As we neared the Caribas, I detected our helmsman giving orders by signs, interjected with an occasional word that I did not understand. Although I called Fidette’s attention to the circumstance, she was quite as unable to comprehend the meaning of the helmsman’s conduct. Observing for myself, I saw that every man in the boat took out from its sheath and carefully examined a long, ugly-looking knife.
I feared that we were about to be assassinated.
With as much dignity as possible, I made my way to the stern of the boat and demanded an explanation of the officer.
He explained that he had special orders from the Chief Kantoon to place me in possession of my ship, and that he intended to do so. He expected opposition. The present captain of the Caribas was a plucky young man, who would fight. The contest would be apparently an uneven one, because the prize crew of the Caribas outnumbered the force in the galley two to one. He relied, however, upon the authority that was conferred upon him by the Chief Kantoon and the general respect for the ruler of the Sargassons. He believed that after he had publicly exhibited to the men on the Caribas the green tarpon scale, which would be recognized at once as a message from the Chief Kantoon, opposition would cease. The mutinous commander would be seized and promptly executed.
I felt regret at this summary disposal of my unknown rival. During the whole journey I had been attempting to conceive of some means by which his life might be spared. I hated to rise to power and influence over the dead body of a man who, I assumed, had never done me wrong, but I had not found any means of preventing the catastrophe. The will of the Chief Kantoon was law in Sargasso. Nobody, high or low, dared oppose it.
We were now within a cable’s length of my old ship. In prospect of the change of commanders, the hull had been scraped of barnacles, and the dear craft looked as neat as in her palmiest days. Excepting the man on the bridge, I saw no evidence of life on the ship.
We reached the landing stage, that had been erected for the occasion, and the young officer in charge of our boat’s crew fearlessly seized a dangling rope’s end and climbed over the ship’s side. He held in his teeth the talismanic tarpon scale. He knew, as I did, that it was his sole palladium of safety. Without it he would have been set upon the instant he touched the deck and cut to pieces. Close behind him followed twenty of the barge’s crew. There was no concealment of the knives. After the crew, we slowly ascended amid the cheers of the ten men still remaining in the barge. Before emerging over the top of the bulwarks I had listened attentively for the clashing of arms; but I heard nothing, and, when I reached the deck, I saw nothing. Four stalwart members of our boat’s crew stood there as guards, with the flesh-quivering knives in their hands.
In the after-cabin sat the late commander of the Caribas, tied in a chair, and as we were slowly conducted back, he turned his face in my direction.
To my surprise, I recognized the cause of all my trouble, Arthur Gray!