Part 4 (2/2)

”Well,” she said, ”I almost think you owe Mr. Austin a little, too. If he hadn't stopped the _Estremedura_ you would probably have been in Madeira now.”

Again Muriel Gascoyne astonished Austin, for though it was evident she had not been aware of his presence, she showed no embarra.s.sment, and smiled at him with a simplicity which, though he had not expected it from her, had in it the essence of all womanly dignity.

”Yes,” she said, ”I realise that. Mr. Austin, Harry has been looking for you everywhere.”

Austin made her a little grave inclination, and then, because she seemed to expect it, shook hands with her.

”I am glad that the man you have promised to marry is one of my friends,” he said. ”There is not a better one in these islands.”

He did not remember what Miss Gascoyne said, and perhaps it was not of any particular consequence, but when she left them it happened that he and Jacinta did not look at one another. There was, in fact, an almost embarra.s.sing silence, and through it they heard the rhythmic swing of a soft Spanish waltz, and the deep-toned murmur of the sea. Then Jacinta laughed.

”I wonder what you are thinking?” she said.

Austin smiled, somewhat drily. ”I was endeavouring to remember that there are a good many things the _Estremedura_'s sobrecargo must dispense with. It is exceedingly unlikely that anybody will ever leave me eight thousand pounds.”

”I fancy there are a good many of us who would like to have a good deal more than we will probably ever get,” said Jacinta. ”It can only be a very few who ever hear the celestial music at all, and to them it comes but once in their life.”

Austin looked at her quietly. ”A little while ago I should not have considered Miss Gascoyne capable of hearing it; but now, and because I know the man she has promised to marry, I almost think she will, at least occasionally, be able to catch an echo of it. It must be difficult to hear that orchestra once and forget it.”

Jacinta turned to him with a curious little smile in her eyes. ”You and I are, of course, sensible people, and fancies of that kind have nothing to do with us. In the meanwhile, it is really necessary that I should appear in one or two of the dances.”

Austin made a little gesture that might have expressed anything, and she rose and left him standing on the veranda.

CHAPTER IV

A BIG CONTRACT

It was the day after the dance at the Catalina, and Austin was running into Las Palmas harbour in a powerful steam launch which had been lent him to convey certain doc.u.ments to a Spanish steamer. The trade-breeze had veered a little further east that day, as it sometimes did, and the full drift of the long Atlantic sea came rolling insh.o.r.e. The launch was wet with spray, which flew up in clouds as she lurched over the white-topped combers that burst in a chaotic spouting on a black volcanic reef not far away from her. It also happened that the coaling company's new tug had broken down a few minutes earlier, and when the launch drove past the long mole the first thing Austin saw was a forty-ton coal lighter, loaded to the water's edge, drifting towards the reef. There was a boat astern of her, out of which a couple of Spanish peons seemed to be flinging the water, preparatory to abandoning the lighter to her fate, but Austin could see very little of the latter. The sea washed clean across her, and she showed no more than a strip of sluicing side amidst the spray.

What became of her was no business of his, but when the whistle of a big grain tramp rolling across the mouth of the harbour, and apparently waiting for her coal, roared out a warning, it occurred to Austin that the Spaniards in the boat might have considerable difficulty in pulling her clear of the reef against the sea. Accordingly, he unloosed the launch's whistle, and while it screeched dolefully, put his helm over and ran down upon the lighter. She was wallowing sideways towards the reef when he rounded up close alongside and saw, somewhat to his astonishment, that there was a man still on board. He was very black, though the spray was dripping from his face, and the seas that swept over the lighter's deck wet him to the knees. Austin shouted to him:

”I'll run round to leeward, Jefferson, so you can jump!” he said.

The wet man swung an arm up. ”Stand by to take our rope. I'm not going to jump.”

Austin considered. He was by no means sure that the launch had power enough to tow the lighter clear, and the long white seething on the jagged lava astern of her suggested what would happen if she failed to do it.

”Come on board. I haven't steam to pull her off,” he said.

Jefferson made an impatient gesture. ”If you want me, you have got to try.”

Austin wasted no more time. It was evidently valuable then, and he knew his man. He signed to the Spanish fireman to back the launch astern, and clutched the rope Jefferson flung him as she drove across the lighter's bows.

”I can tow her just as well with you on board here,” he roared.

”I guess you can,” and a sea wet Jefferson to the waist as he floundered aft towards the lighter's stern. ”Still, you're going to find it awkward to steer her, too.”

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