Wyndham's Pal

"You have shot your bolt and missed," he said. "You're a cunning brute, but all the same a fool. Now get off, or I'll throw you over the wall."

Peters hesitated. His surprise was plain, and Wyndham's tense face softened to a grim smile. Peters had not reckoned on Bob. The latter advanced upon him threateningly.

"Did you think you could blackmail us?" he resumed with a hoarse laugh. "That we'd take you for a partner in order to keep you silent while we got rich? The thing's ridiculous! Now you begin to understand this, aren't you going?"

Peters said nothing and went. His mistake was obvious; he might have forced Wyndham to accept his terms, but he had misjudged Marston. When he had gone, Marston sat down, rather limply, and there was silence for a few minutes.

"Well?" said Wyndham at length.

Marston looked up. "I have got a knock, but the thing's done and there's no use in calling myself a careless fool. For all that, I ought to have seen what was going on; I'm a partner in the house."

"And if you had seen?" Wyndham asked.

"I'd have stopped the business and brought you away."

"It's possible. You're a resolute fellow, Bob. But what are you going to do about it now?"

"Put things straight; as far as money can put them straight," said Marston, quietly. "The cost doesn't matter. It's lucky I am rich."

"Then you don't mean to break the partnership and give me up?"

"Certainly not," said Marston in a surprised voice. "We are partners for good and bad, and Mabel is Flora's friend. When we started for Africa, she told me my job was to stand by you."

Wyndham laughed, a bitter laugh. "It looks as if I didn't cheat Mabel when I cheated all the rest. But you had better let me go before your staunchness costs you too much."

"I'm going to stick to you," Marston declared. "I undertook the job; there's no more to be said." He paused and resumed quietly: "How did you get into Rupert Wyndham's power?"

Wyndham's grimness vanished. He looked embarrassed and moved. "You're a very good sort, Bob. I don't know if I did get into his power; anyhow, not at first. I rather think ambition carried me away. You have not known poverty; I doubt if you'll understand."

"I'll try," said Marston, and Wyndham went on:

"The house was bankrupt when I got control, and I was in love with Flora. Perhaps you think it was dishonorable to tell her so. Well, I haven't your scruples and we Wyndhams like a risk. The worst was, I let her run a risk she didn't know. We met the Bat at the lagoon and he showed me how I could get rich. He knew me; I didn't know him at the beginning. Can't you see the situation? I'd won the girl I loved, but I must support my wife. I couldn't force her to bear hardship because she loved me, and, for her sake, I must satisfy her friends. Well, I saw and seized my chance, and almost before I knew I'd gone so far I could not draw back."

"Did you want to draw back?" Marston asked.

Wyndham gave him a curious smile. "You're cleverer than people think, Bob. Sometimes I was sorry I had begun, but I imagine I would not have stopped if I could. I meant to get rich; to give Flora a high place, and – though the statement looks ironical – to justify myself. Well, I went on until bad luck sent Peters to pull me up."

Marston pondered for a moment or two. "Now I understand why the witches in Macbeth made me think about the Bat; they tempted him with lying promises. But I'm not much of a philosopher and we have the Bat to reckon on. Peters doesn't count."

"Doesn't he count?" Wyndham asked.

"Not at all," said Marston. "When he told me his secret, he lost the power to bully you. The fellow's a fool; he thought me greedy."

"But he can tell others, Larrinaga, for example."

"That's not important," said Marston quietly. "We don't want to earn more money by helping the Bat. We're going to put things straight, and if Larrinaga's government has a just claim on us, we must pay."

"After all, the Bat's my uncle," Wyndham remarked.

"Yes," said Marston. "It complicates things. We must go out again and get him away."

"Get him away? The man is powerful. I doubt if the government can put him down."

"For all that we're going to try."

"You're an obstinate fellow, Bob. We'll talk about it again. There is somebody else Peters might tell."

"Flora? He'll be too late. You must tell her now."

For a moment or two Wyndham's mouth set firm and the sweat stood on his forehead. Then he said quietly, "It will be a hard job, desperately hard; all the same, I suppose it can't be put off. Rupert Wyndham and the powers he stands for have cheated me, but I must pay."

Marston made a sign of agreement. "When you have paid, you're free, and can begin again."

Then he turned and saw Flora in the narrow path between the bushes. Her face was white, but her eyes were gentle when she looked at him. "Thank you, Bob! We owe you much," she said.

Marston pulled himself together and gave her a friendly smile. Then he touched Wyndham's arm, as if to encourage him, and left them alone.

CHAPTER VII

WYNDHAM PLEADS GUILTY

When Marston had gone Flora sat down on the bench. She was pale and trembled. Wyndham, looking very grim, leaned against the wall. They were quiet for a moment or two, and then he asked:

"How much did you hear?"

"I heard enough," said Flora, with an effort for calm. "I don't understand it all, but I must understand. I heard Bob's voice, sharp and angry, and came to see if you were quarreling with the strange little man. Then I stopped where the shrubs are thick. Perhaps I oughtn't – "

"It doesn't matter," Wyndham replied. "Bob urged that you must be told and I think I meant to tell you anyhow. When one is found out, it's better to plead guilty. Well, what do you want to know?"

Flora turned her head. His stern coldness hurt. She thought he feared her judgment would be merciless. Harry did not know her yet.

"Well?" he said again.

"I must know all. You helped the man they call the Bat? You sent him goods he needed; drugs among other things, although you knew he would use some to poison people and make the superstitious negroes think him a magician?"

"Yes," said Wyndham. "At least, I gave him drugs. I don't altogether know how he used the stuff."

"He poisoned the explorers who went into the bush."

"It's possible," said Wyndham. "I think that's all."

"Still you knew he was cunning and cruel. You knew he killed people who wouldn't obey him and he used magic."

"I don't know much about Voodoo and can't state if it's magic or tricks. However, I imagine the Bat did use it against people who disputed his rule."

"He gave you valuable goods; you were getting rich," Flora resumed. Then she paused and added in a gentler voice: "He gave you pearls; but you sent me none, although Bob brought some for Mabel. You said they were unlucky."

"It looks as if I was a romantic sentimentalist. Anyhow, I didn't want you to wear pearls I got from the Bat."

"Yet you were willing to trade with him! You gave him your support!"

"I did," said Wyndham grimly. "For a tempting price. Now my luck has turned and I won't get the price. My reward has vanished when it was in my hands. Nothing is left."

Flora pondered. In a sense, she thought he exaggerated, because much was left. All the same, she was glad he had been cheated and the reward for his wrongdoing had gone. He might have wanted to keep it, and her refusal to share it might have separated them. Still she would not think about this yet. She must break down his stern calm and much depended on the line she took.

"You misjudged me and perhaps that accounted for your giving way," she said. "You thought I hadn't pluck enough to marry you when you were poor? My dear, I loved you and knew you were not rich!"

"You hadn't known poverty. There was another thing; your father made stipulations and of course he was justified. I was forced to satisfy him and your friends. Would you have liked them to pity you for a romantic fool whom a common adventurer had carried away?"

"Ah," said Flora, "you didn't know my friends much better than you know me! Mabel's my friend and she let her lover go away. I think it hurt Bob when he found out what you had done; but has he turned from you?"

Wyndham said nothing and she resumed: "However, all this is not important now. You can't go on. What are you going to do?"

"It looks as if Bob had made some plans for me. I don't know yet if I'll consent. My plan is simpler and would save him trouble and risk. It depends on you if I carry it out."

Flora gave him a quick glance, for his manner was baffling. He looked stern and his mouth was set.

"How does it depend on me?" she asked.

"I cheated you and your father and you have found me out. You know how deep in the mud I've gone and it wouldn't be strange if you thought I might go deeper. I expect you have lost all trust in me. Well, if the shock's too great, you must give me up. I'll drop out, vanish like my uncle, and trouble you no more."

Flora laughed, a hoarse, emotional laugh that shook her and brought the blood to her skin.

"You thought I would give you up? You have been afraid of this since you saw Peters at the church and you dropped the ring? Oh, but you are very dull! I love you and it was for my sake you did wrong. Well, I am not afraid to share the punishment. If I could save you, I'd bear it all. The thing that hurts is, you doubted if I was brave enough."

"I knew your pluck; you gave me proof when you married me. For all that, I knew your hatred of shabbiness and wrong. I'm an unsuccessful criminal."

"All the same you are my husband," said Flora quietly.

Wyndham looked hard at her and hesitated.

"My dear," he said, "I cannot urge this claim. It would hurt less to leave you than try to keep you if you shrank."

"Then you doubt me yet?"

"No. I'm ashamed and humbled. I don't know what I ought to do, or what I ought to say."

"There is not much to be said, but it is difficult. Come here, Harry, and give me your hand. One hates to talk like a moralizing prig and it does no good; but you have gone down hill for me and I want to help you back."

Wyndham came to the bench and she took his hand in hers. "I am your wife and will not let you go," she went on. "Still you must give up the money you have earned and put straight the harm you have done. It doesn't matter if this makes us poor. I can go without much you have given me. I'd be glad to go without!"

"Ah," he said with strong emotion, "I didn't know you, Flora! Although you hate my offense, you mean to stick to me?"

"My dear! I expect the temptation was very strong and at the beginning you did not know all you did. It was rather horrible to help a renegade outcast to plot against civilized rule and try to put in its place superstitious cruelty. But that's done with. We must think how we can make good."

"I can't make good at my cost. You and Bob must pay, and I cheated Bob."

"Bob will bear you no grudge and I want to help."

"Very well," said Wyndham, with forced quietness. "You have given me a chance I don't deserve to get straight again, and I'd be a meaner brute than I am if I let it go." He got up and his face was very resolute. "Now I'll look for Bob."

He went off and Flora, although badly shaken, was satisfied. She had saved her husband from the Bat and from himself. He had not protested much; on the whole he had been reserved and cold, but she knew he was moved and one could trust him when he looked like that. She began to feel comforted and get back her calm. The soft splash of languid waves on the rocks beyond the terrace was soothing. Except for this, all was very quiet and the quietness steadied her.

By-and-by she heard a step, and looking up, saw Peters had come back. He smiled, but his smile was cruel and she shrank from him with a quick half-conscious movement. Peters took off his hat.

"Mrs. Wyndham, I believe?" he said.

"I am Mrs. Wyndham," Flora replied. "What do you want?"

"A few minutes' talk. I imagine you will be interested."

Flora hated him. He knew Harry's offense and meant to use his power; perhaps to demand money and perhaps for revenge. He had power, but since she and Bob knew Harry's guilt, not as much as he thought. She wanted to make him feel the scorn and loathing he excited. All the same, she might find out something useful if she led him on. He was an unscrupulous antagonist and she meant to fight for her husband. She made a vague sign of agreement and Peters sat down on some steps in the terrace wall.

"Your father holds an important post and your friends are well-known people," he began. "I expect you value their rather exclusive society."

"What has this to do with you?" Flora asked.

Peters made a deprecating gesture. "Wyndhams' has now some standing on the exchange; the house's credit is pretty good, and people are beginning to think your husband a clever business man. Wyndham is clever, but for a man to build up a business he must be known for something else. If he wants to command people's trust, he must keep certain rules."

"I suppose that is so," Flora agreed with forced carelessness.

"Very well," said Peters. "I'm afraid Wyndhams' new prosperity rests on an unsafe foundation. A statement about their trade on the Caribbean would shake it badly; in fact, I doubt if the house would stand the shock. A merchant must enjoy his customers' confidence and confidence is soon destroyed."

"You imply you could destroy the confidence people have in Wyndhams'?"

"It is possible. For all that, I hesitate – You see, you, and to some extent Commodore Chisholm, would be involved in your husband's fall. But I needn't labor this. You know how prosperous conventional people treat friends who lose their place."

Flora struggled for calm, but her eyes flashed and the blood came to her skin.

"Oh," she said, forgetting the part she meant to play, "you want a bribe? Money to be silent? You could not rob my husband, so you came to me! You think I am weaker and you can work on my fears?"

"It looks as if he had told you something," Peters remarked coolly. "I do not think he has told you all."

There was a step on the path behind them and as Flora turned Marston advanced. His face was red and very grim. Bob was generally calm, but he was savage now.

"Suppose you leave the thing to me? I saw the fellow coming here," he said to Flora, and stopped in front of Peters. "You haven't gone yet? I had some trouble to get rid of you before, and don't mean to be bothered by you again. This is the last annoyance you will give us."

Moving forward deliberately, he seized the other and swung him off his feet. Peters was short and light, for fever had worn him thin; Marston was big and powerful. He got a good hold where the other's clothes were slack, and lifting him with a strong effort, went up the steps. Peters kicked and struggled. Marston gasped and when his hat fell off Flora laughed. She was moved by a reaction after the strain. When Marston reached the top step he held Peters over the edge of the wall.

"The tide's low," he said hoarsely, with obvious disappointment. "I was going to throw you into the water."

"If you drop me, somebody would find me on the rocks," Peters replied in a breathless voice, and Flora tried to stop her wild laughter. Her control was vanishing and the scene was ludicrous. Peters had looked grotesque while he wriggled in Bob's grasp and now his coolness supplied a last touch of grim humor.

"I don't know if it's worth while to go to jail for you and perhaps it's not," Marston gasped. He put Peters down and shook him savagely. "For a blackmailer, you're a poor sort of fool. Can't you see yet how you've muddled things? You can't tell Mrs. Wyndham more than she knows, and I won't pay you to tell nobody else. You'll get no bribe for letting Wyndhams' carry on the lagoon trade, because the trade has stopped for good. It ought to be obvious that your hold on us has gone and now you're going too."

He paused and seizing Peter's shoulders turned him round and half pushed and half threw him across the terrace. Peters fell into a clump of shrubs, and getting up, stole away in silence. Then Marston turned to Flora.

"Sorry! I expect you don't approve, but I felt I must let myself go. When people make me think about that confounded lagoon I get savage."

"I do approve," said Flora, trying to be calm. "Perhaps it wasn't really humorous, but I was forced to laugh. Did you meet Harry? He went to look for you."

"No," said Marston. "I want to see him, and after this little exploit expect you'll be glad to get rid of me. However, I think you have got rid of the other fellow."

He found Wyndham writing a letter in the hotel smoking-room, and sitting down opposite, waited until he looked up.

"I suppose you told Flora all about it," Marston remarked.

"I did. Your advice was good."

"It was better than I thought. If you had waited, Peters would have given her his story before she knew yours. I found him trying to begin it a few minutes since."

"Ah," said Wyndham, "it looks as if I had run some risk! After all, I don't know." He paused and resumed with emotion: "I admitted everything, but she trusts me yet; I think she would have trusted me had I put my confession off. It's strange, but I didn't know how staunch my wife is. We'll let this go. What did you do with Peters?"

Marston laughed. "I came near to throwing him over the wall. Held him over the edge and wanted to let him drop; but the brute suggested that somebody would find him on the rocks. I saw the force of this, because the consequences would have been awkward now we have a big job on hand. It's plain that you will need me."

"I do need you. It's lucky I have such a partner. I've got to make restitution and can't do so at my proper cost. Yet I've no claim; I cheated you, as I cheated my wife. I'm an unsuccessful rogue and didn't let my scruples bother me until I was found out."

"That's sentimental extravagance," Marston said with some embarrassment. "Anyhow, I am your partner and your responsibilities are mine. I don't disown my debts."

"The debts are heavy. I ran them up, without your knowing."

"We can pay," said Marston, smiling. "It won't break us; I'm pretty rich and mean to see you out. You can count on my help and my money; in fact, on all I can give. Now that's done with. There's no more to be said."

Wyndham gave him a quick, grateful glance. "Thanks! You're rash, but I must try not to disappoint you. Friendship like yours is rare."

When Marston went off, he sat for a time, looking straight in front. He felt slack and strangely humbled, but was conscious of a new resolve. Although he had gone far down hill, it was, perhaps, not too late to stop. The climb back would be long and hard; he could never reach his wife's and his friend's level. All the same, he meant to front the ascent. They had borne much for him, he must, so far as he was able, try to repay them.

CHAPTER VIII

UP HILL

The smoking-room of the Marine Hotel at Carmeltown was crowded with yachtsmen on the evening after the channel regatta. Marston and Wyndham occupied a small table, the former trying to read a newspaper while the latter looked about. The big room echoed with voices, a haze of tobacco smoke drifted round the pillars, and now and then a peal of laughter marked the end of an Irish yachtsman's tale. For all that, Wyndham's face was rather grim, and Marston, looking up by-and-by, thought he was brooding.

"Hallo! Here's Elliot," he exclaimed. "S'pose he came across on the mailboat. I heard her whistle not long since. Thought he was going to stop and see if they could salve Deva. Anyhow, I'd like to hear about the collision and it looks as if he was making for us."

"Yes," said Wyndham. "I imagine he wants to see me."

Elliot crossed the floor, stopping now and then when somebody spoke to him, and after a time reached Marston's table, where he sat down.

"I've been trying to get to you for some minutes, but the Irishmen wouldn't let me pass. The news of my bad luck soon got across," he remarked.

"We didn't get much news," said Marston. "What about the boat?"

"She's gone; cut down to the bilge and sunk in six fathoms. No chance of salvage and the navigation board is going to blow her up."

Marston said he was sorry and asked about the collision.

"To begin with, I want a drink," said Elliot, who called a waiter and then resumed: "It was dark and hazy, and we were creeping up to the anchorage at Kingstown with all sail set. I was at the tiller, but the wind was very light and she would hardly steer; the tide was carrying her along. Jevons, looking out under the boom, said he saw a steamer's lights, but just then I heard a North-Wall boat in the fog. You know the noise they make when they're steaming fast, and the fog's pretty bad when those boats slow up. I knew she wasn't far off when I saw her lights; red, white, and green all together. That meant we had to do something quick."

Marston nodded. When a steamer's three lights are seen she is heading direct for the observer.

"Our flare wasn't handy, and the first match broke," Elliot resumed. "Reckon I was awkward and not very cool. However, I got a light and it was a relief when her whistle indicated that she was changing her course; but while I was fumbling with the matches I forgot the other boat. So did Jevons; he owned it afterwards. The North-Wall man went past us, like a train, lights all over the passenger decks and a four-foot wave rolling off the bows. She left us dazzled and rather shaken, and then Jevons shouted that the other fellow was close ahead."

Elliot stopped and drained his glass, and when he went on his voice was hoarse. "We were crossing her bows, close-hauled on the starboard tack. Our business, of course, was to carry on, but our lights were low and not very bright, and as a rule, it's prudent to give a steamer room. Anyhow, I shoved down the helm to bring her round, and told Jevons to get out the big oar when I found her slow. The wind was light and she was plunging on the North-Wall boat's wake. She came headto, and then a roller hit her bows and she fell off. Jevons was trying to pull her round, and for two or three moments I saw the steamer's forecastle. She was a big, clumsy craft, going light, and looked as high as a house.

"Then there was a crash and the mast went. I saw our side deck crumble and the other's stem cut through to the cabin top. Mast and boom were over the side, and when the round of her bow filled our cockpit I knew it was time to go. By good luck, we had towed the dinghy and the steamer held up Deva until we got on board. Then as we cut the painter the old boat broke away, and the steamer went on, over the top of her. I imagine she stopped, because we heard her whistle in the fog, but we'd had enough of her and pulled for the beach. We landed at Kingstown, and I think that's all."

Marston sympathized and ordered drinks. Elliot drained his glass and turned to Wyndham.

"Well," he said, "she was insured and I want another boat. What's your price for Red Rose?"

"Red Rose is not for sale," Marston interposed.

"Then why did Forwood tell me you wanted an offer?"

Marston looked at Wyndham, who nodded. "It's all right, Bob; I'm going to sell." Then he turned to Elliot and stated a sum.

"A moderate price!" the other remarked. "I'll admit it's less than I thought. Is she sound?"

"She is not," Wyndham replied. "Port side's weak where the strain of the rigging comes; she needs some new timbers. The covering board ought to be relaid all round. Keel's shaky aft; the deadwood ought to be lifted – "

He indicated the repairs he thought necessary and Elliot looked at him with surprise.

"Since you want to sell, aren't you taking a rather unusual line?"

Wyndham smiled. "I allowed for defects when I fixed the price. The carpenter's job will be expensive, but if it's properly done, the boat will afterwards be nearly as good as new. I think you can rely on this."

Marston gave his partner a puzzled glance and Elliot said, "After your frankness, I'll buy her and take my chance."

"I imagine it's a safe investment," Wyndham rejoined.