Kilgorman

I took my red scarf--the very scarf I had waved so vainly at the _Scheldt_ scarce three weeks ago--and spreading it wide waved it with all the energy of which I was capable. How long the minutes seemed then! If she gave me the go-by, my last chance would go with her. Even as I raised myself to wave, my head reeled, and a dimness clouded my eyes.

Then, with a wonderful bound at my heart, half surprise, half joy, I saw the brig suddenly put about, while a flag waved at her stern showed that my signal had been seen. A minute later the welcome sight of a boat coming towards me a.s.sured me that I was saved, and with a cry of thankfulness to Heaven my weary head drooped, and the mist in my eyes became darkness.

What roused me was the consciousness of two strong arms round me, and the taste of liquid fire between my lips. My saviours, who were Dutchmen, had lifted me from the spar, and were plying me with spirits as I lay more dead than alive in the stern-sheets. I looked up. The sails of the brig, flapping against the wind, towered above me, and her dark hull as she swung over us hid the sun. The boat pulled round her stern to reach the lee-ladder. As we pa.s.sed I glanced up, and my eyes fell on two words, painted in gilt letters--

"_Scheldt_. Rotterdam."

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

THE HIGHWAYMAN ON THE DELFT ROAD.

The next thing I clearly remember was crawling up on deck, clad in a Dutch sailor's jacket and cap (I had been stripped for action when I was pitched into the waves out of the _Zebra_), and seeing a stretch of red- tiled roofs and windmills and tall towers on the bank of the broad stream up which we sailed on the tide. Rotterdam was in sight.

I had lain in a sort of stupor since I was carried on board twenty-four hours ago. The Dutchmen had been kind to me in their rough way, particularly as they took me for a Frenchman. I thought it prudent not to undeceive them, and pa.s.sed myself off to the skipper as a castaway citizen of the Republic One and Indivisible, which my knowledge of the language made easy.

But, as you may imagine, now that I stood on the deck of the _Scheldt_, my mind had room for but one thought. Miss Kit--where was she?

Even had her curiosity brought her on deck yesterday to see the rescue of the poor foreigner, she would hardly have recognised in the smoke- begrimed, swollen features of the half-drowned man her old squire and comrade of long ago. Still less would Martin, who had never set eyes on me for four years, discover me. I knew him well enough as I came upon him just then leaning over the bulwark taking an eyeful of Dutch scenery.

He turned round as I approached and nodded.

"_Comment vous portez-vous_?" said he, using up one of the slender stock of French phrases he had at command.

I replied in French that I did well, and was entirely at monsieur's service, and madame's too, for I heard, said I, monsieur did not travel alone.

Martin, who only half-comprehended, looked at me doubtfully, and turned on his heel.

Presently, as I leaned over the port watching the river, I

"Convent of the Carmelite Nuns?" said the latter; "that is outside the town some distance. Is mademoiselle to be taken there?"

"Ay; those are my orders."

"Will she go?"

"She must," said Martin.

"She has not been very obedient so far," said the skipper with a laugh.

"You have not received much encouragement."

"What do I want encouragement for," growled Martin, "from her?"

"Perhaps the encouragement of Mees Norah, her maid, has been enough for you. But I warn you, my young lady will not travel so easily by land as by sea. You will need a troop of horse to take her to the Carmelites, I expect."

This was said with a sneer at Martin's qualifications as a squire of dames which that gentleman did not enjoy.

"I can manage my own business," said he in an unpleasant voice. "I shall take her there in a carriage, and if she resists she will have to find out she is not her own mistress."

"As you will," said the skipper. "I thank my stars I have not the task."

Indeed, I came to learn later on that he had good reason for so wis.h.i.+ng.

For Miss Kit, as soon as ever she discovered the vile plot which had been practised on her, had retired to her cabin, and held every one on board the _Scheldt_ at arm's-length except her maid, refusing to see Martin, of the skipper, or any one, and fortifying herself like a beleaguered garrison. Her cabin had a private companion ladder by which she could reach the deck without pa.s.sing through the men's quarters, and after the first day or so, the p.o.o.p was yielded to her as her own territory without protest.

How was I to communicate with her now? I must if possible prevent her incarceration in the convent, from which I knew escape would be difficult.

I retired below and hastily scrawled on a piece of paper the following note:--

"Miss Kit,--The half-drowned man who was taken on board yesterday was he who writes this, and who is ready to die for you. You are to be carried in a coach to-night to the Convent of the Carmelite Nuns. Make all the delay possible before you consent to go, and so give me time to get beforehand on the road, where I will find means to take you to a place of safety.--Your devoted--

"Barry Gallagher."

This paper I folded, and returned on deck in the hope of finding some means of getting it into my lady's hands.

Just as I pa.s.sed the cook's galley, I came upon Norah, the maid, coming out with a tray on which was a little bottle of wine and a plate of biscuits. As we suddenly met, the tray slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, spilling the contents of the bottle and scattering the biscuits.

"Ach, but you're clumsy!" exclaimed the damsel.

It was on the point of my tongue to return the compliment in her own language; but I remembered myself, and with a Frenchman's politeness begged ten thousand pardons.

"Permit that I a.s.sist you to make good the damage, mademoiselle," said I.

This mollified her, and she bade me hold the tray and pick up the biscuits while she went for another bottle of wine.

When she returned, nothing would content me but that I should carry the tray for her to the door of her lady's cabin, which she graciously permitted, with a coquettish glance at Martin as we pa.s.sed him on deck.

My agitation, if I betrayed any, was not all due to the fascinations of Miss Norah, and Martin had no cause to be jealous on that score. The truth was, that between the two top biscuits on the dish I had slipped my little note!

"_Merci bien_, monsieur," said Norah at the door as she took the tray; "and it's sorry I am I called you names."

"Any name from those pretty lips," began I, but she left me to finish my compliment to the outside of the door.

When we moored alongside the Quai, I renewed my thanks to the Dutch skipper, and offered to return him his coat. But he would not hear of it. Only, said he, if I was disposed to-morrow to lend a hand at unlading, he would consider the trouble of fis.h.i.+ng me out of the North Sea sufficiently repaid. This I promised by all means to do; and glad to get free so easily, stepped ash.o.r.e with the first to land.

As I pa.s.sed the brig's p.o.o.p I thought I saw a face peep from the little cabin window, and after it a little hand wave. I put my own hand to my lips as a symbol both of secrecy and devotion, and taking advantage of the bustle attending on the arrival of a fresh craft, slipped out of the crowd into the street beyond.

Here, among the first, I met a priest, to whom I made obeisance.

"Holy father," said I in French, "I beg you to direct me to the Convent of the Carmelite Nuns of this town, to which I have a message of importance from Ireland. I am a stranger here, and have but just landed."

The priest eyed me suspiciously.

"The holy sisters receive no visitors but the clergy," said he. "I will carry your letter."

"Alas! I have no letter. My message is by word of mouth, and I am free to impart it to no one but to the lady superior. Does monseigneur suspect me of ill motives in seeking the convent?"

He liked to be called monseigneur; and looking me up and down, concluded the holy sisters had little to fear from me.