Part 32 (1/2)
More slowly now, the wind falling, the brigantine crept up the river, her crew alert with sheets and halyards as the devious windings of the stream rendered it necessary to trim the canvas at varying angles to catch the wind.
Slowly, too, in the shadow of that Mechlin spire, the horizon grew rough and elevated, taking shape in the serrated profile of a thousand gables and a hundred towers and cross-crowned steeples.
Once or twice, more and more annoyed as the time of their a.s.sociation seemed to grow more brief, Kirkwood approached the captain; but Stryker continued to be exhaustively absorbed in the performance of his duties.
Up past the dockyards, where spidery masts stood in dense groves about painted funnels, and men swarmed over huge wharves like ants over a crust of bread; up and round the final, great sweeping bend of the river, the _Alethea_ made her sober way, ever with greater slowness; until at length, in the rose glow of a flawless evening, her windla.s.s began to clank like a mad thing and her anchor bit the riverbed, near the left bank, between old Forts Isabelle and Tete de Flandre, frowned upon from the right by the grim pile of the age-old Steen castle.
And again Kirkwood sought Stryker, his carking query ready on his lips. But the captain impatiently waved him aside.
”Don't you bother me now, me lud juke! Wyte until I gets done with the custom hofficer.”
Kirkwood acceded, perforce; and bided his time with what tolerance he could muster.
A pluttering customs launch bustled up to the _Alethea's_ side, discharged a fussy inspector on the brigantine's deck, and panted impatiently until he, the examination concluded without delay, was again aboard.
Stryker, smirking benignly and ma.s.saging his lips with the back of his hand, followed the official on deck, nodded to Kirkwood an intimation that he was prepared to accord him an audience, and strolled forward to the waist. The American, mastering his resentment, meekly followed; one can not well afford to be haughty when one is asking favors.
Advancing to the rail, the captain whistled in one of the river-boats; then, while the waterman waited, faced his pa.s.senger.
”Now, yer r'yal 'ighness, wot can I do for you afore you goes ash.o.r.e?”
”I think you must have forgotten,” said Kirkwood quietly. ”I hate to trouble you, but--there's that matter of four pounds.”
Stryker's face was expressive only of mystified vacuity. ”Four quid? I dunno _as_ I know just wot you means.”
”You agreed to advance me four pounds on those things of mine....”
”Ow-w!” Illumination overspread the hollow-jowled countenance. Stryker smiled cheerfully. ”Garn with you!” he chuckled. ”You will 'ave yer little joke, won't you now? I declare I never see a loony with such affecsh'nit, pl'yful wyes!”
Kirkwood's eyes narrowed. ”Stryker,” he said steadily, ”give me the four pounds and let's have no more nonsense; or else hand over my things at once.”
”Daffy,” Stryker told vacancy, with conviction. ”Lor' luv me if I sees 'ow he ever 'ad sense enough to escype. W'y, yer majesty!” and he bowed, ironic. ”I '_ave_ given you yer quid.”
”Just about as much as I gave you that pearl pin,” retorted Kirkwood hotly.
”What the devil do you mean--”
”W'y, yer luds.h.i.+p, four pounds jus pyes yer pa.s.syge; I thought you understood.”
”My pa.s.sage! But I can come across by steamer for thirty s.h.i.+llings, first-cla.s.s--”
”Aw, but them steamers! Tricky, they is, and unsyfe ... No, yer gryce, the W. Stryker Packet Line Lim'ted, London to Antwerp, charges four pounds per pa.s.syge and no reduction for return fare.”
Stunned by his effrontery, Kirkwood stared in silence.
”Any complynts,” continued the captain, looking over Kirkwood's head, ”must be lyde afore the Board of Directors in writin' not more'n thirty dyes arfter--”
”You d.a.m.ned scoundrel!” interpolated Kirkwood thoughtfully.
Stryker's mouth closed with a snap; his features froze in a cast of wrath; cold rage glinted in his small blue eyes. ”W'y,” he bellowed, ”you bloomin'
loonatic, d'ye think you can sye that to Bill Stryker on 'is own wessel!”