Part 23 (2/2)

”There is coal to be had at Sierra Leone.”

”And there are a British Consul and Government authorities. You're loaded down to the water's edge with s.h.i.+pping Acts, and the _c.u.mbria_'s still upon your register. Do you suppose they are going to let her out again, as she is, if we once go in there?”

Austin fancied it was scarcely likely. The requirements of the paternal Board of Trade are, in fact, so onerous that English owners not infrequently register their s.h.i.+ps under another flag; while it occurred to him that consul and surveyor would have a fit of indignant horror if they saw how the enactments were complied with on board the _c.u.mbria_.

”No, sir,” said Jefferson. ”She's going straight across to Las Palmas when she leaves this creek. That's Spanish, and a few dollars go a long way in Spain. Besides, it's not quite certain that we'll leave the creeks at all this season.”

Austin straightened himself suddenly. ”What do you mean?”

”Only that I'm not going home without the gum.”

There was a little silence, and during it Austin endeavoured to adopt an att.i.tude of resignation. It was his belief that the _c.u.mbria_ would be floated, or the project given up, when the rains came, that had animated him through the toil he had undertaken. Another month or two would, he had expected, see the task accomplished; but now it might, it seemed, continue indefinitely, and he shrank from the thought of a longer sojourn in the land of shadow. Then, with a little effort, he slowly raised his head.

”To be candid, that is a good deal more than I counted on when I made the bargain,” he said. ”Still, I can't well go back on it now. There is coal to be had in Dakar, too, but it would cost a good deal to bring even a schooner load here, though we could, per contra, load up oil in her. Have you the money?”

Jefferson drummed with his fingers upon the table. ”That's the trouble.

I have a little left, but I'm not quite sure I could get it into my hands without the mailing to and fro of signed papers.”

”Some of the West-coast mailboats call at Dakar. I might get the coal and a schooner on a bond there. Of course, the people would want a heavy profit under the circ.u.mstances.”

”Three or four times as much as they were ent.i.tled to, any way,” and a little glint crept into Jefferson's eyes. ”Now, it's quite usual for the man who does the work to be glad of the odd sc.r.a.ps the man with the money flings him for his pains, but it's going to be different with this contract. I haven't the least notion of working here to make the other fellow rich. If we buy the coal it will be at the market value, cash down. The trouble is, I don't quite know where I'm going to get it.”

”Well,” said Austin, slowly, ”a means of raising it has occurred to me.

You see, as seems to have been the case with you, there is money in the family, and ethically I really think a little of it belongs to me. It is not--for several reasons--a pleasant thing to ask for it. In fact, I fancied once I'd have starved before I did so, but it couldn't be harder than what we have been doing here. One could cable to Las Palmas, and a credit might be arranged by wire with one of the banking agencies there.”

”Your people would let you have the money?”

Austin laughed, a trifle harshly. ”Not exactly out of good-will, but, if I worded that cable cleverly, they might do it to keep me here. I don't know how it is in your country, but in ours they're seldom very proud of the poor relation. In fact, some of them would do a good deal to prevent his turning up to worry them. I think there are occasions when a man is almost warranted in levying contributions of the kind.”

Jefferson's eyes twinkled. ”You are a curious, inconsequent kind of man.

You worry over those Spaniards who have no call on you, and then you propose to bluff your own people out of their money.”

”If I had been one who always acted logically I should certainly not have been here. As it is, I'll start to-morrow, and wire my kind relations that, failing a draft for two hundred pounds, I'm coming home in rags by the first steamer. I almost think they'll send the money.”

Jefferson stretched out a lean hand suddenly, and laid it on his comrade's arm. ”It's going to hurt you, but you can't get anything worth while without that. You can send them back their money when we get her off; but if you let anything stop you now you'll feel mean and sorry all your life.”

”Yes,” said Austin, ”I fancy I should. It's rather a pity, but one can't always be particular. In the meanwhile, I'll see Tom about the launch.”

He went out, and, coming back half an hour later, threw himself down on the settee, and was fast asleep when Jefferson, who had been busy about the pump, came in and stood a moment looking down on him. Austin's face was worn, and thinner than it had been when he reached the _c.u.mbria_; the damp stood beaded on it, and his hair lay wet and lank upon his pallid forehead.

”I guess the raising of that money is going to be about the hardest thing you ever did, but you'll do it,” said Jefferson. ”I've got the kind of man I want for a partner.”

Austin, who did not hear him, slept on peacefully, and steamed away down river early next morning; while it was late on the second night, and the launch was out at sea, when he sat, very wearily, with his hand upon her helm, looking out across the long, smooth undulations. A half-moon hung low to the westward, and they came up, heaving in long succession from under it, ebony black in the hollows, and flecked with blinks of silver light upon their backs. Austin only saw the latter, for he was looking into the dusky blueness of the east, though it was only by an effort he kept himself awake. During the last few days a feeling of limp dejection had been creeping over him.

The launch was steaming slowly, with only a little drowsy gurgle about her propeller as she swung and dipped to the swell, though she rolled uneasily with the weight of the big oil puncheon high up in her. Bill, the fireman, was crouched, half asleep, beside the clanking engine, and two very sick men lay forward beneath a ragged tarpaulin. Though the surf had been smoother than usual, Austin did not know how he had brought them all out across the bar.

There were many stars in the heavens, and by and by, as he blinked at the soft darkness with aching eyes, he saw one that seemed unusually low down and moved a little. Then, shaking himself to attention, he made out a dim glimmer of green, and became sensible of a faint throbbing that crept softly out of the silence. He leaned forward and touched the fireman.

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