CHAPTER XI
AT THE MERCY OF THE WAVES
"Don't you think it would be perfectly lovely to have a mother as rich and beautiful as Mrs. Curtis?" asked Madge, as she tied a black velvet ribbon about her auburn curls and turned her head to see the effect. She and Phil were dressing for Tom Curtis's sailing party, to which he had invited them the day before and which was to start within the next hour.
"Almost any mother is pretty nice, even if she isn't rich or beautiful," answered Phil loyally. She was wearing a yachting suit of navy blue while Madge was dressed in white serge. Eleanor, Lillian and Miss Jones, clad in white linen gowns, were ready and waiting on the houseboat deck for the arrival of the sailing party. True to his word, Tom Curtis had brought his mother to call on the four girls the afternoon of the day before.
"I know," answered Madge slowly. "But sometimes, when I was a very little girl, I liked to think that perhaps I was a princess in disguise, and that Uncle and Aunt had never told me of it. I used to look out of the window and wonder if some day a carriage would drive up to hear me away to my royal home. That doesn't sound very practical, does it? But, when one has no memory of father or mother, one can't help dreaming things. Don't you think Mrs. Curtis is simply beautiful?" Madge abruptly changed the subject. "Her hair is so soft and white, and she has such a young face, but she looks as though she were tired of everything. Persons who have that wonderful, world-weary look are so interesting," finished Madge, with a sigh. "I am afraid I shall never have that expression, because I never find time to get tired of things."
"Come on, Madge," laughed Phil. "You can mourn some other day over not having an interesting expression."
"Girls," called Lillian, "the Curtis's boat is coming."
"In a minute," answered Madge, giving a final pat to her curls.
"Do hurry along, children. The sailboat is nearly here." This time it was Miss Jenny Ann's voice. "They signaled us several minutes ago. They have several other persons on board."
Mrs. Curtis and Tom signaled as they approached the "Merry Maid." Their guests were the artist, whom the girls had met the day before, Jack Bolling, and one or two strangers from the big summer hotel. Mike Muldoon, the owner of the boats, had another sailor on board to help him. Tom soon transferred the girls and their chaperon from their craft to his. The party intended to sail down the coast to a point of land known as Love Point and to eat their luncheon somewhere along the shore.
Mrs. Curtis sat across from Madge during their sailing trip, but every now and then she would look over to laugh at one of the young girl's amusing sallies. It was evident that the little captain of the "Merry Maid" had found favor in her eyes. Mrs. Curtis had planned a dainty luncheon, to which the steward at the hotel had given special attention, even to the sending of a man to serve it. There were delicious sandwiches of various kinds, chicken and Waldorf salads, olives, salted nuts, individual ices sent down from Baltimore and bonbons. It was quite the most elaborate luncheon the girls had ever eaten and they were rather impressed with both it and the service.
After luncheon the party sat for a long time on the clean, white sand, laughing and talking gayly. It was a perfect day and everyone was in the best possible spirits. Later on they divided into little groups. Lillian and Phil wandered off with Jack Bolling. Eleanor found a congenial companion in one of the young women guests from the hotel, while Tom, Miss Jones and Mrs. Curtis sat under a tree with the artist, watching him sketch. Madge, alone, flitted from one group to another, a little, restless spirit.
"Why don't you take Miss Morton for a sail, Tom?" suggested his mother. "You will have time to go a short distance out. We shall not start for the hotel until four o'clock."
"A good suggestion. Thank you, Mother," cried Tom. "Come on, Miss Morton."
Madge and Tom went gayly down to the boat. Tom's big setter dog, Brownie, dashed after them, pleading so hard to be taken aboard that Tom at last consented to have him, though he gravely assured the animal that three was a crowd, to which statement Brownie merely gave a joyful yelp and darted on board without further ceremony.
[Illustration: Madge and Tom went gayly down to the boat.]
It was a glorious day with a stiff breeze blowing. The water was fairly choppy, but the boat sped along, occasionally dashing the spray into the two young faces. Madge wore a white cloth cap, with a visor, such as ship's officers wear, and looked as nautical as she felt. Both Tom and Madge were possessed with an unusual fondness for the water, and their common love of the sea was a strong bond between them.
"Have you ever heard of any one who could have locked you up in the old hut that night?" Tom asked as they sailed along.
Madge shook her head. "No; I have not the faintest idea. To tell you the honest truth, I had almost forgotten that unpleasant experience. We have been having such a beautiful time since that we haven't had time to think of disagreeable things."
"Do you think it is safe for five women to be aboard that houseboat by themselves?" asked Tom anxiously. "If your boat were farther out on the water you would be safer."
Madge laughed merrily. "Look here, Mr. Curtis, I don't think it is fair for you to question our safety when there are five of us, Wouldn't Phil be angry if she heard you say that! It makes her furious to hear a man or boy even intimate that girls can't take care of themselves. Why, we can swim and run and jump, and we could put up a really brave fight if it were necessary. Besides, Nell and I know how to shoot. Uncle taught us when we were very little girls. I have been duck shooting with him along this very bay. Look at that rowboat back there. I have been watching it for some time. It has been trying to follow us."
Tom turned about. The boat was only a skiff, and, though it was nearly in their course, there was no chance of its coming any closer, as their boat was sailing before the wind.
"I believe it is the same skiff I saw this morning," commented Tom. "I suppose it is some fellow who has been fishing out here. Just think of the fish in this wonderful bay—perch and pike and bass and a hundred other kinds! You must help me catch some of them some day."
"All right, I will," promised Madge merrily. As they went farther out into the bay they grew strangely silent. The spell of the sea was upon them and they were content to sail along, exchanging but little conversation. Chesapeake Bay was apparently in one of its most amiable moods and, lured on by its apparent good nature, Tom grew a trifle more reckless than was his wont and did not turn about to begin the homeward sail as soon as he had originally intended.
It was Madge who broke the spell. "I think we had better start back. Perhaps I merely imagine it, but it seems to me that the sun isn't shining as brightly as it shone a little while ago. I know the bay so well. It is so wonderful, but so treacherous. I was once out on it in a sailboat during a sudden squall and I am not likely to forget it." Madge gave a slight shudder at the recollection.
"All right," agreed Tom, "I'll turn about, but there isn't the slightest danger of a squall to-day." He brought his little craft about and headed toward the beach.
In spite of his assurance that there would he no squall, a black, threatening cloud had appeared in the sky, and now the wind shifted, blowing strongly toward land. Tom, who was nothing if not a sailor, managed the boat so skilfully that Madge's apprehensions were soon quieted and she gave herself up to the complete enjoyment of rushing along in the freshened breeze.
They were within a mile of their landing place when, off to their right and a little ahead of them, Madge spied the rowboat they had seen at the beginning of their sail.
The boat was now tossing idly on the waves, and its sole occupant, a young man, was trying vainly to guide it with a single oar.
"There is that boat again," called Madge to Tom, who was busy with his sails. "I believe the young man in it is in trouble and is signaling to us for help."
As Tom drew nearer to the rowboat the other man in it called out: "Say, can't you take me aboard? I've lost an oar, and it's a pretty tough job trying to get ashore with one oar in a sea like this."
Tom glanced quickly at Madge. He was quite ready to help the young man, but wished to be sure that his young woman guest had no objection to the stranger coming aboard their boat.
It took five minutes to bring the sailboat close enough to pick up the man. Tom threw him a rope and the stranger climbed aboard, making fast his rowboat to the stern of the sailing vessel. He was a peculiar, wild-looking fellow, with dark, shifting eyes and thick, curly hair that partly covered his ears. As be stepped into the sailboat his lips parted in a smile that showed his teeth, which Madge noted were long, very white and pointed at the ends. He was deeply tanned, yet, in spite of his rough appearance, seemed to be a gentleman.
"You are very kind," he said in a low, purring voice which caused Madge to eye him sharply. "I would not have troubled you, but there is a heavy squall coming up. I shall be greatly obliged to you if you will put me ashore."
"All right," assented Tom. "We are in a hurry to get to shore ourselves, as my mother will be anxious if the storm catches us."
Madge had continued to gaze at the new-comer. "Where have I seen him before? He is like a wolf. His teeth look almost like fangs, and I don't like his strange, shifting eyes," she mentally criticised.
Aloud she said to Tom: "Miss Jenny Ann will be worried. She has been very nervous about us since we were locked in that old cabin in the woods overnight."
The stranger regarded Madge quizzically. She could have sworn that a mocking light lay in his dark eyes. "Did you say you were locked in an old cabin in the woods overnight? How unfortunate."
"It will be more unfortunate for the fellow who locked the girls in, provided we find him," threatened Tom shortly. The stranger's suave tones aroused in him a peculiar feeling of antagonism.
The young man regarded Tom through half-shut eyes. "I must ask you to land me on the beach above here," he drawled.
"Sorry," answered Tom firmly. "I don't know any other pier along here except ours. I told you I was in a hurry to go ashore. I don't like to be disobliging, but you will have to go to our landing with us."
The black clouds were now chasing one another across the sky, and the wind made a curious whistling noise. Nevertheless the boat was sailing gloriously, and in spite of the oncoming squall Tom and Madge were enjoying themselves immensely, though neither of them was much pleased with their fellow traveler.
The stranger turned to Madge. "You must tell your friend that he'll have to land me somewhere else than in that picnic party," he muttered hoarsely. "I tell you I have a reason. I do not want to meet any society folks."
"I am sorry," answered Madge distantly, her eyes growing stormy at the young man's peremptory tone. "Mr. Curtis explained to you why we are in a hurry to land. As long as he took you aboard our boat with us as a favor, you have no right to ask us to change our course."
The stranger clenched his fists and glanced angrily at Tom.
"Ain't you going to land me somewhere else first?" he demanded in a snarling voice.
Tom quietly shook his head. The sailboat was now only a little more than half a mile from the pier. The wind was fair, blowing them almost straight to the pier.
Tom Curtis was not looking. Suddenly the fellow sprang up and threw the tiller over. The boat jibed sharply. Madge cried out in quick alarm. Her cry saved Tom Curtis from being knocked overboard by the boom as it swung over to the other side of the boat.
"Keep away from this tiller," Tom called out angrily, seeing that their boat had now entirely changed its course. "I am sailing this boat."
"You are not sailing her, if you don't take her in where I say," the intruder declared fiercely. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth closed together with a snap. He stood by as if he were going to spring at Tom Curtis.
Madge's cheeks were burning. She was so angry that her throat felt dry and parched. "Don't pay any attention to him," she called indignantly. Tom Curtis hesitated.
"I don't fight when I have a woman guest on board the boat," he declared doggedly. "Once I run my boat in to the pier, you will answer for this."
"Never mind threatening me: I'm not afraid of you. You know you have got to land me where I say. What do you care about where you land? It is where I land that is important." Again the stranger made a rush for the tiller.
Tom sprang upon him. The two were evenly matched, and Madge held her breath as she watched them struggle. Brownie, Tom's setter dog, sprang for the stranger's leg, then retreated to one end of the boat howling with pain. The intruder had swung back his foot and dealt the dog a savage kick.
The rain had now begun to fall heavily, and the deck soon became slippery as glass. The two young men continued to struggle. Tom realized that he was endangering Madge's life, as well as his own, in this reckless battle on the deck of a small boat. He thought he now had the advantage. If he could only settle his hateful passenger with one swift blow all would he well. With this thought in mind he tore himself from the grasp of his antagonist, but he had forgotten the slippery deck. His foot shot out from under him, and he went down in a heap, falling heavily on one shoulder. The stranger sprang upon him, and now it was the ungrateful passenger who had the advantage and was mercilessly pushing him with both arms toward the edge of the boat. Slowly Tom gave way, inch by inch. He was conscious of a racking pain in his shoulder. He tried to raise his right arm; then a feeling of faintness swept over him, he reeled, and, before Madge could move to his help, Tom Curtis fell backward into the water.