CHAPTER VIII.—A Crumbling Edge.
Beelo’s Horror at the Fate Intended for Us. My Visit in Disguise to Mr. Vancouver. Annabel’s Dramatic Defiance, and How She Was Humbled.
BEELO sprang away and scampered into the forest as though Satan pursued. That gave me no uneasiness. I gathered up his twigs and began laboriously to weave the hut.
A gurgling laugh raised my head. Twenty feet away, in a direction opposite to that in which Beelo had disappeared, I saw him lying on the ground, kicking up his heels, and, his cheeks resting in his hands, mischievously laughing at me.
“You haven’t gone?” I said. “Christopher will come soon, and I have something to say to you first.”
He rose, came forward gingerly, and halted a safe distance away. I sometimes wondered whether any other man would have borne with him at all. The wretch knew that I had grown absurdly fond of him.
“What do you want to tell me?” he asked, as he crept nearer and contemptuously regarded my hutbuilding effort.
In a few words I frankly told him of my experience as a Senatra with Mr. Vancouver. He listened absorbed and aghast.
“I didn’t know,” he breathed. “I am glad you told me. You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Trust you, Beelo? Have I ever failed?”
“No, but you are always thinking of your people, never of Lentala and Beelo.”
“You have taught me to think of you and Lentala, else I never would have told you about Mr. Vancouver and his plot. But don’t you see? The king is using Mr. Vancouver to break up our colony, Beelo,” raising myself in aggressive earnestness. “You talk of my trusting you. I have already put my life and more than two hundred other lives in your hands. But not for one moment have you ever trusted me.”
He was deep in thought, and was distressed. Before I could ask him for the cause, Christopher came up.
“Something is going to happen very soon,” Beelo said. “Christopher, what did you say to the native that came to see Mr. Vancouver?”
Christopher wore his stupidest manner Beelo reached round, picked up a stick and threatened him.
“You know what I said. Now answer—quick!”
“Me?”
“Me?” mocked Beelo, and struck him. The nearest that I had ever seen to a smile on Christopher’s face came then as a twinkle in his eyes.
“I’ll tell you,” he answered. “I told him Mr. Vancouver didn’t never want to see him no more.” That was a long speech for Christopher.
“Then what happened?” impatiently demanded Beelo.
“I done this a-way at him.” Christopher crossed his eyes and made a grimace at Beelo. The act was so unexpected and terrifying that Beelo started back in alarm, and then rolled on the ground in laughter.
He sat up. “What did the man do then?”
“This a-way.” Christopher’s face assumed a look of astonishment and fear.
“What then?”
“He runned away.”
Beelo nodded thoughtfully, and said:
“The king will think Mr. Vancouver changed his mind. Very well. Now he won’t wait any longer. He will make a demand for one of your people.” His manner was grave.
He was surprised when I informed him of Captain Mason’s determination that the young men be permitted to leave the valley, and that Lentala should arrange for their being turned back,—I had no heart to say anything about their rough handling by the natives.
“I’ll tell her,” he said. “I think she can manage it.”
“But are you sure?” I anxiously demanded.
“Don’t worry, Choseph. You are too serious to be happy. Let’s talk about the first man to go out when the king sends for one. Do you wish Mr. Vancouver to go?” The question came with a keen look.
“Not if it will expose him to any danger, or give him an opportunity to plot against us.”
Beelo’s look became suspicious. “What do you owe him, that he is not to be exposed to danger?” he asked.
Seeing the trend of his question, I was irritated, and sternly said:
“That is my affair, and I won’t discuss it. If there’s to be anything petty and spiteful in the matters of life and death that we are planning, I will stop everything right here, or demand that Lentala send some one else to me if it is impossible for her to come.”
Beelo was staring at me in surprise. He turned inquiringly to Christopher, and saw gentler but none the less reproving eyes. For a second he floundered between resentment and irrepressible good-nature, and then with a laugh threw a handful of sand at Christopher.
“Choseph!” he cried; “I didn’t mean anything, really I didn’t. And I’ll be good.” After reflection he asked, “Who is Mr. Vancouver’s best friend?”
“A man named Rawley.”
“You think he knows Mr. Vancouver’s plan?”
“He certainly does.”
“Then let him be the first.”
Darkness crouched behind all of this, but Beelo’s intelligent eyes were a light ahead. Unquestionably his mind was working rapidly, but his speech was slow and had silent intervals. He and Lentala were evidently undertaking severe tasks and desperate risks the nature of which I could not even surmise. Some profound motive must be urging them on.
“When he is taken out of the valley,” Beelo said after a pause, “I’ll want you and Christopher to go too, with me. Will you?”
“We’ll do anything you wish, Beelo.”
“As natives.”
“Good.”
“It will be very dangerous.”
“That is nothing.”
“Not a soul is to know but your captain. Not Annabel, mind you!” he abruptly added.
“Certainly not.”
“And you both promise that if your lives are threatened, you will try not to hurt or kill any one except as a last resort?”
We promised.
“Now,” said Beelo, “I want Christopher to go with me at once, and we’ll make a raft. When we go out of the valley it will be by way of the river.”
“That is all fully agreed to, dear little brother,” I said firmly, “but some things must be understood. The first is that no harm shall befall any man taken out of the valley by the king’s order.”
“You don’t trust me, Choseph,” he replied, looking hurt.
“Far more than you trust me,” I kindly but emphatically said. “While I know that wisdom and a noble purpose are in your and Lentala’s every plan and act, I have heavy responsibilities, and I know that four heads would be better than two in this matter. I have no right to go ahead in the dark, and I demand to know what the plans are.”
The pain in Beelo’s face deepened, but there was no resentment.
“It isn’t that I don’t trust you, Choseph,” he said, an appealing look in his eyes.
“What is it, then?”
He looked hunted, and blurted out:
“That’s what you and Christopher are going with me for,—to keep from harm the man whom the king will send for, and——”
“What is the danger to him?” I insisted.
“I don’t know! I can only imagine!” he passionately said. “It’s horrible. I think you understand. And you are to lay plans with Lentala for saving the colony.”
I was about to press the matter further, but a look from Christopher stopped me.
“I am sorry to have pained you, dear little brother.” I took his hand. “Will you forgive me?”
“Yes,” with a smile.
He rose, and his relief was shaded with anxiety. This parting was the first sad one. I also had risen, and the boy was looking up into my face.
“I am trusting you,” he said, “trusting you with my life and Lentala’s, and the lives of many others.”
“Yes, and you’ll find me worthy, dear little brother.”
“I know.” He withdrew his hand, took Christopher’s arm and pressed it to his own side, and peered deep into his eyes. “Do you love me, old Christopher?”
“Me?”
Beelo gently slapped Christopher’s cheek.
“Answer! Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Christopher,” impressively, “if my life were in danger, and you could save me by giving your own life, would you?”
“Me?”
“You needn’t answer if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, I would die for you.”
In a burst of laughter Beelo drew his big head down and laid his cheek against it. “What an absurd old Christopher!” he cried. “Come.”
He stepped back, and again turned to me.
“Choseph, one thing more! As the king’s messenger will you again see Mr. Vancouver?”
“Yes, if you wish.‘’
“It’s better. Tell him to send the young men out whenever he pleases, and to take the passage by which you entered the valley.”
“I understand.”
“That is all. Good-bye.” He walked away slowly with Christopher, and for the first time I noticed that he looked as though bearing a burden heavy for his strength.
After laying the matter before Captain Mason, I prepared my disguise and visited Mr. Vancouver that evening. He and Rawley occupied the same hut; Annabel slept in one adjoining. I had previously taken care to note that as Annabel was helping a young mother with the care of an ailing infant, she would not likely intrude on my visit.
The two men were startled when they found me standing silently before them. In the dim light of a nut-oil lamp I saw Rawley’s face blanch, and I wondered how he would bear the ordeal fronting him outside the valley.
“Well?” eagerly said Mr. Vancouver.
After instructing him as to the sending out of the young men, I informed him that the king was nearly ready for a man, and added that Rawley would be acceptable. Mr. Vancouver was disappointed that he himself could not go, but cheerfully said:
“Certainly. Mr. Rawley will be glad to go.”
I enjoyed the young man’s dismay. Not so Mr. Vancouver.
“Why, man, it’s the opportunity of a lifetime!” he declared to Rawley. “There’s no danger. The king will furnish a safe-conduct—won’t he?” he added, turning to me.
“I suppose so. Your friend couldn’t find the way otherwise.”
“Of course! Brace up, Rawley, and thank your stars for your good fortune. You’ll have important things to tell me when you return.” For all his cheering manner, Mr. Vancouver could not conceal his contempt. To me he said: “Give the king my thanks. Tell him that his kind offer is gratefully accepted, and that Mr. Rawley will be ready at any time.”
Rawley was a bluish white.
“Very well,” he faintly said; “I’ll have to go, I suppose, but who knows what is really to be done with me? I don’t———” With a gesture Mr. Vancouver stopped the indiscreet speech.
“Give the king my message of thanks and grateful acceptance,” he snapped out in his old business-like way. “Mr. Rawley will go whenever he is summoned.”
I bowed, and turned to leave, but found Annabel blocking the door. Her eyes were wide with surprise. She had never before seen natives near the camp at night, and never one alone. With unexpected firmness she refused to let me pass.
“Father, Mr. Rawley, what does this mean? Where is Mr. Rawley going?”
The men sat dumb. Annabel’s instinct told her that treachery was in the air.
“Does Captain Mason know about this?” she asked.
Mr. Vancouver was the first to recover, but he underestimated his daughter’s shrewdness.
“Not so loud, daughter. It is all right. Let the man pass. I’ll explain.”
Among Annabel’s charms was a certain rashness. Here she stood between affection and duty, and it would be interesting to observe the outcome. I was glad that she continued to bar my escape.
“If it’s all right,” she said, “let us three go with this man to Captain Mason and——”
“We’ll have no more nonsense, daughter! Are you aware what your attitude toward me means?”
“I don’t know, father. I—I don’t understand. You have never spoken this way to me before. Surely——”
“This foolishness must stop here,” her father brusquely said, rising and advancing, with the evident intention of dragging her from the door; but something in her face stopped him. It was time for me to interfere, lest she spoil everything. The risk was in lending my voice to her sensitive ear.
“He knows,” I gruffly said.
“Captain Mason?”
I nodded.
“Come with me and say that to him,” she demanded. I nodded again. The exasperation and fear in Mr. Vancouver’s face did not escape his daughter.
“I won’t have it!” he nearly shouted. To me,
“Don’t you go, or I’ll——”
I stopped him with a knowing look, which he rightly understood to mean that it would be well to lay her suspicions by going, and that I might be depended on to handle the matter satisfactorily. In truth, I was enjoying the situation too much for thought of graver things. And I had never seen Annabel so superb.
“Father,” she said, “you owe this to me, and I owe it to you.”
Mr. Vancouver’s uneasy face betrayed his predicament. Might he trust my ability to deceive Captain Mason? was his evident thought. The peril was great. I was maliciously happy over the grinding of the man.
Suppose I should make a slip with Captain Mason: that would mean the hangman’s noose for Mr. Vancouver,—I knew he was thinking all that. I could not resist the temptation to harry him.
“I go,” I said to Annabel.
She wavered, but her courage rose, and with reckless heroism she stepped out without looking at her father.
I followed in silence. She did not glance back, and I think she was glad that the men remained in the hut. With her head held up by the high purpose within her, she walked as though she were above the stars and they were her stepping-stones. Once she stopped short. I was certain that love had conquered and that she would tell me my willingness to go satisfied her, and so would send me away; but she went desperately on.
There was a brilliant tropical moon, and the captain was sitting in the shine of it on the outer bench of his hut. He rose in surprise.
“Captain Mason,” panted Annabel, “I found this native in our camp just now, and I wondered if you knew.”
He had recognized me, but Annabel did not see the twinkle in his eyes. He knew that I had blundered in letting her discover me with her father. I was amazed at the fine delicacy of the man. Instead of asking her questions, he demanded an explanation of me. With great caution not to betray myself, I said that I had the king’s permission to take Rawley out, that he might see something of the island, and procure some of the gems so abundant there.
The moonlight revealed the shame that burned Annabel’s cheeks because she had doubted her father. Would Captain Mason have the tact to cure her hurt?
“May I take your hand?” he asked. She wonderingly yielded it. As he held it and looked down into her lovely face there came into his voice a gentleness, a tenderness, that I am certain had been hitherto strange to it. “This is a wonderful thing that you have done,—the noblest, bravest thing that I have ever seen in my life. It was so not alone because it might have meant a matter of life and death, but because it was hard to do. I am proud to know and be trusted by such a woman.”
Tears were slipping down her cheeks as he released her hand.
“If you have that kindly regard for me, Captain Mason,” she said, “let it extend to my father. He meant nothing wrong in violating the rule.”
“He has special privileges, Miss Vancouver. I will pay no attention to the incident.”