Marjorie Read online

  CHAPTER XIX

  HOW SOME OF US GOT TO THE ISLAND

  But between our need for watchfulness and the drunkenness of many of thecrew the time slipped away without our doing as much as we should havedone under happier conditions. Thanks to the confusion that theirwantonness had caused, we did but make three trips in all to the islandin that day, in which three trips we managed to send over about fiftypersons, with some twenty barrels of bread and a few casks of water. Hadwe been wiser we should have sent more water, for we could not tell howdistressed we might become for want of it on the shore if we did notfind any spring of fair water on the island. However, I am recordingwhat we did, and not what we ought to have done, and I can assure myfriends that if ever they find themselves in such straits as we were inthat night and day they will have reason to be thankful if they manageto keep all their wits about them, and to conduct their affairs withthe same wisdom that they, as I make no doubt, display in less pressinghours. For myself, my wits were still wool-gathering, still werestriving to remember something which for the life of me I could notmanage to remember.

  It was well-nigh evening, and twilight was making the distant landindistinct, when Hatchett came back from the last of those three voyageswith very unpleasant tidings--that it was no use for us to send over anymore provisions to the island, as those who had been disembarked therewere only wasting that which they had already received. Indeed, Hatchettpainted a gloomy picture of the conduct of those colonists who were nowon shore, declaring that they had cast all discipline and decorum to thewinds, and that they needed stern treatment if they were to be preventedfrom breaking out into open mutiny.

  There were, of course, a great variety of folk among our colonists, andmany of them were weak and foolish creatures enough, as there alwayswill be weak and foolish creatures in any community of human beingsuntil the human race grows into perfection, as some philosophersmaintain that it will. Now, it certainly was precisely this element inour little society that had been shipped off to the island, for, withthe women and children, it was the men who were most womanlike in theirnoise, or most childlike in their fears, whose safety we had firstensured. From what our Captain knew of these people, well-meaning enoughunder ordinary conditions, but timorous and foolish under conditionssuch as we now were in, he guessed that disorganisation and disturbancemight be likely enough. Therefore he resolved, and his resolve wasapproved both by Hatchett and by Jensen, that he would go over himselfto the island and restore order among the malcontents.

  Now I will confess that when I heard of this my heart sank, for I tookit for granted that Marjorie would go with Captain Marmaduke, and indeedit seemed only right that she should go rather than remain upon theRoyal Christopher with only a parcel of rough men aboard her, and thoserough men sorely divided in purpose, and each division mistrustful ofthe other. All through those long hours of shipwreck sorrow my spiritshad been cheered by the sight of her beauty and the example of her calm.She weathered the calamity with the bravest temper; never cast down,never assuming a false elation, but bearing herself in all just as atrue man would like the woman he loved to bear herself in stress andperil. I have read of a maid in France ages back who raised armies todrive my ancestors out of her fatherland and I think that maid must havelooked as my maid did and had the same blessed grace to inspire courageand love and service.

  So when I thought that Marjorie was about to quit the ship I felt such asudden wrench at my heart as made me feel sick and dizzy, like a manabout to faint. The water came into my eyes with the saltness of thesea, and words without meaning--words of pain, and grief, andlonging--seemed to seek a form at my lips and then to perish without abreath. But at last, with an effort, I shook myself free of my stupor. Imight never see her again, I told myself; this might be our latestparting, there on that wretched deck, in that crowd of faces paintedwith fear and fury, with the sullen sea about us which would so soondivide us. Come what might come of it, I swore that I would say my sayand not carry the regret of a fool's silence to my grave. For though myheart seemed to beat like the drums of a dozen garrisons, I made my wayacross the slippery deck to where the girl stood, for the moment alone,with the wind flapping her hair about and blowing her gown against her.She was looking out at the island when I came close, and there was somuch noise aboard and beyond that she did not hear my coming till Istood beside her, and called her name into her ear. Then she turned herpale face to me, and small blame to her to look pale in those terrors;but her eyes had all their brightness, and there was no sign of fear inthem or on her lips. I thought her more beautiful than ever as she stoodthere, so calm in all that savage scene of ruin, so brave at a time whenstout men shook with fear.

  'Marjorie,' I said, 'I want to tell you something. I hope in God's mercythat we may meet again, but God alone knows if we ever shall. And so Iwant to tell you that, whatever happens to me, sick or well, in dangeror out of it, I am your servant, and that your name will be in my heartto the end.'

  She had heard me in quiet, but there was a wonder in her face as shelistened to the words I stumbled over. In fear to be misunderstood, Ispoke again in an agony.

  'Marjorie,' I said, 'dear Marjorie, I should never have dared to tellyou but for this hour. But I may never see you again, and I love you.'

  And then I lost command of myself and my words, and begged herincoherently to forgive me, and to think kind thoughts of me if thiswere indeed farewell. She was silent for a moment, and there came nochange over her face. Then she said softly:

  'Why do you tell me this now? Is there some new danger?'

  I stared at her in wonder.

  'Marjorie,' I cried, 'Marjorie, are you not going to leave the ship?'She shook her head.

  'I stay with Lancelot,' she answered quietly. 'It is an old promisebetween us. Where he is I abide. That is our compact.'

  I cannot find any words for the fulness of joy that flooded my heart asMarjorie spoke. I would still be near her; the ruined ship remain asacred dwelling. But in my error I had blundered, overbold, and I triedto explain confusedly.

  'Marjorie,' I said, 'I thought you were going and I dared to tell youthe truth. It is the truth indeed, but I should not have told it.'

  She held out her hand to me with a kind smile as I clasped it.

  'We are good friends,' she said. 'You and I and Lancelot. Let usremember nothing but that, that we are good friends, we three. I alwaysthink well of you; always deserve that I shall think well of you. Bealways brave and good and God bless you!'

  She let go my hand as she spoke and I turned away and left her, stirredby a thousand joys and fears and wonders.

  By this time Captain Amber had made all his preparations, albeit with nosmall reluctance, to quit the ship. He picked out some ten of his menfrom those that had served him of old and that were now equipped as menof war. Then he formally entrusted to Lancelot the ship and the lives ofall aboard her. Marjorie, who now came to him, he kissed very tenderly,making no attempt to urge her to accompany him. He knew the two so welland their love and loyalty each to the other. Then he took me by thehand and bade me serve Lancelot as I would serve him, which I faithfullyand gladly promised to do, and so he went over the side into the skiff,with his men and Hatchett, and the sailors that were handling the skiff,and made his way towards the island.

  It was now that a thing came to pass which relieved my mind of a careonly to increase our anxieties. When the skiff was a little way from theship my Captain, looking back to where we lay, drew from his pocket hiskerchief, which was a big and brightly-coloured kerchief, such as menlove who follow the sea, and waved it in our direction as a signal offarewell, and, no doubt, of encouragement. Now, I cannot quite tell thetrain of thought which the sight of that action aroused in my mind, butI think that it was something after this fashion. The waving of thatkerchief reminded me of the waving of a flag, and the moment that theword flag came into my mind I suddenly remembered what it was that I hadbeen trying to remember through all those weary hours. As in a mirror Isaw
again the interior of Jensen's cabin and the beautiful face ofBarbara, smiling as she stooped over her hideous standard. I saw againthat vile black flag, and as the picture painted itself upon my brainthe consciousness of our peril came upon me in all its strength.

  Without a doubt, the first thing to do was to tell Lancelot what I knew.It was too late now to tell the Captain. Even if he were not too far tosee and understand such signals as we might make to him to return, itwould not do to let Jensen and the rest of the crew know that we hadfathomed their treachery. So I argued the matter to myself. It wascertain that Jensen had no notion that I was any sharer in his darksecret, for though I could read in his face his dislike, I could seethere no distrust of us. The first thing to be done was to break the badnews to Lancelot.

  I drew Lancelot aside and told him what I had seen. At first he wasamazed and incredulous; amazed because I had not warned Captain Amberbefore, and incredulous because, when I explained my forgetfulnessthrough my fall and the hurt to my head, he would needs have it that Iimagined the whole matter. But I was so confident in my tale that Ishook his disbelief--at least, so far that he declared himself willingto take all possible precautions.

  As matters stood we seemed to be in the better case. We hadwell-trained, well-armed men on our side; we had the supply of arms andammunition in our care and under our guard; if the sailors were morenumerous than we, they were practically unarmed. It was clear to bothLancelot and myself that the shipwreck, which had seemed so great amisfortune, was really the means of averting a more terrible calamity.We could not doubt that the intention of Jensen and his accomplices hadbeen to seize the ship suddenly, taking us unawares when we were asleep,cutting most of our throats, very likely, and, after seizing upon thesupply of arms, overawing such of the colonists and others as should beunwilling to convert the noble Royal Christopher into a pirate ship.