the crusade of the excelsior-第27节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



make　him　show　us　his　bigger　boat。〃



It　was　an　unfortunate　suggestion；　for　the　Captain；　who　had　listened

with　an　insane　chuckle；　and　allowed　himself　to　be　taken　lightly　by

the　hand；　again　caught　sight　of　the　prostrate　fisherman。　　A　yell

broke　from　himhis　former　frenzy　returned。　　With　a　cry　of

〃Treachery！　all　hands　on　deck！〃　he　threw　off　Hurlstone　and　rushed

into　the　water。



〃Help！〃　cried　the　young　man；　springing　after　him；　〃It　is　madness。

He　will　kill　himself！〃



The　water　was　shallow；　they　were　both　wading；　they　both　reached　the

boat　at　the　same　time；　but　the　Captain　had　scrambled　into　the

stern…sheets；　and　cast　loose　the　painter；　as　Hurlstone　once　more

threw　his　arms　about　him。



〃Hear　me；　Captain。　　I'll　go　with　you。　　Listen！　　I　know　the　way

through　the　fog。　　You　understand：　I'll　pilot　you！〃　　He　was

desperate；　but　no　longer　from　despair　of　himself；　but　of　another；

he　was　reckless；　but　only　to　save　a　madman　from　the　fate　that　but　a

moment　before　he　had　chosen　for　himself。



Captain　Bunker　seemed　to　soften。　　〃Get　in　for'ard；〃　he　said；　in　a

lower　voice。　　Hurlstone　released　his　grasp；　but　still　clinging　to

the　boat；　which　had　now　drifted　into　deeper　water；　made　his　way　to

the　bow。　　He　was　climbing　over　the　thwarts　when　a　horrified　cry

from　the　fisherman　ashore　and　a　jarring　laugh　in　his　ear　caused　him

to　look　up。　　But　not　in　time　to　save　himself！　　The　treacherous

maniac　had　suddenly　launched　a　blow　from　an　oar　at　the　unsuspecting

man　as　he　was　rising　to　his　knees。　　It　missed　his　head；　but　fell

upon　his　arm　and　shoulder；　precipitating　him　violently　into　the　sea。



Stunned　by　the　shock；　he　sank　at　first　like　lead　to　the　bottom。

When　he　rose　again；　with　his　returning　consciousness；　he　could　see

that　Captain　Bunker　had　already　hoisted　sail；　and；　with　the

assistance　of　his　oars；　was　rapidly　increasing　his　distance　from

the　shore。　　With　his　returning　desperation　he　turned　to　strike　out

after　him；　but　groaned　as　his　one　arm　sank　powerless　to　his　side。

A　few　strokes　showed　him　the　madness　of　the　attempt；　a　few　more

convinced　him　that　he　himself　could　barely　return　to　the　shore。　　A

sudden　torpor　had　taken　possession　of　himhe　was　sinking！



With　this　thought；　a　struggle　for　life　began；　and　this　man　who　had

just　now　sought　death　so　eagerlywith　no　feeling　of　inconsistency；

with　no　physical　fear　of　dissolution；　with　only　a　vague；　blind；

dogged　determination　to　live　for　some　unknown　purposea

determination　as　vague　and　dogged　as　his　former　ideas　of　self…

destructionsummoned　all　his　energies　to　reach　the　shore。　　He

struck　out　wildly；　desperately；　once　or　twice　he　thought　he　felt

his　feet　touch　the　bottom；　only　to　find　himself　powerlessly　dragged

back　towards　the　sea。　　With　a　final　superhuman　effort　he　gained　at

last　a　foothold　on　the　muddy　strand；　and；　half　scrambling；　half

crawling；　sank　exhaustedly　beside　the　fisherman's　net。　　But　the

fisherman　was　gone！　　He　attempted　again　to　rise　to　his　feet；　but　a

strange　dizziness　attacked　him。　　The　darkening　landscape；　with　its

contracting　wall　of　fog；　the　gloomy　flat；　the　still；　pale　sea；　as

yet　unruffled　by　the　faint　land　breeze　that　was　slowly　wafting　the

escaping　boat　into　the　shadowy　offingall　swam　round　him！　　Through

the　roaring　in　his　ears　he　thought　he　heard　drumbeats；　and　the

fanfare　of　a　trumpet；　and　voices。　　The　next　moment　he　had　lost　all

consciousness。



When　he　came　to；　he　was　lying　in　the　guard…room　of　the　Presidio。

Among　the　group　of　people　who　surrounded　him　he　recognized　the

gaunt　features　of　the　Commander；　the　sympathetic　eyes　of　Father

Esteban；　and　the　fisherman　who　had　disappeared。　　When　he　rose　on

his　elbow；　and　attempted　to　lift　himself　feebly；　the　fisherman；

with　a　cry　of　gratitude；　threw　himself　on　his　knees；　and　kissed　his

helpless　hand。



〃He　lives；　he　lives！　your　Excellencies！　　Saints　be　praised；　he

lives！　　The　herothe　brave　Americanothe　noble　caballero　who

delivered　me　from　the　madman。〃



〃Who　are　you？　and　whence　come　you？〃　demanded　the　Commander　of

Hurlstone；　with　grave　austerity。



Hurlstone　hesitated；　the　priest　leaned　forward　with　a　half　anxious；

half　warning　gesture。　　There　was　a　sudden　rustle　in　the　passage；

the　crowd　gave　way　as　Miss　Keene；　followed　by　Mrs。　Markham；

entered。　　The　young　girl's　eyes　caught　those　of　the　prostrate　man。

With　an　impulsive　cry　she　ran　towards　him。



〃Mr。　Hurlstone！〃



〃Hurlstone；〃　echoed　the　group；　pressing　nearer　the　astonished　man。



The　Comandante　lifted　his　hand　gravely　with　a　gesture　of　silence；

and　then　slowly　removed　his　plumed　hat。　　Every　head　was　instantly

uncovered。



〃Long　live　our　brave　and　noble　ally；　Don　Diego！　　Long　live　the

beautiful　Dona　Leonor！〃



A　faint　shade　of　sadness　passed　over　the　priest's　face。　　He　glanced

from　Hurlstone　to　Miss　Keene。



〃Then　you　have　consented？〃　he　whispered。



Hurlstone　cast　a　rapid　glance　at　Eleanor　Keene。



〃I　consent！〃







PART　II。　　FREED。





CHAPTER　I。



THE　MOURNERS　AT　SAN　FRANCISCO。





The　telegraph　operator　at　the　Golden　Gate　of　San　Francisco　had　long

since　given　up　hope　of　the　Excelsior。　　During　the　months　of

September　and　October；　1854；　stimulated　by　the　promised　reward；　and

often　by　the　actual　presence　of　her　owners；　he　had　shown　zeal　and

hope　in　his　scrutiny　of　the　incoming　ships。　　The　gaunt　arms　of　the

semaphore　at　Fort　Point；　turned　against　the　sunset　sky；　had

regularly　recorded　the　smallest　vessel　of　the　white…winged　fleet

which　sought　the　portal　of　the　bay　during　that　eventful　year　of

immigration；　but　the　Excelsior　was　not　amongst　them。　　At　the　close

of　the　year　1854　she　was　a　tradition；　by　the　end　of　January；　1855；

she　was　forgotten。　　Had　she　been　engulfed　in　her　own　element　she

could　not　have　been　more　completely　swallowed　up　than　in　the

changes　of　that　shore　she　never　reached。　　Whatever　interest　or　hope

was　still　kept　alive　in　solitary　breasts　the　world　never　knew。　　By

the　significant　irony　of　Fate；　even　the　old…time　semaphore　that

should　have　signaled　her　was　abandoned　and　forgotten。



The　mention　of　her　namealbeit　in　a　quiet；　unconcerned　voicein

the　dress…circle　of　a　San　Francisco　theatre；　during　the　performance

of　a　popular　female　star；　was　therefore　so　peculiar　that　it　could

only　have　come　from　the　lips　of　some　one　personally　interested　in

the　lost　vessel。　　Yet　the　speaker　was　a　youngish；　feminine…looking

man　of　about　thirty；　notable　for　his　beardlessness；　in　the　crowded

circle　of　bearded　and　moustachioed　Californians；　and　had　been　one

of　the　most　absorbed　of　the　enthusiastic　audience。　　A　weak　smile　of

vacillating　satisfaction　and　uneasiness　played　on　his　face　during

the　plaudits　of　his　fellow…admirers；　as　if　he　were　alternately

gratified　and　annoyed。　　It　might　have　passed　for　a　discriminating

and　truthful　criticism　of　the　performance；　which　was　a　classical

burlesque；　wherein　the　star　displayed　an　unconventional　frankness

of　shapely　limbs　and　unrestrained　gestures　and　glances；　but　he

applauded　the　more　dubious　parts　equally　with　the　audience。　　He　was

evidently　familiar　with　the　performance；　for　a　look　of　eager

expectation　greeted　most　of　the　〃business。〃　　Either　he　had　not

come　for　the　entire　evening；　or　he　did　not　wish　to　appear　as　if　he

had；　as　he　sat　on　one　of　the　back　benches　near　the　passage；　and

frequently　changed　his　place。　　He　was　well；　even　foppishly；　dressed

for　the　period；　and　appeared　to　be　familiarly　known　to　the　loungers

in　the　passage　as　a　man　of　some　social　popularity。



He　had　just　been　recognized　by　a　man　of　apparently　equal　importance

and　distinction；　who　had　quietly　and　unconsciously　taken　a　seat　by

his　side；　and　the　recognition　appeared　equally　unexpected　and

awkward。　　The　new…comer　was　the　older　and　more　decorous…looking；

with　an　added　formality　of　manner　and　self…assertion　that　did　not；

however；　conceal　a　certain　habitual　shrewdness　of　eye　and　lip。　　He

wore　a　full　beard；　but　the　absence　of　a　moustache　left　the　upper

half　of　his　handsome　and　rather　satirical　mouth　uncovered。　　His

dress　was　less　pronounced　than　his　companion's；　but　of　a　type　of

older　and　more　established　gentility。



〃I　was　a　little　late　coming　from　the　office　to…night；〃　said　the

younger　man；　with　an　embarrassed　laugh；　〃and　I　thought　I'd　drop　in

here　on　my　way　home。　　Pretty　rough　outside；　ain't　it？〃



〃Yes；　it's　raining　and　blowing；　so　I　thought　I　wouldn't　go　up　to

the　plaza　for　a　cab；　but　wait　here　for　the　first　one　that　dropped　a

fare　at　the　door；　and　take　it　on　to　the　hotel。〃



〃Hold　on；　and　I'll　go　with　you；〃　said　the　young　man　carelessly。　　〃I

say；　Brimmer；〃　he　added；　after　a　pause；　with　a　sudden　assumption　of

larger　gayety；　〃there's　nothing　mean　about　Belle　Montgomery；　eh？

She's　a　whole　team　and　the　little　dog　under　the　wagon；　ain't　she？

Deuced　pretty　woman！no　make…up　there；　eh？〃



〃She　certainly　is　a　fine　woman；〃　said　Brimmer　gravely；　borrowing

his　companion's　lorgnette。　　〃By　the　way；　Markha