"Our conversation."
The senator stiffened high: "For what, sir?"
And the bishop asked, "A verbatim report to the captain?"
"Yes, sir, and the newspapers."
"Insolence!" exclaimed the general, but was hushed by the squire, though the squire"s own brow lowered.
"Who will vouch for your accuracy?" loftily asked the senator.
"I"ll send now for witnesses." The youth reached toward a bell-cord. But the senator lifted a hand between:
"Stop, sir. There will be nothing to witness. Nevertheless you know, of course, that this is not the end."
"I see that, sir."
"When your pa.s.sengers awake in the morning, your real, your cabin pa.s.sengers, they will, they _shall_ awake to the deadly hazard of their situation. Gentlemen, there will be available landings beyond Prophet"s Island. We shall reach Turnbull"s Island by noon and Natchez Island before sundown. Meantime, sir, this mortal peril to hundreds of our best people is wholly chargeable to your captain."
"Captain and owners," said Hugh.
"Captain and owners! Good night, sir."
"Good night, gentlemen."
For half an hour the _Votaress_ headed west. Then the north star crept forward from starboard beam to bow and then back from bow to larboard beam. Plaquemine town, bayou, and bend swept past, and as she laid her course east for Manchac bayou, bend, and point a tranquil voice came up to the pilot-house from the darkness forward of the bell: "Where is Hugh, Mr. Watson?"
"He"s just turned in, sir."
XV
MORNING WATCH
Twinkled quite away were the four hours of middle watch.
All the gentler turnings of the journey"s first hundred miles were finished and the many hundred miles of its wider contortions were well begun. One winding of thirty-five miles had earned but twelve of northward advance. But at any rate that was now far downstream. Baton Rouge, the small capital of the State, crowning the first high bank you reach, was some six miles astern. In the dark panorama of the sh.o.r.es, decipherable only to a pilot"s trained sight, the unbroken procession of sugar estates was broken at last and the shining _Votaress_, having rounded a point from north to west, was crossing close above it with Seven Lakes and the Devil"s Swamp on her starboard bow. The _Antelope_ glimmered a short mile behind.
It was the first mate"s watch. On the hurricanedeck he paced at ease across and across near the front rail, where at any instant his eye could drop to its truer domain, the forecastle. The westerly moon hung high over the larboard bow. Now the boat ran so close along the lowland that in smiting the water each bucket of her sh.o.r.eward wheel drew a separate echo from the dense wood, as if a phantom boat ran beside her among the moss-draped cypresses. Ramsey! what thrills you were missing!
She knew it. In her sleep she lay half consciously resenting the loss.
Under the next point a close turn led into a long northeastward reach, and as the _Votaress_ bore due north across it the morning star, at one flash, blazed out on the dark world and down the flood. Through her stateroom"s high window its silvery beam found Ramsey in the upper berth and opened her eyelids with a touch. Staring on the serene splendor, she would soon have slept again, but just then the many lights of a large steamer glided out of the next bend above and Ramsey sprang to an elbow to watch its swift approach and await her own boat"s pa.s.sing call and the other"s reply. Now the _Votaress_ tolled a single stroke, as if to cry: "Hail, friend, we take the starboard."
With bird-like speed the shining apparition came on, and after a few seconds--that seemed endless--its soft, slow note of a.s.sent floated over the waters. Crossing the star"s slender path on a long oblique, the wonder came, came on, came close, glittered by, and was gone; now lowland and flood lay again in mystic shadows, and the heavenly beacon of dawn, shedding a yet more unearthly glory than before, swung nearer and nearer to the _Votaress"s_ course until it vanished forward of the great wheel-house as she headed northeast.
The very pilot at the helm was not more awake than the reclining Ramsey as she pondered the hours, each one a year, that had pa.s.sed since she came aboard. All their happenings, dark and bright; all their speeches; all their faces, male, female, aged, adolescent, juvenile, danced through her fancy with a variety and multiplicity of values which seven such little country-girl minds as hers, thought she, could hardly make room for. It seemed as though a shower of coined gold were overflowing her wee muslin ap.r.o.n of an intelligence and dropping through it. She could scarcely remain in the berth. Listen! Was her mother awake, in the lower one? The boat veered a trifle back northward and suddenly again, hovering over dim water and sh.o.r.e and blazing like a herald angel, was the morning star, a scant point or so to "stabboard." She chuckled, softly, at the word.
Gently her name was called, beneath her: "Ramsey?"
She let her face into the pillow and shook with the fun of it. If she should squeak half a note of reply she would be ordered to stay abed.
Soon the mother rose and began stealthily to dress. No doubt it was to return to those poor Germans below. The thought was very sobering.
Ramsey yearned to go with her, but knew she might as well ask leave to ride in the white yawl which, night and day, so incessantly, invitingly skimmed, zigzagged, foamed, and bounded after the _Votaress_, holding on to her fantail by its jerking painter.
The yawl reminded her of the boy Hugh. He seemed to belong to the boat in much the same way as it. He _was_ a boy, nothing else--humph!--pooh!--though he seemed to think himself the elephant of the show. A boy, and yet with what a mind! Not that she should ever want one like it--whoop! what would she ever do with it? No wonder she had laughed in his face. Without laughter she would have been his tossed and trampled victim. Laughter was her ladder; the ladder up which the circus girl runs to sit on the elephant"s shoulder.
The lock of the stateroom door whispered. Her mother was going! Now she was gone! The daughter rose enough to look out on the gliding flood. It was day. But, night or day, how it intensified existence, this perpetual, tremulous pa.s.sing of heaven and earth over and round and by and beneath one! Every least incident, indoors or out, was large and vivid, and a mere look from a window became a picture in the memory, to hang there through life. Nay, a sound was enough, too much. The remote peck-peck of that carpenter"s hammer smote into her mind the indelible image of the only thing he could be making at such an hour. Trying to be deaf, she thought of Joy--timely thought! At any moment the old dear might steal in. She dropped from her berth, and when the actual invasion came, when Joy appeared, Ramsey was at the wash-stand, splashing like a canary, while strewn about the cramped place lay a lot of fresh attire, her Sunday best, brightest, longest.
"Now, you needn"t say one word!" she cried.
The old woman bridled to say many, but before she could speak there was a fervent challenge to answer:
"Do you realize all I"ve got to attend to to-day?"
The nurse"s mouth opened but another question was shot into it: "Has anybody told about the _Quakeress_?"
There was a limit to forbearance. "Now, Miss Ramsey Hayle, ef dey is tell it, aw ef dey hain"t--to yo" ma--dat"s all right an" beseemly. But fo" you, dat ain"t no fitt"n" story fo" you to heah!"
Ramsey stared from her towel with lips apart. "Why, you--I"m going to hear it!--all!--this day!--or, anyhow, this trip!--from--from--" She fell upon the nurse"s shoulder, convulsed.
"F"om who" is you gwine hear it? Stop, missie, stawp! Dat"s madness, dat laughteh. De Bible say" so! F"m who"--? Lawd! yo" head"s a-wett"n" my breas"-han"kercheh!"
Ramsey drew up, her eyes dancing, but went into a new transport as she replied: "From the baby elephant!"
"No, you don"t, Miss Ramsey Hayle! No, you don"t! An" besides, befo" you heah de story o" de _Quak"ess_ you want to heah de story o" Phyllis."
XVI
PHYLLIS
From earliest childhood the Hugh whom it gave Ramsey such rapture to nickname had unconsciously worn the dim frown that seemed to her so droll because at once so scrutinous yet so appealing.
To others that faint shade had never meant more than an inborn mental painstaking; a mind as steadily at work as the pulse; seemingly sluggish, really active. But Ramsey, in her stateroom, letting Joy dress her for all the Sabbath could mean afloat or ash.o.r.e, could not accept such a thought. A feminine eagerness to read the masculine brow had promptly imputed to Hugh"s a depth of mystery for which her romantic young soul demanded a romantic interpretation. Hence, mainly, her hunger for the story of the _Quakeress_. She had perceived, she thought, a relation between it and the clouded brow, and was bent on finding for the brow"s owner as amazing a part in the tale as could be contrived by any piecing together of its facts which did not absolutely mutilate them. And these facts already she had begun to collect when by the mention of this "Phyllis" she discovered that old Joy had at least a share of the facts and under due pressure would yield them up.
"Phyllis?" asked Ramsey, "who was Phyllis?"
"Humph! Neveh hear o" Phyllis? Well, dey wuz reason fo" dat, too.
Phyllis wuz de likeliest yalleh gal I eveh see, not-in-standin" she wuz my full fus" cousin."
Now, one could be as dark as a sloe and yet have a cousin as yellow as a marigold, but Ramsey did not see it so. "How can that be?" she laughed, "when you are so out and out black?" The bare idea seemed too comical for human endurance.
"I ain"t no blackeh"n Gawd made me--oh, Lawd! missie, how I gwine b.u.t.ton you up ef you shif" an" wriggle like dat? Phyllis wuz nuss to all de Co"teney chil"en. "Caze dat same day when de new _Quak"ess_ come down de riveh wid dis same Mahs" Hugh, new-bawn, dah wuz yo" pa on his new boat, de _Conjuror_----"