CHAPTER VIII
Masks Off
VENABLE was wakened next morning, after a troubled sleep, by Garrity—who had also been summoned to the meeting in Mrs. Ivanoff’s cabin. Both men were in some perplexity over the cause of the summons.
“Any developments about Paul?” inquired Venable as they breakfasted in the mess cabin.
“Divil a one—the skipper seems to have ignored it,” said Garrity, wrinkling up his nose. “The body was sewed up an’ hove overboard. Parson, you look out for squalls! I dunno what’s up, but there’s queer doin’s aboard here, I’m thinkin’. And hang close to that gun I got ye.”
“It’s gone,” said Venable. “So are the two I took from the captain and mate.”
Garrity whistled, then was silent a moment.
“Damn’ queer!” he said. “It wasn’t their doin’s; the chink steward, most like. But lay low and say nothin’. I have two gats stowed away safe, if we got to use ’em; chances are, however, that there’s more to all this than we know. And remember, if that skipper gets his claws onto the fact that you aint no mate, he’ll trim ye right! He’s got sea law, mind. The old lady herself can’t save ye. I don’t like how things is turnin’ out, and that’s a fact, Parson! Remember, now, keep a still tongue and let me do the talkin’.”
Venable promised.
They started toward Mrs. Ivanoff’s quarters, but halted immediately in sheer astonishment. Approaching them was a man whose attire was strange, but whose face and figure were most unmistakable—those of the quondam stoker Shinski! He greeted them with a grin.
“Good morning, gents! I see dat you know me, huh?”
“Blast my eyes!” ejaculated Garrity. “If it aint Shinski! And look at the fancy clo’es on him!”
“Shinski, yes,” said the other, and gestured over his shoulder. “Come along—I was on de way to get you. We’re havin’ de meetin’ in de main parlor.”
“What the devil are you doing aboard here?” demanded Venable.
Shinski’s face changed. “I’m a passenger, Parson—and a gentleman, by de Lord! You remember dat!”
GARRITY sputtered in wrath, but at that instant appeared Abe Gerin, swinging along on his repaired crutch.
“Morning, good friends!” he cried out cheerfully. “I see you don’t know Serge Shinski in his real self! Come, come, let’s have no harsh faces, Mr. Garrity—you gentlemen are going to learn some astonishing things in a few moments; so save breath.”
Shinski turned upon him. “Where is Marie gone?”
The very beautiful face of Gerin set toward him like a mask, in which only the dark eyes lived and flamed.
“Marie?” he countered. “She is not to be present at the meeting. She is too filled with anger and old resentment to be impartial.”
Shinski threw up his arms. “Impartial!” he screamed. “Who in hell—”
“Shut up!” snapped Gerin. “None of your ranting now, Serge; I’m running this affair, and I mean to run it! You fool, do you want to quarrel with me now? With Boris Kryalpin aboard? Probably you don’t know that he’s an agent of Lenine at this minute—ah, that got to your thick head, eh? Well, if you want to match yourself against him, go ahead! But if you want me to handle him, you toe the line and say mighty little!”
Shinski, indeed, had changed countenance at mention of Boris and Lenine. He swallowed hard, but made no further comment. Abe Gerin motioned the stupefied Venable and Garrity to accompany him, and turned toward the newly installed saloon cabin. That cabin, intended to give comfort to the Romanoffs, now harbored the choicest collection of ignoble souls that had ever come out of Russia.
“Divil take it!” muttered Garrity. “What are these lads talkin’ about? Is it a madhouse we’re in, then?”
“Curb your tongue, old man,” said Venable, frowning anxiously.
Abe Gerin paused at the saloon door, waited until Shinski had. entered, then stopped Garrity and Venable.
“I must warn you,” he said in a low voice, “to restrain yourselves and say as little as possible. After this meeting, when you are on the bridge, Mr. Venable, I wish to see you alone. Until then, I beg of you, have patience. Enter!”
They obeyed him, wondering.
VENABLE saw Mrs. Ivanoff first of all, and at sight of her stricken face he felt a distinct shock. She looked ten years older; her face was set in stern, proud lines, and her sea-gray eyes were blazing like stars. Venable sensed a distinctly hostile atmosphere in the air.
Introductions followed. Boris Kryalpin was here, and upon every face except his was written determination, hatred or sullen suspicion. Pinsky and Deardorf were bearded, furtive men of middle age, their eyes snaky, their dirty fingers perpetually curling at their beards. Marks was a boy under twenty, with degenerate features, a limp cigarette hanging dead in the corner of his mouth, eyes lowering at everyone, and thickly crimson lips like a scarlet smear across the white of his face. Shinski was a notch above these, but imbued with their same low cunning and treachery.
When all save Boris Kryalpin were seated, the door was closed. Venable, having had a glimpse into things, marveled that Abe Gerin should make himself very inconspicuous in one corner, leaving the floor to Boris.
“We are assembled upon an errand of mutual explanation,” said Kryalpin, gracefully twirling his mustache, and dividing his attention between Venable, Mrs. Ivanoff and Gerin. “I regret, dear Madame Ivanoff, that I was forced to mislead you as to the character of your passengers. You may best judge of our character by the fact that, when I locked you in your cabin last night, we were forced to overcome the objections of that old fool who served you. He was buried this morning, I think.”
Boris paused, to let this statement sink in. Mrs. Ivanoff flinched perceptibly.
“Murderers and traitors!” she said, her voice low. “I know your characters—and too late, I know you, Boris Kryalpin! God will bring a vengeance upon you for this work. That is my last word to you.”
Shinski laughed, as did his companions. “God?” he said gutturally, and sneered. “We tried out God in Russia, huh? And where was he? Bah! You aristocrats—”
“Enough,” said Abe Gerin from his corner, and Shinski subsided.
“I am sorry that Marie is suffering from mal de mer and could not be present,” pursued Boris, speaking to Mrs. Ivanoff. “She has endured much from you and yours, that woman. She would be glad to see your death. But, my dear madame, you have served us well, and we do not expect to reward you so poorly.”
He turned now to Venable and Garrity.
“You are friends of comrade Abe Gerin, yonder, so you have been called in here that you might come to a proper understanding of things. In order that you make no regrettable errors, I would say that I have already interviewed Captain Hewson and his mate, and have reached a satisfactory basis of action with them.”
AT his statement, Venable saw Shinski dart a swift look at Abe Gerin, but the latter made no sign.
“Huh!” blurted out Garrity. “Bought ’em, ye have! They’d sell out to any divil that was loose from hell, them two birds would!”
Boris regarded him with narrowed eyes.
“I would advise you,” he said gently, “to moderate your language and views. You really are not needed aboard this ship, Mr. Garrity, because Comrade Marks is an excellent machinist, and your friend called Stormalong has already agreed to obey Captain Hewson’s orders—which are my orders. So be careful.”
Once more Shinski looked at Abe Gerin, alarm in his eyes. But Garrity, gulping down an oath, made no response. Venable said nothing at all.
Boris Kryalpin turned again to Mrs. Ivanoff, smiling thinly.
“Madame, I must inform you that we are not going to the United States. We all intend to go there eventually, but for the present there are slight objections to that course, and so we are going to Mexico instead. Comrade Shinski, I understand, has already made full arrangements for our reception there.”
Mrs. Ivanoff kept her eyes on his, keeping silence, but her eyes seemed to disturb the charming equanimity of Boris, who became less diplomatic and more direct in his next words.
“We have brought many beautiful jewels out of Russia—witness the Shirvan diamond, which is now, with the others, in the keeping of Marie,” he said, not with out a sigh. “You also have had some luck, madame, obtaining many relics whose value we overlooked, and no doubt a goodly share of glittering stones also. We know that they are aboard here, and of course could obtain them very speedily by making a search of the ship. However, we are delicate in such things, madame, and much prefer to arrive at a proper understanding with you.”
A touch of cold cruelty lighted up his face.
“You will do two things, madame,” he pursued. “You will keep to your cabin, except at certain hours of the day when you may take exercise on deck; and you will at once deliver to us all valuables now in your possession. On these conditions, we will guarantee that your life will be safe.”
“And if I refuse,” said Mrs. Ivanoff with contempt, “you will murder me?”
Boris smiled. “No, my former princess,” he answered. “But in that case, I think you will wish that we had murdered you!”
Garrity came to his feet, his hoarse voice breaking in upon the scene.
“Whatever you do, Par—Mr. Venable goes with me,” he said, tense with repression. “I stick with you. If ye’ll excuse me, ladies an’ gents, I’ll be off out o’ this. Mr. Venable can be makin’ any bargain he likes for me.”
GARRITY left the cabin, the bang of the door drowning the violent oaths that burst from him after he departed. Young Marks, who had been eying Garrity without love, had ventured a growling protest, but Abe Gerin stilled him immediately.
“I will answer for Mr. Garrity,” said Venable, his voice deeply poised. He was rather amazed at his own calmness, for he realized that he stood in actual danger, and that only careful stepping would save him from very disagreeable experiences. The fate of Paul was yet fresh before his mind.
Boris eyed him curiously, appraisingly, then nodded.
“Very well. And you, madame?”'
“I wish to know,” said Mrs. Ivanoff steadily, “just what disposition you intend to make of me and of this ship. I realize that I am helpless against you, but—”
“Have no fear, madame!” And Boris laughed smoothly. “Captain Hewson has undertaken to make certain changes in the ship en route to avoid recognition of her while at sea; and she will never reach land at all. You understand, even in Mexican ports one must proceed with great caution. Your ship will presumably have foundered shortly after leaving China.
“As for yourself, madame, you will remain with us until we have landed in Mexico, when you will be set at liberty. That is all. Will you now give us the valuables, or shall we have to seek them?”
Mrs. Ivanoff made a gesture of dismissal. “You shall have them,” she said, as she came to her feet. “If you fine gentry are now finished with me, I shall go to my own cabin.”
“Certainly, madame.” Boris bowed and opened the door for her. “We shall come presently for the—ah—valuables! They are to remain in the custody of Marie—whom you have not encountered. I believe that she is very anxious to meet Your Highness.”
Mrs. Ivanoff passed him without heeding his half-mocking, half-sneering words. But as she went, Venable saw that the red mark upon her cheek was standing out like fire, and her eyes met his for a moment. In her eyes of sea-gray he read a startling and thrilling message. It was as though she had called to him; her eyes seemed to smite into his brain with their clear, penetrating sweetness; yet there was a vibrant energy in them also—and above all, a personal appeal, a call, a wordless touching of soul. That one look left Eric Venable shaken and alarmed.
Boris turned now to Venable.
“I would suggest,” he said, “that you and Mr. Garrity obey the orders of Captain Hewson and make no protest. Do you think the advice good?”
Venable rose, shook himself, and a smile stole across his gaunt, sun-browned features.
“I think the advice is good,” he said, forcing a whimsical lightness into his manner. “As I understand it, the ship remains under the command of her officers; we have merely changed owners.”
“Exactly,” assented Boris. “As for compensation—”
The voice of Abe Gerin spoke up from the corner.
“I will myself arrange that with Mr. Venable,” he said. “We had best discuss it among ourselves first. With your permission, Mr. Venable, I shall come to the bridge shortly.”
Venable nodded assent, and turned to the door.
Once outside, he came to a halt at the rail, drawing the salt air into his lungs with great gulps. He felt in need of the clean sunlight and sea, of the clear heavens; he felt as though he had been smirched to the soul in that cabin, as though he had come into contact with vile and unclean things.
Yet very little time had passed. As he stood there, he heard eight bells sounding from forward. Mechanically he turned to take up his duty on the bridge. When he reached it, Mr. Jason gave him a rather sickly grin and indicated the course.
“We’re all in the know, I guess,” said the mate, “and no hard feelin’s, eh! All right. And if the skipper blusters, don’t you pay no heed. That’s just his way. No hard feelin’s!”
Venable merely nodded, for he could not trust himself to speak. He realized now why Garrity had left that cabin.