Part 11

“Horrible!” said Abeuchapeta. “And the crew, what did they say?”

“They was a crew of a few words,” sighed Hawkins. “Werry few words, an’ not a civil word in the lot—mostly adjectives of a profane kind. When I told ’em what had happened, they got mad at Fortune for a-jiltin’ of ’em, an’—well, I came here. I was ’sas’inated that werry night!”

“They killed you?” cried Morgan.

“A dozen times,” nodded Hawkins. “They always was a lavish lot. I met death in all its most horrid forms. First they stabbed me, then they shot me, then they clubbed me, and so on, endin’ up with a lynchin’—but I didn’t mind much after the first, which hurt a bit. But now that I’m here I’m glad it happened. This life is sort of less responsible than that other. You can’t hurt a ghost by shooting him, because there ain’t nothing to hurt, an’ I must say I like bein’ a mere vision what everybody can see through.”

“All of which interesting tale proves what?” queried Abeuchapeta.

“That piracy on the sea is not profitable in these days of the check banking system,” said Kidd. “If you can get a chance at real gold it’s all right, but it’s of no earthly use to steal checks that people can stop payment on. Therefore it was my plan to visit the cities and do a little freebooting there, where solid material wealth is to be found.”

“Well? Can’t we do it now?” asked Abeuchapeta.

“Not with these women tagging after us,” returned Kidd. “If we went to London and lifted the whole Bank of England, these women would have it spent on Regent Street inside of twenty-four hours.”

“Then leave them on board,” said Abeuchapeta.

“And have them steal the ship!” retorted Kidd. “No. There are but two things to do. Take ’em back, or land them in Paris. Tell them to spend a week on shore while we are provisioning. Tell ’em to shop to their hearts’ content, and while they are doing it we can sneak off and leave them stranded.”

“Splendid!” cried Morgan.

“But will they consent?” asked Abeuchapeta.

“Consent! To shop? In Paris? For a week?” cried Morgan.

“Ha, ha!” laughed Hawkins. “Will they consent! Will a duck swim?”

And so it was decided, which was the first incident in the career of the House-boat upon which the astute Mr. Sherlock Holmes had failed to count.

VI A CONFERENCE BELOW-STAIRS

WHEN, with a resounding slam, the door to the upper deck of the House-boat was shut in the faces of queens Elizabeth and Cleopatra by the unmannerly Kidd, these ladies turned and gazed at those who thronged the stairs behind them in blank amazement, and the heart of Xanthippe, had one chosen to gaze through that diaphanous person’s ribs, could have been seen to beat angrily.

Queen Elizabeth was so excited at this wholly novel attitude towards her regal self that, having turned, she sat down plump upon the floor in the most unroyal fashion.

“Well!” she ejaculated. “If this does not surpass everything! The idea of it! Oh for one hour of my olden power, one hour of the axe, one hour of the block!”

“Get up,” retorted Cleopatra, “and let us all return to the billiard-room and discuss this matter calmly. It is quite evident that something has happened of which we wotted little when we came aboard this craft.”

“That is a good idea,” said Calpurnia, retreating below. “I can see through the window that we are in motion. The vessel has left her moorings, and is making considerable headway down the stream, and the distinctly masculine voices we have heard are indications to my mind that the ship is manned, and that this is the result of design rather than of accident. Let us below.”

Elizabeth rose up and readjusted her ruff, which in the excitement of the moment had been forced to assume a position about her forehead which gave one the impression that its royal wearer had suddenly donned a sombrero.

“Very well,” she said. “Let us below; but oh, for the axe!”

“Bring the lady an axe,” cried Xanthippe, sarcastically. “She wants to cut somebody.”

The sally was not greeted with applause. The situation was regarded as being too serious to admit of humor, and in silence they filed back into the billiard-room, and, arranging themselves in groups, stood about anxiously discussing the situation.

“It’s getting rougher every minute,” sobbed Ophelia. “Look at those pool-balls!” These were in very truth chasing each other about the table in an extraordinary fashion. “And I wish I’d never followed you horrid new creatures on board!” the poor girl added, in an agony of despair.

“I believe we’ve crossed the bar already!” said Cleopatra, gazing out of the window at a nasty choppy sea that was adding somewhat to the disquietude of the fair gathering. “If this is merely a joke on the part of the Associated Shades, it is a mighty poor one, and I think it is time it should cease.”

“Oh, for an axe!” moaned Elizabeth, again.