve them at any cost, though with six in our possession

there is a margin for accidents. However, to reassure you, I will go

back quickly. If I fall a second time you will still be able to replace

any deficiencies in our armament."

Before he could protest she started off at a run, jumping lightly from

rock to rock, though the effort cost her a good deal of pain.

Disregarding his shouts, she persevered until she stood safely on the

sands. Then saucily waving a farewell, she set off towards the cave.

Had she seen the look of fierce despair that settled down upon Jenks's

face as he turned to his task of guiding the raft ashore she might have

wondered what it meant. In any case she would certainly have behaved

differently.

By the time the sailor had safely landed his cargo Iris had cooked

their midday meal. She achieved a fresh culinary triumph. The eggs were

fried!

"I am seriously thinking of trying to boil a ham," she stated gravely.

"Have you any idea how long it takes to cook one properly?"

"A quarter of an hour for each pound."

"Admirable! But we can measure neither hours nor pounds."

"I think we can do both. I will construct a balance of some kind. Then,

with a ham slung to one end, and a rifle and some cartridges to the

other, I will tell you the weight of the ham to an ounce. To ascertain

the time, I have already determined to fashion a sun-dial. I remember

the requisite divisions with reasonable accuracy, and a little

observation will enable us to correct any mistakes."

"You are really very clever, Mr. Jenks," said Iris, with childlike

candor. "Have you spent several years of your life in preparing for

residence on a desert island?"

"Something of the sort. I have led a queer kind of existence, full of

useless purposes. Fate has driven me into a corner where my odds and

ends of knowledge are actually valuable. Such accidents make men

millionaires."

"Useless purposes!" she repeated. "I can hardly credit that. One uses

such a phrase to describe fussy people, alive with foolish activity.

Your worst enemy would not place you in such a category."

"My worst enemy made the phrase effective at any rate, Miss Deane."

"You mean that he ruined your career?"

"Well--er--yes. I suppose that describes the position with fair

accuracy."

"Was he a very great scoundrel?"

"He was, and is."

Jenks spoke with quiet bitterness. The girl's words had evoked a sudden

flood of recollection. For the moment he did not notice how he had been

trapped into speaking of himself, nor did he see the quiet content on

Iris's face when she elicited the information that his chief foe was a

man. A certain tremulous hesitancy in her manner when she next spoke

might have warned him, but his hungry soul caught only the warm

sympathy of her words, which fell like rain on parched soil.

"You are tired," she said. "Won't you smoke for a little while, and

talk to me?"

He produced his pipe and tobacco, but he used his right hand awkwardly.

It was evident to her alert eyes that the torn quick on his injured

finger was hurting him a great deal. The exciting events of the morning

had caused him temporarily to forget his wound, and the rapid coursing

of the blood through the veins was now causing him agonized throbs.

With a cry of distress she sprang to her feet and insisted upon washing

the wound. Then she tenderly dressed it with a strip of linen well

soaked in brandy, thinking the while, with a sudden rush of color to

her face, that although he could suggest this remedy for her slight

hurt, he gave no thought to his own serious injury. Finally she pounced

upon his pipe and tobacco-box.

"Don't be alarmed," she laughed. "I have often filled my father's pipe

for him. First, you put the tobacco in loosely, taking care not to use

any that is too finely powdered. Then you pack the remainder quite

tightly. But I was nearly forgetting. I haven't blown, through the pipe

to see if it is clean."

She suited the action to the word, using much needless breath in the

operation.

"That is a first-rate pipe," she declared. "My father always said that

a straight stem, with the bowl at a right angle, was the correct shape.

You evidently agree with him."

"Absolutely."

"You will like my father when you meet him. He is the very best man

alive, I am sure."

"You two are great friends, then?"

"Great friends! He is the only friend I possess in the world."

"What! Is that quite accurate?"

"Oh, quite. Of course, Mr. Jenks, I can never forget how much I owe to

you. I like you immensely, too, although you are so--so gruff to me at

times. But--but--you see, my father and I have always been together. I

have neither brother nor sister, not even a cousin. My dear mother died

from some horrid fever when I was quite a little girl. My father is

everything to me."

"Dear child!" he murmured, apparently uttering his thoughts aloud

rather than addressing her directly. "So you find me gruff, eh?"

"A regular bear, when you lecture me. But that is only occasionally.

You can be very nice when you like, when you forget your past troubles.

And pray, why do you call me a child?

"Have I done so?"

"Not a moment ago. How old are you, Mr. Jenks? I am twenty--twenty last

December."

"And I," he said, "will be twenty-eight in August."

"Good gracious!" she gasped. "I am very sorry, but I really thought you

were forty at least."

"I look it, no doubt. Let me be equally candid and admit that you, too,

show your age markedly."

She smiled nervously. "What a lot of trouble you must have had

to--to--to give you those little wrinkles in the corners of your mouth

and eyes," she said.

"Wrinkles! How terrible!"

"I don't know. I think they rather suit you; besides, it was stupid of

me to imagine you were so old. I suppose exposure to the sun creates

wrinkles, and you must have lived much in the open air."

"Early rising and late going to bed are bad for the complexion," he

declared, solemnly.

"I often wonder how army officers manage to exist," she said. "They

never seem to get enough sleep, in the East, at any rate. I have seen

them dancing for hours after midnight, and heard of them pig-sticking

or schooling hunters at five o'clock next morning."

"So you assume I have been in the army?"

"I am quite sure of it."

"May I ask why?"

"Your manner, your voice, your quiet air of authority, the very way you

walk, all betray you."

"Then," he said sadly, "I will not attempt to deny the fact. I held a

commission in the Indian Staff Corps for nine years. It was a hobby of

mine, Miss Deane, to make myself acquainted with the best means of

victualing my men and keeping them in good health under all sorts of

fanciful conditions and in every kind of climate, especially under

circumstances when ordinary stores were not available. With that object

in view I read up every possible country in which my regiment might be

engaged, learnt the local names of common articles of food, and

ascertained particularly what provision nature made to sustain life.

The study interested me. Once, during the Soudan campaign, it was

really useful, and procured me promotion."

"Tell me about it."

"During some operations in the desert it was necessary for my troop to

follow up a small party of rebels mounted on camels, which, as you

probably know, can go without water much longer than horses. We were

almost within striking distance, when our horses completely gave out,

but I luckily noticed indications which showed that there was water

beneath a portion of the plain much below the general level. Half an

hour's spade work proved that I was right. We took up the pursuit

again, and ran the quarry to earth, and I got my captaincy."

"Was there no fight?"

He paused an appreciable time before replying. Then he evidently made

up his mind to perform some disagreeable task. The watching girl could

see the change in his face, the sharp transition from eager interest to

angry resentment.

"Yes," he went on at last, "there was a fight. It was a rather stiff

affair, because a troop of British cavalry which should have supported

me had turned back, owing to the want of water already mentioned. But

that did not save the officer in charge of the 24th Lancers from being

severely reprimanded."

"The 24th Lancers!" cried Iris. "Lord Ventnor's regiment!"

"Lord Ventnor was the officer in question."

Her face crimonsed. "Then you know him?" she said.

"I do."

"Is he your enemy?"

"Yes."

"And that is why you were so agitated that last day on the

Sirdar, when poor Lady Tozer asked me if I were engaged to him?"

"Yes."

"How could it affect you? You did not even know my name then?"

Poor Iris! She did not stop to ask herself why she framed her question

in such manner, but the sailor was now too profoundly moved to heed the

slip. She could not tell how he was fighting with himself, fiercely

beating down the inner barriers of self-love, sternly determined, once

and for all, to reveal himself in such light to this beautiful and

bewitching woman that in future she would learn to regard him only as

an outcast whose company she must perforce tolerate until relief came.

"It affected me because the sudden mention of his name recalled my own

disgrace. I quitted the army six months ago, Miss Deane, under very

painful circumstances. A general court-martial found me guilty of

conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. I was not even given a

chance to resign. I was cashiered."

He pretended to speak with cool truculence. He thought to compel her

into shrinking contempt. Yet his face blanched somewhat, and though he

steadily kept the pipe between his teeth, and smoked with studied

unconcern, his lips twitched a little.

And he dared not look at her, for the girl's wondering eyes were fixed

upon him, and the blush had disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I remember something of this," she said slowly, never once averting

her gaze. "There was some gossip concerning it when I first came to

Hong Kong. You are Captain Robert Anstruther?"

"I am."

"And you publicly thrashed Lord Ventnor as the result of a quarrel

about a woman?"

"Your recollection is quite accurate."

"Who was to blame?"

"The lady said that I was."

"Was it true?"

Robert Anstruther, late captain of Bengal Cavalry, rose to his feet. He

preferred to take his punishment standing.

"The court-martial agreed with her, Miss Deane, and I am a prejudiced

witness," he replied.

"Who was the--lady?"

"The wife of my colonel, Mrs. Costobell."

"Oh!"

Long afterwards he remembered the agony of that moment, and winced even

at the remembrance. But he had decided upon a fixed policy, and he was

not a man to flinch from consequences. Miss Deane must be taught to

despise him, else, God help them both, she might learn to love him as

he now loved her. So, blundering towards his goal as men always blunder

where a woman's heart is concerned, he blindly persisted in allowing

her to make such false deductions as she chose from his words.

Iris was the first to regain some measure of self-control.

"I am glad you have been so candid, Captain Anstruther," she commenced,

but he broke in abruptly--

"Jenks, if you please, Miss Deane. Robert Jenks."

There was a curious light in her eyes, but he did not see it, and her

voice was marvelously subdued as she continued--

"Certainly, Mr. Jenks. Let me be equally explicit before we quit the

subject. I have met Mrs. Costobell. I do not like her. I consider her a

deceitful woman. Your court-martial might have found a different

verdict had its members been of her sex. As for Lord Ventnor, he is

nothing to me. It is true he asked my father to be permitted to pay his

addresses to me, but my dear old dad left the matter wholly to my

decision, and I certainly never gave Lord Ventnor any encouragement. I

believe now that Mrs. Costobell lied, and that Lord Ventnor lied, when

they attributed any dishonorable action to you, and I am glad that you

beat him in the Club. I am quite sure he deserved it."

Not one word did this strange man vouchsafe in reply. He started

violently, seized the axe lying at his feet, and went straight among

the trees, keeping his face turned from Iris so that she might not see

the tears in his eyes.

As for the girl, she began to scour her cooking utensils with much

energy, and soon commenced a song. Considering that she was compelled

to constantly endure the company of a degraded officer, who had been

expelled from the service with ignominy, she was absurdly contented.

Indeed, with the happy inconsequence of youth, she quickly threw all

care to the winds, and devoted her thoughts to planning a surprise for

the next day by preparing some tea, provided she could surreptitiously

open the chest.