Gordon Craig Part 23

"You spoke of leaving the lady ash.o.r.e at New Orleans."

"Oh, back at the house? You overheard that? Well, I am not above changing my mind in such matters. From what you have just told me I infer the young woman is more dangerous than I had supposed. Perhaps some foreign port would be the safer landing place. I shall determine that after our coming interview. This will be the lady now."

We both arose to our feet as she entered, glancing about her curiously at the rather strange surroundings, then stopping irresolutely, apparently recognizing neither of us. The light from the hanging lamp, waving somewhat from the movement of the vessel, served to soften the lines of her face, and reveal the delicate beauty. About her were no signs of fatigue or fear. Suddenly the light of recognition leaped into her eyes, and she took a quick step forward.

"Mr. Craig--you here? Why, I can hardly understand. Were you made prisoner also?"

"I suppose that to be my status, although I hardly know," I answered, yet unable to refrain from accepting the extended hand. "I was certainly brought aboard in chains, and much against my will. I presume you know this person?"

She swept my face with a swift, questioning glance, and then looked beyond me at the man standing beside the desk.

"No, I do not," slowly. "I have no remembrance of ever seeing him before."

"Is that not rather strange," I asked, steeling myself to the task, "after a.s.serting that he was your husband? He is the owner of this vessel--Philip Henley."

She reached out gropingly, and grasped the back of a chair, staring at his face, and then glancing into mine, as though bewildered, suspecting some trick. I could see her lips move, as if she endeavored to speak, but could not articulate the words. Henley---for I must call him that--advanced a step toward us, his thin lips fas.h.i.+oning themselves into an ironic smile.

"You receive this information about as I supposed you would, Madam," he said coldly. "I was doubtless the very last person you expected to encounter. Your accomplice here informs me that I am supposed to be dead. I am inclined to think you were both mistaken--but not more so than in regard to my marriage."

She straightened up, her eyes s.h.i.+ning.

"You are not Philip Henley," she said firmly. "He is my husband."

The smile widened, revealing the cruel white teeth.

"I expected heroics. It was hardly to be supposed that you would confess your fraud at once, and--before your lover."

She shrank back, her hands still extended.

"My--my lover--"

"Now stop!" I broke in, every nerve tingling, as I stepped between them. "Another insinuation like that, and you will learn what I can do. You may be captain of this boat, but you are alone with us now, and I can kill you before you could utter a cry. So help me G.o.d, I will, if you dare insult her again."

He reeled back against the desk, although I do not think I touched him, and his hand sought an open drawer. I knew him instantly for a coward, and gripped his wrist, hurling him from me half across the room.

"I 'll stand here, and you over there. I prefer dealing with your kind with bare hands. Now if you have any reply to make to this lady's a.s.sertions put it in decent language."

He gasped a bit, rubbing his bruised wrist, his eyes s.h.i.+fting to the closed door as though contemplating an alarm. But I stood where I could block any effort, and I doubt if he liked the expression on my face.

[Ill.u.s.tration: He gasped a bit, rubbing his bruised wrist.]

"There is no use going off at half c.o.c.k, Craig," he snarled. "I did n't mean any insult. And I 'll get you for that some time. You 'll learn yet what the _Sea Gull_ is."

"No doubt," I coincided, tired of his threats, and awakened to the fact that this quarrel was not likely to help our chances. "But for a few minutes it will be worth your while to listen to me. I am not defending this woman from anything but unnecessary insults. If she has deceived me I want to find it out. If you are Philip Henley, as you claim to be, you must have evidence to prove it. Convince me that her a.s.sertions are false, and you will not find me unreasonable."

"Gordon Craig, do you mean--"

I turned to her, steeling myself to look into her appealing eyes.

"I have been honest with you from the beginning," I Interrupted abruptly. "Now, if I discover that your statements are false, the inducements are all the other way. I am a soldier of fortune."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE SECRET OF THE VOYAGE

Henley laughed, the sound grating harshly on my nerves, yet I made no movement of protest as he stepped silently back to his desk. I was no longer afraid of the fellow, even although he might have a weapon concealed in one of the drawers, for I knew I had drawn his fangs.

This open avowal on my part was sufficient to convince one of his stripe that I was concerned only with my own interests. Whatever suspicion he may have previously entertained regarding my relations with the lady were now thoroughly evaporated. a.s.sured in his own mind that Philip had never been married, he was now easily convinced that I had merely a.s.sociated myself with a girl from the streets, whom I was only too glad to desert upon any plausible excuse. His words confirmed my judgment.

"Well said, my man. Now we begin to understand each other. Of course I have the proofs. I would be a fool to sit in such a game without a winning hand. Sit down, both of you, while we talk this over. There is no reason why the three of us should not be friends, providing you are sensible."

She had never removed her gaze from me, standing white-faced and rigid, as though unable to fully comprehend. I doubt if she heard, to distinguish, a syllable he spoke, her every thought centered on my renunciation.

"But--but I am his wife," she panted indignantly. "Philip Henley's wife. I--I showed you our certificate."

"A fake, a forgery," a.s.serted the other roughly, before I could find voice. "You had it framed up all right, if you had never run across me. Show me the paper."

"I cannot, for it is not here. I placed it in my valise back at that house." She stepped forward with hands held out toward me. "But you know--Gordon Craig, you know. I could not have forged that; I had not time; no information which would have led to such an act. You tell him so."

"I hardly think he will, Madam," returned the Captain shortly, evidently feeling it better not to let me speak. "And there is no use going on with this any farther. Answer me a question or two, that is all. Did n't Craig tell you why he was coming down here?"

"Yes," the single word scarcely audible.

"He explained to you in detail what was expected of him?"

"Yes."

"Some hours before you left, was n't it?"

"Yes."

"Then you had sufficient time, and knowledge to complete your plans.

When did you first tell Craig you were Philip Henley's wife?"

I clinched my hands at the bewildered embarra.s.sment in her eyes, at the sneer in the voice of the questioner, yet held myself silent.

"It was after we came here; when I was frightened, and felt that I must confess the truth. I--I had begun to trust him."

"Oh, indeed, and you failed to tell him at first because you did not trust him."

"Partially that--yes. Although I do not think the name Henley was even mentioned during our first interview. I am sure I did not realize it was my husband's father who was dead until later."

"Exactly; you picked up a strange man on the street; agreed to go off on a criminal mission with him, and now expect us to believe you perfectly innocent of any wrong intent."

"That will be enough," I interrupted, unable to remain quiet any longer. "The motives of the woman, and how we chanced to meet, are no concern of yours. If you are Philip Henley, prove it, and let it go at that. I have told you plainly enough where I stand."