Part 15 (1/2)
Hillary almost cursed that sudden recognition as the two men rambled on, and Bilbao shook his fist, bent himself double with glee and took monstrous nips of rum and whisky as he discussed everything, of the past and future, but the vital matter in hand.
But it turned out a good thing, for before the night grew old the big sailor had lifted his hand to the roof and in a thunderous voice had called all the tropic stars to witness that he would find Gabrielle and scatter Rajah Koo Macka's dust to the four winds of heaven. He swore to Everard and Hillary that he knew Macka (whether he really did know him at that time was something that was never known for a certainty).
”I know him, the old heathen kidnapper!” he roared, as Hillary and old Everard stared at the ma.s.sive face with its vikingesque moustache stuck out like spears from the corner of his grim mouth. ”Seen 'im off Tai-o-hae five years ago, when he abducted two princesses-twins-from O le Mopiu's royal seraglio!”
It was marvellous the change of atmosphere Bilbao made in Gabrielle's old home, as he thought over his plans, consulted his chart, ran his finger down the degrees and murmured: ”Easy as winking!” Indeed, he made everything look so rosy that instead of Gabrielle's abduction being a tragedy it appeared a blessing in disguise.
And it can be truthfully recorded that though Samuel Bilbao held the advance of two hundred pounds in gold and notes in his mighty palm, and said that he didn't like taking money from an old pal, he really _meant_ what he said. All the same, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he felt a ma.s.s of gold coins and notes safe in his capacious pocket. But it must again be admitted, in all fairness to Bilbao, that he could not go off and hire a schooner for a voyage to the coast of New Guinea to search for Gabrielle without some cash in hand.
After that little business matter was settled to the satisfaction of both parties, Bilbao looked at the old man and said: ”Ah, pal Everard, she was a beautiful maid, well worth the money, this Gabrielle of yours.” Then he continued: ”I had great pleasure in meeting the girl, and introduced myself to her as she sat swinging on a bough in the forest not far from here: and didn't she sing to me! Lord! I think the girl fell madly in love with my handsome face. I little dreamed that I was being pa.s.sionately wooed by my old s.h.i.+pmate's daughter.”
Everard at hearing this large contortion of the truth only looked absently at the big man and said nothing. Then Ulysses said in a soft, sympathetic voice: ”Ah, pal Everard, I can easily imagine how ye loved the gal, soothed her pretty face and made her love ye-eh, pal?”
”I did! I did!” wailed the distracted old man, his wretched heart quaking as he looked for a moment into Bilbao's keen blue eyes and dropped his own in shame.
Hillary, who had told Ulysses a good deal about Gabrielle's home life while he was under the influence of about four whiskies that Ulysses pressed upon him, gave his comrade a hasty pinch in the leg as he wondered what Bilbao might say next.
Ulysses only replied by a ponderous wink, right in front of Everard's eyes too! But the ex-sailor was too far gone to notice that. It took a good deal of persuasion to stop him from going on the voyage to New Guinea himself, if they were successful in hiring a schooner. ”You'd better stay at home; the poor girl may return while we're away at sea, and what would she say at missing her dear old father,” said Bilbao sympathetically.
The big man looked at the apprentice and gave another wink, and said: ”We don't want no old pa with us, eh?”
Hillary responded by a vacant look; then, seeing Ulysses's broad, friendly smile, lifted his hand and smacked the giant on the back uproariously. Alas! even the apprentice was under the influence of drink.
Gabrielle's father sat huddled in his arm-chair; his wooden leg s.h.i.+vered pathetically as he mumbled: ”So she's on the _Bird of Paradise_, my daughter, my Gabby.”
As for Ulysses, when he heard the name of the s.h.i.+p he smacked his mighty knees and roared out: ”Ho! ho! for a bottle of rum! The _Bird of Paradise_!” The adventurous sailorman had made all possible inquiries about the aforesaid vessel when it sailed from the straits, etc., and had calculated to a nicety when it would arrive in New Guinea. ”There's no time to lose, by heaven!” he thundered, as he swallowed his ninth whisky and looked at the parlour clock. Then he shook Hillary, woke him up with a start and said: ”Come on, lad, let's put the old man to bed; he's tired; it's the least we can do for him.”
Before Everard fell to the floor they both lifted him and placed him comfortably on his settee. Drunk as the prematurely aged ex-sailor was, he looked like some bedraggled apostle as he lay there on his couch, his hands crossed, a smile on his lips, as though he still laughed to himself over Ulysses' wild jokes.
Then they both left the bungalow. If Hillary staggered slightly as he gripped Bilbao's arm, and thought that the coco-palms were doing a hushed step-dance on the moon-lit slopes of Bougainville, it must be taken into account that he had to be sociable. He could not very well stand like a mute as those reunited s.h.i.+pmates drank to the sprees of other days and finished up in wild farewells and sanguine toasts to the success of the venture they were engaged upon. As the apprentice softly closed the front door of the bungalow Bilboa said, ”Wait a tick,” and hurriedly returning into the parlour he picked up the whisky bottle and swallowed the remaining contents. He excused himself before Hillary by saying: ”Ah! youngster, I had to drink once again to the success of our venture and to the pretty eyes of that girl; we'll find her, don't you fear.”
”I know we will,” replied the apprentice, as he clutched the big man's arm.
As they stole along under the palms Bilbao's heart fairly bubbled with mirth as he realised the possibilities of this new adventure. It would take him out on the seas again! It was evident that his present quiet life was palling upon him. No one knew why he was hiding from the arm of the law in Bougainville, and no one cared. All that can positively be stated here is that his heart was bursting to escape from the rough settlement where Germans drank lager and beach combers slept between their drinks. Such happiness was too much for him.
”Splendid!” he reiterated, as he brought his open hand down on Hillary's back. But Hillary cared not; his heart sang within him like a bird: whisky and his comrade's mighty belief in the success of all that they might undertake had made him entirely careless of the moment. ”Go it, boy!” said Ulysses to the young apprentice, rattling the money in his capacious pocket, and Hillary joined l.u.s.tily in the rollicking chorus of some Spanish chantey.
When they eventually arrived outside Hillary's lodgings Samuel Bilbao swore that _he_ lived there. And Hillary? Well, he was so confused that he obsequiously followed Ulysses in at that worthy's kind invitation.
And Mango Pango lay on her little bed-mat in the outhouse and could not believe her ears that night, as she mumbled to herself: ”Surely not nicer Hill-eary shouting wilder song in ze middle night, up dere in his bedrooms?” And then the astounded Mango Pango heard no more, for Ulysses was comfortably fast asleep in Hillary's bed-while the apprentice slept on the floor.
In the morning Hillary's landlady fairly gasped to see so big and so handsome a man in her quiet young lodger's company. And as for pretty Mango Pango, she opened her eyes and stared at Ulysses as though G.o.d sat there in front of her. And when Ulysses swallowed a quart of boiling tea and then sat her on his ma.s.sive lap, her eyes shone like diamonds.
Though Hillary's head felt a bit heavy after the preceding night's libations he could not help smiling as Samuel Bilbao kissed the Polynesian maid's dusky ear and whispered pretty things to her. And was Mango Pango abashed? Not in the least. It was very evident that Samuel Bilbao was smitten with that dusky maid's charms.
But all these recorded things are small enough compared with the great venture that they were entering upon. Even Ulysses realised that time was valuable and that many difficulties might beset their path before they could hire a schooner and keep their promise to Everard. And more, the young apprentice quickly gave Bilbao a hint that they'd better be off, and that Mango Pango's charms could wait till a later date.
That same day Ulysses went down to the beach and tried to get round all the schooners' skippers off Bougainville. But it turned out that none was willing to accept the fee Bilbao offered for the hire of a schooner, or to take him as pa.s.senger to the coast of New Guinea.
Just as Hillary and his comrade were getting dubious about their chances they heard that a schooner, the _Sea Foam_, was about to sail for New Britain and then on to Dutch New Guinea. In a moment Bilbao had hired a boat and was rowed out to the _Sea Foam_, which lay a quarter of a mile off, by the barrier reefs. Bilbao at once went aboard and interviewed the skipper, and found that he was a mean man and wanted more money than Ulysses possessed to alter his course or take Ulysses for a pa.s.sage at all.
When Bilbao returned to Parsons's grog bar, where he had arranged to meet Hillary, he looked worried. It was evident to the young apprentice that he had entered heart and soul into the whole business. The fact was that he was anxious to clear out of Bougainville, and so the scheme in hand offered him all that he wanted: money, a change, and the forlorn hope and excitement that were meat and drink to his volcanic temperament.
”Don't despair, boy,” said he to Hillary, ”Bilbao never caved in yet while the world went round the sun.” Then they both went back to Hillary's lodgings. Ulysses seemed deep in thought as they pa.s.sed under the palms. Then he said to Hillary: ”The chief mate of that _Sea Foam_ is an old pal of mine.”