For an instant she stood aghast at the revelation which had come to her. She was in love with Courtenay. She was ready to die by his side, fearless and joyous, if only he would put his arms around her and tell her that she was dear to him. Ah, the fierce delight of that first silent surrender! Her heart beat as it had never pulsed before, even under the stress of the storm or the sudden terror of the night attack. Her eyes shone, and her breath came laboriously between parted lips. Golden dreams coursed through her brain. She was thrilled with an unutterable longing.

Then her swimming eyes rested on a group of men standing on the poop. Among them was Christobal, interested, like the rest, in the floating of the mine. And forthwith Elsie fell from the clouds, and was brought back, shuddering, to cold reason again. She was sick at heart; she hated herself for her self-abasement. She must gird her with sackcloth and mourn; and the fight must be fought now, without parley or hesitation, unless the sweetness were to go forth from life for ever, and all things should turn to ashes in her mouth.

So, marshaling the best qualities of her womanhood, she quelled the turmoil in her breast, forced herself to join the men on the after deck, and said, when the smiling Spaniard turned to receive her:

"Why am I denied the mild excitement of mine-laying, Dr. Christobal? Is it that you dread the effect on my nerves of these murderous preparations?"

"No," he answered, making room for her at the railing by his side. "I had missed you, of course, but I thought you were resting."

"Resting, indeed! I have been quite busy. Where do they mean to put the second contrivance?"

"About there," he said, indicating a point on the surface of the bay eastward of the canoe. His right arm was extended, and he placed his left hand on her shoulder. Courtenay, hailing Walker, saw the two leaning over the rails in that attitude. Perhaps one of the two hoped that Courtenay would see them. Elsie, as part of her punishment, did not shrink away, though the touch of Christobal's hand made her flesh creep. But Joey, whose mind was singularly free from complexities, leaped up at her. He wanted Elsie to tell him what Courtenay was doing out there, so far away from the ship. She stooped and picked him up. Christobal had no excuse for a second caress.

"Bark, Joey," she whispered, "bark and call your master. If anything happens to him, you and I shall never see England again. And I am longing for home to-day."



CHAPTER XIII

THE FIGHT

Christmas Day arrived, and maintained its kindly repute by finding affairs on board the Kansas changed for the better. Mr. Boyle was so far recovered that he could walk; he even took command of two watches in the twenty-four hours, but was forbidden to exert himself, lest the wound in his back should reopen. Several injured sailors and firemen were convalescent; the two most serious cases were out of danger; Frascuelo, hardy as a weed, dared the risk of using his damaged leg, and survived, though his progress along the deck was painful. Nevertheless, on Christmas morning he presented himself before the captain, and asked leave to abandon his present quarters. He felt lonely in the forecastle, and wished to berth with the other Chileans in the neighborhood of the saloon. Although his luck was bad in some respects, the coal-trimmer was endowed with the nine lives of a cat, for there could be no manner of doubt that he dragged himself aft just in time to avoid being killed.

Yet, never was day less ominous in appearance. The breezy, sunlit morning brought no hint of coming tragedy. The fine weather which had prevailed since the Kansas drifted into the estuary seemed to become more settled as the month wore. Suarez said it was unprecedented. Not only had he not witnessed in five years three consecutive days without rain, snow, or hail, but the Indians had a proverb: "Who so-ever sees fire-in-the-sky (the sun) for seven days shall see the leaf red a hundred times." In effect, centenarians were needed to bear testimony to a week's fine weather; whereas no man—most certainly no woman—among the Alaculofs ever succeeded in reaching the threescore years and ten regarded by the psalmist as the span of life.

But the miner from Argentina never wavered in his belief that the Indians would soon muster every adult for an assault on the ship. The elements might waver, but not the hate of the savage. From the rising of the sun to the going down thereof Suarez was ever on the alert. He ate his meals with his eyes fixed on the low point of land which hid Otter Creek. He saw thin columns of smoke rising when no other eye on board could discern them. Once he made out the forms of a number of women searching for shellfish on some distant rocks at low water, and on Christmas morning he reported the presence of three canoes among the trees near Otter Creek, when Courtenay could scarce be sure of their character after scrutinizing them through his glasses.

Every other person on the ship held the opinion that the Alaculofs would attack by night, if they were not afraid to attempt the enterprise at all. So Suarez slept soundly, while his companions were on the qui vive for a call to repel boarders. Were it not for the strain induced by the silent menace of their savage neighbors, the small company suffered no ill from their prolonged stay in this peaceful anchorage. There was work in plenty for all hands. Walker was re-enforced by a trio of firemen, whose technical knowledge, slight as it was, proved useful when he began to fit and connect the disabled machinery. For the rest, the promenade deck was walled with strong canvas, while Courtenay and Tollemache gave undivided attention to the fashioning of several other floating bombs which could be exploded from the ship. They also provided flexible steam-pipes in places where a rush might be made if the Indians once secured a footing on the deck, fore or aft. Steam was kept up constantly in the donkey-boiler, not alone for the electric light and the daily working of the pumps—as the Kansas had not blundered over the shoal without straining some of her plates—but for use against the naked bodies of their possible assailants.

When day followed day without any sign of hostility, not a man on board, save Suarez and Tollemache, paid much real heed to the shoreward peril. Walker, with his hammers and cold chisels, his screw-jacks and wrenches, was the center of interest. And Walker's swarthy visage wore a permanent grin, which presaged well for the fulfilment of his promise. Elsie devoted herself to the hospital. She was thus brought more in contact with Christobal than with any of the others. Nor did he make this close acquaintance irksome to her. Always suave and charming in manner, he exerted himself to be entertaining. Though she knew full well that if the Kansas reached the open sea again he would ask her to marry him, he was evidently content to deny himself the privileges of courtship until a proper time and season.

She was far too wise to appear to avoid Courtenay. Indeed, she was studiously agreeable to him when they met. She adopted the safe role of good-fellowship, flattering herself that her own folly would shrink to nothingness under the hourly castigation thus inflicted. During this period, Mr. Boyle's changeable characteristics puzzled and amused her. As he grew stronger, and took part in the active life of the ship, so did his sudden excess of talkativeness disappear. Once she happened to overhear his remarks to a couple of Chileans who were told to swab off the decks. Obviously, they had scamped their work, and Boyle expostulated. Then she grasped the essential element in Boyle's composition. He was capable only of a single idea. When he was chief officer he ceased to be an ordinary man; the corollary was, of course, that he ceased to use ordinary language.

She was in her cabin, and dared not come out while the tornado raged. She did not know that Tollemache was listening, too, until she heard him ask:

"Did you ever meet any fellow who could swear harder than you, Boyle?"

"Yes, once," was the curt answer.

"He must have been a rotter. What did he say?"

"Huh! just the regulation patter, but he used a megaphone, so I gave him best. . . ."

But, so far as Elsie was concerned, Boyle's fund of reminiscence had dried up.

After the midday meal on Christmas day—a sumptuous repast, for the due preparation of which Elsie had come to the Chilean cook's assistance in the matter of the plum-pudding—Suarez suddenly reported that a new column of smoke was rising from Guanaco Hill, a crag dominating the eastern side of the bay. The hill owed its name, he explained, to a large cave, in which a legendary herd of llama was said to have its abode. Probably there had never been any llama on the island, but the Indians were frightened of the cave, with its galloping ghosts, and would not enter it. He was unable to attribute any special significance to the signal on that particular place. During the five years with the Alaculof tribe he had never seen a fire lit there before. That, in itself, was a fact sinister and alarming.

Suarez had sufficient tact not to make this statement publicly. He told Christobal, and the doctor passed on the information to the captain. Both men went to the poop with their glasses, and carefully examined the coast line.

Courtenay was the first to break an oppressive silence, and his low pitched voice announced stirring tidings.

"Do you see those canoes yonder?" he said.

"There were three under the trees before Suarez discovered the smoke on Guanaco. Now I fancy I can make out nearly a dozen. Though they are not launched, they have been put there for some purpose. Would you mind going forrard and asking Mr. Boyle to summon all hands on deck? He knows exactly what to do. Remember that I regard you and Miss Maxwell as non-combatants, and expect you both to remain in the saloon. If these painted devils really mean to attack, some of us will get hurt, and then your services will be of greater value than in the fighting line. And, if I do not see Miss Maxwell before the trouble begins, please tell her she need fear no alarm. We shall be able to beat off our assailants with comparative ease."

When the captain of the Kansas spoke like that there was no gainsaying him. Even Christobal, whose jealous suspicions were ever ready to burst into flame, was roused to enthusiasm by his cool gallantry.

But, ere the Spaniard turned to go, a disturbing thought forced its way to his lips.

"We have every confidence in you," he said, "and I admit that it should be a simple matter to prevent the savages from gaining the upper hand. Yet, accidents happen. Suppose they manage to rush your defense?"

"They will not do that while I and every other man on deck are alive. If the worst comes to the worst, you have a revolver—"

"Yes," said Christobal.

"It will suffice for two, but not for a hundred." The two men, united by the very bond which threatened to bring them into antagonism, looked into each other's eyes.

"Is that your last word?" asked Christobal.

"It is."

"I feel sure that you are right. Good-by!"

They shook hands. They were nearer a real friendship then than either of them thought possible, and the bond which held them was love for the same woman.

Courtenay, using his glasses again, saw that a number of Indians were launching the canoes simultaneously. He counted nine small craft, each holding five or six men, or men and women—at the distance, nearly three miles, he could not be certain whether or not they all wore the distinguishing head-dress of feathers. Against wind and current they could not possibly reach the ship under half an hour, and the smallness of the fleet surprised him.

He stooped and patted Joey, who was at peace with the world after a good dinner.

"We are in luck's way, pup," he said. "These rascals might get the better of us by sheer force of numbers, but there are not fifty of them, all told. Poor devils! They are coming to the slaughter!"

The news that the Indians were advancing ran through the ship like wildfire. Including Mr. Boyle, Frascuelo, and those among the Chileans whose wounds were not serious, there were fourteen men available for the defense. Unfortunately, the supply of firearms was inadequate. A shot-gun and five revolvers constituted the armory, and one of the pistols was in Christobal's pocket. The supply of ammunition was so small that the revolvers could not be reloaded more than three times; but Courtenay had two hundred shot cartridges, and, against naked men, an ounce of shot is far more effective than a bullet.

The captain hoped to terrify the Indians before they attempted to scale the ship's sides. If various ruses failed, and the attack was pressed, he had decided not to split up his small force in the effort to repel boarders. A scattered resistance would surely break down at one point or another: there would be a rush of savages along the decks, a panic among the Chileans, and all would be ended. On the other hand, when fighting collectively under European leadership, and well aware that the Indians would kill and spare not, the half-breeds might be trusted to acquit themselves like men.

The canvas awning constituted a flimsy citadel in the center of the vessel. Six men were stationed on the starboard side of the promenade deck, and six on the port side. Tollemache and a Chilean, who said he could shoot well, were told to frustrate any attempt to climb the after part of the ship, while Courtenay, with his fowling-piece, would have the lion's share of this work from the spar deck, as he undertook to keep the rails clear forward and help the revolver practise if necessary. With him was Suarez, who knew what was expected of him, so the language difficulty offered no apparent hindrance once the fight began. Finally, if the Indians made good their footing, the defenders were to rally towards the saloon companion where steam jets were ready to spurt withering blasts along the corridors.

It was a good plan, and might have kept at bay an enemy of higher valor than the Alaculofs, provided they were not armed with rifles. Against modern weapons of long range nothing could be done. If Suarez did not exaggerate, therein lay the real danger. Courtenay wished to make sure at the outset of the number of guns carried by the savages; it was also important to know whether their marksmen were distributed, or crowded together in one or two canoes. If the latter, he would give those warriors his special attention.

His binocular glasses were not strong enough so he walked back towards the chart-house to procure a telescope. Catching Joey under his left arm, he climbed the short ladder leading to the spar deck, and pulled it up after him, the bolts having been already removed to permit of that being done. Walker was screwing tight the door of the engine-room, in order to safeguard the fireman in attendance on the donkey-boiler. Now that the screw-driving was actually in operation, it very unpleasantly reminded Courtenay of the fastening of a coffin lid. Neither Walker nor the man inside could guess the gruesome notion which held the captain in its chilly grip for an instant; indeed, the engineer looked up with a grin.

"I suppose it's twue, sir, the-aw's goin' to be a fight?" he asked.

"There's a fair chance of one, Walker."

Walker winked suggestively.

"That chap inside thinks he's out of it," he said, "so that's all wight." An energetic turn of the screwdriver signified that the man from Newcastle held the opposite view. Much as he loved his engines, he preferred to be on deck when the trouble came.

It happened that during this slight delay Courtenay glanced at the northern headland, which Elsie had christened Cape Templar, owing to the somewhat remarkable profile of a knight in armor offered by its seaward crags. Possibly, had he gone straight to the chart-house, he might not have noticed a signal fire which was in full blast on the summit of the cliff. It had not been many minutes in existence, and it struck him at once that it was a vehicle of communication between the savages in the approaching canoes and others, yet invisible, who were expected to share in the attack.

He was quick to perceive how seriously this new peril affected his calculations. By the time the nine canoes he had counted were alongside the ship, there might be dozens of others ready to help them. He leaned over the rail.

"Did you test those flexible pipes this morning?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir, they-aw in fine condition," said Walker.

"Try them again, will you? I want to make sure. Our lives may depend on them very soon."

He saw Suarez watching the oncoming canoes. By a touch on the shoulder he called the man's attention to the smoke signal on Cape Templar. A voluble and perfervid explanation in Spanish was useless. Here arose the unforeseen need of an interpreter. Without troubling to analyze his feelings, Courtenay was glad of the excuse which presented itself of obtaining a momentary glimpse of Elsie.

"Bring the senorita," he said, and Elsie, wondering why she had been summoned from the saloon, ran up the bridge companion. Her face was aglow with excitement, her heart going pit-a-pat. She hoped that Courtenay meant to keep her near him during the fight; she almost doubted Christobal's statement that the captain had given specific orders that she was to remain in the saloon. It was one thing that she should wish to avoid him, but why should he wish to avoid her?

The joy in her eyes died away when she found that the captain merely required a translator. The restraint she imposed on herself made her tongue trip. She had to ask Suarez to repeat his statement twice before she was able to put it into English.

"He says that the Indians only kindle a fire on that point when they want the signal to be seen from the sea," she explained at last. "They used it once, to his knowledge, when some of them had gone to the island out there to kill seals. He cannot guess what it portends to-day, but he is quite sure that they have many more canoes at command than those which you now see up the bay."

Courtenay could not fail to notice her agitation. His quick intent was to soothe her.

"I am afraid my sending for you in such a hurry rather alarmed you. Suarez strikes me as a person of nerves; he overrates the enemy, Miss Maxwell. I think you know me well enough to believe that I would not mislead you, and I am quite in earnest when I tell you that we shall drive off these unfortunate wretches with comparative ease. Why, I had it in my heart to pity them a moment ago."

She was glad he misunderstood the cause of her agitation.

"Suarez is certainly rather dramatic," she said, smiling wistfully. "I ought to have discounted his Spanish mode of address. But is it really necessary that I should remain below?"

"It is. If shots are fired, or stones slung at us, the chart-house will probably be hit. Ah, yes, I am sure you would risk that, and more. But we may sustain casualties. And Christobal ought to have help. You see, I am asking you to act the braver part."

He caught her hand and looked into her eyes. There are so many messages that can be given in that silent language; for a blissful moment, Elsie forgot the other woman. Not until she had left the bridge did she realize that Courtenay, too, must have been equally forgetful. And that was very distressing, both for her and the unknown. But here she was, face to face with him, and in such close proximity that she was unaccountably timid. While her heart leaped in tumult, she forced her lips to answer:

"You are right. You are always right. I was selfish in thinking that—that I—might—"

There was a pitiful quivering in the corners of her mouth. Courtenay felt her hand tremble.

"Be a brave girl, Elsie," he murmured. "You must go now. Have no fear. We are in God's care. May His angels watch over you!"

"But you, you will not risk your life? What shall we do if anything happens to you?"

She was strung to that tense pitch when unguarded speech bubbles forth the soul's secrets. All she knew was that Courtenay was looking at her as a man looks at the woman he loves. And that sufficed. The mere sound of her name on his lips was music. He told her to go, yet held her hand a willing prisoner. His words had the sound of a prayer, but it was the orison of a knight to his lady. He bade her fear not, while he trembled a little himself, though she well knew it was not fear which shook him. Neither of them paid heed to the presence of Suarez. For an instant they had a glimpse of heaven, but the curiously harsh voice of the Spanish miner fell on their ears, and they came back to earth with a sudden drop.

"The Feathered People are singing their war chant," he said, and his gesture seemed to ask them to listen. They started apart, and it was not Elsie alone who blushed. Courtenay crimsoned beneath the tan on his face, and pretended a mighty interest in the doings of the savages. The girl recovered her self-control more rapidly. She half whispered the meaning of the miner's cry, whereon Courtenay tried to laugh.

"They will be singing a dirge next," said he with a jaunty confidence. "Now, Elsie, off with you! Be sure I shall come and tell you when you may appear on deck."

She hurried away. She recked naught of the Alaculof challenge. Though the raucous notes of the tuneless lay could be heard plainly enough, they did not reach her ears. When she raced down the saloon companion she found Christobal bending over the small case of instruments he always carried. He straightened himself in his peculiarly stiff way.

"What did the captain want?" he asked, with a suspicious peevishness which, for once, detracted from his habitual courtesy. The note of distrust jarred Elsie back into her senses.

"He wished me to translate Senor Suarez's explanation of another smoke signal," she answered.

"Oh, was that all?"

"Practically all."

"He told you himself, I suppose, that he wished you to stay here."

"He did more. He drove me away."

"Against your will?"

"No. Am I not one of the ship's company? Is he not the centurion? He says to this woman, Go, and she goeth, nor does she stand upon the order of her going. Oh, please don't look at me as if I were cracked. Surely one may mingle the Bible and Shakespeare in an emergency?"

"One may also tear linen sheets into strips," said Christobal, gravely. Elsie's quip had saved the situation. He attributed her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes to the fever of the threatened fight.

She applied herself eagerly to the task. Already the fume and agony of vain regret were striving to conquer the ecstasy which had flooded her whole being. She remembered that passionate longing to be clasped in Courtenay's arms which she experienced when she saw him in the canoe, and now, after draining to the dregs the cup of bitterness she had forced on herself during these later days, here she was, ready as ever to quaff the love potion. Poor Elsie! She longed for the waters of Lethe; haply they are denied to young women with live blood in their veins.

Courtenay, meanwhile, was examining the advancing flotilla. His brain was conning each detail of the Alaculof array, but his heart was whispering gladly:

"In another moment you would have kissed her and told her you loved her. You know you would, so don't deny it! Ah! kissed her, and held her to your breast!"

So Suarez spoiled a pretty bit of romance by his ruffling agitation over some bawl of savage frenzy, for Courtenay, of course, would have laughed away the girl's protests that she was usurping another woman's place. It was really a pity that the man from Argentina had not found something else to occupy his mind at that precise juncture in the affairs of two young people who were obviously mated by the discriminating gods. A good deal of suffering and heartburning would then have been avoided; but perhaps it was just the whim of fate that the captain's love affair should follow the irregular course mapped out for his ship, and the Kansas was not yet re-launched on the ocean high-road to London, no, not by any manner of means.

In fact, if the confident demeanor of the paddling warriors in the canoes were destined to be justified, the big steamer was in parlous state. Her vast bulk and sheer walls of steel did not daunt them. They came on steadily against the rapid current, and spread out into a crescent when within a few hundred yards of the ship. Then three men, crouching in the bows of different canoes, produced rifles hitherto invisible and began to shoot. The bullets ricochetted across the ripples, and Courtenay saw that the savages did not understand the sighting appliances. They were aiming point-blank at the vessel, in so far as they could be said to aim at anything, and the low trajectory caused the first straight shot to rebound from the surface of the water and strike a plate amidships. The loud clang of the metal was hailed by the Alaculofs with shouts of delight. Probably they had no fixed idea of the distance the tiny projectiles would carry. Joey began to bark furiously, and the Indians imitated him. The hammer-like blow of the bullet, the defiance of the dog, and the curiously accurate yelping of the men in the canoes, mixed in wild medley with the volleyed echoes of the firing now rolled back from the opposing cliffs. In such wise did the battle open. Courtenay, more amused than anxious, did not silence the terrier, and Joey's barking speedily rose to a shrill and breathless hysteria. Some savage, more skilled than his fellows, reproduced this falsetto with marvelous exactness. There never was a death struggle heralded by such grotesque humor; it might have been a tragedy of marionettes, a Dutch concert on the verge of the pit.

The long-range firing was kept up for several minutes, much to Courtenay's relief, as Suarez was certain that the Indians' stock of cartridges did not amount to more than four hundred at the utmost. The canoes crept gradually nearer, and bullets began to strike the ship frequently. One glanced off a davit and shattered a couple of windows in the chart-house. This incident aroused even greater enthusiasm than the first blow of the attack. There was renewed activity among the paddle wielders. Two canoes were not fifty yards from the most southerly floating mine. Courtenay commenced to haul in the slack of one among the half-dozen thin cords: he turned to tell Suarez to be ready for the duty which had been entrusted to him, when his glance happened to travel towards the mouth of the bay.

Then he learnt the significance of that column of smoke on the northern point. A fleet of at least forty canoes was advancing on the ship from the sea. Tide and paddles were swinging the small craft along at a spanking pace. They were already much nearer the vessel than the first batch of Indians, who had very cleverly contrived to enlist the attention of the defenders while the real attack was developing without let or hindrance. It was a smart ruse, worthy of a race of higher attainments than the tribe which is ranked lowest in the human scale. During long days of patient watching, they had probably estimated to a nicety the number of men on board. They reasoned that a show of force to the south would draw all eyes from the north, and the stronger squadron of canoes might be enabled to run under the bows of the ship so speedily and quietly that the occupants of the leading craft, men who could climb like monkeys, stood some chance of gaining the deck unobserved. That this was their design was proved by the abstention of the newcomers from firing or stone-slinging. They were gathering with the speed and silence of vultures.

Two mines protected the front of the Kansas, and several canoes had passed them. Indeed, Courtenay soon found that some of the assailants were already screened by the ship's bows, but the larger number were clustered thickly round Tollemache's infernal machines. It was well that a cool-headed sailor was called on to deal with this emergency. The captain of the Kansas even smiled as he appreciated the full meaning of the trick which his adversaries had tried to play on him, and the man who smiles in the face of danger is one to be depended on.

The six cords were numbered. He dropped No. 2, which he was holding, and seized Nos. 4 and 5. He drew them in, hand over hand, as rapidly as possible, but careful not to sacrifice a smooth tension to undue hurry. In a few seconds two deafening reports split the air, the glass front of the chart-house shook, pieces of the broken panes rattled on the floor, several scraps of iron, bolts, nuts and heavy nails fell on the decks and hatches, and a tremendous hubbub of yells came from the main body of Indians. A couple of heavily charged dynamite bombs had burst in their midst, dealing death and destruction over a wide area. Several canoes near the floating platforms were torn asunder and sank, while men were killed or wounded out of all proportion to the number of craft disabled.

Courtenay at once picked up the governing cord of the mine which he was about to fire in the first instance. He felt that the Alaculof flotilla would act in future on the "once bitten twice shy" principle where those innocent-looking little poles showed above sea level, and he must strike fierce blows while the opportunity served. The nine canoes on the south were not clustered around the bomb in the same manner as the others, but they were near enough to sustain heavy loss, and their affrighted crews had ceased to ply their paddles. So he fired that shell also, and had the satisfaction of seeing two more of the frail craft capsize.

He heard the crash of bullets against the ship's sides; a volley of stones smashed several more panes of stout glass; many arrows were embedded in the woodwork: but he calmly pulled another cord, and blew a single loud blast on the siren. That was the agreed signal to warn those below that they must expect to be attacked from the fore part of the vessel. His shot-gun was lying on the table. He took it up, and faced forward again; several canoes were scurrying past and away from the ship as fast as the current and many arms could propel them. He fired both barrels at those within range on the port side. He reloaded, and the sharp snapping of revolver-shots told him that Tollemache and the Chilean were busy.

But the Indians were demoralized by the complete failure of their scheme. They had ceased firing and stone-slinging; they were flying for their lives. Courtenay wheeled round on Suarez.

"Now!" he cried, pointing to a speaking-trumpet. Suarez ran out on deck, put the megaphone to his mouth, and roared after the discomfited enemy a threat of worse things in store if they dared to come near the ship again. As he used the Alaculof language, the sounds he uttered were the most extraordinary that Courtenay had ever heard from a human throat—a compound of hoarse, guttural vowels, and consonants ending in a series of clicks—and the stentorian power of his lungs must have amazed the Indians.

Courtenay saw that the two fleets were combining forces about five hundred yards to westward. They were close inshore, but none of the savages landed, nor did they head for the more remote Otter Creek. As he was anxious to keep them on the run, he resolved to try the siren again. He judged rightly, as it transpired, that they would fear the bellow of the fog-horn even more than the flying missiles which had dealt death and serious wounds so lavishly.

He knew sufficient Spanish, eked out by signs, to bid Suarez hold the siren cord taut for a minute. While the Kansas was still trumpeting forth her loud blare of defiance, he ran down the bridge companion. Mr. Boyle and the tiny garrison of the port promenade deck received him jubilantly; they had escaped without a bruise, and, owing to their position, were able to witness the Indians' retreat.

He raced across to starboard, and found that, by unfortunate mischance, a Chilean fireman in Tollemache's detachment had been shot through the brain. The poor fellow was prone on the deck; it was only too evident that a doctor's skill could avail him naught, so Tollemache had decided that he should not be taken below. The incident marred an easily won victory. Courtenay was assured in his own mind that none of the men had been injured, seeing that he and Suarez, who occupied the most dangerous position, were untouched. This fatality was a mere blunder of fate, and it grieved him sorely.

Even while he bent reverently over the unlucky Chilean's body, the deafening vibration of the fog-horn ceased, and he heard Elsie's glad cry from the saloon:

"Oh my, here comes Joey! That means that Captain Courtenay has left the bridge."

The girl's joyous exclamation, her prelude to a paean of thanks that the dreadful necessary slaying of men had ceased, was a strange commentary on the shattered form stretched at the commander's feet. Among the small company on board, it had been decreed that one, at least, after surviving so many perils, should never see home and kin again.

He gave orders that the dead man should be carried to the poop to await a sailor's burial; then he turned, and with less sprightly step descended the main companion. In the saloon he found Elsie and Christobal watching the stairs expectantly. The girl had the dog in her arms, and Courtenay perceived, for the first time, that Joey's off fore paw had been cut by the broken glass which littered the floor of the chart-house.

"Then the attack has really failed?" was Elsie's greeting. "I saw some of the canoes turn and scurry away. That was the first good sign. And then Joey came."

"You saw them?" repeated Courtenay, his bent brows emphasizing the question.

"Yes. I was looking through one of the ports. Was that wrong?"

"Which one?"

She pointed. "That one," said she, wondering that he had never a smile for her.

"Then you must obey orders more faithfully next time. A man was shot dead by a stray bullet not three feet above your head."

She paled, and her eyes fell before his stern gaze, which did not deceive her at all, for she read the unspoken agony of his thought.

"I am sorry," she murmured, "not so much on my own account, though I shall be more careful in future, but because some one has suffered. Who is it? Not one of our own people, I hope?"

"A fireman; I think his name is Gama. You have hardly seen him, I fancy, but I regret his loss exceedingly. It must have been the merest accident."

The captain of the Kansas was certainly preoccupied, or he would never have failed to inquire the extent of Joey's injury. Nor would either he or Elsie have forgotten that Christobal was not "one of our own people," though the girl might protest hotly against any invidious twisting of the phrase.

The Spaniard missed nothing of Courtenay's solicitude for Elsie's well-being, nor of her shy confusion. By operation of the occult law which governs static electricity, it was possible that the magnetism flowing between those two communicated itself to a third person. However that might be, Christobal was under no sort of doubt that, unless another "accident" intervened, he had lost all chance of winning this woman's love.

But he swallowed the bitter knowledge and said:

"If you undertake to hold the dog, Miss Maxwell, I will bind his paw."

"Oh, my ducky darling little pet! Did I actually forget all about his dear wounded little foot? And he came hopping in so bravely, too, carrying himself with such a grand air. Come, then, Joey dear! Let us see what has happened. Yes, this is the doctor, but he won't hurt you. He is so good and kind to little dogs; he will wrap up the bleedy part until it is quite nice and comfy."

"Your only patient, doctor," said the captain, cheerily, when Elsie had done fondling the dog. "Even crediting our poor fireman to the enemy's score, we have had the best of the first round."

"Is there any likelihood of a second attack?"

"I hope not. Indeed, I shall be very much surprised if they show up again."

"Ah, that is excellent. Our young lady here does not thrive on excitement, especially of the murderous variety. She is on the verge of a high fever."

"Then she can calm down now; there will be no more fighting to-day," said Courtenay, with a smiling glance at Elsie which told her quite plainly that Christobal did not really know what he was talking about. Which goes to prove that even a prudent man may say mistaken things, with both his tongue and his eyes.



CHAPTER XIV

THE FIRST WATCH

On his way back to the deck, the captain encountered Suarez. The man's gestures, and the satisfaction which lit up his wrinkled face, would have told the news he wished to convey if Courtenay were not able to catch the words "Indianos" and "van." In his excitement the Spaniard pulled the Englishman towards one of the peep-holes in the canvas screen. Sure enough, the canoes were making off towards Otter Creek. In the marvelously clear light it was easy to see the threatening arms held out towards the ship by a few men who stood upright. Even their raucous cries were yet audible. Courtenay was glad he had not missed this demonstration of hatred. It argued the necessity of continued watchfulness.

The general attitude of the crew was one of real annoyance that the fight had not been carried on at close quarters. They had heard a good deal of noise and yelling, the starboard squad had experienced the thrill of having a man fall dead in their midst, but, with the exception of Tollemache and the Chilean marksman, the main body of the defenders took no part in the fray and saw but little of it. And it is one of human nature's queer proclivities that it seeks rather than shirks a combat when the loins are girt for the smiting.

Walker, though eager to return to his lathe, was no exception to the rule. He looked a trifle discontented when the captain found him unscrewing the engine-room hatch.

"That was a pwetty poo-aw scwap, sir," said he. "I did expect to have a smack at some of those magpies, if only for the sake of washin' the paint an' feath-ahs off 'em with a jet of steam."

"They came quite near enough to be pleasant, Walker. Their flank march was almost a surprise; if a swarm of vicious savages had succeeded in reaching the decks—well, we might have beaten them off, but it would have been touch and go."

"Mebbe you-aw wight, cap'n. 'Best look at a bull ov-ah a fence,' as they say in the Canny Toon. Eh, but I'll have a fine tale to tell when next I meet my butties on the Quay-side. Did ye ev-ah see such faces as yon, all daubed wi' black an' white! Talk about Chirgwin—"

Courtenay smiled and passed on. He was in no mood for jesting: the death of the Chilean fireman had damped his high spirits. The Kansas bore tokens in plenty of the battle. Many bullets and arrows had struck the ship; the canvas was torn in several places; a number of port lights were broken, and the open decks fore and aft, as well as the spar deck, were littered with stones. He picked up some of these missiles, man's earliest and latest projectile. They were round and heavy; a few bore the red streaks of oxidized iron; some appeared to be veritable lumps of ore, though the action of water had made them "smooth stones out of the brook." He showed one to Tollemache, who seemed to possess a good deal of out-of-the-way knowledge, and the latter instantly pronounced the specimen to be almost pure copper veined with silver.

"Queer thing!" he commented. "You find the worst rotters in any country squatted over the richest minerals."

At the time, Courtenay gave slight heed to this bit of crude philosophy. It was not until he called to mind the Kaffir, the Australian black, the Alaskan Indian, the primeval nomads of California, Colorado, and Northern Siberia, that he saw how extraordinarily true was his friend's dictum. Then he looked on the shores of Good Hope Inlet with a new interest. Would a city ever spring up in that desolate land, a city builded of those pebbles which had clattered against the solid walls of the Kansas? Who could tell? The long romance of gold contained stranger chapters.

But the captain had more important things with which to bother his brains than the fanciful laying out of corner lots on the comparatively level bluff overlooking Otter Creek. He saw to the reverent burial of poor Pietro Gama, entered full details of the fight in the ship's log, and helped Walker to search the suspected coal for a further supply of dynamite, as the utility of the surface mines had been demonstrated beyond a doubt. He thought it possible, given the necessary time, to rig a device which would be practically invisible. A fresh set of dummy poles, which the Indians would probably avoid in the event of a second attack, might deflect the canoes into the area of new mines laid at sea level.

Their utmost diligence brought to light no further supply of the explosive. Evidently, the prepared lumps of coal, each containing a stick of dynamite, which were placed among the bunker at Valparaiso, had been conveyed on board by one man, so it was more than likely there was not another ounce of the stuff on the ship except the three specimens first discovered. These, water-soaked and useless, were locked in a drawer in the chart-house.

While scrutinizing the bunker, Courtenay found a grimy piece of paper, crushed into a ball and amalgamated with coaldust by means of the glue, or other substance, which had been used for making the bombs intended for the destruction of the furnaces. He examined it carefully, believing it had the appearance and texture of cartridge paper. He placed it in his pocket, and, while changing his clothes before joining the others at supper, came on it again with a certain surprise. He plunged it into a basin of hot water, and it yielded its secret. It was the outer wrapper of a stick of dynamite; it bore the circular stamp of the manufacturers, the "Sociedad Anonyma de las Costas del Pacifico." This, in itself, meant nothing. The same company probably supplied hundreds of mines with the five-pound boxes in which dynamite is packed, and, if the stamp were the only clue, none could possibly say when or where it had been issued for use.

But miners are apt to be careless; men accustomed to dynamite will handle it with an astounding disregard for danger. And here was a case in point. Some Spanish overseer, evidently at a loss for a memorandum tablet, had scribbled hieroglyphics with an indelible pencil on this particular wrapper. It was clear that the figures and abbreviated words referred to the development of a cross-heading and the position of certain lodes, but Courtenay was quick to see that the official who made those notes would recognize them. Hence, the mine or store from which the package had been stolen or bought could be identified. Such evidence was of high circumstantial value. Courtenay put the wrapper in the same drawer as the cartridges, entered in the log the time and manner of its discovery, and forthwith dismissed it from his mind.

It was almost dark when he went on deck. The wind was keen and chilly. It whistled through the broken windows of the wheel-house, and seemed to have in it a promise of bad weather. But a glance aloft and at the sky beyond the southern headland—Point Kansas, as it was called on board—reassured him. The far-flung arc overhead was cloudless. The stars of the southern hemisphere, vivid and bright, though less familiar than those of the north, were reflected in the black water. The ship was so still, the surroundings so peaceful, save for the plash of tiny waves created by the breeze, that he was almost startled when a soft voice came from the lower deck:

"Where in the world have you been, Captain Courtenay? Joey is fretting for you, and I have carried him all over the ship in vain search."

His heart jumped with gladness. Elsie was awaiting him at the foot of the companion. Be sure he was by her side without needless delay. The dog wriggled in her arms, so she said:

"I don't think he ought to run about. His dear little paw is rather badly cut, and there may be more broken glass on the deck."

"I hope not, for our Chileans' sake," laughed Courtenay. "I heard Mr. Boyle telling them to sweep it up, and they were hard at work when I went to my cabin."

"Oh, is that where you hid yourself? No wonder I could not find you. Of course, Joey knew where you were. How stupid of me!"

"Please don't call yourself names, Elsie. You don't deserve them. And, by the way, may I address you by your Christian name? It slipped out to-day unawares. Not that I feel like apologizing, because I don't. There are times when the heart speaks, not the guarded tongue."

Luckily, the darkness covered the hot blush which leaped to her cheeks. She gave a nervous little laugh, and strove desperately to parry this wholly unexpected assault.

"I shall be delighted if you always call me Elsie. It sounds friendly, and I think our circumstances warrant a true friendship."

"Excellent. I suppose you know that my name is Arthur?"

"Yes, but I had no notion of that sort of exchange. You are the captain, and a very serious sort of captain at times. I feel like a little girl when you look at me and tell me not to be naughty. So 'Elsie' sounds all right, but I simply dare not call you 'Arthur.' Just imagine what a sensation it would create in the saloon. I should feel creepy all over. And hadn't we better be—"

"Elsie," said he, with a tender note in his voice which thrilled her like a chord of exquisite music, "I want to tell you something. The knowledge is forced on me that there is another man on this ship who wishes to make you his wife. But I, too, love you, and I see no reason why I should stand aside for any man on God's earth until you tell me with your own lips that you prefer him to me."

"Oh!" gasped Elsie, and "Oh!" again, but not another word could she utter, she who had been so voluble a moment ago. The bitter-sweet pain of hearing this sudden avowal was almost overpowering. Her ideals of honor and truth were shocked; but she was a woman as well as an idealist, and she was stirred to the depths of her soul by the knowledge that she had won the man whose love she craved. Yet it must not be: she could never again hold her head high if she yielded to him. She must relinquish him, drive him away from her by an assumed coldness which would wring her very heart-strings. If he came nearer, if he took her in his arms, she would be unable to resist him. Her impulse was to fly, to lock herself in her room. But she could not drop the wounded dog on the deck, and Joey, satisfied by his master's presence, snuggled up close to her breast, and made the most of his comfortable quarters. And now, while Courtenay stroked Joey with one hand, he placed the other on Elsie's shoulder. What a plight for a frightened maid who wished to escape! Of course, because she wished that some one would come to her help, the deck was practically deserted. Certainly, Mr. Boyle did appear at the after end of the corridor; but he seemed to remember something strong and urgent which the crew ought to hear, and he turned back.

And here was Courtenay speaking again, speaking in the slow and definite way of a man who was determined that there should be no lingering doubt as to his meaning.

"I want you to listen to me, Elsie," he said, with a passionate intensity that stilled the rising storm in her bosom. "Doctor Christobal may have pleaded his own cause already. It is not for me to cavil at him for doing that. But I cannot lose you without a word. Whether you marry him or me, or neither of us, I shall love you for ever. I want you to know that. It is no new discovery to me. I think my heart went out to you when I carried you in my arms through the gale, and since that hour you and I have had experiences denied to most men and women ere they reach the conclusion that they are fit mates for the voyage of life. Do you feel that, sweetheart? Have we known each other ten days, or ten years?"

His face was very near to hers now. His arm had encroached so far that it was around her neck. It was quite dark where they stood in the shadow of the bridge. He could not see the tears in her eyes, but he heard her broken answer:

"Are you—quite—fair—in using such words to me?"

"Fair, Elsie! 'Fair' to whom?"

"Because—oh, how can I tell you? Are you free to—to speak to me in this way?"

"Elsie, I am pledged to no other woman, if that is what you mean. Who has been telling you otherwise?"

"No one. Indeed, indeed, I alone am to blame. You will be angry with me, but I could not help it."

She could say no more. If she had uttered another syllable just then she would have broken down completely. Joey did not seem to need any further fondling; hence, having a hand at liberty, so to speak, Courtenay placed it under her chin, and lifted her unresisting lips to his. He kissed her twice, and laughed softly, with a glad confidence that sent a wave of delight coursing through Elsie's veins.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "I am sure you would not have allowed me to speak so plainly if you were going to send me away. Now, I don't want you to bind yourself irrevocably to-night. That would certainly not be fair. I don't know why I am to be angry, or what it was you couldn't help, and I don't care a red cent. All I want to know is this—if the Kansas brings us both back to the outer world once more, have I as good a chance of winning your love as any other man?"

"But I must tell you. I could not look you in the face again if you did not hear it. When I was left alone in your cabin, the second time, and the sea came in, a packet of letters fell out of some clothes which I picked up from the floor. There was one from your sister. I hardly knew what I was doing, but I saw her name, 'Madge,' and I read a few words on the half page above her signature."

His left arm was now so well established that his hand touched her cheek, and he found it wet with tears.

"What wild conceit has crept into your pretty little head?" he cried in amaze, unconsciously raising his voice somewhat. "A letter from my sister! She is the most straightforward woman breathing, I assure you. Never a line has she written to me which could bear any construction such as seems to trouble you. Why, on the contrary, Madge has often chaffed me for being so like herself in giving no thought to matrimony."

"It is horrid of me to persist, but I owe it to you to tell you what I saw. She alluded to your 'affianced wife,' and said that 'under no other circumstances,' whatever they were, would she receive her."

Then Courtenay laughed again, and Elsie found it was absolutely essential, if Joey were not to be crushed, that her head should bend a little forward, with the obvious result that it rested on Courtenay's shoulder.

"I must show you the whole of that letter," he cried, "and the others which are tied up in the same bundle. You will see me blush, I admit, but it will not be from a sense of perfidy. But there is one thing you have forgotten, Elsie—" and his voice dropped to a tense whisper again—"In telling me your secret, which is no secret, you have given me my answer. Your heart must have crept out a little way to meet mine, dear, or my sister's words would not have perplexed you. So that is why you have avoided me during the past few days! But there! Now, indeed, I am not acting quite fairly. It is unfair to ask you to confess when I want you to wait until we win clear of our present difficulties before you decide whether or not you can find it to your liking to make a poor sailor-man happy."

Joey was a highly accommodating dog under certain conditions. He had curled up so complacently that Elsie found she could hold him quite easily with one arm. So the other went out in the darkness until it rested timidly on her lover's disengaged shoulder.

"It is easy to confess that which is already known," she murmured. "Whether we are fated to live one day or fifty years, it will be all the same to me, dear."

She lifted her face again to his, and would have returned the kisses he gave her were it not that they lost their one-sided character this time. It was an odd place for love-making, this darkened nook on the deck of a disabled and beleaguered ship. But a man and a woman reck little of time or locality when the call of love's spring-time sounds in their ears. That magic summons can be heard but once, and it is well with the world, for those two at least, while its ecstasy floods the soul.

There was a chance that Joey might have been partly suffocated—though, to all appearance, he meant to die a willing martyr—had not Suarez leaned over the upper rail, and asked, in his grating accents, if he heard the senor captain's voice below.

Elsie, all tremulous and rosy, and profoundly thankful for the darkness, withdrew herself from Courtenay's embrace and answered the Argentine.

"Ah," said Suarez, "I am glad you are there too, senorita. Will you tell him that I am very hungry, and that I have not been relieved at the proper time. I have been waiting half an hour or more."

"There!" cried the captain, squeezing Elsie's arm, "that comes of using so many unnecessary explanations. I ought to have adopted the recognized Jack Tar method and just grabbed you round the waist without ceremony. I wonder where Boyle is. He and Christobal take the first watch, and it must be two bells, or later. I will hunt them up. Good-by, sweetheart. Meet you at supper in ten minutes."

It was a strange and peculiar fact that Boyle had cornered Christobal in the saloon, and had insisted on telling him various remarkable anecdotes concerning the one-legged skipper of the Flower of the Ocean brig. It was still more odd that when Christobal yielded to a fit of unwonted and melancholy silence after learning from Suarez that the senor captain had been talking to the senorita for a very long time on the promenade deck, Boyle should feel inclined to sing.

The chief officer's musical attainments were not of the highest, and his repertory was archaic. But there must be some explanation of his unwonted and melancholy chanting. He always spoke of Elsie with the utmost admiration, and it was no secret that he rendered Courtenay a sort of hero-worship hidden under the guise of an exaggerated belief in the good luck which followed the captain of the Kansas in all his doings. And then, with a chilling inspiration, Christobal knew why the chief officer had caused him to miss the hour for relieving the watch. Boyle had seen those two together, and had planned to leave them undisturbed!

The Spaniard was a dignified man; he had inherited from his English mother a saving sense of humor. It was intolerable that the pleasant relations existing between the few survivors on board the Kansas should be disturbed by reason of any failure on his part to acquiesce in Elsie's right to bestow her affections where she listed. He wondered if the girl had come on deck after supper; her habit was to retire early, as she rose soon after the sun. He had seen her for a moment only in passing out of the saloon, and there was a suspicious brightness in her eyes for which solicitude on the dog's behalf would hardly account. Why not put his fortunes to the test that night and have done with it? Yes, that was the right course. He would cease this petty watchfulness, this campaign of planning and contriving lest others should monopolize more of her smiles and pleasant words than he. A simple question would determine his fate. Either she was heart-whole, or not; at any rate, he would receive a straight answer.

So it was on the cards that Elsie would be the amazed recipient of two proposals in one evening, which is a better average than most women are favored with in a lifetime. Christobal had entered the chart-house with the fixed intent of warning Boyle that he was going below for a moment to ask Miss Maxwell to come on deck, when a hurried step on the bridge companion caused the imminent words to be withheld.

It was Courtenay, who had run up from the saloon to procure those fateful letters which had so nearly parted Elsie and himself. He had laughingly refused to tell her their history. That would spoil their effect, he said. She must take them to her state-room and read them at her leisure. Then she would see their true inwardness, and his feelings would be spared, as he could not deny that the majority of them had been written by ladies.

On his way, he looked into the wheel-house. There was no light in the interior. Boyle, wrapped in a heavy coat, was seated in the most sheltered corner.

"All quiet?" asked the captain, in his brisk way.

"Nothin' doin', sir," answered Boyle.

"I expect you are both feeling pretty tired. Tollemache and I propose to relieve you at six bells."

"But why?" demanded Christobal. "It is you who have passed an exciting day. I am ready to mount guard until dawn. Tollemache can join me now if he likes, as Mr. Boyle ought to be in bed."

"I'm all right," said Boyle, gruffly. "I am only sitting here because my back is stiff."

Courtenay glanced at the somber shadow of Point Kansas, silhouetted against the deep blue of the seaward arc.

"Suarez has retired to roost," he said. "He seems to be quite assured that the Indians will never deliver a night attack."

"To-day's hammering should teach them to leave the Kansas alone in future," said Christobal.

"I hope so, but Suarez and Tollemache agree that they are most persistent wretches. Now, Boyle, you must obey the doctor. I am going back to the saloon to give Miss Maxwell some documents I wish her to see. Then, Tollemache and I will relieve the pair of you. All right, Christobal; I promise to take my share of the blankets in the morning. I shall be ready for a nap at four o'clock. At present I feel particularly wide-awake."

He went to the cabin. They heard him unlock the door and enter. At that instant a startling hail came from two sailors stationed on the poop.

"Indianos!" they yelled.

The three men were on the spar deck a second later, straining their eyes into the black vagueness of the water.

"Indianos!" shouted two other sailors on the forecastle, and from the spar deck it seemed to be possible to distinguish several black objects moving towards the ship.

"The siren, Boyle," cried Courtenay, striking a match. At once the swelling note of the fog-horn smote the air and thundered away in tremendous sound waves. Soon a hissing, fiery serpent ran up the port wall of the chart-house, and a fine star rocket soared into the sky. It illuminated a wide area of the bay, and revealed a number of crowded canoes darting in on the ship from all sides. Courtenay grasped the lines connected with the remaining mines and hauled for dear life. Already the Indian rifle fire was crackling with vivid spurts of flame, and stones and arrows were beginning to patter on the deck and bang against the steel plates. Two of the dynamite bombs exploded with the usual din, but it was impossible to ascertain their effect owing to the yelling of the Indians.

The loud summons of the siren brought all hands from below; arms were hastily secured, the fore and aft awnings closed, and Walker made shift to hammer the engine-room door tight. The increasing violence of the stone-slinging showed that the Alaculofs meant to press home this time. Whatever their dread of the fiends who roam the world in the dark, they had conquered it, and this latest phase in the stormy history of the ship threatened to be its most trying one.

Courtenay, who seemed to be everywhere at once, lighted torches which were fastened to the empty davits in readiness for a night alarm. He had used the last rocket on board, but the flares would burn for fifteen minutes at least. By their light the defenders were able to shoot or smash the skulls of several savages who climbed up roughly contrived grapnells fashioned out of bent sticks and thongs of hide. But there were only thirteen men to repel an attack which developed at fifty points simultaneously. Ere the torches flickered in their sockets the savages had swarmed over poop and bows. They were tearing at the canvas shields and sweeping the hurricane deck with showers of missiles. Tollemache was injured, and Walker. Courtenay had his forehead cut open. Suarez fell insensible while he was bellowing curses through the megaphone in the vain hope of frightening the determined enemy. Two Chileans were down, one struck with a stone and the other shot through the lungs.

So, at last, the Kansas was in the grip of a savage and implacable foe. Courtenay, while hauling a steam hose to the weakest point, the after part of the promenade deck, met Christobal. He clutched the Spaniard in a way there could be no mistaking.

"Go below!" he muttered in a terrible voice. "I cannot leave the deck. You must go. And, for God's sake, don't tell her! Let her die without knowing!"



CHAPTER XV

IN WHICH THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS

When Christobal descended to the saloon he found Elsie holding the excited dog. It was instantly perceptible that she was not aware of the grave position of affairs on deck. She knew, of course, that the Alaculof menace had become active again, but the first attack had been beaten off so easily that she was sure this later effort would fail.

The dog was better informed. His alert ears told him that there were strange beings on board. He struggled so resolutely that Elsie freed him just as the Spaniard reached the foot of the stairs. Forgetting his wounded paw, and all a-quiver with the fine courage of his race, Joey galloped up the companion and disappeared. Elsie was much distressed by her four-footed friend's useless pugnacity.

"I could not keep him back," she said, "and I am afraid he runs some risk of being hit. Do you think he will go to the chart-house? That is so exposed—Captain Courtenay is not there, is he?"

"No. I left him a moment ago, close to the saloon entrance."

She listened intently. Her imagination led her astray, it was so hopelessly on the wrong tack.

"There does not appear to be so much stone-throwing now, but I suppose I ought not to go on deck?" she cried.

"It is not to be thought of, Miss Maxwell. Indeed, the captain asked me to come and bear you company."

"Just fancy those horrid Indians venturing to approach the ship to-night after the dreadful lesson they received this afternoon! And what will poor Senor Suarez say? He was so positive that they would never come near us after dark."

"I saw him, also, on the promenade deck," answered Christobal quietly. "He had very much the semblance of a false prophet."

The Spaniard meant to meet grim fate with a jest on his lips. He had seen Suarez lying dead or insensible close to the rails. In fact, the unlucky Argentine was only separated by the thickness of the ship's deck from the table near which Elsie was standing. Unless he were speedily rescued he would bleed to death.

"Ah, I heard Joey barking. He has gone aft," cried Elsie. "And what is that?" she added, moving suddenly towards the center of the saloon. She had caught the fierce hiss of steam, and she was well aware that steam would only be brought into use if the Indians were endeavoring to climb the ship's sides: not yet had it occurred that they could possibly be on board.

"Some of our friends the enemy have come near enough to be scalded," said the man, coolly. "That should soon drive them away. You are not frightened, I hope?"

"Not a bit. My only regret is that I am not permitted to help in the defense. It must be irksome for you, Dr. Christobal, to be stationed here when the ship is in danger. I am certain you would prefer to be up there with the others."

"Thank you for saying that. I wish you were able to read all my thoughts as accurately."

His right hand went to the pocket in which he had placed the revolver. The stock appeared to have a peculiar clamminess as his fingers closed around it. Though he was proud of the iron nerve which had won him repute in his profession, he almost prayed now that it might not fail him at the last. What a horror, to be compelled with his parting glance to see this bright and gracious woman crumple up on the deck!

"But I know you are a brave man," she said with a confidant smile. "It demanded a higher courage to pass undaunted through the ordeal of the storm than to face these ill-armed Indians. Please don't think I am a warlike person, but it makes my blood boil to find that there are wretches who regard our distress as their opportunity to murder us and pillage the ship. What have we done to them? If they are poor and hungry, and they would only come to us in a peaceful way, Captain Courtenay would give them all the stores he could spare."

Christobal heard ominous sounds from the fore part of the vessel. The revolver shooting had ceased, for the convincing reason there were no more cartridges. Courtenay's double barrelled gun was being fired as quickly as he could reload it, and the sharp snap of one of the rifles in the Indians' possession was recognizable as coming from the poop, the remaining marksmen having preferred to fire wildly from their canoes. But Christobal knew that a deadly struggle was in progress on the fore deck. Tollemache, Frascuelo, and three Chileans were engaged in a hand-to-hand fight with nearly a score of savages; the doctor could distinguish the cries of the combatants, the irregular stamping of boot-shod feet.

He wondered why the girl, with her acute senses, did not grasp the significance of the yells and trampling on the deck, until it occurred to him, with a quick pang, that she was listening for one voice alone; owing to her ignorance of the desperate nature of the conflict raging overhead she had ears for nothing further.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked at him. There was a gravity in his eyes, which startled her.

"Elsie," he said, "you believe in the efficacy of prayer, don't you? Well, then, pray now a little. I shall be glad to think, when this time of danger has passed, that we owed something to your invocation."

It was in his mind that he must shoot her within a few seconds, and the immeasurable agony of the thought reflected itself in his face. He had no notion that she would give his words a more direct significance than he intended them to bear. But a strange, hoarse yell of triumph, the war-cry of an Alaculof leader who had hauled himself to the bridge and found it undefended, warned her in the same moment that all was not well with the defense.

She sprang towards the saloon stairs.

"Do you hear that?" she cried in a ringing voice. "There are Indians on board. Come! We must not stay here when our friends are fighting for their lives."

Christobal knew that this active girl would readily outstrip him in a race to the deck. She was already several feet distant, but he must detain her, no matter what the cost; if she fell into the clutches of the ghouls then over-running the Kansas, she might not be killed, but only wounded, and her sufferings would be inconceivable ere the end came.

"You are wrong," he shouted with convincing vehemence. "But, if you wish to see for yourself, at least allow me to go first."

While he was speaking, he ran forward. She thought he meant what he said, and waited for him. Then he caught her right arm firmly in his left hand.

"Let us wait here a moment or two," he breathed.

"No, no; I am going now. You shall not hold me back. You don't understand. The man I love is up there, perhaps surrounded by savages. Let me go, I tell you! If he is dying I shall die by his side. Let me go! Would you have me strike you?" She turned on him like an angry goddess, and strove to wrest herself from his grip. At that instant Tollemache and Frascuelo, the only survivors of the deadly struggle forward, were driven back by a rush of Indians. They caught sight of others leaping down the bridge companion.

"To the saloon, Courtenay!" roared Tollemache, clearing a path for himself with an iron bar which he swung in both hands. Followed by Frascuelo, he jumped inside the saloon gangway. Four savages followed, two entering through the doorway behind him. One raised a hatchet-like implement, and would have brained the Englishman had not Christobal whipped out his revolver and shot him through the body, releasing the girl's wrist in his flurry. The Indian pitched headlong down the stairs, falling limply at Elsie's feet. She stooped over the terrifying figure and seized the man's weapon. Her eyes shone with a strange light. She felt her arms tingle. A wonderful power seemed to flow through her body, like a gush of strong wine. She was assured that she, unaided, could beat down all the puny, despicable creatures who barred the path to her lover. She vaulted over the writhing form of the Alaculof, and made to climb the stairs, but Christobal, admirably cool, fired again and brought another Indian to his knees. The second Indian's fall caused Frascuelo to trip; and the Chilean, locked rib to rib with a somewhat sturdy opponent, rolled into the saloon. Elsie drew back just in time, or the two men would have knocked her down. Even as they were turning over on the steep steps she saw Frascuelo's knife seek that favorite junction of neck and collar-bone which Christobal had said was so well understood by those of his ilk. At the foot of the stairs the Indian lay still, and Frascuelo tried to rise. She helped him gladly. The awfulness of this killing no longer appalled her. Each dead or disabled Indian was one less obstacle between her and Courtenay. A third time the revolver barked, but Christobal missed. It did not matter greatly, as Tollemache had shortened his bar, using it twice as a miner delves at a rock. But the doctor did not forget that he had only three cartridges left, two of which were bespoke long before the fight began.

At last, then, the way was clear. Elsie would have mounted the stairs but an appealing hand detained her.

"I cannot walk, senorita. My leg has given way. And we can do no good there. They are all down."

A death chill gripped her heart at Frascuelo's words.

"All down!" she repeated, white-lipped.

"I think so," said he, blankly. The man was dazed by the ordeal through which he had passed.

As if to answer and refute him, Joey's hysterical yelp sounded from a point close at hand, and they distinctly heard Courtenay's loud command:

"This way, Boyle! Rally to the bridge!"

"You are mistaken!" shrieked Elsie, wrenching herself free from the Chilean's grasp. Nothing short of violence would stop her now. Tollemache darted out into the darkness, and she mounted the steps two at a time. Christobal panted by her side. He was determined not to be parted from her: if necessary, he would drag her away from any doubtful encounter on the battle-field of the deck. But his blood was aflame now with the lust of combat. He wished to die fighting rather than by a suicide's bullet.

They were not yet clear of the doorway when an extraordinary burst of cheering and shouts in English and Spanish assailed their wondering ears. The sounds seemed to come from the sea, from some point very near to the ship. A loud hubbub arose among the Indians; Courtenay, clubbing his gun, rushed past, with the dog at his heels, and ran up the bridge companion. They could follow his progress as he raced towards the port side, and they heard his amazed cry:

"What boats are those?"

"Your own, captain," came the answering yell, plainly audible above the din.

"That is Mr. Gray," screamed Elsie, and she, too, ran towards the bridge, with the doctor close behind.

"Sink every canoe you can get alongside of, and knock those fellows on the head who are swimming," roared Courtenay, who was so carried away by the fierceness of the fight from which he had just emerged that he would have given the same directions to the archangel Michael had that warrior-spirit come to his aid.

He seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, he turned so suddenly when Elsie neared him.

"Ah, thank God you are safe!" he said, drawing her to him for an instant. "Stand there, dear heart!"

He placed her in the forward angle of the bridge rail, and leaned out over the side. She understood that she must not speak to him then, but a great joy overwhelmed her, and her eyes melted into tears.

Christobal, who had missed no word of Elsie's frenzied protest in the saloon, nor failed to note the manner of Courtenay's greeting, seemed to take the collapse of his own aspirations with the unmoved stoicism he had displayed in the face of danger.

"The ship's boats—" he began, but the captain raised his gun and fired twice aft along the side of the vessel. Cries of pain and a good deal of splashing in the sea proved that he had expedited the departure of several Indians who were perched on the rails beyond the reach of Walker's steam jet.

"The ship's boats," went on Christobal calmly, "have turned up in some mysterious manner, just in the nick of time. A few minutes more, and they would have been too late."

"But where have they come from? Where can they have been all these days?" whispered Elsie, whose eyes were so dimmed that she perforce abandoned the effort to make out what was going on in the sea near the ship.

"My brain reels under the wildest guesses. At present we are chiefly concerned in the fact that they are here. Yet people say that the age of miracles has passed: obviously a foolish remark."

Those who have been plucked from the precipice by a sleeve, as it were, are seldom able to concentrate their attention on the one thought which should apparently swamp all others. They either yield to the strain, and lapse into unconsciousness, or their minds become the arena of minor emotions, wherein trivialities play battledore and shuttlecock with the tremendous issues of the moment. When a more extended knowledge of all that had happened, joined to a nicer adjustment of the time-factor in events, enabled Elsie to realise the extraordinary deliverance from death which she had been vouchsafed that night, she began to appreciate the service which Christobal rendered her in discussing matters with such nonchalance.

Barely a minute had elapsed since they were in the throes of a struggle which promised to be the last act of a tragedy. The ship was then over-run by a horde of howling savages, maddened by the desperate resistance offered by the defenders, and ruthless as wolves in their lust for destruction. Now, the Kansas was clear of every bedaubed Alaculof, save the many who cumbered the decks, either dead or so seriously wounded that they could not move. These men were so near akin to animals, that this condition implied ultimate collapse save in a few instances of fractured skulls and broken limbs. From the final stage of a hopeless butchery the survivors of the ship's company were suddenly transferred to a position of reasonable security. It was not that the arrival of the ship's boats meant such an accession of fighting strength that the Alaculofs could not have made sure of victory. Gray and his companions were badly armed. The Indians remaining in the canoes could have pelted them to shreds in a few minutes. Even those on the ship had the power to resist any attempt by the newcomers to gain the decks. But the superstitious savages had already screwed themselves up to an act of unusual daring in delivering a night attack, and the appearance of boats filled with men of whose fighting qualities they had already such a lively experience quite demoralized them. They fled without attempting a counter assault. Just as negroes conjure up white demons, so did these nude Alaculofs regard with awe men who wore clothes. They were ready to kill and eat the strange beings of another race who, few in numbers and ill armed, wandered into their rock-pent fastness, but it was quite a different thing to face them in equal combat.

At last the sounds of conflict died away. The black waters closed over the dead; the last swimmer vanished into the silence. The spasmodic barking of the dog, the groaning of men lying on the decks and the shouts exchanged between Courtenay and Gray for the guidance of the boats, were the only remaining symbols of the fiercest crisis which had yet befallen the Kansas.

Elsie, wandering through a trance-like maze of vivid impressions, awoke with a start to the fact that Courtenay was giving directions for the lowering of the ship's gangway, meanwhile receiving information as to the identity of the boats beneath.

"Mr. Malcolm is in charge of the jolly-boat," Gray was saying. "Miss Baring and Mr. and Mrs. Somerville are with him. Miss Baring's maid is dead. Senor Jerrera is in my boat, Number 2. We have been on White Horse Island all this time, but we have seen nothing of the other life-boat."

That meant that two boats out of those which quitted the ship had arrived thus opportunely. Senor Jerrera was the Spanish mining engineer who had been hustled into one of the craft manned by the mutineers. And Isobel was actually sitting down there in the darkness a few feet away. How wonderful it all was! Elsie thought her heart would never cease its labored throbbing. Even yet her breath came in little gasps. How could the captain and Gray talk so coolly, as if some of the passengers and crew were returning on board the ship after an evening ashore? It was the bedizened savages who now assumed reality: the simple orders which dealt with the clearing of the falls and the lowering of a ladder became wildly fantastic.

And Christobal was saying:

"Well, Miss Maxwell, you and I can look forward to a busy night. The ship is littered with wounded men, and our newly arrived friends must be worn with fatigue."

His smooth, even sentences helped to dispel the stupor of amazement which had made her dumb. And the first reasoned thought which came to her was that the Spanish doctor had treated her with the kindness of an indulgent parent, for Elsie was far too unselfish not to be alive to the unselfishness of others.

"How good you have been to me!" she murmured. "I can never repay you. I remember now that I said dreadful things to you in the saloon. But you did not know what it meant to me when I realized that Captain Courtenay might be falling even then beneath the blows of those merciless savages. I have not had a chance to tell you that he has asked me to be his wife, and I have consented. I love him more than all the world. And you, Dr. Christobal, you who knew my father and mother, who have grown-up daughters of your own, you will wish me happiness?"

It was not easy to bear when it came, although he had guessed the truth already. But he choked back the wrath and despair which surged up in him, and said with his stately courtesy:

"I do wish you well, Elsie. No man can hope more earnestly than I that you have made the better choice."

Then he turned, with a certain abruptness which reminded her of the change in his manner she had noticed once or twice during recent days, and quitted the bridge. She sighed, and was sorry for him, knowing that he loved her.

Courtenay, who had been far too busy to pay heed to anything beyond the brief fight between the boats and the canoes, perceived now that the gangway was in position; lights were shining on both the upper and lower platforms.

He stretched out his hand, and drew Elsie to him.

"Are you alone, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Kiss me, then, and go to meet your friends. They will be aboard in less than a minute. Oh, Elsie, I thought I had seen the last of you."

"Was it so bad as that?" she murmured, a great content soothing her heart and brain at her lover's admission that he was thinking of her during the worst agony of the fray. He gave her a reassuring hug.

"You will never know how bad it was," he said. "I cannot understand how we escaped. One moment it all looks like blind chance; the next I feel like going on my knees in thankfulness for the direct intervention of Providence. Those brutes ought to have mastered us a dozen times. I almost lost faith when I heard Tollemache shout that the saloon was in danger, but I could not leave the after deck, where four of us were keeping fifty in check. The least sign of yielding would have caused an overwhelming rush. Well, all's well that ends well. And not a sailor living can squeeze his best girl and do his work at the same time. Off with you, or I shall never bring you on a voyage in my ship again."

With her soul singing a canticle of joy she passed from the bridge to the lower deck. Mr. Boyle was waiting there, holding a lantern.

"Huh!" he growled, when he saw her, "p'raps you'll believe what I tell you before your hair turns gray, if not sooner. Luck! Did any man ever have such luck as the skipper? Why, if he fell off Mong Blong he'd find a circus net rigged up to catch him."

"I agree with you so fully, Mr. Boyle," she whispered, "that I am going to marry him."

"I guessed as much," he answered. "At any rate I fancied it wouldn't be for want of axing on his part." He whirled off into a tempest of wrath because a sailor beneath had failed to keep a guide-rope taut. The occupants of the boats might have saved his life, but he would let them know that he was still chief officer for all that.

At last he stooped and gave his hand to some one who emerged from the darkness beneath.

"Glad to see you again, Miss Baring," he said gruffly. "And you, Mrs. Somerville. And you, sir," to the missionary. "We thought you'd gone under, an' good folks are scarce enough as it is."

It was a wan and broken-spirited Isobel whom Elsie led to her cabin, but notwithstanding her wretched state, her eyes quickly took in the orderly condition of the room.

"I left my clothes strewed all over the floor," she said, with a nervousness which Elsie attributed to the hardships she had undergone. "Why did you trouble to pack them away?"

Then Elsie told her of her hunt for the poudriere, and was so obviously unconcerned about any incident other than the adventures they had both experienced since they parted, that Isobel questioned her no further. A bath and a change of clothing worked marvels. Though thin and weak for want of proper food, neither Isobel nor Mrs. Somerville had suffered in health from the exposure and short fare involved by life on the island. It was broad daylight ere they could be persuaded to retire to rest, there was so much to tell and to hear.

Meanwhile, the meeting between Tollemache and Gray was full of racial subtleties.

Tollemache, stepping forward to grasp Gray's hand, felt it was incumbent on him to utter the first word.

"Had a pretty rotten time of it, I expect?" said he.

"Poisonous. And you?"

"Oh, fair. Beastly close squeak when you turned up."

Gray became more explicit when Courtenay met him in the chart-room, where the table had to be cleared of debris before some glasses and a couple of bottles of champagne could be staged.

"When those blackguards cast off from the ship," he said, "we scudded away in a sort of ocean mill-race which threatened to upset us at any moment. In fact, we gave up hope for a time, but, as the boat kept afloat, Mr. Malcolm and I managed to stir up the Chileans, and we got them to steady her with the oars. Some time before daybreak we ran into smooth water, and made out land on the port bow. In a few minutes we were ashore on a pebbly beach, in a place alive with seals. When the sun rose we found we were on a barren island, and, what was more, that one of the ship's life-boats had been upset on a reef which we just missed, and had lost all her stores, though the men had scrambled into safety. With the aid of our boat, and helped by fine weather, we raised the life-boat, and recovered some of her fittings. The water-casks and tins of food were hauled up by a chap who could dive well. We have been on that lump of rock until today, when I finally persuaded the others that unless we made for the land which we could see in the dim distance the weather would break and our food give out. The trouble with the Chileans was that they were afraid of the natives hereabouts, and preferred to wait on the off chance of a ship showing up. At last they saw that Malcolm and I were right, but we missed the full run of the tide, and were some miles from the mainland, or whatever it is, when night fell. We pushed along cautiously, found the entrance to the cove we had made out before the light failed, and were about to lay to until dawn, when we saw a rocket and heard the fog-horn. That woke us up, you bet. The Chileans pulled like mad, but when we came near enough to discover that the ship was being attacked by Indians, I had a fearful job to get my heroes to butt in. That fellow Gomez is a brick. He orated like a politician, and finally they got a move on. From what I have seen since I came aboard, I guess you were hustling about that time?"

"Yes," said Courtenay, filling a glass with wine as he heard Boyle's step without. He handed the glass to the chief when he entered.

"How many?" he asked.

"Huh! We've slung fifty-three Indians an' six of the crew overboard. There's fourteen wounded natives an' five of our men in the doctor's hands. Two Alaculofs died of funk when they set eyes on the nigger who turned up in the life-boat. They thought—well, here's chin chin to everybody. I'm thirsty."



CHAPTER XVI

CHRISTOBAL'S TEMPTATION

"By the way, what of Monsieur de Poincilit?" said Courtenay. "I saw him come aboard with Malcolm, but he dived into the saloon, and has not reappeared. Is he ill?"

Gray's mouth set like a steel trap; his eyes had a glint in them. He seemed to be unwilling to speak; when words came, they were cold and measured.

"I haven't any use for that fellow," he said. "I suppose the unpleasant story must be told sooner or later, so here goes. In the first place, Poincilit forgot that I understood Spanish, and I heard him yelping to the Chileans in the jolly-boat that if we took any more people on board we should be swamped. It was he who put the notion in their heads to cast off while you were lowering Miss Baring's maid into my arms. I tried to forget that, as he was blue-white with fear, and some fellows are not responsible for their actions when their liver melts. But I can never forget his action on the island. Yesterday morning I was just in time to stop him and four others from sneaking off in the life-boat with all our provisions."