I certainly had spilt the fat into the fire this time. Inside of five minutes the passage outside was full of men. But during that time I had been an active Irishman. In front of me and around me I had piled a barrier of boxes and barrels.
"Who's in there?" Bothwell called.
I fired through the door. Some one groaned. There was a sudden scurry of retreating footsteps, followed by whisperings at the end of the passage. These became imperative, rose and fell abruptly, so that I judged there was a division of counsel.
Presently Bothwell raised his voice and spoke again.
"We've got you, whoever you are. My friend, you'll have a sick time of it if you don't surrender without any more trouble. Do you hear me?"
He waited for an answer, and got none. I had him guessing, for it was impossible to know how many of us might be there. Moreover, there was a chance of working upon the superstition of the natives among the crew. The cook had very likely reported that he had seen a ghost.
Except a shot out of the darkness no sound had come from me since. So long as I kept silent the terror of the mystery would remain. Was I man or devil? What was it spitting death at them from the black room?
"We're going to batter that door down," went on Bothwell, "and then we're going to make you wish you'd never been born."
The voices fell again to a whispered murmur. Soon there would be a rush and the door would be torn from its hinges. I made up my mind to get Bothwell if I could before the end.
Above the mutterings came clearly a frightened soprano.
"What is it, Boris? What are you going to do?"
Evelyn had come out of her room to try to save me.
"Just getting ready to massacre your friend," her cousin answered promptly.
"Mr. Sedgwick?"
Terror shook in the voice that died in her throat.
Bothwell bayed deep laughter.
"O-ho! My friend from Erin once more—for the last time. Come out and meet your welcome, Sedgwick."
"Suppose you come and take me," I suggested.
"By God, I will! Back with you into that room, girl."
A door slammed and a key turned.
Still the rush did not come. I waited, nerves strung to the highest pitch. One could have counted sixty in the dead silence.
I knew that some devilish plan had come to the man and that he was working out the details of it in his mind.
"Say the word, Cap," Fleming called to him impatiently.
"Not just yet, my worthy George. We'll give the meddler an hour to say his prayers. But I'm all for action. Since it isn't to be a funeral just yet, what do you say to a marriage?"
"I don't take you."
"H-m! Hold this passage for a few minutes, George. You'll see what you'll see."
A key turned in a lock. When I heard his voice again the man had stepped inside the cabin used by Evelyn. It lay just back of the storeroom and the portholes of the two rooms were not six feet apart. Every word that was said came clearly to me.
"So you thought you'd trick me, my dear—thought you'd play a smooth trick on your trusting cousin. Fie, Evie!"
"What are you going to do to Mr. Sedgwick?" she demanded.
"There's been some smooth work somewhere. I grant you that. How the devil did he get aboard here? He didn't come alone. If he did, what has become of the boat? Speak up, m'amie."
"Do you think I'd tell you even if I knew?" she asked scornfully.
He laughed softly, with diabolical enjoyment.
"I think you would—and will. I have ways to force open closed mouths, beloved."
"You would—torture me?"
"If it were necessary," he admitted coolly.
She answered in a blaze of defiance.
"Get out your iron cubes for my fingers, you black-hearted villain!"
"Not for your soft fingers, ma cherie. I kiss them one by one as a lover should. Shall we say for your friend's fingers? If you won't talk, perhaps he will."
"Are you all tiger, Boris? Isn't there somewhere in your heart a spark of manhood?" she sobbed, her spirit melted at my danger.
"Rhetorical questions, Evie. Shall we come to business? How did your soon-to-be-deceased lover come on board? Who brought him? What were his plans?"
"If I tell you, will you spare him?" she begged.
"I'll promise this," he assured her maliciously. "If you don't tell I'll not spare him."
She told all she knew except my plan of rescue. As soon as she mentioned the boat in which I had come the fellow hurried up on deck to intercept it.
I could hear a boat scraping against the side of the schooner as it was being lowered. Fleming and two others got in and paddled back and forth among the bushes. They found nothing.
My friends had managed to slip away unseen and were headed for the Argos. You may believe that I wished them a safe and speedy voyage.
Bothwell came down the forecastle ladder swearing. He went straight to Evelyn. Before he opened the door he was all suavity once more.
"They've got away this time. Just as well perhaps. We'll be able to concentrate our attention on the wedding festivities. Can you be ready in half an hour, dear heart?"
"Ready for what?" The words choked in her throat.
"To make your lover a happy man. This is our wedding night, my dear."
"Never! I'd rather lie at the bottom of the bay. I wouldn't marry you to save my life."
"H-m! You exaggerate, as is the manner of your charming sex. Now I'll wager that you'd marry me to save—why, to save even that meddling Irishman who is listening to our talk."
She strangled a little cry of despair.
"Why do you hate him so? Is it because he is so much better and braver than you?"
"I don't hate him. He annoys me. So I step on him, just as I do on this spider."
"Don't, Boris. I'll give you all my share of the treasure. I'll forgive you everything you've done. I'll see that you're not prosecuted. Be merciful for once."
"Don't get hysterical, Evie. Sedgwick understands he has got to pay. He took a fighting chance and he has lost. It's all in the game." The villain must have looked at his watch, and then yawned. "Past 10:30. Excuse me for a half hour while I settle your friend's hash. Afterward I'll be back with the priest."
"No—no! I won't have it. Boris, if you ever loved me—Oh, God in heaven, help me now!"
I think that in her wild despair she had flung herself on her knees in front of him. Her voice shook, broke almost into a scream.
"Are these—dramatics—for yourself or for him?" Bothwell asked with a sneer.
"Don't kill him! Don't! I'll do whatever you say."
"Will you marry me—at once—to-night?"
I spoke up from the porthole where I was listening.
"No, she won't, you scoundrel! As for me, I'd advise you to catch your hare before you cook it."
"I'm on my way to catch it now, dear Sedgwick, just as soon as I break away from the lady," he called back insolently.