Part 24 (1/2)
His gla.s.ses were always in his pocket, and, remembering them now for the first time, he clapped them to his eyes. The sloop and her tracery of mast and spars became distinct. He saw guns on the deck and men, men in uniform, and he could see well enough, a moment or two later, to tell that they wore the uniform of Britain. His heart gave a wild throb. The spirits in the air were good spirits, and the storm had never been able to drive them away. They had been calling to him when he thought they were silent, only he had not been able to hear them.
He gave a wild shout of joy that could be heard above the crash of the storm. Triumph was a.s.sured. He was rescuing, and he would be rescued. He did not realize until that instant how eager he was to be taken from the island, how he longed, with all his soul, to rejoin his own kind, to see his friends again and to take a part in the great events that were shaking the world. He uttered his wild shout over and over, and, in between, he laughed, laughed with a joy that he could not control.
The sloop entered the opening. It seemed to him that the rocks, those fearful sharks' teeth, almost grazed her on either side, and his heart stood still, but she went safely past them, drew into the little harbor where she was safe from the wildest storm that ever blew, dropped anchor, and was at rest.
Robert in his exultation had never permitted his fire to die down an inch. Rather he had made it grow higher and higher until it was a vast core of light, throwing a red glare over the beach and the adjacent waves, and sending off vast showers of sparks. But when the s.h.i.+p cast anchor in her port he stood still before it, a dark figure, a perfect silhouette outlined against a blazing background, and watched, while a boat was launched from the sloop.
He saw five figures descend into the boat. Four were sailors and one an officer in uniform, and he knew well that they were coming to see him, the human being by the fire who had saved them. Pride was mingled with his joy. If he had not been there the sloop and probably all on board of her would have perished. It was touch and go, only a brief opportunity to save had been allowed him, but he had used it. So he raised himself to his full height, straightened his clothes, for which he always had respect despite the storm, and waited on. He had a full sense of drama, and he felt that this was one of the most dramatic moments of his life.
The boat came up the beach on a wave, the men sprang out, held it as the wave retreated, and then dragged it after them until it was beyond the reach of invading water. Robert meanwhile never stirred, and the great fire behind him enlarged his figure to heroic proportions.
The officer, young, handsome, in the British naval uniform, walked forward, with the four sailors following in a close group behind, but he stopped again, and looked at the strange figure before him. Evidently something in its pose, in its whole appearance, in truth, made an extraordinary impression upon him. He pa.s.sed his hands before his eyes as if to make sure that it was no blur of the vision, and then he went forward again, the sailors keeping close behind, as if they were in fear lest the figure prove to be supernatural.
”Who are you?” called the young officer.
”Robert Lennox, of Albany, the Province of New York, and the wilderness,” replied Robert. ”Welcome to my island.”
His sense of drama was still strong upon him, and he replied in his fullest and clearest voice. The officer stared, and then said:
”You've saved the s.h.i.+p and all our lives.”
”I think that's what I was here for, though it's likely that you've saved me, too. What s.h.i.+p it that?”
”His Majesty's sloop of war, _Hawk_, Captain Stuart Whyte, from Bridgetown in the Barbadoes, for Boston.”
Robert thrilled when he heard the word ”Boston.” It was not New York, but it was a port for home, nevertheless.
”Who are you?” continued the officer, on fire with curiosity. ”You've told me your name, but what are you? and where are the other people of the island?”
”There are no other people. It's my island. I'm sole lord of the isle, and you're most welcome.”
”You heard our signal guns?”
”Aye, I heard 'em, but I knew before you fired a shot that you were coming.”
”'Tis impossible!”
”It's not! I knew it, though I can't explain how to you. Behold my bonfire! Do you think I could have built such a pyramid of wood between the firing of your first shot and your coming into my harbor? No, I was ready and waiting for you.”
”That's convincing.”
”I repeat that I welcome you to Lennox Island. My house is but a short distance inland in a beautiful forest. I should like to receive Captain Whyte there as an honored guest, and you, too.”
”Your house?”
”Aye, my house. And it's well built and well furnished. You'd be surprised to know how much comfort it can offer.”
The officer--a lieutenant--and the men, coming closer, inspected Robert with the most minute curiosity. Lone men on desert islands were likely to go insane, and it was a momentary thought of the officer that he was dealing with some such unhappy creature, but Robert's sentences were too crisp, and his figure too erect and trim for the thought to endure more than a few seconds.