The Courage of Captain Plum by James Oliver Curwood (management books to read txt) 📖

him drew his secret from him before he had thought. "I am going to take you from the island!"
With his words there came again that sound of a great gun rolling from the direction of St. James. With a frightened cry the girl staggered to her feet, and as she stood swaying unsteadily, her arms half reached to him, Nathaniel saw only mortal dread in the whiteness of her face.
"Why didn't you go? Why didn't you go with Neil?" she moaned. Her breath was coming in sobbing excitement. "Your ship is--at--St. James!"
"Yes, my ship is at St. James, Marion!" His voice was tremulous with triumph, with gladness, with a tenderness which he could not control. He put an arm half round her waist to support her trembling form and to his joy she did not move away from him. His hand was buried in the richness of her loose hair. He bent until his lips touched her silken tresses. "Neil has told me everything--about you," he added softly. "My ship is bombarding St. James, and I am going to take you from the island!"
Not until then did Marion free herself from his arm and then so gently that when she stood facing him he felt no reproof. No longer did shame send a flush into his face. He had spoken his love, though not in words, and he knew that the girl understood him. It did not occur to him in these moments that he had known this girl for only a few hours, that until now a word had never passed between them. He was conscious only that he had loved her from the time he saw her through the king's window, that he had risked his life for her, and that she knew why he had leaped into the arena at the whipping-post.
The words she spoke now came like a dash of cold water in his face.
"Your ship is not bombarding St. James, Captain Plum!" she exclaimed. Darkness hid the terror in her face but he could hear the tremble of it in her voice. "The _Typhoon_ has been captured by the Mormons and those guns are--guns of triumph--and not--" She caught her breath in a convulsive sob. "I want you to go--I want you to go--with Neil!" she pleaded.
"So Casey is taken!"
He spoke slowly, as if he had not heard her last words. For a moment he stood silent, and as silently the girl stood and watched him. She guessed the despair that was raging in his heart but when he spoke to her she could detect none of it in his voice.
"Casey is a fool," he said, unconsciously repeating Obadiah's words. "Marion, will you come with me? Will you leave the island--and join your brother?"
The hope that had risen in his heart was crushed as Marion drew farther away from him.
"You must go alone," she replied. With a powerful effort she steadied her voice. "Tell Neil that he has been condemned to death. Tell him that--if he loves me--he will not return to the island."
"And I?"
From her distance she saw his arms stretched like shadows toward her.
"And you--"
Her voice was low, so low that he could hardly hear the words she spoke, but its sweetness thrilled him.
"And you--if you love me--will do this thing for me. Go to Neil. Save his life for me!"
She had come to him through the gloom, and in the luster of the eyes that were turned up to him Nathaniel saw again the power that swayed his soul.
"You will go?"
"I will save your brother--if I can!"
"You can--you can--" she breathed. In an ecstasy of gratitude she seized one of his hands in both her own. "You can save him!"
"For you--I will try."
"For me--"
She was so close that he could feel the throbbing of her bosom. Suddenly he lifted his free hand and brushed back the thick hair from her brow and turned her face until what dim light there still remained of the day glowed in the beauty of her eyes. "I will keep him from the island if I can," he said, looking deep into them, "and as there is a God in Heaven I swear that you--"
"What?" she urged, as he hesitated.
"That you shall not marry Strang!" he finished.
A cry welled up in the girl's throat. Was it of gladness? Was it of hope? She sprang back a pace from Nathaniel and with clenched hands waited breathlessly, as if she expected him to say more.
"No--no--you can not save me from Strang! Now--you must go!"
She retreated slowly in the direction of the path. In an instant Nathaniel was at her side.
"I am going to see you safely back in St. James," he declared. "Then I will go to your brother."
She barred his way defiantly.
"You can not go!"
"Why?"
"Because--" He caught the frightened flutter of her voice again. "Because--they will kill you!"
The low laugh that he breathed in her hair was more of joy than fear.
"I am glad you care--Marion." He spoke her name with faltering tenderness, and led her out into the path.
"You must go," she still persisted.
"With you--yes," he answered.
She surrendered to the determination in his voice and they moved slowly along the path, listening for any sound that might come from ahead of them. Nathaniel had already formed his plan of action. From Marion's words and the voice in which she had uttered them he knew that it would be useless for him as it had been for Neil to urge her to flee from the island. There remained but one thing for him to do, so he fell back upon the scheme which he had proposed to Marion's brother. He realized now that he might be compelled to play the game single-handed unless he could secure assistance from Obadiah. His ship and men were in the hands of the Mormons; Neil, in his search for the captured vessel, stood a large chance, of missing him that night, and in that event Marion's fate would depend on him alone. If he could locate a small boat on the beach back of Obadiah's; if he could in some way lure Marion to it--He gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of using force upon the girl at his side, at the thought of her terror of those first few moments, her struggles, her broken confidence. She believed in him now. She believed that he loved her. She trusted him. The warm soft pressure of her hand as it clung to his arm in the blackening gloom of the forest was evidence of that trust. She looked into his face anxiously, inquiringly when they stopped to listen, like a child who was sure of a stronger spirit at her side. She held her breath when he held his, she listened when he listened, her feet fell with velvet stillness when he stepped with caution. Her confidence in him was like a beautiful dream to Nathaniel and he trembled when he pictured the destruction of it. After a little he reached over and as if by accident touched the hand that was lying on his arm; he dared more after a moment, and drew the warm little fingers into his great strong palm and held them there, his soul thrilled by their gentle submissiveness. And then in another breath there came to still his joy a thought of the terrible power that chained this girl to the Mormon king. He longed to speak words of encouragement to her, to instil hope in her bosom, to ask her to confide in him the secret of the shadow which hung over her, but the memory of what Neil had said to him held his lips closed.
They had walked in silence for many minutes when the girl stopped.
"It is not very far now," she whispered. "You must go!"
"Only a little farther," he begged.
She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on, more slowly than before, until they came to where the path met the footway that led to Obadiah's.
"Now--now you _must_ go," whispered Marion again.
In this last moment Nathaniel crushed her hand against his breast, his body throbbing with a wild tumult, and a half of what he had meant not to say fell passionately from his lips.
"Forgive me for--that--back there--Marion," he whispered. "It was because I love you--love you--" He freed her hand and stood back, choking the words that would have revealed his secret. He lied now for the love of this girl. "Neil is out there waiting for me in a small boat," he continued, pointing beyond Obadiah's to the lake. "I will see him soon, and then I will return to Obadiah's to tell you if he has left for the mainland. Will you promise to meet me there--to-night?"
"I will promise."
"At midnight--"
"Yes, at twelve o'clock."
This time it was Marion who came to him. Her eyes shone like stars.
"And if you make Neil go to the mainland," she said softly, "when I meet you I will--will tell you--something."
The last word came in a breathless sob. As she slipped into the path that led to St. James she paused for a moment and called back, in a low voice, "Tell Neil that he must go for Winnsome's sake. Tell him that her fate is shortly to be as cruel as mine--tell him that Winnsome loves him, and that she will escape and come to him on the mainland. Tell him to go--go!"
She turned again, and Nathaniel stood like a statue, hardly breathing, until the sound of her feet had died away. Then he walked swiftly up the foot-path that led to Obadiah's. He forgot his own danger in the excitement that pulsated with every fiber of his being, forgot his old caution and the fears that gave birth to it--forgot everything in those moments but Marion and his own great happiness. Neil's absence meant nothing to him now. He had held Marion in his arms, he had told her of his love, and though she had accepted it with gentle unresponsiveness he was thrilled by the memory of that last look in her eyes, which had spoken faith, confidence, and perhaps even more. What was that _something_ she would tell him if he got Neil safely away? It was to be a reward for his own loyalty--he knew that, by the half fearing tremble of her voice, the sobbing catch of her breath, the strange glow in her eyes. With her brother away would she confide in him? Would she tell him the secret of her slavedom to Strang? Nathaniel was conscious of no madness in the wild hope that filled him; nothing seemed impossible to him now. Marion would meet him at midnight. She would go with him to the boat, and then--ah, he had solved the problem! He would use no force. He would tell her that Neil was in his canoe half a mile out from the shore and that he had promised to leave the island for good if she would go out to bid him good-by. And once there, a half a mile or a mile away, he would tell her that he had lied to her; and he would give her his heart to trample upon to prove the love that had made him do this thing, and then he would row her to the mainland.
It was the sight of Obadiah's cabin that brought his caution back. He came upon it so suddenly that an exclamation of surprise fell unguarded from his lips. There was no light to betray life within. He tried the door and found it locked. He peered in at the windows, listened, and knocked, and at last concealed himself near the