Part 15 (2/2)

”Nothing more to say. Leave my s.h.i.+p at once!”

And directly the black dog, stretched at his wife's feet, muzzle on paws and blinking yellow eyes, growled discontentedly at the noise. Mrs.

Travers laughed a faint, bright laugh, that seemed to escape, to glide, to dart between her white teeth. D'Alcacer, concealing his amazement, was looking down at her gravely: and after a slight gasp, she said with little bursts of merriment between every few words:

”No, but this is--such--such a fresh experience for me to hear--to see something--genuine and human. Ah! ah! one would think they had waited all their lives for this opportunity--ah! ah! ah! All their lives--for this! ah! ah! ah!”

These strange words struck d'Alcacer as perfectly just, as throwing an unexpected light. But after a smile, he said, seriously:

”This reality may go too far. A man who looks so picturesque is capable of anything. Allow me--” And he left her side, moving toward Lingard, loose-limbed and gaunt, yet having in his whole bearing, in his walk, in every leisurely movement, an air of distinction and ceremony.

Lingard spun round with aggressive mien to the light touch on his shoulder, but as soon as he took his eyes off Mr. Travers, his anger fell, seemed to sink without a sound at his feet like a rejected garment.

”Pardon me,” said d'Alcacer, composedly. The slight wave of his hand was hardly more than an indication, the beginning of a conciliating gesture.

”Pardon me; but this is a matter requiring perfect confidence on both sides. Don Martin, here, who is a person of importance. . . .”

”I've spoken my mind plainly. I have said as much as I dare. On my word I have,” declared Lingard with an air of good temper.

”Ah!” said d'Alcacer, reflectively, ”then your reserve is a matter of pledged faith--of--of honour?”

Lingard also appeared thoughtful for a moment.

”You may put it that way. And I owe nothing to a man who couldn't see my hand when I put it out to him as I came aboard.”

”You have so much the advantage of us here,” replied d'Alcacer, ”that you may well be generous and forget that oversight; and then just a little more confidence. . . .”

”My dear d'Alcacer, you are absurd,” broke in Mr. Travers, in a calm voice but with white lips. ”I did not come out all this way to shake hands promiscuously and receive confidences from the first adventurer that comes along.”

D'Alcacer stepped back with an almost imperceptible inclination of the head at Lingard, who stood for a moment with twitching face.

”I _am_ an adventurer,” he burst out, ”and if I hadn't been an adventurer, I would have had to starve or work at home for such people as you. If I weren't an adventurer, you would be most likely lying dead on this deck with your cut throat gaping at the sky.”

Mr. Travers waved this speech away. But others also had heard. Carter listened watchfully and something, some alarming notion seemed to dawn all at once upon the thick little sailing-master, who rushed on his short legs, and tugging at Carter's sleeve, stammered desperately:

”What's he saying? Who's he? What's up? Are the natives unfriendly? My book says--'Natives friendly all along this coast!' My book says--”

Carter, who had glanced over the side, jerked his arm free.

”You go down into the pantry, where you belong, Skipper, and read that bit about the natives over again,” he said to his superior officer, with savage contempt. ”I'll be hanged if some of them ain't coming aboard now to eat you--book and all. Get out of the way, and let the gentlemen have the first chance of a row.”

Then addressing Lingard, he drawled in his old way:

”That crazy mate of yours has sent your boat back, with a couple of visitors in her, too.”

Before he apprehended plainly the meaning of these words, Lingard caught sight of two heads rising above the rail, the head of Ha.s.sim and the head of Immada. Then their bodies ascended into view as though these two beings had gradually emerged from the Shallows. They stood for a moment on the platform looking down on the deck as if about to step into the unknown, then descended and walking aft entered the half-light under the awning shading the luxurious surroundings, the complicated emotions of the, to them, inconceivable existences.

Lingard without waiting a moment cried:

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