AT HIDE AND SEEK WITH THE ENEMY
The white buildings of that city, with the green mountain background, and the white beach, overhung with its graceful palms, presented a pleasing picture. I remember I thought what a place this would be to spend a peaceful holiday; to fish, to hunt, to feast on the luscious fruits, and explore those forests of mountain and valley, and the wonders of the caves. If only we had never come up with that fiend, Duran.
When Captain Marat had seen to it that all was snug, and the awning stretched, he turned his eyes toward the Orion, who likewise had stowed her cloth under gaskets.
"I did not think that Duran would come in to thees place," he said.
"He tried to shake us off his tail by running fast," said Ray; "and he tried to scrape us off on reefs; and now I guess he's come in here to try to crawl through some hole that'll be too small for us."
"Well, that skunk is here to try some devilment, that's sure," observed Norris.
We kept a sharp eye on the Orion. Within the hour we saw a small boat from the city boarding her. In twenty minutes that boat came to the Pearl. The port doctor came over the rail. He was a Spaniard, but with a good command of English. He asked the usual questions of Captain Marat.
"Well," he said, when he had his answers, "I am afraid we'll have to hold you in quarantine. I learn there is yellow fever in the port from which you came."
"I believe there is some mistake," said Marat, "we heard of no yellow fever there."
"Pardon me," I interposed, "but did you get your information from the Orion?"
"Yes," admitted the doctor, "from Monsieur Duran."
"And is the Orion to be quarantined?" I asked.
"No," he said, "the Orion has not been in that port for months. The outbreak of yellow fever is less than three weeks old. Duran was hailed by a ship that gave him the news."
"We know," I told him, "that that man Duran was in the port on the day preceding that on which we sailed."
There was a dubious look in the official's face. And now he had come to dividing his attention between myself and a steamer that was just moving in. He put his binoculars to his eyes. Some moments he looked, and then he turned to us.
"Wait," he said. "There is a steamer from your port. I shall be back presently."
With that he got over the rail and went off in his boat to the steamer.
"Now then," said Norris, when he was gone, "there's that skunk's trick."
"But it's a monkey trick," said Ray. "He ought to know we'd have our story to tell."
"Maybe," suggested Julian, "he thought his wines—and maybe some gold—would give greater weight to his story."
I, too, had got the smell of liquor from the doctor's breath. It was quite probable Duran had been making very friendly with this official.
"Perhaps Duran counted on our going outside the harbor rather than be delayed in quarantine," said Robert.
"Yes, and that would suit him ver' well," said Marat. "He could then try and slip by in thee dark."
The doctor came back, as he had promised. And he spoke us without again coming aboard.
"That was some mistake about the yellow fever," he said. "You will be free to go ashore."
"Well, and what will our voodoo priest try next?" said Grant Norris.
"Next, he'll have us arrested, for disturbing the peace," said Julian.
"His peace of mind," added Ray.
Our discussion became serious now. The more Duran sought to shake us, the more important that we observe his every movement.
That he would be going ashore into the city was reasonably certain. If we were to see what he did there, it might be well to precede him, and lie in wait. Grant Norris, Robert Murtry, and Julian Lamartine, were selected for this expedition. Julian, like Jean Marat, had a fair command of the Spanish, which was the language of this port.
The three were in the small boat, ready to push off, when I recollected the bit of paper in my pocket, on which I had copied the addresses from Duran's book in the old ruin. There was among them an address in this port. I had out the paper, and called out the name to Julian, Paul Marcel was the name.
We saw the boat of our friends go among the wharves. It was not long till—"There he goes now!" cried Ray, and we saw a small boat moving shoreward from the schooner Orion.
The moon, approaching its first quarter, set at ten that night, and our three had not returned from the city. The anchor-light on the Orion was all we could see of her.
It was near midnight when I heard the dip of oars approaching, and directly Norris, Julian, and Robert climbed over the rail.
"It was a tame party we had," grumbled Norris. "Our friend Duran is back on his schooner."
"But the address was right," said Robert.
"Yes," offered Julian, "Duran spent most of his time at the home of a Monsieur Paul Marcel; and when he came out on the verandah to go, I heard him appoint to come back tomorrow. And they talked of some kind of party for tomorrow night."
Tame as Norris considered their excursion on shore, Robert recounted a feature of that adventure that had not a little to do toward putting Norris in a bad humour. When they saw Duran, accompanied by his two blacks, very evidently making to the boat, our party fell back, not to be seen by Duran at the wharf. But what should happen but that Duran should suddenly step from behind a corner of a shed and laugh derisively in their faces.
It occurred to me that, in view of the circumstance, there might be some talk on the Orion that it should profit us to hear a word of. I said as much to Captain Marat; and we two set off forthwith in a small boat, to have a try.
We made a detour, and approached the Orion from the far side. There were other boats moving about, making us the less conspicuous, and besides, the inky darkness favored us. So that we came in under the Orion's bows unnoted. Voices there were speaking on the deck, and Captain Marat cocked his ear to them, as we held to the stays.
He repeated it all to me afterward, and this is pretty much the way of the talk he heard:
"There will be no risk. Of course, if the big one is there, we will wait till the next night."
"But the noise will—"
"But there need be no noise. It must be—"
"Yes, that won't be so bad, and it will be dark. And now I want you to know, Monsieur, that the men are beginning to fear they will never see the gold you have promised them. This being pursued is a new thing for them. And then, you have always been all powerful, and never had to give over your plans and flee. And we have come so far from—"
"Bah! You must make them to understand again that these infernal Americans have Carlos Brill with them, and they are after my secrets—they want the gold. And I cannot afford to give them the least hint where it lies. We must finally shake them off; then we go back home; I land the regular place, at the foot of Twin Hills. Then no one can follow. And in the week I will have out all the gold that is mined. Then I will give the men more gold than they ever dreamed of having, and they will be free to go and spend. And for two years, maybe three years, I will not go near the mine.
"And no one will ever find it. No, it is safe; that is very sure. Tell them. And you—you know what I have promised you. I make you the most wealthy black, that ever lived, and I will never feel the loss of what I give you. But you must not fail me."
"Oh, monsieur, believe me, I will do my work well."
"If you succeed, you must make no mistake about the place to meet us; we must not leave them behind, here."
"Yes, monsieur; there will be no mistake. I know my work."
The voices became indistinct as the speakers moved away. Then Marat took up the oars again and quietly got our boat away in the dark.
It was then he repeated to me what he had heard.
"Then we came just too late to hear what this thing is they plan," I said.
"Yes," agreed Captain Marat, "but we got one clue to the mine. He say he weel 'land at foot of Twin Hills'—back home. We look on thee chart; that it is near that place where we begin the pursuit."
We were soon aboard the Pearl, the chart on the table.
"There!" said Captain Marat. And he put the end of a match on the spot marked, "Twin Hills." It was close to the sea line, less than five miles from the cove in which we discovered the Orion.
And then I had a thought.
"That must be where we saw a small boat starting toward shore from the Orion," I said.
"Just so," said Marat. "It was Duran, going to land 'The regular place,' to go to his mine."
"Well, now," began Ray, who had followed us into the cabin, "you folks seem to know a heap. Where do you get all your wisdom?"
We got all our party together, and Marat repeated what we had learned.
"So the mine is away back up there where we started from, after all," said Norris. "And here we are a week's sail from the place we're after. If that skunk would only drop some decent clue to the place, I trust Wayne here to find it, and we could leave Mr. 'Monsieur voodoo priest' to sail the globe, if he likes, while we go back and take possession of Carlos's mine."
"But what is the meaning of the other talk," said Julian. "What is this thing they are up to?"
And this is the thing we got news of the following night, as shall be seen.
We were early astir in the morning. Most of us spent the greater part of the day ashore. And we had an eye on Duran's movements, for he, too, put in the day in the city. He was apparently well known among a number of the citizens, for he was often greeted familiarly. And he spent much money that day, for wines, flowers, and dainties for the palate, all of which were carted to the residence of Monsieur Marcel; so it became apparent it was Duran that was giving the party.
Night found Ray and myself among the lookers-on, made up of the poor of the neighborhood. They were allowed to encroach on the lawn, where they stood among the planted bushes and under the palms. And drink and dainties were sent out for the rabble, who gorged themselves at the expense of Duran.
The house was large, with extensive verandas, on which the guests danced to the music of an orchestra. There was a great hum of voices, and much laughter.
Ray and I could see Duran, from time to time, as he played the gay cavalier; and he was apparently very popular with the ladies, with whom he danced and promenaded. His deportment was that of a real gentleman, and his dress was most correct. I thought of that other night, when I had seen this same man in a red robe; in his blackened face, under a turban, the look of a fiend; in his hand a knife ready for a horrid deed. To fathom such a character was beyond my power of reasoning. A learned man has since sought to explain the thing to me, by saying that the little part of black blood in this man was doubtless descended from a cannibal; and those instincts would at times come to the fore. And then, too, he said, much of the white in this man might easily be descended from a "wolf in sheep's clothing," which is not so uncommon a phenomenon in society today.
The mob that was about us was all gone, long before eleven o'clock. But the dancing and gaiety at the house showed no abatement.
We two were in a bit of brush, at a point that gave us a good view of the premises. The moon was long gone, but the house lights made a halo all about.
"Well, I don't see what good we are doing here," said Ray at last. "That Duran will go to his schooner when this thing is over, and we don't care what he does before then."
"He might slip away in some other vessel," I said.
Another hour passed.
And then Duran came out on the verandah, and appeared to be looking directly toward us. I was sure he could not see us, for we crouched in the blackest of shadows.
"There is that white voodoo, again," said Ray. "I wonder if he's going to keep that crowd going till daylight. Folks ought to have some sense of—"
His speech was cut off. And that instant I was enveloped in a cloth, held about me with strong arms; and I felt a pressure on my mouth.
To struggle, I soon found to be useless. Many hands seemed to be holding me, and I was picked off the ground, my bearers pattering along at a rate.
Presently we came to a stop, and I was tumbled into some kind of a wagon, as the creak of the wheels told me. And there was a body jostling me in the wagon-bed—Ray.