Chapter 47

IN WHICH PHIL ANSWERS SOME INQUIRIES ABOUT THE FAWN, AND OTHER MATTERS.

I hauled down the jib, and left the mainsail standing when I anchored the Marian at the mouth of the river, for I did not know what Mr. Whippleton intended to do, and his movements were to govern mine. Though the mouth of the river was rather narrow, it opened, like the creek where we had anchored at noon, into a broad lagoon. There were hundreds of just such small lakes near the large one, in some cases with a narrow outlet, and in others with none at all. Among the effects of Mr. Ben Waterford which I found in the cabin, were several large maps, and one of these was the most interesting study I could find as I watched the Florina.

I saw from this map that there was no large town near the lagoon, and no means of reaching a railroad. I concluded, therefore, that Mr. Whippleton did not intend to abandon his yacht at this point. I was ready to make any movement as soon as he showed his purpose, and he could not take the Florina out of the lagoon without passing very near the Marian. He had anchored at a considerable distance from the shore, but he had a tender.

"What are you going to do here, Philip?" asked Marian, after I had studied the map to my satisfaction.

"I am going to see what Mr. Whippleton does. He knows that I am on his track, I suppose."

"If he has as much money as you say, he will be likely to run away."

"Not to-night; he will not like the idea of tramping through the woods in the dark."

"There! he's hauling in his small boat," added Marian, pointing to the yacht.

"So he is," I replied, pulling in the tender of the Marian.

"What will you do?"

"If he attempts to land, I shall follow him. I don't intend to lose sight of him. I haven't come so far to be balked now."

"What shall I do?" asked my fair cousin, with an anxious look.

"You will be perfectly safe here."

"What, alone?"

"I shall be sorry to leave you; but I must follow Mr. Whippleton, for your father's sake as well as my own."

"I will go with you then. I should not dare to stay here alone."

"But I don't believe Mr. Whippleton intends to leave the yacht. If he had meant to do so, he would have run into St. Joseph's River, instead of this lagoon, where there seems to be no good landing-place. We will wait and see what he is about."

"There are two of them," said Marian.

"So I perceive. I was not aware before that he had any one with him."

I observed the movements of the two persons on board of the Florina for some time. One of them jumped into the tender, at last, and shoved off.

"He's coming this way," said Marian.

"I see he is; it don't look like Mr. Whippleton," I replied, closely scrutinizing the person in the small boat. "I think you had better stay in the cabin, Marian."

"Why?"

"If it should be Mr. Whippleton, there may be some trouble."

"What trouble?"

"The moment he sees me he will understand my business with him; and to be entirely candid with you, I am afraid I shall have a worse battle with him than I had with Mr. Waterford."

"Why, you will not fight!"

"I must have your father's money, and the property he stole from me."

"I hope you won't quarrel," she added, anxiously.

"Not if I can help it. Mr. Whippleton is a fugitive from justice, and I don't mean to let him escape me."

"I am afraid of him. If he gets rid of you, he will go back and find Mr. Waterford."

"Well, don't worry any more yet. That is not Mr. Whippleton in the boat. I am sorry it is not he," I continued, satisfied, as the boat approached, that it was not the fugitive.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because, if this other person, whoever he is, come on board, and find that Mr. Waterford is not here, and that I am here, he will try to escape."

"Of course he knows that you are here."

"I am afraid he does; but I hope not. He had passed the point at the mouth of the creek when the battle was finished on the other side of the lake. I can't tell whether he saw the result or not."

"That's a black man in the boat," said Marian.

"Then he has engaged a cook."

I knew that Mr. Whippleton sometimes employed a colored man, who had been a sailor and a cook on the lake, to help him work the yacht when I could not go with him; but I had never seen him, and did not think it probable that he knew me. I went into the cabin, and brought out one of Mr. Waterford's rifles; but as I did not intend to kill anybody, I did not take the precaution to load it.

"What are you going to do with that, Philip?" asked Marian, as I returned to the standing-room, with the rifle in my hand.

"I may have occasion to use it; but it is not loaded."

"Don't shoot any one, Philip--pray don't."

"I shall not be likely to do so while the rifle is not loaded."

"But you may do something you don't intend to do."

"I certainly don't intend to fire a rifle that isn't loaded; and I shall not shoot any one."

I had not yet decided what to do, though a desperate scheme was flitting through my mind. If Mr. Whippleton slept in the cabin of the Florina that night, it would be possible to board the yacht by stealth in the darkness, fall upon him, and bind him hand and foot. The plan looked practicable to me, and though I had not yet arranged the details of it in my mind, or considered its difficulties, I was disposed to undertake it. I did not care, therefore, to have the negro return to the Florina with the intelligence that I was in possession of the Marian. I intended, therefore, to make him sleep on board of our boat.

Before I had fully determined in what manner I should detain the cook on board of the Marian, the boat came alongside. I turned my head away from the man, so that her need not discover that I was not Mr. Waterford before he came on board. I opened a conversation with Miss Collingsby, and appeared to take no notice of the arrival. The negro was evidently one of the lazy kind, for he did not offer to come on board.

"How do you do, Mr. Waterford?" said the cook, as he brought his boat under the quarter of the yacht.

"How do you do?" I replied, in a gruff tone.

"Gorrificious! Don't you know old Peter?" exclaimed the cook, apparently wounded at my want of recognition of him.

"How are you, old Peter?" I added, coughing violently to disguise my voice.

"Gorrificious, Mr. Waterford! I reckon you've got a bad cold. I've got a letter for you from Mr. Whippleton," continued the cook.

"Take it--will you, Marian?" I added, still coughing. "I don't want him to see me;" and I retreated into the cabin.

"Thank you miss," said Peter, as he delivered the letter. "I'm right down sorry Mr. Waterford has got such a terrible cough--on his wedding day, too, miss. Gorrificious, Miss Collingsby! Mr. Waterford is a lucky gentleman; but he desarves you. He's a fine gentleman--liberal to old Peter and all the boys."

Marian made no reply to this speech, though, when she appeared in the cabin, her cheeks and forehead were crimson with confusion.

"Did you hear what old Peter said," she asked.

"I did; and it is plain enough that Mr. Whippleton is in the secret, and has even told it to his cook."

"If I ever get home again, I shall not disobey my father. To think that the wretch told Mr. Whippleton all about it beforehand."

"I supposed he had," I replied, as I opened the letter.

"What does he say, Philip?" asked Marian, curiously.

"'Dear Ben'--that's the way he begins. 'How is the fawn?'"

"The fawn?"

"Probably meaning Miss Collingsby," I replied. "'I was afraid Phil would give you some trouble when I saw you had him on board. But you fixed him handsomely. I saw him tip over the bow of the boat. If you hadn't got rid of him, I should have gone ashore and helped you. I'm glad it's all right. Why didn't you run up the river farther, and anchor near the Florina? I thought I wouldn't call upon you till I knew how the fawn was. If she is agreeable, we will run to St. Joseph in the morning, and have your business done before noon.'"

"The brute!" exclaimed Marian, indignantly. "This has cured me of all the romance I ever had. I used to think my father was very harsh; but now I know he was right. He knew this man better than I did."

The familiarity and coarseness of the epistle were very offensive to her, and she could hardly restrain her indignation.

"'P.S.' I continued, reading from the letter. 'In my hurry I forgot the most important part of my stores. Please send me a couple of bottles of whiskey, and let me know all about the fawn.'"

That was all; and Mr. Whippleton wanted but two things--whiskey and information in regard to the fawn. I intended to furnish him with both, as the representative of Mr. Ben Waterford. I found a sheet of paper in the cabin, and I proceeded to describe the condition of the "fawn."

"Dear Charley," I began; and I had heard Mr. Waterford apply this familiar name to our junior partner: "The fawn is very uneasy, and does not like the idea of staying over night in this lagoon. I don't think it is safe for you to remain here. Phil said the officers were on your track, that Collingsby was after you with a sharp stick. Phil must have spoken to the fawn, for she is very suspicious. I shall have to leave in order to quiet her. I am all alone, and can't cook, or do anything, while sailing. I am in a fix. I want Peter badly. Can't you let me have him? I need him more than you do. Why can't you leave the Florina here, and come on board of the Marian? I send you four bottles of whiskey.

"P.S. I got a rap on the right hand in the fight, and can't write much."

I wrote this with a pencil, and in a style which would pass for anybody's handwriting who had been wounded in a fight. I folded it up, and having placed the four bottles of whiskey in a basket, I asked Marian to deliver them to the cook, while I continued to cough vigorously. I stood at the companion-way while my fair companion did the errand.

"Gorrificious, Miss Collingsby!" exclaimed the negro. "Whiskey's plenty as water, but none of it for old Peter."

"Take this letter to Mr. Whippleton," added Marian.

"Yes, miss. Old Peter'll do that. Can you told me if the letter says how many bottles of whiskey they is in the basket?"

"It says four."

"Marian," I called to her. "Here is one for Peter."

I gave her the extra bottle, and she presented it to the cook, who was more grateful for the gift than he would have been for its value in cash. I am willing to acknowledge that it was against my principles to give liquor to any one; but the probability was, that I should have a battle with the master, who would perhaps be aided by the man; and I regarded the whiskey as an ally of mine, as long as they, and not I, drank it. As soon as Peter had departed, my cough improved, and I ventured on deck again. I was sure that what I had written would make a breeze, when Mr. Whippleton read it, and I tried to prepare myself for whatever might happen.