Выбрать главу

"Then the Prince is well?" I asked.

"Not a pimple on him, old man," said the efflorescent Lane, "and he's writing like blue blazes in his cabin."

What was he writing? Was that dull-blue eye eloquent of fate? When he should be afoot, what did he at his desk? Even as I pondered this question, a high voice fluted through the corridor and a door opened with a bang. It was Mademoiselle. She dashed across, a flutter of skirts and a flurry of agitation, and disappeared into the apartments occupied by the Prince. Princess Alix stood on the threshold with a disturbed look upon her face.

"She's gone to raise Cain," said Lane, with a grimace.

"We've got enough Cain already," said I, and walked to the window opposite. Dawn was now flowing slowly into the sky, and objects stood out greyly in a grey mist. From the deck a noise broke loudly, and Lane joined us.

"Another attack," said he. "They're bound to have us now."

I said nothing. Barraclough was listening at the farther end, and I think Princess Alix had turned her attention from Mademoiselle. I heard Holgate's voice lifted quite calmly in the racket:

"It's death to two, at all events. So let me know who makes choice. You, Garrison?"

"Let's finish the job," cried a voice. "We've had enough," and there was an outcry of applause.

Immediately on that there was a loud rapping on the door near us.

"When I've played my cards and fail, gentlemen," said Holgate's voice, "I'll resign the game into your hands."

"What is it?" shouted Barraclough. "Fire, and be hanged!"

"You mistake, Sir John," called out Holgate. "We're not anxious for another scrap. We've got our bellies full. All we want is a little matter that can be settled amicably. I won't ask you to open, for I can't quite trust the tempers of my friends here. But if you can hear me, please say so."

"I hear," said Barraclough.

"That's all right, then. I won't offer to come in, for William Tell may be knocking about. We can talk straight out here. We want the contents of those safes, that's all—a mere modest request in the circumstances."

"You've got the safes," shouted Barraclough. "Let us alone."

"Softly, Sir John, Bart.," said the mutineer. "The safes are there safe enough, but there's nothing in 'em. You've got back on us this time, by thunder, you have. And the beauty of the game was its simplicity. Well, here's terms again, since we're bound to do it in style of plenipotentiaries. Give us the contents of the safes, and I'll land you on the coast here within twelve hours with a week's provisions."

There was a moment's pause on this, and Barraclough looked toward me in the dim light, as if he would, ask my advice.

"They've got the safes," he said in perplexity. "This is more treachery, I suppose."

"Shoot 'em," said Lane furiously. "Don't trust the brutes."

"Wait a bit," said I hurriedly. "Don't let's be rash. We had better call Mr. Morland. There's something behind this. Tell them that we will answer presently."

Barraclough shouted the necessary statement, and I hurried off to the Prince's cabin. I knocked, and entered abruptly. Mademoiselle sat in a chair with a face suffused with tears, her pretty head bowed in her hands. She looked up.

"What are we to do, doctor? The Prince says we must fight. But there is another way, is there not?" she said in French. "Surely, we can make peace. I will make peace myself. This agitates my nerves, this fighting and the dead; and oh, Frederic! you must make peace with this 'Olgate."

The Prince sat awkwardly silent, his eyes blinking and his mouth twitching. What he had said I know not, but, despite the heaviness of his appearance, he looked abjectly miserable.

"It is not possible, Yvonne," he said hoarsely. "These men must be handed over to justice."

I confess I had some sympathy with Mademoiselle at the moment, so obstinately stupid was this obsession of his. To talk of handing the mutineers over to justice when we were within an ace of our end and death knocking veritably on the door!

"The men, sir, wish to parley with you," I said somewhat brusquely. "They are without and offer terms."

He got up. "Ah, they are being defeated!" he said, and nodded. "Our resistance is too much for them." I could not have contradicted him just then, for it would probably have led to an explosion on the lady's part. But it came upon me to wonder if the Prince knew anything of the contents of the safes. They were his, and he had a right to remove them. Had he done so? I couldn't blame him if he had. He walked out with a ceremonious bow to Mademoiselle, and I followed. She had dried her eyes, and was looking at me eagerly. She passed into the corridor in front of me, and pressed forward to where Barraclough and Lane stood.

"The mutineers, sir, offer terms," said Barraclough to the Prince. "They propose that if we hand over the contents of the safes we shall be landed on the coast with a week's provisions."

The Prince gazed stolidly and stupidly at his officer.

"I do not understand," said he. "The scoundrels are in possession of the safes."

"That is precisely what we should all have supposed," I said drily. "But it seems they are not."

"Look here, Holgate," called out Barraclough after a moment's silence, "are we to understand that you have not got the safes open?"

It seemed odd, questioning a burglar as to his success, but the position made it necessary.

"We have the safes open right enough," called Holgate hoarsely, "but there's nothing there—they're just empty. And so, if you'll be so good as to fork out the swag, captain, we'll make a deal in the terms I have said."

"It is a lie. They have everything," said the Prince angrily.

"Then why the deuce are they here, and what are they playing at?" said Barraclough, frowning.

"Only a pretty little game of baccarat. Oh, my hat!" said Lane.

"It seems to me that there's a good deal more in this than is apparent," I said. "The safes were full, and the strong-room was secure. We are most of us witnesses to that. But what has happened? I think, Sir John, it would be well if we asked the—Mr. Morland forthwith if he has removed his property. He has a key."

"No, sir, I have not interfered," said the Prince emphatically. "I committed my property to the charge of this ship and to her officers. I have not interfered."

Barraclough and I looked at each other. Lane whistled, and his colour deepened.

"There, doctor, that's where I come in. I told you so. That's a give-away for me. I've got the other key—or had."

"Had!" exclaimed the Prince, turning on him abruptly.

"Yes," said Lane with sheepish surliness. "I was telling the doctor about it not long ago. My key's gone off my bunch. I found it out just now. Some one's poached it."

The Prince's eyes gleamed ferociously, as if he would have sprung on the little purser, who slunk against the wall sullenly.

"When did you miss it?" asked Barraclough sharply.

"Oh, about an hour and a half ago!" said Lane, in an offhand way.

"He has stolen it. He is the thief!" thundered the Prince.

Lane glanced up at him with a scowl. "Oh, talk your head off!" said he moodily, "I don't care a damn if you're prince or pot-boy. We're all on a level here, and we're not thieves."

Each one looked at the other. "We're cornered," said Barraclough. "It will make 'em mad, if they haven't got that. There's no chance of a bargain."

"It is not my desire there should be any bargain," said the Prince stiffly.

Barraclough shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. But it was plain to all that we were in a hole. The mutineers were probably infuriated by finding the treasure gone, and at any moment might renew their attack. There was but a small prospect that we could hold out against them.

"We must tell them," said I; "at least, we must come to some arrangement with them. The question is whether we shall pretend to fall in with their wishes, or at least feign to have what they want. It will give us time, but how long?"

"There is no sense in that," remarked Prince Frederic in his autocratic way. "We will send them about their business and let them do what they can."