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For the voyage in the man-of-war they were now safe; yet a few more days of peril, activity, and presence of mind in San Francisco, and the whole horrid tale was blotted out; and Wicks again became Kirkup, and Goddedaal became Carthew men beyond all shot of possible suspicion, men who had never heard of the Flying Scud, who had never been in sight of Midway Reef.
Tommy sat up, watched him a while, and slowly followed his example; and Carthew, remembering his last thoughts of the night before, hastened to the cabin. Mac was awake; perhaps had not slept. Over his head Goddedaal's canary twittered shrilly from its cage. "How are you?" asked Carthew. "Me arrum's broke," returned Mac; "but I can stand that. It's this place I can't aboide.
"But I thought you'd done with women!" "So did I, sir. But the question always is, Have women done with you? I was helping her to lift pictures down yesterday, and she was standing on a chair. And something came over me. And there you are before you know where you are, sir, if you understand what I mean." "Perfectly, Carthew. But who is it?" "Machin, sir.
Some lowing of cattle and much calling of birds alone disturbed the stillness, and even the little hamlet, which clustered at the gates, appeared to hold its breath in awe of its great neighbour, like a troop of children who should have strayed into a king's anteroom. The "Carthew Arms," the small, but very comfortable inn, was a mere appendage and outpost of the family whose name it bore.
"Here, sir," answered a shaking voice; and the poor invisible caitiff called on him by name, and poured forth out of the darkness an endless, garrulous appeal for mercy. A sense of danger, of daring, had alone nerved Carthew to enter the forecastle; and here was the enemy crying and pleading like a frightened child.
On that stormy night of his return, Carthew had told his story; the old lady had more upon her mind than mere bereavements; and among the mental pictures on which she looked, as she walked staring down the path, was one of Midway Island and the Flying Scud. Mr. Denman heard my inquiries with discomposure, but informed me the shyster was already gone.
If Carthew is on shore, as I feel sure he is, the others won't know you from me. I agree with you that I cannot afford to risk my life just now, and yet we must search that brigantine." "Me go, sar," Dominique, who was standing by, said suddenly. "Me take two black fellows in dinghy. Dey no fire at us.
As I told you, he made us go down at once. I could see that he was furiously angry and excited. The steward came to our cabin early in the morning, and said that Mr. Carthew requested that we would dress and come up at once.
It's one of them cars as anybody can drive if you understand what I mean. I mean anybody can make it go. But of course that's only the beginning of what I call driving." "Just so," agreed Mr. Prohack, drawing by his smile a very faint smile from Carthew. "My son seems to think it's about the best car on the market."
Goddedaal, and stick to the old man's to mine, I mean; only I ain't going to write it up, for reasons of my own. You are. You're going to sit down right here and fill it in the way I tell you." "How to explain the loss of mine?" asked Carthew. "You never kept one," replied the captain. "Gross neglect of duty. You'll catch it." "And the change of writing?" resumed Carthew.
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