CHAPTER V

THE MYSTERY

Hardly had Nathaniel fought his way through the thin crowd of startled spectators about the whipping-post before the enormity of his offense in interrupting the king’s justice dawned upon him.  He was not sorry that he had responded to the mute appeal of the girl who had entered so strangely into his life.  He rejoiced at the spirit that had moved him to action, that had fired his blood and put the strength of a giant in his arms; and his nerves tingled with an unreasoning joy that he had leaped all barriers which in cooler moments would have restrained him, and which fixed in his excited brain only the memory of the beautiful face that had sought his own in those crucial moments of its suffering.  The girl had turned to him and to him alone among all those men.  He had heard her voice, he had felt the soft sweep of her hair as he severed the prisoner’s thongs, he had caught the flash of her eyes and the movement of her lips as he dashed himself into the crowd.  And as he sped swiftly up the slope he considered himself amply repaid for all that he had done.  His blood was stirred as if by the fire of sharp wines; he was still in a tension of fighting excitement.  Yet no sooner had he fought himself clear of the mob than his better judgment leaped into the ascendency.  If danger had been lurking for him before it was doubly threatening now and he was sufficiently possessed of the common spirit of self-preservation to exult at the speed with which he was enabled to leave pursuit behind.  A single glance over his shoulder assured him that the man whom he had saved from the prophet’s wrath was close at his heels.  His first impulse was to direct his flight toward Obadiah’s cabin; his second to follow the path that led to his ship.  At this hour some of his men would surely be awaiting him in a small boat and once aboard the Typhoon he could continue his campaign against the Mormon king with better chances of success than as a lone fugitive on the island.  Besides, he knew what Casey would do at sundown.

At the top of the slope he stopped and waited for the other to come up to him.

“I’ve got a ship off there,” he called, pointing inland.  “Take a short cut for the point at the head of the island.  There’s a boat waiting for us!”

Neil came up panting.  He was breathing so hard that for a moment he found it impossible to speak but in his eyes there was a look that told his unbounded gratitude.  They were clear, fearless eyes, with the blue glint of steel in them and, as he held out his hands to Nathaniel, they were luminous with the joy of his deliverance.

“Thank you, Captain Plum!”

He spoke his companion’s name with the assurance of one who had known it for a long time.  “If they loose the dogs there will be no time for the ship,” he added, with a suggestive hunch of his naked shoulders.  “Follow me!”