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Bedient comprehended this descent; even wondered how far down a man could go and live. It was the first thing that ever mastered him. The temptation to leave Framtree and to take even a flying trip to India since New York was not for him this was tangible, and he whipped it, though the conflict used up all his power.
Ten minutes passed before the gunboat, following doggedly, and whipping her light over sea, suddenly uncovered the dark from a big tramp steamer, aimed at the Inlet. For an instant it was lost again, but the searchlight swept back, groped until the tramp was caught, and this time held in all her unlit wickedness. "Framtree," said Bedient, "I believe we are about to lose our convoy "
By this time, however, Bedient was willing to grant that The Pleiad, and even Coral City, formed a nervous system of which Celestino Rey was the brain.... He had given up hope of writing a note to Jim Framtree, realizing it would have no more chance of getting past the Spaniard than a clicking infernal-box. Framtree was nowhere abroad when Bedient went below.
"I had not considered that, Miss Mallory, though I've a great respect for all that you think important.... I still intend to see Jim Framtree and before the end of 'the four days' spoken of night before last. The fact is, I have nothing else to do. Celestino Rey may mean to start his rebellion then, so there is only to-morrow and next day.
"It's all right, Señor Rey," Miss Mallory called. "I can hold her. We're scudding along beautifully, and our convoy is keeping pace " The Spaniard's bony shoulders sank a little in his chair. He interpreted this, as did Framtree, as an order. It was his first positive assurance that the American woman was against him. "But the Chinese, Miss Mallory " he said, with rare control.
"It would seem the best way to wait and see." "Oh, but I wouldn't please!... Is it worth that to see this Framtree, whom the Spaniard has probably commanded to keep in hiding? I am afraid for you!... And the whole house, even the sleeping-rooms, are under that devilish eye. I dared not turn on the light last night " They parted after less than twenty minutes.
The lady in question wondered if the forecastle-door were proof against the voices in the cabin. She did not turn her eyes to it, but happened to note that the Spaniard caught a glance from Jim Framtree, as he spoke his last words; also that Framtree arose, looked aft from the cabin doorway, and turned back with a smile.
Acquaintance was as agreeably received as offered. The stranger's name was Jim Framtree. He had been on the Island for several weeks, and intended to stay for awhile. He liked Equatoria well enough as well, in fact, as a man could like any place, when he was barred from the real trophy-room in the house of the world, New York. "I'm sailing for New York in the morning," Bedient said.
"That's mighty good of you," Framtree declared, and yet it was obvious that he could not regard the invitation as purely a friendly impulse, even if he wished to. "I remember now. I've heard of your big place up there." "Perhaps, I'd better explain that I wasn't thinking of Island politics when I asked you.... Queer how one has to explain things down here.
Beth sat down to work and then thoughts of the two men came to her. She should not have tried to paint, with Framtree in the room.... Thoughts arose, until she could not have borne another. The colors of her canvas flicked out, leaving a sort of welted gray of flesh, from which life is beaten. She rubbed her eyes. "Jim," she said at last, "why did you come back?"
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