THE NOVELIST
FLOTSAM OF THE LINE.
By
OTTWELL BINNS.
(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.)
SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTER I.—Pat Marchington , young, handsome, rich, and romantic, sailing at random on board the Mangkaasar, decides one morning to land at a tropical Eastern town instead of going to Macassar, his planned destination. The captain, Mynheer Gisbert, strongly disapproves, and points out all sorts of possible dangers; but Pat persists, and is finally sent ashore, the captain promising to call for him again in two months. Pat goes to a guest house, rests for a while, and then goes for a walk to the beach, where he notices a bottle floating in the water, and immediately retrieves it. It contains a piece of sketching paper, on which is painted the vivid face of a beautiful girl. Some faint lettering and the three letters S.O.S. cause Pat’s pulse to quicken and his heart to thrill. CHAPTER ll:—The message reads; “The Banjermasin was wrecked on an island in the Caram Sea on . There is an old fort visible from sea on the east. There are four other survivors, wicked scoundrels. Whoever finds this please send to the Governor at Batavia with all speed.—Lola Ancaster.’’ Pat, convinced that fate has ordained his “finding this, makes for the shipping offices, but, discovering the agent to be away, goes into a cafe and tells his story to Roger Carleton, a dissatisfied young Englishman, who had overheard his inquiry, and appears to be friendly. The wolfish surprise, however, which Carleton betrays at the mention of Lola Ancaster’s name, causes Pat to be on his guard, and he refuses to exhibit the paper he had found, specially when he sees Carleton make a secret eign to a Chinaman behind him. Later, warned by the look of one of the cafe frequenters, Pat leaves, but in the darkness outside he is surprised by a number of attackers. His cry for help is heard, but before his rescuer comes up, Pat collapses, unconscious in the dust. CHAPTER lII.—He recovers to find himself in his own room at the rest-house, and learns that his deliverer, ..the man whose look had warned him in the'cafe, is Mike O Ryan, erstwhile batman to an army friend of Pat’s. They discover- from the initials of the signature that the sketch of Lola has been painted,by Carlton, who evidently knows the girl. The Banjermasin belongs to Chin Sang (the Chinaman to whom Carlton had signalled), and there is some big mystery connected with its disappearance O’Ryan decides that for safety’s sake he and Pat must take a private boat and go further down the coast whence they will be able to communicate with the Governor at Batavia. On the beach, just as they are preparing to board, they are attacked from the trees. Pat fires his pistol. CHAPTER IV.—CLEAR AWAY. A yell of rage followed the crack of Marchington’s pistol. The dark figures halted suddenly, then dropped to the black sand, where they instantly became invisible. O'Ryan gave a ’short laugh. “Check! ” he said, then turned to the half-caste boy, “ Scoot as fast as you know how,” adding a single Malay word.
The boy waited no second bidding, but slid away in the darkness along shore; whilst the Irishman dropped the burden he was carrying, and spoke to Marchington. “ Keep an eye on this beauty, major; an’ if he moves stun him; an’ watch for the others. 'They’re divvies with the knife, an’ mebbe they’ll crawl forward an’ try a rush. Marchington glanced at the burden which the other had discarded, and saw that it was the senseless figure of a man, then he turned to watch the shadows in front. The stars burned brightly; but on the dark sand it was difficult to locate anything clearly. No sound reached him from the darkness; but he knew that the pursuers were there, that probably they were creeping forward, as he himself had more than once crept on night raids on the Somme, and with the old thrill lue waited, examining every deeper shadow that presented itself to his searching eyes. There w is one to the left that he watched carefully for a full minute before he decided that it was a rock; then from his immediate front came a sound that might have been made by a crawling crab. His eyes tried to locate the spot whence it came. At first they failed; then in the darkness something gleamed. He had no doubt what that was—the reflection of a star on a bright blade. Carefully he watched. The gleam was almost level with the dark sand; and it changed its position slowly. Some one he decided was wriggling, slowly forward, carrying a knife in his mouth. He flashed a swift glance round to make sure that there was no other antagonist nearer; then sought the crawler afresh. He could not find him. The gleam was gone, and the dark sand absorbed the man’s form. Tensely he waited. He heard the sound of paddles at the edge of the tide behind him, caught a low-voiced order of O’Ryan’sgiven in Malay, and then saw the gleam again, nearer and much higher. The crawler was lifting himself from the sand in preparation for the final rush. He acted instantly. His first shot was deliberately high; but the flash of it showed him a yellow face scarcely more than seven yards away, malevolent and
evil; and cut out from the darkness the hooked knife in the man’s hand. It was but a glimpse seen in a momentary flash, but it sufficed. That hooked disembowelling knife made him shudder and steeled his heart; and he fired again instantly, the second shot treading so closely on the heels of the first as to make almost one sound. The wail of a man unexpectedly stricken told him that he had found his mark ; and, as it was followed by the sound of a heavy body plumping in the sand, from three or four directions came the noise of hurrying feet. “This way, sir, quick.” He stepped backward, and, as he did so, felt a hand clutch his ankle. He did not need to look down. Instantly he guessed that the man whom the Irishman had brought down to the beach had revived, and he acted in the same second of time, stamping ruthlessly with his other foot on what it found. There was a choking cry, a squirming under his heel, and the clutch about his ankle slackened. “For , God’s sake. Major ” came O’Ryan’s voice out of the darkness, and he began to run. It was high time. From all directions as it seemed came the soft padding of feet in the sand. There must be, he thought, at least half a score of men running towards him, but his start proved sufficient. He reached the edge of the tide to find a canoe half afloat, with two men with paddles and O’Ryan standing ready to push it off. “Tumble in, sir, quick.” He obeyed literally, falling between two thwarts ; and in the same instant of time the Irishman gave a great heave, and himself over the bow. scrambling m as the canoe, rocking wildly, took the deeper water. Hair-raising yells rent the darkness. A number of figures appeared at the waterside, and then the canoe grounded on some mud-bank. The paddlers exerted themselves to push it off again. From the shore come renewed yellm 2 as three or four of the pursuers took to the water. Marchington watched their heads bobbing among the rippling reflections of the stars; and whilst they were s ill fast saw one of the men stand upright and begin to wade forward. He groped for the automatic, which had fallen from his hand in the bottom of the canoe, and was still groping when a lurch and a glide backward told him that the canoe was off the mud again. In the same instant almost the craft tilted dangerously. He heard 0 Rya n swear a Dutch oath, and looked up in time to see him lean foiuard and drive his clenched fist into a ace just over the canoe’s edge. There was another violent lurch, the craft rocked rousl : v ’ Malays drove the forward v | ' sorouslv - 1 and the canoe shot behind ‘ " the bobbin ” heads shore° Ut and Of th XoCra ’ ion Came from the Tlopa r swimmers turned back. reached 0 ) 1 !, L later the canoe and Zllle i U W ' th s™™eck prow X S stern ; and when the bagfciumbkd Ibolrd” € tlm d ’ tbey bad bn^andT 11 ” l ’ ahU gulf. and began to move down the starlit “WUve ift". laUgbed in triumph. A etc diddled em, sir. By the time ley get down to the wharf we'll be out f the gulf, and once clear of the land the wind; and this craft K a Marchintgon laughed with him, and lo °ked in the direction of the black beach “Thot y ° St 111 tllC shadows of night liiat man you carried down, Mikewhy ” ’ ’ I surprised and half-scragged him, in the wood, sir; and thinking he might be the only one, I brought him with me. But when I heard the others, I knew that shure he was no use to keep; an’ that a " s ~ G,orr! A single lantern lit the silent landing place: and beyond the lanterns the town burned with soft light, whilst between the trees scattered lights from the houses twinkled like glow-worms. Across the water drifted the music of a gamelan orchestra. It ebbed, almost died to silence, then swelled in a violent blare; which again sank to a plaintive note that thrummed the very heart-strings. Marchington listened musingly, staring at the soft glow of the' lights, thinking of all that had happened since noon. In the darkness he visioned the face, and saw the challenge of the gay eyes of . the girl who, as he was assured, bad called to him across unknown leagues of sea: and as the port drifted astern an exultant feeling swept through him. A dark shape lifted itself to larboard. Against the stars he caught the dim outline of feathery palms;' and knew that the prahu was passing the island on which he had looked through the. port at noonday. He thought of tlie Mangkassar plodding diligently towards Batavia, remembered Kapitan Gisbert and his sage advice, and laughed suddenly. It was no
languorous lady with almond eyes and jewelled nostril that would be his romance ; but a girl with fiery, boyish curls, eyes that were gem-like, and the clean high spirit of his own race. They left the picture-book island astern; and looking backward he saw the peak of the volcano silhouetted against the velvet sky, and beheld a faint glow on - the veil of smoking cloud above it, testimony to the mountain’s flaming heart, which in unlooked-for hour might break out in fury eruption. Then as the gulf opened there came the first stir of the wind, the shouting of orders in Malay speech; the great mat sails were hoisted on the tripod masts, and the prahu began to gather way. “Clear away,” laughed O’Ryan at his shoulder. “An* now those Chinkies will never see so much as our heels. Like to turn in, Major. Mebbe ’twould be as well ■with that shoulder.” “Yes, perhaps it would.” “Then if ye’ll come this way.” He followed ’the Irishman along the deck towards the mainmast, in front of which was a thatched cabin with a sliding door one side and a small window on the other. The raised floor was of split bamboo covered with fine mats; a hammock was slung across one end; a small lamp swung from the roof; and, a last touch of civilisation, a small oval mirror hung on one wall. “Ye’ll find it cosy,” said O’Ryan, a touch of pride in his voice. “There isn’t a cockroach in it, and if we take water over the bows it runs under the floor. Good night, an’ pleasant dreams, sir.” The dreams came, but whether they were waking dreams or the normal ones of sleep, Pat Marchington was never quite sure. When the light was extinguished, from the hammock he could just make out the sheeny outline of the mirror, in which, curiously enough, was reflected a solitary star, the far blaze of which came through the unglazed window. Lying there, listening to the swish of the water overside, and reflecting on the events of the day, it held his eye; and its brightness was hypnotic. Presently, instead of being a black sheen , illuminated by a solitary star, became bright, and from it lookeutTorth Lola Ancaster’s face, astonishing in its beauty, the eyes a living challenge. They moved him beyond words with their hint of courage; with which, it seemed to him, there mingled a silent appeal. He lay there, entranced, responsive, and then for a little time the reflection of the star was the only thing that showed in the dark sheen of the mirror, dipping now up, now down as the prahu lifted or raced downward in the trough of the sea. Then again the mirror became bright, and the reflection in it was that of a white shore with greening heights behind. On the sand a fire was burning, and as he watched a man came along the beach with a string of brilliantlyhued fish in his hand. He was a man of medium, height, sallow skinned, darkhaired, with a scrub of black whiskers on cheeks and chin. Arrived at the fire, he threw the fish on the sand, and sat for a moment twiddling his fingers. There was no one else by the fire; but presently Marchington caught a flash of some living thing behind the greenery at the edge of the beach, and saw a pair of eyes watching the man by the fire; and as the wind shook the greenery apart, he beheld again Lola Ancaster’s face, troubled with a frowning look in her eyes. That she had cause for apprehension, her hiding behind that green screen seemed to indicate, and as lie himself watched in the helplessness that dogs one’s willingness in dreams, he saw the man by the fire turn, jump to his feet, and run to the bushes, whence in a flash the face of the girl disappeared, whilst the man still ran. Marchington shouted to the man and started in pursuit, and the' next moment found himself sitting up in the hammock, staring at the mirror, where again only the star reflection showed. He discovered bin,self in a perspiration, his heart beating violently, and tried to assure himself that what the mirror had reflected was no more than the stuff of dreams. But he had not fallen asleep ; he was sure of • a L’ and the '’ision had been remarkably vivid. He tried to set it aside, but it tumbled him greatly, for he was convinced that Lola Ancaster moved in the midst of grave perils, and that again through the velvet , night she had called him across the wide seas. bor a time he lay in the hammock, worrying. The reflection of the star disappeared through some chaflge in the prahu’s course; and since he could not sleep, he slipped to the matted floor and looked forth from the unglazed window. There was the shadow of high land against the stars, and ahead a lighthouse flashed and darkened and flashed again. He heard the shout of the Malay captain, and felt the sudden acceleration of the prahu’s pace. The shadow against the stars seemed to be racing by, whilst apparently the twinkling lighthouse was rushing to meet the vessel at breakneck speed. He knew then that the craft was in the grip of hurrying water, was being swept forward in one of the fierce currents with which these seas abound. He watched the land slide by, heard the Malay shouting orders again, and in an incredibly short time the phoros-light was abeam, and a second or two later astern ; whilst still the prahu flung forward, her course for the moment decided, not by her owner’s will, but by the surge and set of the waters. - As he sought the hammock anew he found a parable in the ship’s way. He himself was being swung forward like that, caught in an irresistible tide. Where it would carry him he did not know. The
islands, as O’Ryan had said, were like swarming bees. They clothed the blue of these seas as stars the -vault of heaven. There were myriads of them, some without name or inhabitant. T o discover that girl among these many dots of earth was a task as hopeless as the proverbial needle in the haystack, but somehow he was assured that he would find her. There were forces at work bringing them together, flinging him towards her as those fierce currents of the ocean were flinging the prahu onward. And with that comfortin<' assurance he fell asleep When he wakened the little cabin was fpil of pearly light; and knowing that morning was at hand he left the cabin and went out on the slopjng deck. To starboard was land the heights of which were plumed with clouds, which became pink and gold as the rim of the sun came up out of the sea. Abeam was golden beach, from which dark forests climbed to the clouds; and the blue of the sea as the light broadened was beyond words. Ahead a flock of small islands spread like green birds resting upon the sea; and overhead the frigate birds, black against the brightness, soared and wheeled above the empty sea. Marchington took all in with a single glance., then wheeled to look back upon the ships’ wake. There were islands there also, purple with distance; and by them a smudge of smoke that proclaimed a steamer; whilst in the blue between was a long prahu with sails that were like great brown wings. His eyes were still resting upon this speculatively, when he caught a step behind him; and O’Ryan’s voice broke on his ears : “Ye’re wondering about that prahu, Major, I guess?” “Yes, O’Ryan. It is coming along at a rattling pace, and one naturally considers the possibility of pursuit.” The Irishman laughed. “Ye can wipe that craft off your mind, sir. I was watchin’ her myself awhile back, an’ had a word with old Pawang there about her. He swears there wasn't a prahu of her size in port when we left Palelheira, so there’s no need to worry.” “But how about the steamer, O’Ryan “Going t'other way. AYc passed her nigh on two hours back.” “Good !” laughed Marchington. “Then one has an easy mind as well as a good conscience. But you wouldn't wager on our not being followed.” “That I would not!” laughed O’Ryan. “I know Chin Sang, and his resources are considerable. I’ll lay he's busy as the divvel in a tornado at this moment, with Carleton aidin’ an’ abettin’ him. But ’twill take thini a bit to spot us in these seas where prahus are as plentiful as moths in a garden. The big risk is the wireless. That tin kettle whose smoke ye see had it; an’ Chrn Sang is up to date in that. If he sinds out a call about us, that steamer or another may answer; an’ there’s Chin Sang’s sailin’ directions given.” “But we have a goodish start.” “Shure, we have, sir. An’ if we don't stop longer than need be at Ternate, we'll be at the tape .whilst Carlqton an’ the Chink are still runnin’. O’Ryan laughed and turned away; but Marchington, disquieted by the other’s words, still watched that distant smudge of smoke. The Irishman was right, of course. The risk lay in the wireless. He looked across the blue of the sea and thought that even now the message might be crackling from the steamer's aerials through the diamond air to the den of Chin Sang, who sat there like a yellow spider eager for the news of the flies that he desired. If it should chance to be so, then in an hour the chase would begin; and presently, somewhere on a distant beach, or in some lonely reach of sea, the clash would come; for, as yesterday had revealed, neither the Chinaman nor Carleton allowed scruples to clog their purposes. “Well ” He shrugged his shoulders, and gave a quick laugh. Disquiet vanished like a wisp of vapour. His eyes grew keen with the anticipation of battle; and then turned eastwards towards the sun, and the far horizon of the sea beyond which as he told himself a girl awaited his coming. The glow of battle died from eyes displaced by the light of dreams; and again there mounted within him the sure conviction that he followed a pre-destined way, that none could block or turn awav.
(To be continued.)
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/OW19270308.2.229
Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 3808, 8 March 1927, Page 62
Word Count
3,496THE NOVELIST Otago Witness, Issue 3808, 8 March 1927, Page 62
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