The Courage of Captain Plum Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  MARION

  At Nathaniel's astonishing words Neil stood as though struck suddenlydumb.

  "Don't you see what a very simple case it is?" he continued, enjoyingthe other's surprised silence. "You plan to kill Strang to keep Marionfrom marrying him. Well, I will hunt up Marion, put her in a bag ifnecessary, and carry her to my ship. Isn't that better and safer andjust as sure as murder?"

  The excitement had gone out of Neil's face. The flush slowly faded fromhis cheeks and in his eyes there gleamed something besides themalevolence of a few moments before. As Nathaniel stepped back from himhalf laughing and puffing clouds of smoke from his pipe Marion's brotherthrust his hands into his pockets with an exclamation that forcefullyexpressed his appreciation of Captain Plum's scheme.

  "I never thought of that," he added, after a moment. "By Heaven, it willbe easy--"

  "So easy that I tell you again I am ashamed of you for not havingthought of it!" cried Nathaniel. "The first thing is to get safelyaboard my ship."

  "We can do that within an hour."

  "And to-night--where will we find Marion?"

  "At home," said Neil. "We live near Obadiah. You must have seen thehouse as you came out into the clearing this morning from the forest."

  Nathaniel smiled as he thought of his suspicions of the old councilor.

  "It couldn't be better situated for our work," he said. "Does the forestrun down to the lake on Obadiah's side of the island?"

  "Clear to the beach."

  Neil's face betrayed a sudden flash of doubt.

  "I believe that our place has been watched for some time," he explained."I am sure that it is especially guarded at night and that no personleaves or enters it without the knowledge of Strang. I am certain thatMarion is aware of this surveillance although she professes to be whollyignorant of it. It may cause us trouble."

  "Can you reach the house without being observed?"

  "After midnight--yes."

  "Then there is no cause for alarm," declared Nathaniel. "If necessary Ican bring ten men into the edge of the woods. Two can approach the houseas quietly as one and I will go with you. Once there you can tell Marionthat your life depends on her accompanying you to Obadiah's. I believeshe will go. If she won't--" He stretched out his arms as if inanticipation of the burden they might hold. "If she won't--I'll help youcarry her!"

  "And meanwhile," said Neil, "Arbor Croche's men--"

  "Will be as dead as herring floaters if they show up!" he cried, leapingtwo feet off the ground in his enthusiasm. "I've got twelve of thedamnedest fighters aboard my ship that ever lived and ten of them willbe in the edge of the woods!"

  Neil's eyes were shining with something that made Nathaniel turn his ownto the loading of his pipe.

  "Captain Plum, I hope I will be able to repay you for this," he said.There was a trembling break in his voice and for a moment Nathaniel didnot look up. His own heart was near bursting with the new life thatthrobbed within it. When he raised his eyes to his companion's faceagain there was a light in them that spoke almost as plainly as words.

  "You haven't accepted my price, yet, Neil," he replied quietly. "I askedyou if you'd--be--a sort of brother--"

  Neil sprang to his side with a fervor that knocked the pipe out of hishand.

  "I swear that! And if Marion doesn't--"

  Suddenly he jerked himself into a listening attitude.

  "Hark!"

  For a moment the two ceased to breathe. The sound had come to them both,low, distant. After it there fell a brief hush. Then again, as theystared questioningly into each other's eyes, it rolled faintly into theswamp--the deep, far baying of a hound.

  "Ah!" exclaimed Neil, drawing back with a deep breath. "I thought theywould do it!"

  "The bloodhounds!"

  Horror, not fear, sent an involuntary shiver through Nathaniel.

  "They can't reach us!" assured Neil. There was the glitter of triumph inhis eyes. "This was to have been my way of escape after I killed Strang.A quarter of a mile deeper in the swamp I have a canoe." He picked upthe gun and box and began forcing his way through the dense alder alongthe edge of the stream. "I'd like to stay and murder those dogs," hecalled back, "but it wouldn't be policy."

  For a time the crashing of their bodies through the dense growth of theswamp drowned all other sound. Five minutes later Neil stopped on theedge of a wide bog. The hounds were giving fierce tongue in the foreston their left and their nearness sent Nathaniel's hand to his pistol.Neil saw the movement and laughed.

  "Don't like the sound, eh?" he said. "We get used to it on BeaverIsland. They're just about at the place where they tore little JimSchredder to pieces a few weeks back. Schredder tried to kill one of theelders for stealing his wife while he was away on a night's fishingtrip."

  He plunged to his knees in the bog.

  "They caught him just before he reached the swamp," he flung back overhis shoulder. "Two minutes more and he would have been safe."

  Nathaniel, sinking to his knees in the mire, forged up beside him.

  "Lord!" he exclaimed, as a breath of air brought a sudden burst ofblood-curdling cries to them. "If they'd loosed them on us sooner--"

  He shivered at the terrible grimace Neil turned on him.

  "Had they slipped the leashes when we escaped, we would have been withpoor Schredder now, Captain Plum. By the way--" he stopped a moment towipe the water and mud from his face, "--three days after they coveredSchredder's bones with muck out there, the elder took Schredder's wife!She was too pretty for a fisherman." He started on, but halted suddenlywith uplifted hand. No longer could they hear the baying of the dogs."They've struck the creek!" said Neil. "Listen!"

  After an interval of silence there came a long mournful howl.

  "Treed--treed or in the water, that's what the howling means. HowCroche and his devils are hustling now!"

  A curse was mingled with Neil's breath as he forced his way through thebog. Twenty rods farther on they came to a slime covered bit of water onwhich was floating a dugout canoe. Immense relief replaced the anxietyin Nathaniel's face as he climbed into it. At that moment he was willingto fight a hundred men for Marion's sake, but snakes and bogs andbloodhounds were entirely outside his pale of argument and he exhibitedno hesitation in betraying this fact to his companion. For a quarter ofa mile Neil forced the dugout through water viscid with slime and rottedsubstance before the clearer channel of the creek was reached. As theyprogressed the stream constantly became deeper and more navigable untilit finally began to show signs of a current and a little later, underthe powerful impetus of Neil's paddle, the canoe shot from between thedense shores into the open lake. A mile away Nathaniel discerned thepoint of forest beyond which the _Typhoon_ was hidden. He pointed outthe location of the ship to his companion.

  "You are sure there is a small boat waiting for you on the point?" askedNeil.

  "Yes, since early morning."

  Neil was absorbed in thought for some time as he drove the canoe throughthe tall rice grass that grew thick along the edge of the shore.

  "How would it be if I landed you on the point and met you to-night atObadiah's?" he asked suddenly. "It is probable that after we get Marionaboard your ship I will not return to the island again, and it is quitenecessary that I run down the coast for a couple of miles--for--" He didnot finish his reason, but added: "I can make the whole distance in thisrice so there is no danger of being seen. Or you might lie off the pointyonder and I would join you early this evening."

  "That would be a better plan if we must separate," said Nathaniel, whosevoice betrayed the reluctance with which he assented to the project. Hehad guessed shrewdly at Neil's motive. "Is it possible that we may haveanother young lady passenger?" he asked banteringly.

  There was no answering humor to this in Neil's eyes.

  "I wish we might!" he said quietly.

  "We can!" exclaimed Nathaniel. "My ship--"

  "It is impossible. I am speaking of Winnsome. Arbo
r Croche's house is inthe heart of the town and guarded by dogs. I doubt if she would go,anyway. She has always been like a little sister to Marion and me andshe has come to believe--something--as we do. I hate to leave her."

  "Obadiah told me about her mother," ventured Nathaniel. "He said thatsome day Winnsome will be a queen."

  "I knew her mother," replied Neil, as though he had not heardNathaniel's last words. He looked frankly into the other's face. "Iworshipped her!"

  "Oh-h-h!"

  "From a distance," he hastened. "She was as pure as Winnsome is now.Little Winn looks like her. Some day she will be as beautiful."

  "She is beautiful now."

  "But she is a mere child. Why, it seems only a year ago that I wastoting her about on my shoulders! And--by George, that was a year beforeher mother died! She is sixteen now."

  Nathaniel laughed softly.

  "To-morrow she will be making love, Neil, and before you know it shewill be married and have a family of her own. I tell you she is awoman--and if you are not a fool you will take her away with Marion."

  With a powerful stroke of his paddle Neil brought the canoe in to theshore.

  "There!" he whispered. "You have only to cross this point to reach yourboat." He stretched out his long arm and in the silence the two shookhands. "If you should happen to think of a way--that we might getWinnsome--" he added, coloring.

  The sudden grip of his companion's fingers made him flinch.

  "We must!" said Nathaniel.

  He climbed ashore and watched Neil until he had disappeared in the wildrice. Then he turned into the woods. He looked at his watch and saw thatit was only two o'clock. He was conscious of no fatigue; he was notconscious of hunger. To him the whole world had suddenly opened withglorious promise and in the still depths of the forest he felt likesinging out his rejoicing. He had never stopped to ask himself whatmight be the end of this passion that had overwhelmed him; he lived onlyin the present, in the knowledge that Marion was not a wife, and that itwas he whom fate had chosen for her deliverance. He reasoned nothingbeyond the sweet eyes that had called upon him, that had burned theirgratitude, their hope and their despair upon his soul; nothing beyondthe thought that she would soon be free from the mysterious influence ofthe Mormon king and that for days and nights after that she would be onthe same ship with him. He had emptied the pockets of the coat he hadgiven Neil and now he brought forth the old letter which Obadiah hadrescued from the sands. He read it over again as he sat for a fewmoments in the cool of the forest and there was no trouble in his facenow. It was from a girl. He had known that girl, years ago, as Neil knewWinnsome; in years of wandering he had almost forgotten her--until thisletter came. It had brought many memories back to him with shockingclearness. The old folk were still in the little home under the hill;they received his letters; they received the money he sent them eachmonth--but they wanted _him_. The girl wrote with merciless candor. Hehad been away four years and it was time for him to return. She toldhim why. She wrote what they, in their loving fear of inflicting pain,would never have dared to say. At the end, in a postscript, she hadasked for his congratulations on her approaching marriage.

  To Nathaniel this letter had been a torment. He saw the truth as he hadnever seen it before--that his place was back there in Vermont, with hisfather and mother; and that there was something unpleasant in thinkingof the girl as belonging to another. But now matters had changed. Theletter was a hope and inspiration to him and he smoothed it out withtender care. What a refuge that little home among the Vermont hillswould make for Marion! He trembled at the thought and his heart sangwith the promise of it as he went his way again through the thick growthof the woods.

  It was half an hour before he came out upon the beach. Eagerly hescanned the sea. The _Typhoon_ was nowhere in sight and for an instantthe gladness that had been in his heart gave place to a chilling fear.But the direction of the wind reassured him. Casey had probably movedbeyond the jutting promontory, that swung in the form of a cart wheelfrom the base of the point, that he might have sea room in case ofsomething worse than a stiff breeze. But where was the small boat? Withevery step adding to his anxiety Nathaniel hurried along the narrow rimof beach. He went to the very tip of the point which reached out likethe white forefinger of, a lady's hand into the sea; he passed the spotwhere he had lain concealed the preceding day; his breath came fasterand faster; he ran, and called softly, and at last halted in the arch ofthe cart wheel with the fear full-flaming in his breast. Over all thosemiles of sea there was no sign of the sloop. From end to end of thepoint there was no boat. What did it mean? Breathlessly he tore his waythrough the strip of forest on the promontory until all Lake Michiganto the south lay before his eyes. The _Typhoon_ was gone! Was itpossible that Casey had abandoned hope of Nathaniel's return and wasalready lying off St. James with shotted gun? The thought sent a shiverof despair through him. He passed to the opposite side of the point andfollowed it foot by foot, but there was no sign of life, no distantflash of white that might have been the canvas of the sloop _Typhoon_.

  There was only one thing for him to do--wait. So he went to hishiding-place of the day before and watched the sea with staring eyes. Anhour passed and his still aching vision saw no sign of sail; twohours--and the sun was falling in a blinding glare over the Wisconsinwilderness. At last he sprang to his feet with a hopeless cry and stoodfor a few moments undecided. Should he wait until night with the hope ofattracting the attention of Neil and joining him in his canoe or shouldhe hasten in the direction of St. James? In the darkness he might missNeil, unless he kept up a constant shouting, which would probably bringthe Mormons down upon him; if he went to St. James there was apossibility of reaching Casey. He still had faith in Obadiah and he wassure that the old man would help him to reach his ship; he might evenassist him in his scheme of getting Marion from the island.

  He would go to the councilor's. Having once decided, Nathaniel turned inthe direction of the town, avoiding the use of the path which he andObadiah had taken, but following in the forest near enough to use it asa guide. He was confident that Arbor Croche and his sheriffs wereconfining their man-hunt to the swamp, but in spite of this belief heexercised extreme caution, stopping to listen now and then, with onehand always near his pistol. A quiet gloom filled the forest and by thetree-tops he marked the going down of the sun. Nathaniel's ears achedwith their strain of listening for the rumbling roar that would tell ofCasey's attack on St. James.

  Suddenly he heard a crackling in the underbrush ahead of him, a soundthat came not from the strain of listening for the rumbling roar and ina moment he had dodged into the concealment of the huge roots of anoverturned tree, drawn pistol in hand. Whatever object was approachingcame slowly, as if hesitating at each step--a cautious, stealthyadvance, it struck Nathaniel, and he cocked his weapon. Directly infront of him, half a stone's throw away, was a dense growth of hazel andhe could see the tops of the slender bushes swaying. Twice this movementceased and the second time there came a crashing of brush and a faintcry. For many minutes after that there was absolute silence. Was it thecry of an animal that he had heard--or of a man? In either case thecreature who made it had fallen in the thicket and was lying there asstill as if dead. For a quarter of an hour Nathaniel waited andlistened. He could no longer have seen the movement of bushes in thegathering night-gloom of the forest but his ears were strained to catchthe slightest sound from the direction of the mysterious thing that laywithin less than a dozen rods of him. Slowly he drew himself out fromthe shelter of the roots and advanced step by step. Half way to thethicket a stick cracked loudly under his foot and as the sound startledthe dead quiet of the forest with pistol-shot clearness there cameanother cry from the dense hazel, a cry which was neither that of mannor animal but of a woman; and with an answering shout Nathaniel sprangforward to meet there in the edge of the thicket the white face andoutstretched arms of Marion. The girl was swaying on her feet. In herface there was a pallor that even in his instant's glance sent a chillof
horror through the man and as she staggered toward him, half falling,her lips weakly forming his name Nathaniel leaped to her and caught herclose in his arms. In that moment something seemed to burst within himand flood his veins with fire. Closer he held the girl, and heavier heknew that she was becoming in his arms. Her head was upon his breast,his face was crushed in her hair, he felt her throbbing and breathingagainst him and his lips quivered with the words that were bursting forfreedom in his soul. But first there came the girl's own whisperedbreath--"Neil--where is Neil?"

  "He is gone--gone from the island!"

  She had become a dead weight now and so he knelt on the ground with her,her head still upon his breast, her eyes closed, her arms fallen to herside. And as Nathaniel looked into the face from which all life seemedto have fled he forgot everything but the joy of this moment--forgot allin life but this woman against his breast. He kissed her soft mouth andthe closed eyes until the eyes themselves opened again and gazed at himin a startled, half understanding way, until he drew his head far backwith the shame of what he had dared to do flaming in his face.

  And as for another moment he held her thus, feeling the quivering lifereturning in her, there came to him through that vast forest stillnessthe distant deep-toned thunder of a great gun.

  "That's Casey!" he whispered close down to the girl's face. His voicewas almost sobbing in its happiness. "That's Casey--firing on St.James!"