It was, in truth, these same “waves” which had whispered him to take the one slight precaution of keeping Elsa on board till the situation had been traversed. As a matter of fact, one of the sly, unspoken objects back of his acquiescence in Elsa’s request to come along with him on this voyage had been the thought that her presence here would have a stimulating and reassuring, a sort of bolstering effect on Mrs. King. If she had grown lonely and discontented, Elsa would cheer her and (with perhaps a little judicious manipulation) convince her that it would be much easier now to face out another year on the island. If King was doing well it would be a pity to let him slip on to other fields just yet.
But the Captain had felt strangely uneasy, from the moment the anchor dropped; and he preferred that Elsa be held temporarily in reserve. As a recruit, Jerome, also, was a little new. But Utterbourne was anxious not to strike any wrong notes of unnecessary secrecy with him just now, and besides wanted him to get more or less the “feeling” of these adventures, which would help his background. Backgrounds were very important things. He little guessed the commotion in Jerome’s mind at the present moment.
A step or two farther along, Captain Utterbourne remembered he had neglected to bring out a small chest of bright trash which Tsuda would pounce on eagerly—gay, valueless objects that would fit into his scheme of Ainu culture. Possibly the chest might tend to put Tsuda in a frame of mind for withholding nothing. Men like Tsuda had to be treated tenderly. The trouble with Tsuda was that he was too suspicious. Tsuda would be suspicious of a fly if it happened to look a little different from most other flies.
“Would you mind, Sargeant, going back for it now—h’m?”
So the party temporarily disbanded. Utterbourne and Sutherland went on with Tsuda, while Sargeant and Rutherford turned back toward the launch.
At this moment of disruption a wild and romantic design entered Jerome’s head and captured it entirely. In the dark he made his escape from both parties. Utterbourne supposed he had gone back with Sargeant, while the returning men thought he had gone on with Utterbourne—or rather no one gave him any deliberate thought at all. But Jerome, dodging behind a huge palm, waited until the steps in both directions had died out.
Alone on an unknown island he stood, his heart given over to a sudden wave of impulse. Stella was dead. In life their ways had been roughly sundered; in death she seemed, during this feverish, pulsing hour, given back to him again. He seemed to have achieved an intangible victory over the man who had once cast him into a humiliating discard—yes, all in the first, swift, terrible knowledge of her fate.
He would go alone to her grave—he would be the first to look upon it. Perhaps the others would not even go, since after all what is a grave? But he would go; it was his hour of triumph. Life had divided their ways, but death had brought them together again. Poor Stella. Things had turned out very differently with her from what she had hoped. Probably no one would ever know just what had taken place. She became starry with mystery and bound up in an eternal beauty of suspense. Yes, he would go to her grave; for despite what he had become, Stella must always be in his mind the woman he once loved. Indifference, while it may carry a man far, can never quite blot out a memory like that.
During the preceding sombre conversation he had caught at words as they fell, almost without heeding them at the time. Now they hung together in his mind and formed a vivid picture. The grave was near the temple ... you could tell it by the fresh flowers. And the string of lights ... they were taking up an offering ... an offering to heathen gods for the soul of Stella. It was ghastly. It all but passed belief.
Keeping his distance, and walking as softly as possible, Jerome made off after the procession of twinkling lights. Overhead the heavy tropical stars were shining brightly. There would be a moon presently; the east was aglow; but in the jungle it was very dark. The way was long, and the strange men with the lights went ever on ahead.