In Strange Company: A Story of Chili and the Southern Seas

"Mr. Ramsay – Madame Juanita."

She held out her hand and bade me welcome, and from that moment I was a lost man. What sort of fascination it was that she exercised over me I cannot say; I only know that when I left the "Orient" and stumbled out into the starlit night again I had forgotten Maud, forgotten my own impoverished condition, forgotten my self-respect, and was madly, desperately, absurdly in love with this beautiful and mysterious creature.

CHAPTER III

SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE

Somewhere or other I remember to have seen a picture of the two sorts of love which may enter man's life. I think it was called "Sacred and Profane Love," and it may possibly have been by one of the Old Masters. But wherever or whatever it was, it seemed to me that I had now had experience of both passions. Maud was the first, Juanita was the second. I had loved Maud for herself alone; Juanita fascinated me purely by her personal charms, and by a certain Bohemianism which, while it occasionally almost frightened me, held me in chains, that were to all intents and purposes stronger than links of iron. For it must not be imagined that my first visit to the "Orient" was my last. In fact, now that I had once fallen her victim, I was hardly to be found elsewhere. As the first proof of the power she exercised over me, I declined my old skipper's offer to ship for another cruise, preferring idleness and poverty ashore, with the opportunities it presented of seeing the woman I so slavishly adored, to a life of money-making and hardship at sea.

So day in day out found me by Juanita's side, either loafing in the hotel itself, or when she could leave her duties, boating in the bay, wandering about the island, or climbing Fortification Hill to admire the beautiful panorama visible from its summit. Looking back on that period, I am smitten with a feeling of intense shame. But at the time I lived only to be constantly by her side. Maud was as much forgotten as though she had never existed.

It must not be supposed, however, that with one so fair as Juanita I should have the field entirely to myself. Women of her stamp were too uncommon in Thursday Island to lack admirers. But among all my rivals there was only one of whom I entertained any fear – a Pole, and men said a titled refugee – by name Panuroff. He was a big, handsome man, with a peculiarly reckless air, certain to possess a great fascination for susceptible members of the opposite sex. Not that I mean in any way to infer that Juanita encouraged his advances, for I think, though she preferred him to the majority of those who paid court to her, they were not always on the best of terms. How she came to take to me so quickly I have never been able to understand, but somehow she was never tired of listening to my adventures, and particularly those relating to my sea career. On the point of my capabilities to take charge of and navigate a vessel she cross-questioned me continually, until I felt compelled to ask if she thought of setting up as a ship-owner herself, and wanted me to enter her employ. She laughed the matter off, saying that if she had money to invest it would certainly be in a schooner; but as she hadn't, well, she'd have to wait until she got it before talking about officers and such like. In fact, this idea of possessing a boat seemed, as far as I could judge, to be her only thought and aim in life. But her real idea, and how I figured in working it out, you shall, if you have not already guessed it, learn directly.

One night when we had thoroughly come to understand each other, I hurried down as soon as my evening meal was over to the "Orient." As most of the Pearling luggers were at sea, it was a slack time for hotel-keepers, and when I entered the bar Juanita was alone, hard at work upon her interminable calculations. For nearly an hour we remained in conversation. Then our tête-à-tête was interrupted by the entrance of a third party, who, as ill-luck had it, was none other than Count Panuroff before-mentioned. I could see that Juanita was not best pleased at his appearance, and during the time he remained in the room her behaviour towards him was barely civil. He noticed this, and his glances towards myself betokened a resentment that only waited an opportunity to take active form. Nor can I with truth aver that I did not let him see that I rejoiced at his discomfiture. When Juanita left him and returned to my side he sat himself down in a corner, and watched us out of sullen, half-closed eyes. I felt sure mischief was brewing, and I was not disappointed.

Partly for the purpose of annoying him, and partly to see how long he would sit in his corner, sulking like a bear with a sore head, I prolonged my visit until some time after the usual hour for closing. When I left the house it was nearly twelve o'clock – a rough, tempestuous night, with a strong wind blowing, and a full moon dodging inky clouds across a somewhat unhappy-looking sky. Leaving the Sea-Front I struck inland towards my abode, but I had not proceeded very far before my ear caught the sound of footsteps following me. Presently a voice I hardly recognized called upon me to stop. I did so, and turning, faced my pursuer. As you will have guessed, it was Panuroff. He came up to me, and clutching me by the arm, tried to speak. But his rage was so great that for the moment it not only deprived him of speech, but shook him like the palsy. When he found his tongue he blurted out —

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

He would have gone on repeating this for an indefinite time had I not thrown off his hand, and said —

"I advise you to be a little more careful, my friend, or you'll get yourself into trouble. In this country you won't be allowed to go about killing people just as you please."

My coolness only seemed to heap additional fuel on his already surcharged fires. He almost foamed at the mouth. Grasping my arm again, he hissed —

"Coward! coward! I knew you were a coward!"

Not being able to stand this, I did my best to knock him down. It was a futile attempt, however, for he leapt on one side, and in doing so struck me a heavy blow on the side of my face.

"There," he cried, almost dancing in the moonlight. "What now?"

"Now," I said, as quietly as I could under the circumstances, "you've done it, and I'll have your life if you're twenty times mad!"

"For once you talk like a man," he remarked. "Come with me, and we'll settle it now and for ever. She shall see who is the better man."

If I had any scruples left, that reference to Juanita obliterated them; and so side by side we tramped through the bush round the elbow of the hill to an open spot among ferns and aloe bushes, about the centre of the island. It was a strange place surrounded by giant ant-hills, which in many cases reared themselves quite eight feet above the ground, like monuments in a well-populated cemetery.

Here Panuroff stopped and took his coat off. I followed his example. Then from his breast he drew a sort of stiletto, with which, I suppose, he had armed himself on purpose for the present occasion. I had of course my sheath-knife. While we were making our preparations the moon emerged from behind a bank of clouds, and as she did so the wind dropped and the faint clang of eight bells came up to us from a steamer in the harbour.

I could hardly believe that I was standing face to face with a fellow-creature, my one aim and object being to take his life. But it is a strange fact that man is never so dangerous as when his passions are not roused, that is to say, when he is able to enter upon the work of butchery with a contemplative and evenly balanced mind. Contrary to what I should have expected, I had not the least fear as to the result.

For perhaps a minute we stood regarding each other. I could hear his excited breathing as he prepared for his spring. Then like a wild cat he gathered himself together, and leapt towards me. I sprang on one side, but not before his knife had grazed my arm. The struggle had commenced in downright earnest. Like game cocks, we circled round and round each other, waiting and watching for an opportunity to strike. It was no child's play, for we were both active men in first-class training.

Suddenly my foot caught in a boulder, and for a second my attention was diverted from his eyes. It was fatal; with one great bound he rushed in upon me, and clutching me round the neck, attempted to drive his knife between my shoulder and my neck. With the strength of despair I clutched the wrist of the hand that held the knife, and backwards and forwards, round and round, here, there, and everywhere about that little plot of ground we passed, swaying to and fro, breathing hard, and wrestling for our very lives. Surely such a struggle the island, with all its strange and mysterious population, could never have witnessed before! At last my right hand reached his throat – my left still held the wrist – I closed my fingers on his windpipe.

Such is the strange construction of the human mind, that at that moment, when both our lives trembled in the balance, I remember, distinctly, thinking what a wonderful contrivance the Adam's apple of the throat must be.

Further and further his head went back; his breath came from him in thick gasps. The moon shone clear, and by her light I could see the look of despair settling in his eyes. At last, to avoid being throttled, he fell to the ground, I with him. Here the battle recommenced, for both our holds were loosened by the fall. Rolling over, he seized upon me, and raised his knife; yet again I clutched the hand that held it, and with one gigantic effort threw him off; but the exertion was too much for me, and before I could rise he was upon me, and had stabbed me twice. I remember no more.

When I recovered my senses, I was too weak and faint to care very much where I was. But somehow, in a hazy sort of fashion, I got hold of the idea that I was back in John Trelsar's tent at Broken Hill. After a while, however, curiosity got the upper hand of indifference, and I re-opened my eyes to look about me. It was a strange sort of room that I found myself in, and one that it did not take me a year to see, had lately been in the occupation of Chinamen. A couple of celestial jumpers hung on pegs behind the door, and an opium pipe stood on a shelf upon the wall. Through the small window opposite my bed I could distinctly hear the sound of surf breaking on a shore, and as if to prove that my reasoning powers were in no way impaired by my terrible experience, I made it out that I must either be on one of the neighbouring islands, or on a part of Thursday which I had never visited. For several reasons I inclined towards the latter belief.

How I knew I was not in any proximity to the township itself was the fact, plainly discernible to one having experience in such matters, that the sea was not breaking on sand, but on shingle; and what was more important still, among mangrove trees. Now I knew that the beach on the settlement side of Thursday Island was sandy, while that on the other side I had heard was pebbly; on the former there were no mangroves, on the latter they abounded. But observation of these things was beyond me for very long, so, feeling tired, I turned my face to the wall, and was presently asleep again.

Many hours must have elapsed before I woke; when I did the sun had set, and the room would have been dark but for a candle burning on a table by my side. Rather dazed by my long sleep, I looked around me, and as I did so my eyes lighted upon the most extraordinary being I think I have ever beheld in my life.

He was an albino, and what was worse, a dwarf albino. He sat upon a high box, and was staring hard at me; his hair, very long and snow-white, was just moved by the draught from the window; and his eyes, which I discovered later to be of a peculiar shade of pink, flashed and twinkled like enormous rubies. All the time he cracked his finger-joints, first one way, then another, then backwards, then forwards, with a most alarming noise.

When he saw that I was awake, he scrambled down from his perch and approached me, saying in a curiously high-pitched voice —

"Ho! ho! my friend, so you are awake again! Well, you've had a wonderful nap, twelve hours on end, or I'm a Dutchman."

I answered that I was surprised to hear it, and went on to ask where I was, and how I came there.

"Well, that's a long story," he said, still cracking his fingers, "but if you want to hear it, I'll tell you. I found you on the bend of the hill early this morning, lying like a dead man, with pints of good blood run to waste round about you. From the look of the ground I fixed it, young man, that you'd been fighting. But as that was no business of mine, I didn't take any heed of it, but just picked you up, and brought you in here, where you've been ever since."

He did not tell me that had I been any other than John Ramsay he would have let me lie there. But the reason for that, and how I came to hear of it, you shall know later on.

Of course I thanked him for his charity, but again, like John Treslar, he would not hear of it. Among his many extraordinary talents, he numbered a knowledge of surgery, and under his care I made rapid progress towards recovery. Fortunately, though the wounds Panuroff had inflicted upon me were deep, they were by no means dangerous.

At the end of the week I was almost myself again. All the time, my strange little benefactor was indefatigable in his attentions, and pretended to take a wonderful interest in myself and my welfare. Among other peculiarities, he was as inquisitive as an old woman, and before I had known him a week, he had not only drawn from me the name of my antagonist (whom I was rejoiced to hear had fled the settlement, believing he had killed me), but had made himself conversant with my passion for Juanita. On his own side he was more reticent, and do what I would, I could not draw out of him either his business on the island, or in fact anything important connected with himself or his affairs. That he had seen more of the world than even the majority of those who consider themselves great travellers, I soon gathered; that he was for some years in Chili, was another thing I discovered. But beyond these two small circumstances, I could learn nothing of his past. One obligation he imposed in return for what he had done for me, and that was, that I should never mention him to any living soul, and especially not to Juanita.

"Why especially not to Juanita?" I asked, surprised that he should bring her into the matter.

"Because women wonder, and when they wonder they pry, and when they pry they make mischief, and when they make mischief they're the devil, and there isn't room for Satan and me in this house."

He paused for a minute, his twinkling little eyes watching me all the time, and then went on —

"You see, my appearance is against me, and as I'm sensitive on the point, I don't want to make new friends. There you have it in a nutshell. If you told your sweetheart anything about me, she'd want to see me, and then the mischief would be done."

Little knowing to what I was pledging myself, I readily gave the promise he asked of me, and then bidding him good-bye, set off across the island (for his house was, as I had conjectured, on the side farthest from the township) to Juanita.

I found her as usual in the bar, and her surprise at seeing me was either complimentary or not as I chose to take it. She informed me that she had made up her mind I had decamped from the island. And when I told her what had occasioned my absence, she said she had always thought something of the sort would happen, for Panuroff had dropped hints which frightened her. Why she had not warned me I could not make out, and indeed her whole attitude towards myself was extremely puzzling. Of course she knew I loved her, not only because she could see it in my face, but because I had reiterated the statement a thousand times or more; but though she professed to return my affection, at times I could not help a feeling that it was not quite as genuine as she pretended.

Just as before, her one thought was to procure a boat, in which to sail among the islands. Hardly a day went by without some reference to it, until I began to hate even the sound of the word "schooner." At last one night she asked me point blank if I could see any way to help her; letting me understand very plainly that her future treatment of myself would depend in a great measure upon my answer.

Though I knew such a thing was next door to impossible, I did not say so, but intimated that she should first tell me why she wanted to go. Then the whole mystery came out. Drawing me into a corner, with the prettiest little air of confidence, she told me the following remarkable story: —

"My Jack," she said, taking my hands in hers, and speaking with the foreign accent that lent such a charm to her simplest words, "have pity on your poor Juanita. I am in your hands entirely, for I have no one to advise me, save you. Now you shall know all my sad history. As I have so often told you, I am from Santiago, and it was from a convent there that I ran away to marry the young Englishman, who, you may have heard, so cruelly ill-treated me. Together we wandered here, there, and everywhere; always in debt, always in difficulty; to-day we had plenty; to-morrow we had nothing. My husband had squandered two fortunes already, and when we were at our last pinch, a third came to him. As you know is often the way, Jack, he suddenly grew as mean and stingy as before he had been spendthrift and reckless.

"Instead of living as became our new fortune, we literally starved. That he had drawn all his money from the bank I discovered; but what he did with it, or where he kept it, I could never find out. Then he fell ill, and the doctors said he must have a long sea voyage, and absolute rest, or his brain would become unhinged. If the truth were only known, I think it was so then.

"We were in San Francisco at the time, and I tried hard to persuade him to sail for England. He would not go, making the excuse that it would cost more money than he could afford. But as he had to have rest, he took passages for himself and for me (though he grudged my accompanying him) on board a tiny schooner trading among the islands.

"We set sail, but instead of the voyage doing him good, he grew weaker and weaker every hour. Oh, the horror of those days, I shall never forget it! At last he died, making the captain promise to bury him on an island we were close to at the time.

"The funeral over, we came on here. Having no money to take me further, I was compelled to remain in the island, but immediately on my arrival, I wrote to his lawyers, to see what they could tell me of my affairs. They replied that my husband had drawn his money from the bank in gold, and had hinted to them that he was going to bury it. But something further, mark you! That, to the best of their knowledge, he always carried the directions for finding it in a locket round his neck. As soon as I read that, I remembered that he did wear a locket, which he had once been furiously angry with me for attempting to open.

"So you see, Jack, nothing remains for me but to return to that island, dig up my husband's body, and recover the precious locket. Now I have told you my secret; I am in your hands entirely. I love you, and I trust you implicitly. If any one else finds the locket before me, I am ruined. Think what I have suffered in this place. Then tell me will you help me – yes or no?"