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The Expedition of Captain Flick: A Story of Adventure

Chapter XXIV. We Arrange our Plans

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Chapter XXIV. We Arrange our Plans.

“Danger above,
Danger below,
Jealousy-love-
Bring nothing but woe;
Yet should we gain all,
We may retain all,
And so disdain all
Danger above and below.”

We found Jenner in a state of justifiable alarm regarding the volcanic disturbance; and, indeed, both Harry and myself felt that the yacht was in a dangerous position. If the volcano became active -and it showed every sign of becoming so—the boat might be sunk by the stones hurled from the crater, buried in the rain of fine ashes, or swamped in the turbulence caused in the pool by the seismic disturbances. The crew were likewise alarmed, and looked constantly at the white peak crowned by the ominous masses of vapour, which were breathed from the entrails of the mountain. One and all anxiously page 271 awaited the return of Captain Flick, to hear what he had to say on the matter.

Our leader arrived shortly before sunset, and said that the earthquake had shaken the plain on which the king's palace was built, passing away in an easterly direction towards the black reefs. The king had exhibited but little alarm, saying that these shocks were of frequent occurrence, but that while Venus was pleased with the islanders, no harm could come to Isk. In our turn we narrated to Flick how the waters of the pool had turned white; whereat he looked rather grave.

“I don't like the look of things, lads,” he said gravely; “there seems to me a likelihood of a blowup of that mountain. If we lie in this pool while that takes place, things may go hard with us. So if—Well, Jenner, what is it?”

This last was to the mate who entered the cabin with a serious face.

“The men would like to speak to you, sir,” said he respectfully.

Flick wheeled round and glared at the officer, his face purple with wrath. However, he had the sense to control his anger at what he conceived the crew's audacity, and answered in a jesting manner.

“I 'spose they are afraid of the volcano, Jenner? page 272 Well, well! tell them to come aft. I'll be on deck in two minutes.”

Jenner disappeared, and the captain looked at us in rather an anxious manner.

“We are likely to have trouble here, Harry. That volcano has frightened the men.”

“I don't wonder at it, captain,” said I quickly. “There is no doubt that our position is unsafe. You said as much just now yourself.”

“Yes, to you two,” replied Flick grimly; “but I don't intend to confess as much to the crew. They might mutiny unless I took the boat outside.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“Why,” said the captain, with a frown, “I'll stay here for another week, and if by that time I don't get Miss Bertha and the statue on board, I'll take the boat out through the chasm.”

“But you won't desert Bertha?”

“No, lad—nor will I give up the statue; but I fancy we'll have to ship both on the eastern coast of the island; and a nasty place it is. I wish I had a map of the shore-line.”

“I have one,” said I, producing the linen roll from my pocket. “Harry got it from Basilea.”

“Good!” cried Flick, eagerly unrolling the linen, and running his eye over the map. “This is just what I want. We must talk this over, lad. In the meantime, I shall see the men.”

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We all three went on deck, and found that a rather anxious-looking crew had assembled to lay their grievances before the captain. Flick looked at them calmly for a moment or so, and then spoke out, sharp and abrupt.

“Well, men,” said he concisely, “what is the trouble?”

The boatswain advanced on this invitation, scraped his foot, touched his forelock, and cast a look aloft at the mountain peak.

“It's jest this way, sir,” said he reflectively. “That there volcaner's looking nasty, an' if it goes on as it did to-day, there won't be much chanst of us getting 'ome agin. We arsk, sir, as you'll sail this here boat out into the bay, so as we kin steam off if there's trouble.”

“What you say is perfectly reasonable,” said Flick mildly. “Should the mountain become active, our position is not safe. But you must remember, men, that we came here to rescue Miss Greenvile, and she is still a prisoner. I ask you to agree to stay in this pool for seven days, and during that time I don't think there will be much chance of an eruption. In a few days I hope to have Miss Greenvile on board the yacht; then, men, I will take her outside as you desire.”

“Seven days!” said the boatswain, again glancing page 274 at the volcano. “An' you don't think, sir, as that there mountain 'ull give trouble?”

“No; honestly speaking, I don't think so,” said Flick, following the gaze of the men. “The king told me that these earthquakes are frequent, but that no worse happens. The volcano has been in the state you see it for over a thousand years. So far as I can guess, it is likely to remain as it is for the next thousand.”

The boatswain turned to look at his mates, and consulted with two of them in a low voice. This over, he again turned to the skipper and promised.

“We're willin', for seven days, sir,” said he.

‘Very good,” said Flick, with a nod. “I am glad to find that you are reasonable.”

He then dismissed the men, who retired amiably enough, and we returned to the saloon, to look at the map of the island and consider our plans. Within seven days we had to rescue Bertha and to gain the statue. At present both tasks seemed impossible, and I was anything but hopeful when I sat down at the table. Flick, however, was jubilant; so I guessed that he had some plan in his head, and was confident of its success.

“Well, lads,” said Flick genially, “I must tell you why the king wished to see me. It seems that page 275 Basilea has quite settled to make Harry there her husband—”

“Hang her impudence!” cried Harry angrily.

“By all means; but let me go on with my yarn. The king has taken a fancy to the yacht, and to myself, so he proposes that I should stay here as-well, I suppose you'll call it-admiral. He offers me a house, an income of those blue stones, and lands. All we have to do is to conform to the religion of Venus, and take Hesperus trips round the island.”

“A very nice little scheme,” said I dryly. “And what about me?”

“Oh, you are to stand in with me, of course. I don't exactly know what employment you'll be given, but it will be something pleasant, I've no doubt. So here we are set up for life,” said Flick, with a grin. “Harry as the husband of Basilea, myself as admiral, and Sir Denis yonder will no doubt be appointed prime minister or general of the Isk army.”

“And what was your answer to this generous offer?” said Harry.

“Oh! I said I would take a week to consider it.”

“And in a week, Flick!”

“In a week, Sir Denis, we must save your future bride, and get the statue if we can. If I don't settle the business by that time, my name isn't Thomas Flick-that's all.”

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“What do you propose to do?”

Flick scribbled absently on the map with his pencil, and seemed to be considering his plans with regard to the rescue. Harry and I waited anxiously for his speech. It did not come for some time, but when it did, the irrelevance of it to the matter in hand puzzled us not a little.

“That Myrtea you spoke of,” he said, addressing himself to Harry, “she's a nice girl.”

“She's the prettiest girl I ever saw in my life,” replied Harry promptly; “but what has she got to do with this conversation?”

“Just this, my lad. Through Myrtea you must rouse the jealousy of the old lady.”

“For what reason?”

“Well,” said Flick, with a drawl, “Basilea thinks that, backed by the king and the volcano, and all these superstitious dwarfs, she can do as she pleases. She has decided to marry you; and if she finds out that you are in love with Myrtea—”

“Which I am not,” interpolated Harry, flushing.

“Which you are not—for the sake of argument. When she finds that out, I say, there will be trouble.”

“I thought you didn't want trouble, Flick?”

“I want trouble of my own making, Sir Denis. If Basilea flares up at Harry, he can come aboard the page 277 yacht and lie low. Then Basilea will come round. She won't see Harry-she'll see me.”

“And what will you do?”

“I'll stand her friend, and promise to deliver Harry into her clutches, on condition that she lets Bertha come on board and hands over that statue.”

“She might do the first,” said I grimly, “as a jealous woman will do anything to gain her ends; but the last—my dear Flick, the statue is her religion!”

“Bah! she's got no religion, save what suits her purpose. Do you think she believes in that rubbish she talks of Venus controlling the mountain? It's all said to frighten the people. If Harry can make her jealous, I'll engage to do the rest. No doubt it will take some talking to get her to fix up the statue business, but at all events I'd like to try.”

“It's not a bad idea,” said Harry reflectively. “And when we have Bertha and the statue on board?”

“Why, we'll track for home!”

“But the chasm—the iron gates?”

“I'll blow them up. This week I'm going to fix up a charge of dynamite under them. Don't you fear, Harry. The gates will be no hindrance.”

“There's another thing,” said I, after a pause; “if Basilea becomes jealous of Myrtea, she may make away with the poor girl.”

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“No,” said Flick, sharply; “I'll give her to understand that such a thing is to be the third article in the agreement: Miss Bertha, the statue, and no harm to Myrtea.”

“Well,” said Harry, jumping up and looking very tall and straight, “it's a good plan, and may bring matters to a head; but as to mixing Myrtea up with it, I shall do no such thing.”

“Why not, Harry?”

“Because I am a gentleman and a man of honour. I like Myrtea, and—and I shan't do it: that's why.”

Captain Flick looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes. He agreed with Harry, I saw that plainly; but he wished to accomplish the object of his expedition, and he was prepared to make use of whatever means there was at hand. After all, Aunt Chrissy had not been far wrong when she had warned us against Captain Flick. The man was a born adventurer, and cared for neither danger nor honour, so that he secured the prize upon which he was bent. I, more scrupulous, sided silently with Harry, but I said nothing, neither did he; and Flick, after a surly glance at us both, smiled and turned the subject in a diplomatic manner.

“Well, if you won't do it, you won't,” said he mildly; “I must think of some other plan, that's all. In the meantime, let us look at this map.”

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Rather astonished by the calm way in which he had taken Harry's refusal, I bent over the map of the island of Isk. It was an almost round blotch of land, with a great piece bitten out of it in the part where the semicircular bay ran up to the chasm. The peak itself was the only decently sized mountain on the isle; and from the ridge which dominated the town, wide plains stretched to the other side of the land. A low range of hills divided this plain in the centre, but there was a huge gap in the middle of the range.

“That gap,” said Harry, laying his finger on it, “was made during an earthquake, so that the waters poured through it into the ocean beyond.”

“Waters!” echoed Flick. “What are you talking about?”

“Why, Basilea told me. In the old days all that plain on which the king's palace stands was a lake, dammed by this range of hills. Beyond, the other plains were lower, and stretched to the coast and the black reefs. As I say, the earthquake many years ago—some thousand, in fact—split the hills in twain, and the waters of the lake ebbed away, leaving it as you see it now.”

“Mud and sand mixed,” muttered Flick. “So that is why the plain is so fertile. Well, where water has been, water will be, and I shouldn't be surprised if the ocean poured in through that gap again.”

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“It's not unlikely,” said I. “The whole island seems to me to be a thin crust over a well of seething fire. I only hope it won't gape, and let us down to roast with the rest of the population.”

“See these roads,” said Flick, pointing to red lines on the map; “they run all over the island to the distant villages. This royal thoroughfare, which begins at the pool and tops the ridge, runs straight across the island to the eastern coast. Failing the chasm, that is the road we must take the statue and Miss Bertha.”

“And what of the yacht?” asked Harry dryly.

“Oh, we'll sail her through the chasm at the end of seven days, and she will lie off the eastern coast till we want her.”

“It's a difficult task.”

“Very,” said Flick, coolly looking at him; “but you can make it easier by falling in with my plans. Then we can get the business done here, instead of lying off the eastern coast and negotiating a road which is sure to be dangerous.”

“I can't do it, Flick; as a man of honour, I can't,” said Harry abruptly, and left the cabin.

Flick looked after him and whistled.

“Sir Denis,” he said shortly, “I'll bet you that Harry loves Myrtea, and, against his wish, he will make Basilea jealous.”

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