CHAPTER XXXI.
THE INDIGNATION OF CAPTAIN SHORTT.
TWO days later the little Baltrum, coming along up the Bahama passage, raised Cabo Batabano, the old Bowline Head of the pirates, while in the heat haze the shores of Cuba showed like land dissolving into sea, like sea rising into the form of land. In the summer on this coast the most astonishing effects of mirage are seen, sometimes above the land, sometimes above the sea line. It is said that Rodriguez saw Dundonald's ships in the sky, pursuing him and so escaped, making round the eastern coast to the Isla de Pinos; while, sometimes, Tampico, as if tired of its position on the mainland, rises like the flying island of Swift and floats above the Cuban shore, a phantom town in the flower-blue sky. But this morning there was nothing but coast.
James had left them a book of sailing directions, though the way in was easy enough, for the channel leading into Havana harbor has neither bar nor obstruction, is three hundred and fifty yards wide and runs from eight to ten fathoms deep on its natural bed.
At nine o'clock, or a little after, Sheila through the haze ahead saw the fortifications of the harbor mouth, beyond which lay the blue hills that seemed to float in air.
The breeze held steady and warm, a continuous breathing from the east of north, and the Baltrum could have steered herself as they came through the passage, the vast harbor unfolding before them and the city disclosing itself as though at the opening of a magician's hand.
Yes, there lay Havana, one of the legend cities that so few Europeans have ever seen or ever will see.
Havana of the pirate days and the plate ships, of Hawke and Morgan, Dundonald and Albemarle. Havana with its spires and streets, its alamadas, its wharfs, where the deep-sea ships can come right alongside, and over all the flicker of bunting and over all the lights of Cuba, luminous, consuming and, at midday, tremendous.
“There's the Dulcinea,” cried Dicky suddenly.
“So she is,” said Sheila, who was at the wheel. “Captain Shortt told me before we left Turtle Island he'd anchor not far from the opening and we could take our position two cable lengths south of his moorings and we'd be safe. Stand by, Larry.”
“Keep her as she's goin',” said Larry, who was in the bow. “Mr. Sebright, will you give me a hand wid the cable. Stidy—stidy, Miss Shaila. Port a stroke—as you are now.”
He stood in the bow as the Baltrum, the wind spilling from her sails, came crawling toward the Dulcinea, passed her and dropped the anchor in fifteen-fathom water, two cable lengths to southward of her moorings, and two cable lengths north of the Alacante gas buoy.
Sheila, leaving the wheel, came to the port rail and looked at the Dulcinea. A fellow in a bos'n's chair was doing some paint work over the stern, washing was fluttering on a line and by the rail an old quartermaster was leaning and chewing something, possibly tobacco.
Sheila could see his jaws working; there was no one else on deck and as she took in the whole ship and situation, she said to herself: “James is not on board.”
The unerring instinct of the sailor told her that the Dulcinea was without her boss. “The owner has gone away and left me,” was written in the attitude of the man at the rail, the deserted decks and the general slackness; she was a yacht out of commission for the moment, and looked it through every inch of her.
“Maybe Mr. Corder is ashore,” thought Sheila as she stood by her companion while the Baltrum swung to her moorings.
“Don't see James,” said Dicky.
“Nor I,” said the girl. “Maybe he's ashore. Ah, there's Captain Shortt.”
Word had evidently gone below that the Baltrum was in, for the Dulcinea's skipper came straight to the port rail, waved his hand and then signaled them to come on board.
Larry rowed them over and Shortt, having received them as they came up the side, invited them down below.
“Mr. Corder is not here,” said he when they were in the cabin. “He's left for N'York.”
“Left for New York!” said Sheila in astonishment.
“Left for N'York,” said Shortt, going to a desk and taking a letter from it. “He asked me to give you this and told me to put the yacht at your disposal.”
Dicky opened the envelope and took out
