Part 2 (1/2)
It was not a cheerful pa.s.sage, this from island to island. Even Ray had been caught in the general gloom. We had time, each severally, during these two days, to come, by reflection, to a realization of the apparent hopelessness of our task. Beyond the almost haphazard selection of this one large port as our first point of contact, we had no plan. While the query,--what next? was uppermost in the minds of each, he dreaded to hear another--every other--confess that he did not know. For of necessity he _could_ not know. And so, when we moved in, in that late afternoon, seeking a suitable anchorage, every eye--independently--sought out every sail within view, only half daring to hope for a sight of a vessel that should appear to be the _Josephine_.
When everything had been made snug above deck, and the harbor officials had made their visit, dusk was on. No move could be made until morning.
And then came supper. All lingered at the table, knowing that the time had come for a council of war. It was Norris who volunteered to open the ball.
”Well comrades,” he began, seeking to be cheerful, ”I suppose we'll now have to decide on a fresh start. How are we going to find out if the _Josephine_ is here?”
”Well,” said Captain Marat, ”If she have not change her name, that will be easy.”
Captain Marat had hit on the thing that was troubling us all. The man Mordaunt, we knew, had at one time changed the name of his vessel to honor her whom he had hoped to make his wife, and now he might have two reasons for making another change in name: He had been disappointed in his hope, and there was the criminal reason--for concealment. None had taken any note of the schooner, and Monsieur Cambon's description of the vessel made a picture that answered for almost any schooner yacht of dimensions a little greater than the _Pearl_.
It was also unfortunate that none of us had set eyes on this man Mordaunt. But Monsieur Cambon had been able to give us one characteristic of the man that might go far toward identifying him, should we be fortunate enough to encounter him under favorable conditions. Cambon described him as of medium though strong build; of finely chiseled, rather handsome features; black eyes, black hair, which he wore a little long and which was disposed to curl. His manners Cambon described as studiously polished, if self-a.s.sertive. But the single characteristic that interested me most was a certain mannerism.
”Sometimes,” M. Cambon had said, ”when he is unconscious of his surroundings, deeply cogitating on something, he will take the lobe of his ear between thumb and finger, pulling or stroking--like when others scratch the head when they are puzzled.”
It took us but a short time to determine on a course. Some were to go in a small boat among the many s.h.i.+ps of the harbor, while others should visit the city. We spent an hour on deck, breathing the balmy air, and watching the many lights of the s.h.i.+ps and the city. There, too, was the revolving red light on Point Lomentin, and the green light, set in by the city.
We were early astir, all eager to be doing. Ray and Julian went with Grant Norris to sail about the harbor, to seek news of the _Josephine_; Robert and myself, with Captain Marat, rowed to a wharf of the city. It was verily a city of blacks. Mulattoes were few, and we walked up and down numerous streets before we found a white man whose appearance encouraged us. He was a Frenchman, seated before an apothecary shop. The smile on his thin smooth-shaven face invited us to stop. He and Captain Marat were directly in conversation, in the tongue they knew best.
The Frenchman gave us his name--Jules Sevier--and had us into his shop, with its many bottles of patent medicines, in rows. He and Marat sipped French wine while they continued their talk. At last the apothecary turned to Robert and myself.
”Ah,” he said, ”I am 'fraid you have one ver' deeficult task. But I am glad you fin' your way to me. I will help you all I can.”
It developed that he knew nothing of either the schooner _Josephine_ or M. Mordaunt, or anyone to fit the description Marat was able to give him. But after listening to the recital of the circ.u.mstances (set about the disappearance of little Marie Cambon) he said,--”Oui, oui! it was thad man. Such things like thad have happen more times than the world think. You have come to the right place.”
Jules Sevier at the last told us that he would make some private inquiries, and advised that we come back on the following day to learn the results.
We were soon in our boat, somewhat cheered by the bit of encouragement we'd got, alloyed as it was.
”I think it's a good sign,” declared Robert, ”that we went so straight to that man. He can help us if anybody can.”
Robert was something of a fatalist you see.
”Yes, he know ver' much about the voodoo,” said Jean Marat.
We boarded the _Pearl_, to wait several hours before the others showed up. When they drew near we could see that they had been unsuccessful.
They had found no schooner of the name sought, nor any with a newly painted name.
”Of course,” said Norris, ”she might be lying hid behind some small island, or point, miles away, and it will take anyway a week to find out.”
CHAPTER IV
WE PICK UP THE TRAIL
In the morning all but Rufe went to sh.o.r.e. Rufe would have none of it.
”Say,” he said, when Ray offered to remain aboard in his place, ”say, you-all, you ain't guine git dis n.i.g.g.ah in dat town to be voodooed by dem heathen n.i.g.g.ahs. Hum-n! An' I ain't got no rabbit-fut, nor nuthing.”