The Haunted Ship

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 8, 24 February 1909, Page 60

The Haunted Ship

By

ADELINE SERGEANT

x£»TEPHE HARGRAVE stood on the quay waiting for the gangway to he lowered. He looked at the boat —an Australian liner of some size—with pleasurable anticipation in his eye. He was fond of the sea, and after some months of hard work in the London slums he was delighted with the prospect of a six weeks’ voyage, and at the end of it a good appointment in Sydney. The world was going well with him, and he was glad of it. Ho was a young medical man with very high qualifications, an athletic frame and a well-featured face, full of keen intelligence. “ Fine boat that.” said a man's voice behind him.” Then another—that of a seafaring man this times “Ay, ay, sir! Fine enough to look at. Ton're not going by her, are you, sir?” “ No, no. I’m only here to see her off. What’s wrong with her?” “ I didn't say anything was wrong.” Well, you didn't speak as if you liked her.” Hargrave shifted his position so as to see the speakers. One was a shipping clerk apparently; the other a grizzled man in a blue jersey, with long boots up to his knees. There’s some vessels as is lucky, and some as is unlucky,” said the sailor. “ The Sunflower is said to be unlucky, that is all.” “ Why. she's done her voyages all right. Never had an accident, as safe a boat as you could find.” “ Ay, ay, sir! But them as goes in her don’t always come back again.” And as his hearer waited for more information, he added impressively: “Never a vy’age without a suieide—or a murder, the Lord knows which. Three lady passengers on one vy’age. Once, the captain: another time, the captain; next vy’age. the second mate, lalst vy’age "twas the doctor.” ‘‘You don’t expect me to believe all that, do you, Jorkins?” “As yon please, sir. Other people’ll tell you the same. Overboard every one of them—passengers, officers, two captains, second mate, ana the doctor.” “ And what on earth was tire reason?” “God knows,” said the old man, shaking his head, solemnly. Doctor Hargrave felt inclined to crossexamine him on the subject of these startling stattments, but at that moment his attention was diverted in an uncxstartling statements, but at that moment peeed but pleasing way. and the unhickientirely out of his mind. Indeed, it suddenly appeared to him as if the vessel were transformed into a kind of floating Eden. For the one girl that he had over admired—with whom he was, in fact, on the very point of failing in love —was at that moment approaching the gangway. “ Miss Bernard! Can it be Miss Bernard?” he said to himself, and thought of the sailor’s uncanny tales no more. Rose Bernard smiled at him with a! slight increase of colour in her fair cheek. “Are you really going to Australia?” she asked him, when he joined her on dei k. "How curious that we should meet here! My father is ordered to take tin voyage for his health.” “ I had no idea that I should be so fortunate.” said Stephen: and he meant what he said. Rose Bernard was but slightly known to him, and had passed, lie thought, completely out of his sphere; Ind now i hat he saw her again, he wondered at iiis own attempted callousness in leaving England without attempting even to wish her good-bye. What had he been thinking about? Well, fate was kind, to him, at any rate, and he would be Miss Bernard’s fellow traveller and daily companion for tlie next six weeks. “We shall have a pleasant voyage I think,” he said, with a new light in his ” 1 hope so,’’ she answered sweetly. And it was with a cheerful countenance that he manoeuvred for a seat beside her at table, and a place for his deckchair mar th" sheltered corner in which that of Rose Bernard was ensconced. The voyage began well. The weather was fine, and the passengers were soeia• fcdlii; the cabins comfortable, and this

food good. The only thing to which Mr Hargrave took objection was the manner of the captain. He was a silent, stern-looking man, with anxious eyes and a suspicious expression, and Hargrave took note of him because he and the Bernards sat very near the captain’s end of the table. Their gaiety was in no way increased by his vicinity. The only advantage of their position, Sir George Bernard said, was that they shared the ger vices of a very deft and clever steward, who waited on the captain himself and on a few of his neighbours. Stephen scarcely agreed with Sir George on this point. He did not like the steward—an olive-skinned, lean-fac-ed man, evidently of Easter origin, but giving his name as Solomons. “ Suleiman” would have suited his face better, Stephen thought, and he was confirmed in his belief that the man was an Oriental when he came across him one night, crouching on his haunches in a remote corner, and playing a weird monotonous tune on a smooth pipe or reed—the sort of tune and instrument that Hargrave had heard and seen in the desert, but never before upon an English ship bound for Australia. It reminded him of the notes of a snake charmer whose performances he had witnessed on the banks of the Nile. He drew nearer to him, intending to ask the musician a question or two. But as soon as Solomons saw’ that •he was observed he put up his pipe, Hute or flageolet, and slid away into the darkness. “ Aji odd fellow!” said Stephen to himself. He became conscious after a time that strange rumours were current among the passengers. More than one person had heard of the extraordinary and inexplicable deaths that had occurred on board the Sunflower, and the story lost nothing in the telling. Hargrave wondered sometimes whether it was the knowledge of his predecessors’ fate which made the captain look so grimly saturnine. The poor man’s melancholy partook, perhaps, of the nature of premonition. For, strange to say, his death took place in mid ocean under circumstances which recalled every detail of the other mysterious deaths on board. In the early dawn Captain Small committed suieide by throwing himself from the bridge of the ship into the sea. The alarm was given, the ship stopped, and boats lowered; but the waves were running high, and the captain's body had been instantly swept out of sight. The cause of the suicide remained a mystery. Hargrave became uneasy. He recalled the words of the. sailor on the wharf, and he heartily wished that the Bernards had never chosen the Sunflower for their ship. He had no fears on his own account, but Sir George was a nervous excitable man, and Rose—well, Rose was a strong woman, but Hargrave was anxious on her account. For by this time he knew well enough that he was in love with her, and he believed’that she was at least predisposed in Ills favour. He might not have won her yet, but he firmly be Jieved that 'he would win her soon. The gloom which had been caused by the captain’s death had scarcely lightened when another tragedy occurred. This time it was one of the stewards who fell or jumped overboard. He had been ailing all day, his companion*? said, and at night had become delirious, though not violently so. They had seen him apparently asleep in his bunk, ami had been awakened at dawn by a cry of “ Man overboard ! ” The bunk was empty; the unfortunate steward was never seen again. “ It’s an odd thing,” said Hargrave confidentially to the ship’s doctor, with whom he had struck up a friendship. “ Infernally mid ! ” said the doctor. “ The men saw it's a ghost !. Such rubbish ! ” Hargrave leaned his chin on his hand and looked thoughtful. “ It looks to me as if there were some outside agency at work- some human agency, you know.” “ Thai's what the Board said when we were on shore. The second mate was suspected of murder, but the poor chap went overboard himself on the next voyage, and there was an end of it.” “ What on earth can it be J” reflected

Stephen. “ It looks to me like—some sort of poison.” ” We’ve never been able to examine one of the victims, that’s the difficulty, said t'he doctor. Hargrave was silent for » moment or two. He yvas thinking deeply, and he did not wish to eoniide alt hie ideas the doctor, who was a good fellow, but of no great capacity. Presently he said: “ Tire deaths seem to all have occurred about the same time—early in the morning. “ Yes; time of lowest vitality.” ” Have any special precautions been taken? Extra watchmen, for instance?” " N-no, I think not.” “ There ought to be. If we could save one of the patients, we might discover the secret.” " I’ll speak about it,” said the doctor; and a man was detailed by his advice, for watchman duty. Hargrave was even then not satisfied. He had ascertained what seemed to him an important fact, that all—or all that he could discover—of the suicide cases among the passengers had come from one part of the ship—from a row of deck-cabins near the captain’s bridge, and not very far from the steward’s quarters. This seemed to him curious and significant. As it happened. Sir George and Rose Bernard occupied two of these deck cabins, which were the coolest on board, and Hargrave, not content wit’ll the merely official watch, took to patrolling that part of the deck himself in the small hours of the morning. “ Nothing shall happen to Rose,” he said, “ or in Rose's neighbourhood, without my being near to help.” .In the early hours of the day, in the Indian Ocean. Hargrave was one morning startled by the watchman’s cry, and by the flash of a white figure past him—hovering like a bird on the taffrail, ready and eager, as it seemed, for death. He was just in time. He drew down the quivering, struggling, shrieking creature before it dawned upon him that It was Rose herself whom he was rescuing. Yes, Rose., delirious, mad with fever, or poison, or fright—what was it ? —Rose whom he carried back to her cabin, and with whom he stayed to render assistance to Doctor Sparks, who was, of course, professionally in attendance. •Doctor Sparks wanted to administer an opiate, but Hargrave stayed his hand. “Ammonia and brandy, as quick as you can,” he said. “ Look here 1 ” And with his hand he indicated a mark upon the girl's arm—a strange, triangular mark, surrounded by a dark purple swelling. “ Snake-bite 1 ” said Doctor Sparks, almost below his breath, and he did Hargrave's bidding, without a word, although both men believed that the remedies camo too late. Indeed, it was almost a miracle that she recovered. But her youth and perfect health, as well as the strong stimulants that were administered, pulled her through t.he worst, and by noon next day although very weak, she was still alive. She could give no account of the cause of her delirium, and was quite content to be told vaguely that she had “ a touch of the sun,” and that Stephen—her lover, her promised husband—had saved her life. But there was a distinct purpose—a threatening purpose—-in Stephen Hargrave’s eye, as he left the cabin, when he was assured of Rose’s recovery, and made his way in search of some one. whom he wished to find. He was happy, but he was bent on vengeance, tool It- was as he expected. The man Solomons was there, apparently engaged in a furtive search for something, for he was turning up coils of rope, moving sacks or tarpaulins, insinuating his fingers between woodwork and iron, in a curiously suggestive manner. Hargrave watched him for a little while before he spoke. Solomons whistled softly three times, then, believing himself unnoticed, he brought out his little ffute or pipe, and began to play a tune. “It went like this, did it not?” said Hargrave, quietly: ami he hummed the notes of the strange melody which ho had heard before when Solomons played to himself upon the. deck. The man started up, with livid terror on his olive face and in his staring eye”. His nationality became clear enough ati that moment. He muttered a prayer in Arabic, and touched his forehead and his breast. “ Allah ! Allah ! What does my lord want of me?” “ What is it yon seek?” said Hargrave sternly. “My lord, mercy! It was noti my

fault! The little devil slipped from m, while I slept ” “ You had been smoking hashish, I suppose? Well, take your pipe and summon him back again, or he will do more mischief.” “ You will let him go free if I call him back ?” "11l kilt you if you don’t!'” said Hargrave, with sudden passion. “80 it> is you that have murdered a dozen mea and women in the boat!” " Not me, effendi—only the serpent that I have carried with me many years. It is not always deadly. It has bitten ma oft without ill effect. And* I keep it safe —safe—except when I sleep too heavily and forget to feed it; then —sometimes ” “ Call it. Let me see it. It cornea to you when you play ?” " I was a snake charmer on the banka of the Nile,” saiH the man. He put his flute to his lips, and blew a few soft notes. Hargrave had armed himself already with a strong riding-whip and a word to one of the ship’s officers would bring him additional help in ease of need. The man played on. The Europeans stood round him in q, ring, looking and listening, at first in vain. At last there was a rustle—a movement among the coils of rope. Then out it slipped—a lissom, beautiful, deadly thing, marked with black and purple and green, and lifted its neck and swayed from side to side in time with the musio —the venomous creature that had crawled away from its master now and then to drive some innocent victim to an agonizing death. For its poison always produced a deathly thirst, and a madness of desire for the cool waters of the silent shining sea. “We have him now!” cried the ship’s officer, as he raised a weapon and aimed it at the reptile. But he was a moment too late. Solomons had seized the snake by ths neck, and reached the taffrail at one bound. They heard him laugh wildly as he plunged with it into the glittering depths below. And tliat was the last suieide on board the Sunflower.