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Iawoke,oppressedbyamysterioussensation.
Thereseemedsomethingmissinginmyenvironment.
Butthemysteryandoppressivenessvanishedafterthefirstfewsecondsofwaking,whenIidentifiedthemissingsomethingasthewind.
Ihadfallenasleepinthatstateofnervetensionwithwhichonemeetsthecontinuousshockofsoundormovement,andIhadawakened,stilltense,bracingmyselftomeetthepressureofsomethingwhichnolongerboreuponme.
ItwasthefirstnightIhadspentundercoverinseveralmonths,andIlayluxuriouslyforsomeminutesundermyblankets(foroncenotwetwithfogorspray),analysing,first,theeffectproduceduponmebythecessationofthewind,andnext,thejoywhichwasminefromrestingonthemattressmadebyMaud’shands.
WhenIhaddressedandopenedthedoor,Iheardthewavesstilllappingonthebeach,garrulouslyattestingthefuryofthenight.
Itwasaclearday,andthesunwasshining.
Ihadsleptlate,andIsteppedoutsidewithsuddenenergy,bentuponmakinguplosttimeasbefittedadwelleronEndeavourIsland.
Andwhenoutside,Istoppedshort.Ibelievedmyeyeswithoutquestion,andyetIwasforthemomentstunnedbywhattheydisclosedtome.
There,onthebeach,notfiftyfeetaway,bowon,dismasted,wasablack-hulledvessel.
Mastsandbooms,tangledwithshrouds,sheets,andrentcanvas,wererubbinggentlyalongside.
IcouldhaverubbedmyeyesasIlooked.
Therewasthehome-madegalleywehadbuilt,thefamiliarbreakofthepoop,thelowyacht-cabinscarcelyrisingabovetherail.ItwastheGhost.
Whatfreakoffortunehadbroughtithere—hereofallspots?whatchanceofchances?
Ilookedatthebleak,inaccessiblewallatmybackandknowtheprofundityofdespair.
Escapewashopeless,outofthequestion.
IthoughtofMaud,asleepthereinthehutwehadreared;Irememberedher“Good-night,Humphrey”;“mywoman,mymate,”wentringingthroughmybrain,butnow,alas,itwasaknellthatsounded.
Theneverythingwentblackbeforemyeyes.
Possiblyitwasthefractionofasecond,butIhadnoknowledgeofhowlonganintervalhadlapsedbeforeIwasmyselfagain.
TherelaytheGhost,bowontothebeach,hersplinteredbowspritprojectingoverthesand,hertangledsparsrubbingagainsthersidetotheliftofthecrooningwaves.Somethingmustbedone,mustbedone.
Itcameuponmesuddenly,asstrange,thatnothingmovedaboard.
Weariedfromthenightofstruggleandwreck,allhandswereyetasleep,Ithought.
MynextthoughtwasthatMaudandImightyetescape.
Ifwecouldtaketotheboatandmakeroundthepointbeforeanyoneawoke?Iwouldcallherandstart.
Myhandwasliftedatherdoortoknock,whenIrecollectedthesmallnessoftheisland.Wecouldneverhideourselvesuponit.
Therewasnothingforusbutthewiderawocean.
Ithoughtofoursnuglittlehuts,oursuppliesofmeatandoilandmossandfirewood,andIknewthatwecouldneversurvivethewintryseaandthegreatstormswhichweretocome.
SoIstood,withhesitantknuckle,withoutherdoor.Itwasimpossible,impossible.
Awildthoughtofrushinginandkillingherasshesleptroseinmymind.
Andthen,inaflash,thebettersolutioncametome.Allhandswereasleep.
WhynotcreepaboardtheGhost,—wellIknewthewaytoWolfLarsen’sbunk,—andkillhiminhissleep?Afterthat—well,wewouldsee.
Butwithhimdeadtherewastimeandspaceinwhichtopreparetodootherthings;andbesides,whatevernewsituationarose,itcouldnotpossiblybeworsethanthepresentone.
Myknifewasatmyhip.Ireturnedtomyhutfortheshot-gun,madesureitwasloaded,andwentdowntotheGhost.
Withsomedifficulty,andattheexpenseofawettingtothewaist,Iclimbedaboard.Theforecastlescuttlewasopen.
Ipausedtolistenforthebreathingofthemen,buttherewasnobreathing.
Ialmostgaspedasthethoughtcametome:WhatiftheGhostisdeserted?Ilistenedmoreclosely.Therewasnosound.Icautiouslydescendedtheladder.
Theplacehadtheemptyandmustyfeelandsmellusualtoadwellingnolongerinhabited.
Everywherewasathicklitterofdiscardedandraggedgarments,oldsea-boots,leakyoilskins—alltheworthlessforecastledunnageofalongvoyage.
Abandonedhastily,wasmyconclusion,asIascendedtothedeck.
Hopewasaliveagaininmybreast,andIlookedaboutmewithgreatercoolness.Inotedthattheboatsweremissing.
Thesteeragetoldthesametaleastheforecastle.
Thehuntershadpackedtheirbelongingswithsimilarhaste.TheGhostwasdeserted.ItwasMaud’sandmine.
Ithoughtoftheship’sstoresandthelazarettebeneaththecabin,andtheideacametomeofsurprisingMaudwithsomethingniceforbreakfast.
Thereactionfrommyfear,andtheknowledgethattheterribledeedIhadcometodowasnolongernecessary,mademeboyishandeager.
Iwentupthesteeragecompanion-waytwostepsatatime,withnothingdistinctinmymindexceptjoyandthehopethatMaudwouldsleeponuntilthesurprisebreakfastwasquitereadyforher.
AsIroundedthegalley,anewsatisfactionwasmineatthoughtofallthesplendidcookingutensilsinside.
Isprangupthebreakofthepoop,andsaw—WolfLarsen.
Whatofmyimpetusandthestunningsurprise,IclatteredthreeorfourstepsalongthedeckbeforeIcouldstopmyself.
Hewasstandinginthecompanion-way,onlyhisheadandshouldersvisible,staringstraightatme.
Hisarmswererestingonthehalf-openslide.
Hemadenomovementwhatever—simplystoodthere,staringatme.
Ibegantotremble.Theoldstomachsicknessclutchedme.
Iputonehandontheedgeofthehousetosteadymyself.
MylipsseemedsuddenlydryandImoistenedthemagainsttheneedofspeech.
NordidIforaninstanttakemyeyesoffhim.Neitherofusspoke.
Therewassomethingominousinhissilence,hisimmobility.
Allmyoldfearofhimreturnedandbynewfearwasincreasedanhundred-fold.
Andstillwestood,thepairofus,staringateachother.
Iwasawareofthedemandforaction,and,myoldhelplessnessstronguponme,Iwaswaitingforhimtotaketheinitiative.
Then,asthemomentswentby,itcametomethatthesituationwasanalogoustotheoneinwhichIhadapproachedthelong-manedbull,myintentionofclubbingobscuredbyfearuntilitbecameadesiretomakehimrun.
SoitwasatlastimpresseduponmethatIwasthere,nottohaveWolfLarsentaketheinitiative,buttotakeitmyself.
Icockedbothbarrelsandlevelledtheshot-gunathim.
Hadhemoved,attemptedtodropdownthecompanion-way,IknowIwouldhaveshothim.
Buthestoodmotionlessandstaringasbefore.
AndasIfacedhim,withlevelledgunshakinginmyhands,Ihadtimetonotethewornandhaggardappearanceofhisface.
Itwasasifsomestronganxietyhadwastedit.
Thecheeksweresunken,andtherewasawearied,puckeredexpressiononthebrow.
Anditseemedtomethathiseyeswerestrange,notonlytheexpression,butthephysicalseeming,asthoughtheopticnervesandsupportingmuscleshadsufferedstrainandslightlytwistedtheeyeballs.
AllthisIsaw,andmybrainnowworkingrapidly,Ithoughtathousandthoughts;andyetIcouldnotpullthetriggers.
Iloweredthegunandsteppedtothecornerofthecabin,primarilytorelievethetensiononmynervesandtomakeanewstart,andincidentallytobecloser.AgainIraisedthegun.Hewasalmostatarm’slength.Therewasnohopeforhim.Iwasresolved.
Therewasnopossiblechanceofmissinghim,nomatterhowpoormymarksmanship.
AndyetIwrestledwithmyselfandcouldnotpullthetriggers.
“Well?”hedemandedimpatiently.
Istrovevainlytoforcemyfingersdownonthetriggers,andvainlyIstrovetosaysomething.
“Whydon’tyoushoot?”heasked.
Iclearedmythroatofahuskinesswhichpreventedspeech.
“Hump,”hesaidslowly,“youcan’tdoit.Youarenotexactlyafraid.Youareimpotent.
Yourconventionalmoralityisstrongerthanyou.
Youaretheslavetotheopinionswhichhavecredenceamongthepeopleyouhaveknownandhavereadabout.
Theircodehasbeendrummedintoyourheadfromthetimeyoulisped,andinspiteofyourphilosophy,andofwhatIhavetaughtyou,itwon’tletyoukillanunarmed,unresistingman.”
“Iknowit,”Isaidhoarsely.
“AndyouknowthatIwouldkillanunarmedmanasreadilyasIwouldsmokeacigar,”hewenton.
“YouknowmeforwhatIam,—myworthintheworldbyyourstandard.
Youhavecalledmesnake,tiger,shark,monster,andCaliban.
Andyet,youlittleragpuppet,youlittleechoingmechanism,youareunabletokillmeasyouwouldasnakeorashark,becauseIhavehands,feet,andabodyshapedsomewhatlikeyours.Bah!
Ihadhopedbetterthingsofyou,Hump.”
Hesteppedoutofthecompanion-wayandcameuptome.
“Putdownthatgun.Iwanttoaskyousomequestions.
Ihaven’thadachancetolookaroundyet.Whatplaceisthis?HowistheGhostlying?Howdidyougetwet?Where’sMaud?
—Ibegyourpardon,MissBrewster—orshouldIsay,‘Mrs.VanWeyden’?”
Ihadbackedawayfromhim,almostweepingatmyinabilitytoshoothim,butnotfoolenoughtoputdownthegun.
Ihoped,desperately,thathemightcommitsomehostileact,attempttostrikemeorchokeme;forinsuchwayonlyIknewIcouldbestirredtoshoot.
“ThisisEndeavourIsland,”Isaid.
“Neverheardofit,”hebrokein.
“Atleast,that’sournameforit,”Iamended.
“Our?”hequeried.“Who’sour?”
“MissBrewsterandmyself.AndtheGhostislying,asyoucanseeforyourself,bowontothebeach.”
“Therearesealshere,”hesaid.“Theywokemeupwiththeirbarking,orI’dbesleepingyet.
IheardthemwhenIdroveinlastnight.
TheywerethefirstwarningthatIwasonaleeshore.
It’sarookery,thekindofathingI’vehuntedforyears.
ThankstomybrotherDeath,I’velightedonafortune.It’samint.What’sitsbearings?”
“Haven’ttheleastidea,”Isaid.“Butyououghttoknowquiteclosely.Whatwereyourlastobservations?”
Hesmiledinscrutably,butdidnotanswer.
“Well,where’sallhands?”Iasked.“Howdoesitcomethatyouarealone?”
Iwaspreparedforhimagaintosetasidemyquestion,andwassurprisedatthereadinessofhisreply.
“Mybrothergotmeinsideforty-eighthours,andthroughnofaultofmine.
Boardedmeinthenightwithonlythewatchondeck.Hunterswentbackonme.Hegavethemabiggerlay.Heardhimofferingit.Diditrightbeforeme.Ofcoursethecrewgavemethego-by.Thatwastobeexpected.
Allhandswentovertheside,andthereIwas,maroonedonmyownvessel.
ItwasDeath’sturn,andit’sallinthefamilyanyway.”
“Buthowdidyoulosethemasts?”Iasked.
“Walkoverandexaminethoselanyards,”hesaid,pointingtowherethemizzen-riggingshouldhavebeen.
“Theyhavebeencutwithaknife!”Iexclaimed.
“Notquite,”helaughed.“Itwasaneaterjob.Lookagain.”
Ilooked.Thelanyardshadbeenalmostsevered,withjustenoughlefttoholdtheshroudstillsomeseverestrainshouldbeputuponthem.
“Cookydidthat,”helaughedagain.“Iknow,thoughIdidn’tspothimatit.Kindofevenedupthescoreabit.”
“GoodforMugridge!”Icried.
“Yes,that’swhatIthoughtwheneverythingwentovertheside.OnlyIsaiditontheothersideofmymouth.”
“Butwhatwereyoudoingwhileallthiswasgoingon?”Iasked.
“Mybest,youmaybesure,whichwasn’tmuchunderthecircumstances.”
Iturnedtore-examineThomasMugridge’swork.
“IguessI’llsitdownandtakethesunshine,”IheardWolfLarsensaying.
Therewasahint,justaslighthint,ofphysicalfeeblenessinhisvoice,anditwassostrangethatIlookedquicklyathim.
Hishandwassweepingnervouslyacrosshisface,asthoughhewerebrushingawaycobwebs.Iwaspuzzled.
ThewholethingwassounliketheWolfLarsenIhadknown.
“Howareyourheadaches?”Iasked.
“Theystilltroubleme,”washisanswer.“IthinkIhaveonecomingonnow.”
Heslippeddownfromhissittingposturetillhelayonthedeck.
Thenherolledoveronhisside,hisheadrestingonthebicepsoftheunderarm,theforearmshieldinghiseyesfromthesun.Istoodregardinghimwonderingly.
“Now’syourchance,Hump,”hesaid.
“Idon’tunderstand,”Ilied,forIthoroughlyunderstood.
“Oh,nothing,”headdedsoftly,asifheweredrowsing;“onlyyou’vegotmewhereyouwantme.”
“No,Ihaven’t,”Iretorted;“forIwantyouafewthousandmilesawayfromhere.”
Hechuckled,andthereafterspokenomore.
HedidnotstirasIpassedbyhimandwentdownintothecabin.
Iliftedthetrapinthefloor,butforsomemomentsgazeddubiouslyintothedarknessofthelazarettebeneath.Ihesitatedtodescend.Whatifhislyingdownwerearuse?
Pretty,indeed,tobecaughttherelikearat.
Icreptsoftlyupthecompanion-wayandpeepedathim.HewaslyingasIhadlefthim.
AgainIwentbelow;butbeforeIdroppedintothelazaretteItooktheprecautionofcastingdownthedoorinadvance.
Atleasttherewouldbenolidtothetrap.Butitwasallneedless.
Iregainedthecabinwithastoreofjams,sea-biscuits,cannedmeats,andsuchthings,—allIcouldcarry,—andreplacedthetrap-door.
ApeepatWolfLarsenshowedmethathehadnotmoved.Abrightthoughtstruckme.
Istoleintohisstate-roomandpossessedmyselfofhisrevolvers.
Therewerenootherweapons,thoughIthoroughlyransackedthethreeremainingstate-rooms.
Tomakesure,Ireturnedandwentthroughthesteerageandforecastle,andinthegalleygatheredupallthesharpmeatandvegetableknives.
ThenIbethoughtmeofthegreatyachtsman’sknifehealwayscarried,andIcametohimandspoketohim,firstsoftly,thenloudly.Hedidnotmove.
Ibentoverandtookitfromhispocket.Ibreathedmorefreely.
Hehadnoarmswithwhichtoattackmefromadistance;whileI,armed,couldalwaysforestallhimshouldheattempttograpplemewithhisterriblegorillaarms.
Fillingacoffee-potandfrying-panwithpartofmyplunder,andtakingsomechinawarefromthecabinpantry,IleftWolfLarsenlyinginthesunandwentashore.
Maudwasstillasleep.Iblewuptheembers(wehadnotyetarrangedawinterkitchen),andquitefeverishlycookedthebreakfast.
Towardtheend,Iheardhermovingaboutwithinthehut,makinghertoilet.
Justasallwasreadyandthecoffeepoured,thedooropenedandshecameforth.
“It’snotfairofyou,”washergreeting.“Youareusurpingoneofmyprerogatives.YouknowyouIagreedthatthecookingshouldbemine,and—”
“Butjustthisonce,”Ipleaded.
“Ifyoupromisenottodoitagain,”shesmiled.“Unless,ofcourse,youhavegrowntiredofmypoorefforts.”
Tomydelightsheneveroncelookedtowardthebeach,andImaintainedthebanterwithsuchsuccessallunconsciouslyshesippedcoffeefromthechinacup,atefriedevaporatedpotatoes,andspreadmarmaladeonherbiscuit.Butitcouldnotlast.Isawthesurprisethatcameoverher.
Shehaddiscoveredthechinaplatefromwhichshewaseating.
Shelookedoverthebreakfast,notingdetailafterdetail.
Thenshelookedatme,andherfaceturnedslowlytowardthebeach.
“Humphrey!”shesaid.
Theoldunnamableterrormountedintohereyes.
“Is—he?”shequavered.
Inoddedmyhead.
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