Part 3

TWO weeks passed without change in the situation, except that their end saw the Queen still deeper in the tangle. The breeze from the west had continued, but day by day had grown fainter, until at last it barely cooled the faces of the weary passengers. Day by day, too, the weed and the wreckage in the tangle grew thicker. Here and there floated broken spars, fragments of shattered deck-houses, moss-grown planks, Jacob’s-ladders, and all the fugitive spoil of the sea. Broken boats, bottom upward; rafts with tumbled fragments of canvas screening perhaps some terrible burden; a red buoy wrenched from some coast harbor; a bottle with a little flag bobbing above it--these appeared, grew nearer, and dropped astern, sometimes just out of reach of the Queen.

Several times abandoned ships appeared; one with a patch of sail gave Jackson some agonizing alternations of hope and despair before its final nearness forced him to admit that it, like their own vessel, was a derelict, bound for the port of dead ships. None of this wreckage, however, kept pace with the Queen. The tallest caught the wind and the deepest caught the current, but the Queen caught both, and moved ahead accordingly.

The marvel of it all affected the voyagers according to their several natures. Jackson took it hardest. Used to the roar of New York and to the electric contagion of great crowds, and without resources within himself, the comparative solitude and the uncertainty drove him frantic. Had he been alone, he would never have lived so long; despair would have robbed him of his wits altogether and have driven him to end it all by a plunge over the side. Even as it was, his state caused his companions grave alarm. Howard took care never to let him be very long out of his sight by day. Fortunately, he slept like a log at night, and Howard was able to lock him in his room late and release him early without his ever discovering that he had been confined.

This state of affairs, however, could not continue. Day by day the detective grew more and more surly, until Howard began to long for the open conflict that was sure to come. Had they two been alone together, he would have speedily brought affairs to a crisis, but the misery of Dorothy’s position should anything happen to himself made him hold off, hoping that Jackson’s mood might pass. The worst of it all was the man had a revolver--the only one on board.

For the rest, Howard seemed to be not at all troubled. In fact, so far as Jackson knew, the situation worried him not at all. Only Dorothy, who, light-footed, had once come upon him unheard and found him on his knees with bowed head and shaking shoulders, suspected that his lightheartedness was assumed. On that occasion she had stolen away as silently as she had come.

As a matter of fact, Howard, though wild to get back to the task of which he had spoken to the others, was yet not anxious to go to execution. Moreover, the wonder of the situation appealed to him mightily, and he tried to be content to grasp the hours as they came, and not to worry over the future. After he had thoroughly explored the reachable portions of the vessel and had worked out their position as well as it was possible with such makeshift instruments as he could devise, he had devoted himself to the study of the myriad life that swarmed among the weeds. A scoop, trailed overboard for a few minutes, invariably brought aboard hundreds of living forms.

Something of a naturalist already, he took delight in studying the sea creatures, and in noting the marvellous protective resemblances by which they hid from foes or crept upon enemies, themselves similarly equipped.

In this study he was enthusiastically joined by Dorothy. No past record of crime could prevent the intimacy that sprang up between these two, so like in tastes and training, thus thrown upon each other for human companionship. Again and again Dorothy told herself that she ought to shrink from Howard and confine their intercourse to the needs of bare civility, and, accordingly, for a time she would devote herself to Jackson and let Howard go. But Jackson, blameless police officer as he was, had no resources within himself to long content an educated girl like Dorothy, and soon she would drift back to Howard’s side--much, it must be owned, to Jackson’s relief.

Curiously enough, the girl was not unhappy. The situation, as yet, was too novel for that. The fact that she could see no possible means for rescue did not greatly trouble her. With the natural resilience of youth, she threw off her anxiety; with the natural trust of woman in man, she was content to leave everything to Howard, and to put implicit faith in his promise, vague and unsubstantial though it was, to do what he could to save her. This was the more surprising as he had as yet had no chance to prove himself capable. Nevertheless, Dorothy threw all responsibility on his shoulders and concerned herself no more about the outcome. If sometimes uneasy questions assailed her, she drove them away. There was nothing to do but to trust him. After she had attended to the meals--a duty which she insisted upon taking on herself after the first day--she would join him at his nets, and together they would pass away the hours. They grew very friendly in those days, especially in the long silences of sympathetic understanding that ever bind heart to heart.

One day, the fifteenth since the storm, after one of these silences, Dorothy turned to the man impulsively. “Mr. Howard,” she exploded. “You say you are not thin-skinned. Won’t you tell me something about your case?”

Howard flushed. “To what end, Miss Fairfax?” he asked quietly. “I can say that I am innocent, of course; but that is what every convict in the land says. I could not convince the jury. Is it not better that I keep silence till I can get the proof?”

“Nevertheless, tell me.”

“Certainly; if you really wish it.” Howard’s tones were coolly impersonal. “On May 8 of last year, I received a letter in a woman’s writing. It was short and I remember every word of it. ‘Dear Frank,’ it said, ‘I am here. Come to see me at once. Dolores.’ Then followed the address. Perhaps I was foolish to go, but I did go--to a cheap lodging-house, where the landlady told me to ‘go right up’ to the third floor and knock on the door marked 8. The door was ajar, however, and as I got no answer to my knock, I pushed it open and looked in. A woman’s body was lying on the floor. Again I was foolish. I should have summoned aid at once. Instead, I went in, and stooped over the body. Immediately I saw that the woman was dead; strangled apparently. As I rose to call for help, the landlady appeared at the door. Probably the inference she drew was justified; at any rate, she tried to blackmail me, and when I refused to submit she shrieked and summoned assistance. She declared that she had seen me choking the woman, and I was arrested. Later it developed that some one passing under my name had married the girl--for she was nothing more--in a little village near San Juan at the very time my ship was stationed there.”

“That, of course, furnished the motive for the crime. I had, so it was charged, married the girl and deserted her. Later, when she followed me to New York, I had sought her out and murdered her. There were plenty of people to swear to the marriage and to send in affidavits identifying my photograph as that of the bridegroom--though, as it seems, none of them had seen very much of him. Only the minister who performed the ceremony was doubtful, and him my lawyers arranged to bring to New York. He started, but his ship was wrecked and he was drowned on the way. All I could say was that I had never seen the girl until I looked on her dead body, and that went for little.”

“Evidently, the girl thought that she had married Frank Howard. Perhaps she did marry a Frank Howard; the name is not uncommon. Perhaps she married some one deliberately masquerading under my name. I do not know. At all events, the case was complete against me, and the jury found me guilty without leaving their seats. I escaped and went to Porto Rico to look for evidence, but I was captured before I could find it. That is all, Miss Fairfax. I cannot blame you if you agree with the jury.”

“But I don’t----”

The sentence was never finished. Jackson, who for two hours had been standing by the rail, staring northward, suddenly whirled around and came toward the two, pistol in hand.

“Put your fists up,” he ordered Howard tensely. “Up! Quick! Hang you!”

Taken by surprise, Howard could do nothing but obey.

Jackson laughed madly. “You’ve run things just about long enough,” he grated. “We’ve been driftin’ in this wreck for two weeks now and I’m dog tired of it. I ain’t no sailor, but I know when a man’s givin’ me the double cross, and you’re doin’ it. You’ve got to get us out of this.”

Howard’s face grew dark. “Kindly specify?” he said.

The other glared at him. “Don’t you try to bluff me with your big words,” he shouted. “I won’t have it. You’ve been lettin’ on that you wanted to get us out of this and all the time you’ve been lettin’ us drift deeper in. You don’t want us to get away at all, for all your smooth talk.”

“I told you that I was helpless until we reached the central mass of wrecks and----”

“Yah! You and your mass of wrecks! I ain’t no come-on. You can’t work no con game on me. I never took no stock in those fairy tales, but I thought I’d let you play your game out. Now I’m tired of it, and it’s up to you to do something quick!”

Howard shrugged his shoulders. “With pleasure,” he agreed, “if you’ll kindly tell me what to do.”

“How do I know? I ain’t no sailor. You are! And you’re going straight back to your state-room and stay there till you study out some plan to get us out of this. You belong in quod, anyway, and you’re going to stay there--with the bracelets on, too, until you get us out of this. March, now.”

But Howard shook his head. “I’ll never wear irons again,” he declared. “Never! You’re armed and I’m not. You can kill me, but you can’t jail me. Make up your mind to that. As for the central mass of wrecks, it must exist; it’s impossible that it should not exist. The only question is as to the area it covers. If you can---- By Jove!”

His eyes left the detective’s face and travelled into space. “Fool,” he cried, “look yonder.”

Jackson laughed scornfully. “Not good enough,” he cried. “You can’t fool----”

But Dorothy broke in. “Land! Land!” she cried.

In spite of himself the detective looked around. Through the haze before them loomed what seemed to be the bulk of an island, set with lofty tiers and dark beaches on which white houses gleamed in the setting sun. So real it seemed that the happy tears streamed from Dorothy’s eyes. “Oh!” she sobbed, “it’s land! land! land!”

Howard’s voice came to her from afar off. “No,” he murmured, sadly. “It is not land. It is wreckage. We have reached our destination.”

Moved by a slight breeze, the haze shredded away and there, on the waters before them, stretching away to right and to left, lay an interminable mass of wrecks of every shape and description, banked together so thickly that they seemed to touch--and did touch--each other. Dead! all of them. Some newly dead; others long dead; but all unburied, waiting in the haven of dead ships for the long-deferred end. The trees were not trees, but masts hung with ravelled cordage; the beaches were the black hulls of ships; and the white houses were deck-houses or patches of canvas.

For a moment no one spoke. Dorothy stood staring, every muscle tense, while the tears dripped slowly from her distended eyes. Jackson’s mouth fell open; his pistol hand fell nerveless to his side. For the first time he realized the situation.

As they gazed, the sun with tropic suddenness dropped below the horizon and hid the scene.

Howard’s voice broke the silence. “Now,” he encouraged, “we can get to work.”

VII

IT was late that night before the voyagers dropped into uneasy slumber. The wonder of their situation, suddenly brought home to them, had roused them all to unusual volubility. In the excitement consequent on the discovery of the massed wrecks even Jackson forgot his suspicions, and the three talked together freely. Howard had promised that they should join the wrecks, and they had done so. Now he would have a chance to keep his other promise to get them out; in the first flush of arrival they did not doubt that he would do so.

But Jackson, at least, changed his opinion the next morning when he came on deck and viewed the scene before him.

During the night the Queen, drawn by the same natural attraction that holds the planets in their sphere and brings floating chips together in a basin, had taken its place with the dead ships. Under her counter lay a water-logged schooner; beside her rubbed a dismasted sailing-ship; over her submerged bow hung a tramp steamer, whose blackened masts, bare of cordage, gave evidence of the flames that had ravaged her. Beyond, stretched a mass of wreckage, ship pressing upon ship, in an endless iteration of ruin. Only to the west the view was open, and there stretched the weed in slimy convolutions.

Over all screamed the sea-birds.

Each of these countless wrecks had once sailed the sea, new and strong, and each had come here at last to slumber peacefully until the deep should open and receive it. No more would they ride out the hurricane or take with frolic welcome the buffetings of the waves; no more would they visit the great ports of men and groan beneath the heavy cargoes placed upon them. Their days of turmoil were over. Here, in this quiet haven, in the great calm of the tropics, with only the faintest breezes to whisper into their ears tales of the open sea, and with the birds to nest in their deserted rigging, they dreamed their old age away.

To Dorothy the sight was solemn, but not sad; to Howard it was amazing; to Jackson it was maddening.

Less than ever did he believe that he was hopelessly trapped far out on the ocean; more than ever was he convinced that Howard was deceiving him for his own ends. He saw the ships rocking gently on the swells, noted white patches of sails showing here and there, heard the cries of the gulls, and told himself afresh that he could easily walk ashore if he only knew how; and when a flock of parrots lighted in the rigging and demanded crackers, and a monkey poised on the end of a near-by mast and gibbered, he was convinced beyond peradventure that Howard had lied to them and was only watching his chance to desert them. He did not even listen to that officer when he explained that both birds and beasts must have drifted in on wrecks and had probably thriven.

“The birds will feed on the roaches on the old rattle-trap wrecks,” he explained, “and the monkeys will live on the birds’ eggs. Perhaps, too, both catch shell-fish in the weeds.”

Breakfast was a silent meal. Dorothy was awed and frightened by the sight of the wrecks, and Jackson was glum. In vain Howard strove to rouse them. Finally he gave up and finished his breakfast in silence. Then he pushed away his plate.

“Listen to me, please,” he said coldly. “We have arrived at our destination and must now take steps to help ourselves. Two things are necessary: first, to explore the ships around us; second, not to get lost. Make no mistake; the danger of this last is very great. These ships will not look the same as we leave them and as we return to them; where we climb down a ship’s side in going away, we must climb up it in coming back, and _vice versa_. Often this may be difficult; sometimes it may be impossible. Yet, if we try to vary our route, we may lose ourselves; and once lost the chances are a thousand to one against our ever finding our way back to the Queen again. Not that we shall stay by the Queen long; probably we shall soon find some ship better suited for a base of operations. But we must remember that this continent of ships is a desert except around its edges. New wrecks arriving will bring food and water, but a few hundred yards inside the borders neither can remain. It may seem to you that it would be easy to get back to the border again, but I assure you that it would not be. Without a compass, we would not know which way to go, and might easily be plunging deeper and deeper into the mass.”

He paused, waiting for comment, but none was made. He was leader, however grudgingly so, and it was for him to map out their course of action. No one dreamed of disputing it--Jackson, no less than Dorothy, realized his helplessness and his ignorance.

“I beg you, therefore, to be very careful,” resumed Howard, seeing that the others waited. “I am particularly insistent, because we must explore first of all. To-day the danger is not great, because we are not likely to get far away, but we might as well start right. First, we must run up all the signal-flags we can find; they will be conspicuous for a long ways off. Next, we must light a fire in the galley range; its smoke will be visible still farther away. Third, we must never go out of sight of our base--the Queen, at present--under any circumstances; when we climb to each new ship we must look back and make sure that we can still see the flags or the smoke. Fourth, we must each carry a hatchet and mark our way just as a woodman blazes a path through a forest; the hatchet will come in handy, anyhow. Later, if we do not find what we want, we can shift our base to some other vessel along the ‘coast,’ and explore farther with that as a new center. Do I make myself clear?”

Dorothy nodded. “Shall we all go together?” she asked.

Howard shook his head. “No, I think not,” he answered gently. “I hope you will be willing to stay here for the present and keep the galley fire alight; I’ll show you how to make it smoke. Jackson and I will do the exploring for to-day, anyway. He can go to the north along the coast, and I will go to the south, and----”

“Not much!” The policeman was shaking his head doggedly. “Not much, you don’t. I don’t leave you out of my sight. I’ve got my orders from headquarters and----”

Howard stifled an exclamation. “Very well,” he said coldly. “As you please! Perhaps it is better anyway. Two can do things that one could not. Come! Let’s get ready.”

“But----” Dorothy looked very dubious.

Howard turned to her. “I know what you would say, Miss Fairfax. You would like to go, of course. But, believe me, it is best not. Moving about these wrecks will be difficult and even dangerous for any one hampered by skirts. You would be exhausted very soon. Besides, we may meet unpleasant sights. Later, when we know our ground better, we will take you for a sight-seeing tour. You will be perfectly safe on the Queen. You are not afraid to be left alone, are you?”

“Oh! No! It will be lonely, of course, but isn’t there some way that I can signal to you if anything should happen?”

Howard considered a while; then plunged down into the vitals of the Queen, returning shortly with a double armful of straw dug from a hogshead once filled with crockery.

“There,” he said, dropping it at the entrance of the galley. “If anything happens, wet some of that and put it on the fire; it will make a thick black smoke. By alternately closing and opening the draft, you can let it go up and cut it off altogether. We’ll watch for it.”

Howard and Jackson climbed down the Jacob’s-ladder that still swung at the Queen’s counter, and dropped lightly to the deck of the water-logged schooner that lay there. Of this, nothing but a few inches of the deck and the stumps of the masts were above water; whatever deck-houses there might have been had been carried away, together with the entire rail. Consequently there was nothing to investigate, nothing that could help the castaways in their efforts to escape, and the two men crossed over her with merely a glance, using her as a bridge to reach a ship floating high in the water just beyond.

The second vessel had a gangway lowered down her side, evidently to help her passengers to reach the boats. Her masts were gone, but otherwise she seemed intact.

“Crew and passengers taken off by another ship,” explained Howard, “probably in fair weather after a storm. Most likely another storm was brewing and the crew expected their own vessel to sink.”

A rapid search showed that the ship had nothing of value to offer. Her boats were gone; her compasses, charts, chronometers, and sextants all were gone. Some tools remained, but were so rusted as to be of little value. Howard soon led the way to her taffrail, whence he could clutch the shrouds of a full-rigged ship which had evidently been in a collision.

As he stepped on the deck of this craft, there was a scurry of feet, and a dozen huge rats bolted across the deck and disappeared under the poop.

“Confound the brutes,” he muttered. “I hate them! Wonder what they have been eating.”

The answer was not far to seek. Close beside the davits of the quarter-boat lay two skeletons; one with a smooth, round hole drilled through the fleshless skull, the other with a broken backbone. Howard looked at them and nodded.

“Probably the crew made a rush for the boats,” he suggested. “Somebody--one of the officers, I suppose--tried to stop them. He shot one, but the others ran over him and broke his back. Then came the rats. Well, it was a man’s death. If you can find a couple of bags, Jackson, we will commit the bones to the sea.”

From the ship the two men descended to a steamer, much down by the stern, with a gaping hole in her port counter, where something must have driven deep into her vitals. From this they climbed upon a small yacht, floating just awash. (“Held up by water-tight compartments,” explained Howard.) Thence they passed to another vessel, and to another, and another, each bearing mute record to the manner of its ruin.

But on none did the explorers find what they sought. The boats were invariably gone; the tools were always rusty; the compasses had all been snatched from the binnacle and from the cabin; the charts had mostly been torn from the racks and tables, often so roughly that the thumb-tacks that had held their corners were left in the board, each holding a triangular scrap of torn paper. In the few instances where any did remain, they were rotten with mildew, and charted regions far distant from the Sargasso Sea.

It was noon when Howard gave the word to return to the Queen. “Don’t be downcast, Jackson,” he consoled. “What we have found to-day is only what we had to expect. The boats would, of course, be taken, even if everything else was left. The compasses, and charts, and sextants, and so on, would naturally be taken next, for those who went in the boats would need them to shape their course. The tools and engines would have almost invariably been left exposed to the weather and would be badly rusted. It would have been by mere chance had we found what we wanted on the very first day. At least we have learned that there is plenty of food and water and clothing and coal to be had for the taking. To-morrow we will search in another direction. Now, let’s go home.”

But return was not so easy as the two men expected. As Howard had foretold, there was an important difference between climbing up and climbing down, and this difference was accentuated by the fact that in leaving the Queen they had chosen the easiest route. When they could have gone from one ship to any one of two or three others, they had naturally moved to the one that appeared the least difficult of access.

Taking the route in reverse, this small detail of choice often meant that they must return to the one that was the most difficult to board.