Part 14 (1/2)

Just for a moment Bilboa renewed his intense scrutiny of the apprentice's face, then roared: ”By G.o.d! Abducted by a Rajah, whipped off to a tambu temple to be sacrificed at the altar of one by name Macka Koo Raja-and she's haunted!” The big man roared the foregoing so loudly that Hillary thought he would awaken the whole towns.h.i.+p! But still the sailorman yelled on: ”G.o.d d.a.m.n it, youngster, I've cuddled queens and princesses on a hundred heathen isles, but never has such a strange story come out of my wooing.” Then he added swiftly: ”Cheer up! I've had numerous abduction jobs both for and against: kings and queens have paid me in pearl and gold for such things, and never yet did I fail in finding a pretty maid's hiding-place or the weakness in a queen's virtue! I tell ye this-your Rajah Macka's done for! I'm his man.” Saying this, he gave Hillary a quizzical look and continued: ”You're sure the girl's not stealing a march on ye? She didn't run off on the abduction night in front of the Rajah, eh?” Before Hillary could give his emphatic a.s.surance in reply to this query the sailorman gave a huge grin and said: ”What's the dear old pa think of it all? Worried much? Got cash?”

Whereupon Hillary at once told Bilbao how old Everard had promised to give anything up to a thousand pounds to anyone who would go to New Guinea in search of the girl.

The effect was magical: Bilbao's face flushed with rapturous thoughts; he blew clouds of tobacco smoke from his lips and chuckled: ”I'm bound for New Guinea! Bound for a heathen, a Macka Rajah! Good old Macka-he's mine! He's destined to meet one by name Samuel Bilbao. I'll find him!

I'll claim the girl too!” he added, as he nudged Hillary in the ribs and winked. Following this sally, he gave the apprentice a tremendous thump on the back and said: ”Youngster, don't get down in the mug; come to Parsons's parlour in the morning and we'll see what's best to be done to secure the girl.”

Then he took the apprentice back into the grog bar and called for drinks. ”Git it down,” said he, as Hillary hesitated over the fiery liquor. And there for quite one hour the huge man told of his mighty deeds far and near, and multiplied his credentials, so that Hillary might not go off seeking someone else for the position which he, Ulysses, knew he was especially suited for.

Before Hillary departed for home Bilbao impressed upon him to be at the grog bar on the following morning.

Hillary could never remember how he got back to his lodgings that night.

All that he ever did know was that when he arrived in his small bedroom he imagined that Koo Macka lay helpless on the floor before his window.

Mango Pango, and two natives who slept just by, and the landlady rushed in in their night attire to see what was the matter, and found Hillary singing, ”O! O! for Rio Grande!” as he swayed a big war-club and smashed an imaginary Rajah Macka's head into pulp.

In the morning Hillary made a thousand apologies to his native landlady and to pretty Mango Pango. Mango Pango graciously accepted each apology, and grinned with delight to think that at last the young Englishman had taken to drink, and that fun was going to begin as the craving strengthened.

As soon as Mango Pango had given Hillary his clean s.h.i.+rt and breakfast he got ready and then once more left his diggings, bound for Parsons's grog bar. When he arrived the sh.e.l.lbacks were very numerous, for a schooner had just put into Bougainville, and the crews were standing treat.

Samuel Bilbao met the apprentice in his usual volcanic style.

”Where's yer fiddle, youngster,” said he, as though Hillary had come to perform violin solos.

”d.a.m.n it! Left it at yer lodgings?” Then he continued: ”Why, bless me, you ask me to help you find a Macka, and rescue a beautiful--” He stopped short, thinking it would not do to let the bystanders know everything, and continued: ”Go and fetch your fiddle, boy.”

Hillary felt little inclination to play a fiddle, but there was something about the personality of that man that told him that if he asked a favour he expected it granted.

He soon returned with his violin, and it was a sight worth seeing to watch Samuel Bilbao's face as Hillary obediently performed the songs that he asked him to play. And as Hillary played that strange man lifted and moved his hands in rhythmic style, half closed his big-lidded eyes, looking most sentimental, as he drank in the melody and huge sips of rum.

”Play that again! Bewtif-ool! You're a genius,” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as the sh.e.l.lbacks who stood round looked into one another's eyes in wonder to see a man who had confessed to such a past almost weep over an English song.

All was going merrily as a marriage bell in heathen-land when one by name Bill Bark appeared on the scene. He was a big gawk of a fellow, and lived mostly by cadging drinks. Going up to Hillary as he stood in the grog parlour playing his instrument, he deliberately knocked his bowing arm upwards.

”That's a silly joke,” said the apprentice quietly. Then, as the aggressor used several foul epithets, Hillary continued: ”You're an awful fool if you really think that your disgusting language is more attractive to these men standing here than my violin playing.”

At this gracious compliment, paid to the listening sh.e.l.lbacks, traders and the three pretty native girls, the rough audience blushed. It really _was_ said so politely, so courteously, and reflected such credit on their musical taste that one or two of them took a huge sip from their gla.s.ses and bowed to Hillary.

Bill Bark felt extremely wild at the laughter that followed that invisible blush, and then once more knocked Hillary's bow-arm up, just as he had begun to play again.

”Why not be pleasant, friendly like?-though you're not much of a catch, even to look at,” said Hillary in quiet tones as he stopped playing once more.

”'Ain't 'e soft-o!” said Bill Bark, _sotto voce_, to three boiled-looking sailormen who sat on tubs itching to see a fight.

As for Ulysses, who was watching the whole proceeding quietly, his face was a study. He had not travelled the South Seas for nothing; he saw further ahead than all the brains of Bougainville put together. He was peering steadfastly into Hillary's eyes. He seemed to be quite satisfied with what he found there, for he gave a tremendous guffaw, smacked his big knee and chuckled inwardly. He knew! Old Samuel Bilbao knew; ”Knock the a.s.s's bow arm up again, Bill Bark! How dare he think your oaths are worse than his d.a.m.ned fiddling!”

Hillary noted the deep undertone of Ulysses's voice as he roared forth that demand to the loafer, and the apprentice felt gratified to hear the subtle note, for it told him that Ulysses, at least, knew that true pluck is always humble.

To Samuel Bilbao's immense delight, the loafer, Bill Bark, once more knocked Hillary's bow arm up again.