Part 27

When Captain Mayo was half-way down the harbor, on his way back to the yacht, he was confronted by a spectacle which startled him. The fog was suddenly painted with a ruddy flare which spread high and flamed steadily. His first fears suggested that a vessel was on fire. The Olenia lay in that direction. He commanded his men to pull hard.

When he burst out of the mists into the zone of the illumination his misgivings were allayed, but his curiosity was roused.

A dozen yacht tenders flocked in a flotilla near the stern of a rusty old schooner. All the tenders were burning Coston lights, and from several boats yachtsmen were sending off rockets which striped the pall of fog with bizarre colorings.

The stern of the schooner was well lighted up by the torches, and Mayo saw her name, though he did not need that name to assure him of her identity; she was the venerable Polly.

The light which flamed about her, showing up her rig and lines, was weirdly unreal and more than ever did she seem like a ghost ship. The thick curtain of the mist caught up the flare of the torches and reflected it upon her from the skies, and she was limned in fantastic fashion from truck to water-line. Shadows of men in the tenders were thrown against the fog-screen in grotesque outline, and a spirit crew appeared to be toiling in the top-hamper of the old schooner.

Captain Mayo ordered his men to hold water and the tender drifted close to the flotilla. He spied a yacht skipper whom he had known when both were in the coasting trade.

“What's the idea, Duncan?”

His acquaintance grinned. “Serenade for old Epps Candage's girl--handed to her over his head.” He pointed upward.

Projecting over the schooner's rail was the convulsed countenance of Captain Candage. Choler seemed to be consuming him. The freakish light painted everything with patterns in arabesque; the captain's face looked like the countenance of a gargoyle.

Mayo, observing with the natural prejudice of a “native,” detected mockery in the affair. He had just been present at one exhibition of the convivial humor of larking yachtsmen.

“What's the special excuse for it?” he asked, sourly.

“According to the story, Epps has brought her with him on this trip to break up a courting match.”

“Well, does that have anything to do with this performance?”

“Oh, it's only a little spree,” confessed the other. “It was planned out on our yacht. Old Epps made himself a mucker to-day by sassing some of the gents of the fleet, and the boys are handing him a little something. That's all! It's only fun!”

“According to my notion it's the kind of fun that hurts when a girl is concerned, Duncan.”

“Just as serious as ever, eh? Well, my notion is that a little good-natured fun never hurts a pretty girl--and they say this one is some looker! Oh, hold on a minute, Boyd!” The master of the Olenia had turned away and was about to give an order to his oarsmen. “You ought to stop long enough to hear that new song one of the gents on the Sunbeam has composed for the occasion. It's a corker. I heard 'em rehearsing it on our yacht.”

In spite of his impatient resentment on behalf of the daughter of Epps Candage, Captain Mayo remained. Just then the accredited minstrel of the yachtsmen stood up, balancing himself in a tender. He was clearly revealed by the lights, and was magnified by the aureole of tinted fog which surrounded him. He sang, in waltz time, in a fine tenor:

“Our Polly O, O'er the sea you go; Fairer than sunbeam, lovely as moon-gleam, All of us love thee so! While the breezes blow To waft thee, Polly O, We will be true to thee, Crossing the blue to thee, Polly--Polly! Dear little Polly, Polly--O-O-O!”

He finished the verse and then raised both arms with the gesture of a choral conductor.

“All together, now, boys!”

They sang with soul and vigor and excellent effect.

Ferocity nearly inarticulate, fury almost apoplectic, were expressed by the face above the weather-worn rail.

“They say that music soothes the savage breast, but it don't look like it in this case,” observed Captain Duncan with a chuckle.

“Clear off away from here, you drunken dudes! I'll have the law on ye! I'll have ye arrested for--for breaking the peace.”

That threat, considering the surroundings, provoked great hilarity.

“Give way all! Here comes a cop!” warned a jeering voice.

“He's walking on the water,” explained another.

“The man must be a fool,” declared Captain Mayo. “If he'd go below and shut up, they'd get tired and leave in a few minutes.”