Part 43 (2/2)

By that time Lingard had entered, too, and the decks of the Emma were all astir with moving figures. Jorgenson's voice was also heard giving directions. For nearly a minute the four persons within the Cage remained motionless. A shadowy Malay in the gangway said suddenly: ”Sudah, Tuan,” and Lingard murmured, ”Ready, Mrs. Travers.”

She seized d'Alcacer's arm and led him to the side of the Cage furthest from the corner in which Mr. Travers' bed was placed, while Lingard busied himself in p.r.i.c.king up the wick of the Cage lantern as if it had suddenly occurred to him that this, whatever happened, should not be a deed of darkness. Mr. Travers did nothing but turn his head to look over his shoulder.

”One moment,” said d'Alcacer, in a low tone and smiling at Mrs. Travers'

agitation. ”Before you tell me anything let me ask you: 'Have _you_ made up your mind?'” He saw with much surprise a widening of her eyes. Was it indignation? A pause as of suspicion fell between those two people. Then d'Alcacer said apologetically: ”Perhaps I ought not to have asked that question,” and Lingard caught Mrs. Travers' words, ”Oh, I am not afraid to answer that question.”

Then their voices sank. Lingard hung the lamp up again and stood idle in the revived light; but almost immediately he heard d'Alcacer calling him discreetly.

”Captain Lingard!”

He moved toward them at once. At the same instant Mr. Travers' head pivoted away from the group to its frontal position.

D'Alcacer, very serious, spoke in a familiar undertone.

”Mrs. Travers tells me that we must be delivered up to those Moors on sh.o.r.e.”

”Yes, there is nothing else for it,” said Lingard.

”I confess I am a bit startled,” said d'Alcacer; but except for a slightly hurried utterance n.o.body could have guessed at anything resembling emotion.

”I have a right to my good name,” said Lingard, also very calm, while Mrs. Travers near him, with half-veiled eyes, listened impa.s.sive like a presiding genius.

”I wouldn't question that for a moment,” conceded d'Alcacer. ”A point of honour is not to be discussed. But there is such a thing as humanity, too. To be delivered up helplessly. . . .”

”Perhaps!” interrupted Lingard. ”But you needn't feel hopeless. I am not at liberty to give up my life for your own. Mrs. Travers knows why.

That, too, is engaged.”

”Always on your honour?”

”I don't know. A promise is a promise.”

”n.o.body can be held to the impossible,” remarked d'Alcacer.

”Impossible! What is impossible? I don't know it. I am not a man to talk of the impossible or dodge behind it. I did not bring you here.”

D'Alcacer lowered his head for a moment. ”I have finished,” he said, gravely. ”That much I had to say. I hope you don't think I have appeared unduly anxious.”

”It's the best policy, too.” Mrs. Travers made herself heard suddenly.

Nothing of her moved but her lips, she did not even raise her eyes.

”It's the only possible policy. You believe me, Mr. d'Alcacer? . . .” He made an almost imperceptible movement of the head. . . . ”Well, then, I put all my hope in you, Mr. d'Alcacer, to get this over as easily as possible and save us all from some odious scene. You think perhaps that it is I who ought to. . . .”

”No, no! I don't think so,” interrupted d'Alcacer. ”It would be impossible.”

”I am afraid it would,” she admitted, nervously.

D'Alcacer made a gesture as if to beg her to say no more and at once crossed over to Mr. Travers' side of the Cage. He did not want to give himself time to think about his task. Mr. Travers was sitting up on the camp bedstead with a light cotton sheet over his legs. He stared at nothing, and on approaching him d'Alcacer disregarded the slight sinking of his own heart at this aspect which seemed to be that of extreme terror. ”This is awful,” he thought. The man kept as still as a hare in its form.

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