Part 16 (2/2)

”Why,” I told him, ”Amos tied me to a tree, and left me in the wilderness to starve. And then I fell into the hands of savage men, to whom I shall be ever grateful. From their dwellings in the forest I journeyed alone to Cahazaxa's Temple, and thence across the plain to the Wood of the Red Fish, where I find an old friend, and still believe that I am dreaming. It is months now since I last set eyes upon a white man, and that was Amos Baverstock himself.”

”Months!” cried Rushby in amazement. ”You've not seen Baverstock--for months!”

He looked at me as if he thought that I was lying. I was at a loss to know what he was driving at, though I a.s.sured him that I spoke the truth.

”Months!” he repeated, holding his head between his hands, as if his puzzled brains were paining him. ”But we were told, two days ago, that Amos held you prisoner.”

”Who told you?” I demanded.

I was now as surprised as he, and even more astonished when I heard his answer.

”Baverstock himself,” said Rushby.

”Amos!” I exclaimed. ”You have seen him, then?”

”He lied to me!” cried Rushby, driving his clenched fist into the palm of a hand. ”He lied to me! And Bannister was right.”

”Bannister!” I echoed.

But Rushby, rocking his shoulders from side to side like a man who suffers anguish, stamped a foot upon the ground.

”Oh, but I have done a fool's thing!” he cried. ”I have been fooled, and I have sent John Bannister to death!”

I stood before him, speechless, gasping. Though I could make neither head nor tail of what he had told me, I could see with my eyes that the man was suffering torture in his soul. If Bannister was in danger, if it was possible to save anything from the fire, it was I myself--and I alone--who was capable of action, since Rushby was dead lame. And yet I must first know the truth of the matter, for I was wholly in the dark.

I went to Rushby and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

”Come, tell me what it all means,” said I. ”Tell me your story from the first.”

He looked up at me, and then for the first time smiled--a sad smile, none the less.

”Sit down,” he answered, in a calmer voice. ”I will tell you all from the beginning, as quickly as I can.”

CHAPTER XIX--THE BOATSWAIN TELLS HIS STORY

This that follows is the story that was told to me by William Rushby, sometime boatswain of the _Mary Greenfield_, as we sat together side by side in the ravine, the while John Bannister had gone forth alone in peril of his life.

To begin with, he reminded me of that evening when he had spoken to me through the porthole on the s.h.i.+p, when I was held a prisoner in the cabin that I shared with Amos Baverstock. After that--it will be remembered--I never saw him again; for when the s.h.i.+p arrived at Caracas, I was transported by night to the hills beyond the town.

As for Rushby, he fell in with a friend--and that is the best of being a sailor, who is never at a loss for a handshake and a word of greeting in every port in all the world. For the boatswain, when the s.h.i.+p was alongside the wharf, had seized the opportunity to desert, and lay in hiding in the town, until news was brought him that Amos and his party had set forth across the mountains. He then worked his way to Rio, and a month later turned up in Southampton, where by the merest chance he found John Bannister, about to set forth in quest of me across the Western Ocean.

The boatswain told Bannister all he knew, and together they searched in the warren for the rabbit-hole in which I had hidden my fragment of the map. This they found at last, not much the worse for wear; and having set my mother's fears at rest, so far as they were able, they started forth together for the port of Colon; for Bannister, knowing whither Amos Baverstock was bound, deemed that the shortest route.

From Colon they crossed the Isthmus to Panama, and thence sailed--as Pizarro himself had done--down the coast to Guayaquil, the port of Equador. From this place they journeyed inland, pa.s.sed the great height of Chimborazo, the summit of the Andes, and thence eastward, a march of many weeks, into the Wild Region of the Woods.

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