Cursed

Again Hal picked up his cases, and strode down the walk, against the rain and gale. At the gate he paused, triumphant.

“To hell with this place!” he cried. “To hell with the whole business and with all o’ you!”

Then he passed through the gate, along the hedge, and vanished in the boisterous storm.

Up in Hal’s room, old Ezra was still convulsed with senile grief. The captain, his face white and lined, had sunk down on the bed and with vacant eyes was staring at the books and papers strewn there in confusion.

All at once his attention focused on a sheet of paper whereon a few words seemed vividly to stand out. He advanced a shaking hand, picked up the paper and read:

The curse must be fulfilled, to the last breath, for by Shiva and the Trimurthi, what is written is written. But if he through whom the curse descendeth on another is stricken to horror and to death, then the Almighty Vishnu, merciful, closes that page. And he who through another’s sin was accursed, is cleansed. Thus may the curse be fulfilled. But always one of two must die. Tuan Allah poonia krajah! It is the work of the Almighty One! One of two must die!

Carefully the old man read the words. Once more he read them. Then, with a smile of strange comprehension and great joy, he nodded.

“One of two – one of two must die!” said he. “Thank God, I understand! At last – thank God!”

CHAPTER XXXVIII

CAPTAIN BRIGGS FINDS THE WAY

The full significance of the curse burning deep into his brain, old Captain Briggs sat there on the bed a moment longer, his eyes fixed on the slip of paper. Then, with a new and very strange expression, as of a man who suddenly has understood, has chosen and is determined, he carefully folded the paper and thrust it into the pocket of his bathrobe. He stood up, peered at Ezra, advanced and laid a hand upon the old man’s shoulder.

“Ezra,” said he in a deep voice, “there’s times when men have got to be men, and this is one of ’em. You and I have gone some pretty rough voyages in years past. I don’t recall that either of us was ever afraid or refused duty in any wind or weather. We aren’t going to now. Whatever’s duty, that’s what we’re going to do. It’ll maybe lead me to a terribly dark port, but if that’s where I’ve got to go, as a good seaman, so be it.

“And now,” he added in another tone, “now that’s all settled, and no more to be said about it.” Affectionately he patted the shoulder of the broken-hearted Ezra. “Come, brace up now; brace up!”

“Cap’n Briggs, sir,” choked Ezra, distraught with grief, “you ain’t goin’ to believe what Master Hal said, be you? He accused himself o’ stealin’ that there money, to pertect me. It was really me as done it, sir, not him!”

“We won’t discuss that any more, Ezra,” the captain answered, with a smile of deep affection. “It doesn’t much signify. There’s so much more to all this than just one particular case of theft. You don’t understand, Ezra. Come now, sir; pull yourself together! No more of this!”

“But ain’t you goin’ to do anythin’ to bring him back, cap’n?” asked the old man. He got up and faced the captain with a look of grief and pain. “That there boy of ourn, oh, he can’t be let go to the devil this way! Ain’t there nothin’ you can do to save him?”

“Yes, Ezra, there is.”

“Praise God fer that, cap’n! You hadn’t ought to be too hard on Hal. You an’ me, we’re old, but we’d oughta try an’ understand a young un. Young folks is always stickin’ up the circus-bills along the road o’ life, an’ old uns is always comin’ along an’ tearin’ ’em down; an’ that ain’t right, cap’n. You an’ me has got to understand!”

“I understand perfectly,” smiled the captain, his eyes steady and calm. “I know exactly what I’ve got to do.”

“An’ you’ll do it?” Ezra’s trembling eagerness was pitiful. “You’re going’ to do it, cap’n?”

Alpheus Briggs nodded. His voice blended with a sudden furious gust of wind as he answered:

“I’m going to do it, Ezra. I’m surely going to.”

“An’ what is it?” insisted Ezra. “Run after him an’ bring him back?”

“Bring him back. That’s just it.”

“Praise the Lord!” The old man’s eyes were wet. “When? When you goin’ to do it?”

“Very soon, now.”

“You got to hurry, cap’n. We mustn’t let anythin’ happen to our Hal. He’s run kinda wild, mebbe, but he’s everythin’ we got to love. Ef you can git him back agin, we’ll be so doggone good to him he’ll hafta do better. But you mustn’t lose no time. Ef he gits aboard that there Kittiwink an’ tries to make sail out through the Narrers, he’s like as not to git stove up on Geyser.”

The captain smiled as he made answer:

“I sha’n’t lose any unnecessary time, Ezra. But I can’t do it all in a moment. And you must let me do this in my own way.”

The old man peered up at him through tears.

“You know best how to chart this course, now.”

“Yes, I believe I do. To save that boy, I’ve got to make a journey, and I’ll need a little time to get ready. But just the minute I am ready, I’ll go. You can depend on that!”

“A journey? I’ll go too!”

“No, Ezra, this is a journey I must take all alone.”

“Well, you know best, cap’n,” the old fellow assented. “But ef you need any help, call on!”

“I will, Ezra. Now go to your room and rest. You’re badly used up. There’s nothing you can do to help, just now.”

“But won’t you be wantin’ me to pack y’r duffel? An’ rig Bucephalus?”

“When I want you, I’ll let you know,” smiled Briggs. With one hand still on the old man’s shoulder, his other hand took Ezra’s in a strong clasp.

“Ezra,” said he, “you’ve always stood by, through thick and thin, and I know you will now. You’ve been the most loyal soul in this whole world. No needle ever pointed north half as constant as you’ve pointed toward your duty by Hal and me. You’re a man, Ezra, a man– and I’m not ashamed to say I love you for it!”

His grip tightened on the old man’s hand. For a moment he looked square into Ezra’s wondering, half-frightened eyes. Then he loosened his grasp, turned and walked from the room.

Along the hall he went, and down the stairs. His face, calm, beatified, seemed shining with an inner light that ennobled its patriarchal features.

“Thank God,” he whispered, “for light to see my duty, and for strength to do it!”

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door opened, and Dr. Filhiol staggered in, admitting a furious gust of wind and rain. With great difficulty he was managing himself, holding the injured dog. Ruddy was yelping; one leg hung limp and useless.

For a tense moment the doctor confronted Briggs. He pushed the door shut, with rage and bitterness.

“And you, sir,” he suddenly exclaimed, “you go against my orders; you leave your bed and expose yourself to serious consequences, for the sake of a beast – who will do a thing like this!”

Furiously he nodded downward at the dog.

The captain advanced and, with a hand that trembled, caressed the rough muzzle.

“Hal?” asked he, under his breath. “This, too?”

“Yes, this! Nearly killed the poor creature, sir! Kicked him. And that wasn’t enough. When the dog still tried to follow him, grabbed him up and dashed him down on the steps. This leg’s broken. Ribs, too, I think. A miracle the dog wasn’t killed. Your grandson’s intention was to kill him, all right enough, but I guess he didn’t want to take time for it!” Filhiol’s lips were trembling with passion, so that he could hardly articulate. “This is horrible! Injury to a man is bad enough, but a man can defend himself, and will. But injury to a defenseless, trusting animal – my God, sir, if I’d been anything but a cripple, and if I’d had a weapon handy, I’d have had your grandson’s blood, so help me!”

The captain made no answer, but set his teeth into his bearded lip. He patted the dog’s head. Ruddy licked his hand.