The Flying Girl and Her Chum/Chapter 22
CHAPTER XXII
RAMON GANZA
When Madeline came on deck, soon after daybreak, Captain Krell reported the successful departure of the launch.
"Are you sure they were not seen?" she asked.
"Quite sure, Miss Dentry, for we heard not a sound, either from our party or from the besiegers, although we listened intently."
Long before Steve could have prepared the aëroplane for the journey those on board the yacht were gazing expectantly at the bluff. The tent had disappeared, which was proof that the undertaking had so far been successful.
At this time there seemed to be a little stir among the Mexicans and Mr. Cumberford suggested, rather nervously, that they also had noticed the absence of the tent, without understanding what could have become of it.
At half-past eight they heard the sound of the engines of Ramon's big launch, and that made them worry more than ever until Sybil suddenly cried: "There they are!"
Upon the distant bluff appeared the Aircraft. A little cheer, which none could restrain, went up from the deck of the yacht. There was no delay. Scarcely was the machine in position when it mounted into the air and headed directly toward the east. Every eye watched it eagerly until it had become a dim speck against the blue sky and finally disappeared from view altogether, flying steadily and with a speed that raised their hopes to the highest pitch. Then, with one accord, they returned to the cabin to discuss the chances of Radley-Todd's getting back to them safely with the launch.
"I don't worry much about that young man," said Cumberford. "He's as full of resources as a pincushion is of sawdust, and I'll bet my hat we shall soon see him again, safe and sound."
The captain now entered with an anxious face.
"That confounded Mexican king is signaling us with a flag of truce," he reported.
"What, Ramon?" exclaimed Madeline.
"Yes. What shall we do?"
"Stay here, Miss Dentry," said Cumberford, rising. "I'll go and see what the fellow wants."
"I will go with you," returned Madeline, quietly. "I wish you would not."
"Why?" she asked. "If he bears a flag of truce there is no danger."
"I do not believe he would respect a flag of truce—nor anything else," asserted Mr. Cumberford. "Do you, Captain?"
"No, sir. He's tricky and unreliable. Don't trust him for a moment."
But Madeline would not be denied. She accompanied the captain and Mr. Cumberford to the deck.
Just beside the yacht floated the little rowboat which had been brought from Ramon's island, and in it sat Ramon himself, all alone, holding aloft a handkerchief attached as a flag to a boat-hook.
As they peered over the side at him he bowed profoundly and removed his hat to Miss Dentry. He was still clothed in his white flannels and his fingers glittered with jewels.
"What do you want?" demanded Mr. Cumberford sharply.
"The pleasure of conversing with you, señor," was the confident reply. "If you will kindly let down your ladder I will come on board. You see, myself I place in your power. We have, I much regret, some slight misunderstanding between us, which a few words will assuredly correct."
"Don't let him up, sir," advised Captain Krell, in a low voice.
"But he is unarmed," said Madeline. "I think it will be best to confer with him."
"Then do it from a distance," grumbled the captain.
"Sir," called Mr. Cumberford, "if you have any apologies to make, you may speak from where you are."
"Then, alas, my overtures of peace are refused?" said Ramon, not defiantly, but in a tone of deep regret.
"No; we don't refuse any sincere overtures of peace; but you have treated us in a scoundrelly manner, and we don't trust you."
"Such a terrible mistake, señor; so sad! But I cannot explain it from here. With utmost trust in your honor I offer to come to you alone, and—see!—unarmed. Will not you, for the sake of the ladies who are with you, encourage my friendliness?"
"Let him come up," said Madeline again. There seemed a veiled threat in Ramon's appeal.
"Very well. But tell your men to watch his every movement, Captain, and if he makes a treacherous move shoot him down without hesitation."
The rope ladder was cast over the side and Ramon promptly seized it and climbed to the deck.
"Follow us below," commanded Mr. Cumberford, turning toward the cabin. The man hesitated, casting a shrewd, quick glance around. Then he bowed again and said:
"I thank the señor for his courtesy."
In the cabin were assembled Mr. and Mrs. Tupper and Sybil Cumberford. Chica and Pietro discreetly kept out of view. Mr. Cumberford entered first, followed by Madeline. Then came Ramon Ganza and behind him the captain and little O'Reilly, the Irish engineer. This last personage was virtually "armed to the teeth," for he carried one of Ramon's own rifles and a brace of revolvers.
"Be seated," said Mr. Cumberford, pointing to a chair. "And now, sir, state your errand."
Ganza's comprehensive glance had taken in every member of the party, as well as the luxurious furnishings of the Salvador's cabin, which seemed to please his aesthetic taste.
"I ask to be inform, being in ignorance, if three people may ride in one flying-machine," he blandly announced, looking from one face to another as if uncertain whom to address.
"Three?" asked Cumberford, as if puzzled.
"Yes. I see that one young lady and two men are missing from your party."
"I suppose three can ride, if need be," muttered Cumberford. "Is your mission here to gain information concerning aëroplanes?"
"Only in part, señor."
The Mexican's features had hitherto been composed and smiling, despite the stern and mistrustful looks he encountered on all sides. But now, perhaps understanding that these Americans were not easily to be cajoled, his own face grew somber and lowering and he said in a sharp, incisive manner: "You prefer to discuss business only?"
"We do, sir," was the reply, Mr. Cumberford continuing to act as spokesman.
"Very nice. I have a wish to invite you all to my island, where you shall be my respected guests. My mansion shall be at your service; my servants shall obey your commands; you shall delight in the grand scenery and enjoy yourselves as you will."
"Thank you; we decline your hospitality."
"But I fear in that you make bad mistake, señor," continued Ramon Ganza, unabashed by the rebuff. "My island is a pleasant place, and where else can you find so much happiness when my ship, which you now inhabit, is destroyed?"
"Oh; that's the idea, is it?" exclaimed Mr. Cumberford. "You interest me, sir; you do, really. Perhaps you will state how you intend to destroy our ship, which is not, permit me to say, your ship as yet."
"Is it necessary to say more?" asked the Mexican, spreading out his jewelled hands with a deprecating gesture.
"I think it will enable us to understand you better."
As if in deep thought, Ganza drummed upon the cabin table with his fingers.
"I am very sad at your refusal to be my guests," he said after a time. "This, my ship, is in a most dangerous position. It is half out of water, on an island that is a bleak rock. I come here from the island where I reside to befriend you—to offer you my humble hospitality—when I have taken possession of the wreck—and in your blindness—do you call it fatuity?—you receive me as an enemy. Some of your people chase my boat, as if I have no right to sail the seas of my own islands! Yet I am not resentful; not at all. I enjoy some humor and I am good man, with much respectability. When your ship catches on fire, as it will probably do very soon, you must escape to these bare rocks, where you can find no assistance, no food to keep you alive. Then perhaps you will feel more kindly toward poor Don Miguel del Borgitis—your humble servant—and find willingness to accept his beautiful home as your own. But why wait for fire to drive you to death most terrible or to my great hospitality? Is it not the best to accept my offer, and so save yourselves from—inconvenience?"
Beneath the smooth words the ugly threat was so visible that even brave Madeline paled, and Mr. Tupper shuddered vigorously. But Mr. Cumberford, gazing critically into the man's face, replied:
"I see. Interesting; very. You want to save this yacht. You would like to drag it afloat and carry it away to your own island, where we, accepting your hospitality, would become your prisoners. But if we refuse to surrender the ship, you say you will set fire to it, in which case you would burn us up or force us to land. If we land, you will capture us and force us to become your unwilling subjects. Is that a clear understanding of your statement, Ramon Ganza?"
The outlaw gave a start as he heard his true name mentioned, but quickly recovered his assurance.
"The señor is very intelligent," he said.
"At any rate, the señor is not demented," retorted Cumberford, grimly. "Why did you venture to place yourself in our power, Ramon Ganza, and then threaten us as you have done?"
"I came under flag of truce."
"And you think, on that account, we will let you go again, to carry out your cowardly designs?"
"I am certain of that. Before I came I took care to protect myself."
"In what way?"
He looked at his watch, a huge jewelled affair.
"Underneath your ship," said he quietly, "is anchored a mine of very much power. It lies under that part which is in the water—I think just below the place where we now sit. If I do not depart from here in safety within fifty minutes from now, my men will kindly explode this mine and blow us all to—well, where we go. The poor ship, alas, will be destroyed with us."
"Would your men execute such an absurd order?" asked Cumberford sneeringly.
"With much satisfaction. You see, it would make them free. They do not love me very much. If I die, they will have my beloved island and all my possessions—so they think."
"And you would be willing to forfeit your life as the alternative of not getting control of this yacht? Do you expect us to believe that?"
The outlaw's glittering fingers drummed upon the table again.
"The señor is not so wholly intelligent as I believed," said he. "I do not contradict his statement that he is not—eh—what you call it?—demented, or a fool; but the statement seems open to suspicion."
"Ah; that interests me."
"It ought to. You seem to know my name, señor; therefore you doubtless know my history. Pietro will have told you, or Chica, for both are now with you. My safety has depended on my keeping hidden upon my island. I must not let any who has seen me there, and recognized Ramon Ganza, depart to carry the tale to the mainland. In Mexico a price is set upon my head and they have condemned me to years in prison. But—there! I assure you all that I am good man, and honest; but my enemies have conspired to destroy me.
"As Don Miguel del Borgitis I have lived very respectable until, unfortunately for us all, you came here. I knew two girls had been wreck on this island in a flying-machine—a very strange and exciting invention, is it not?—but I did not disturb them nor allow them to become aware of my existence. Why? All I wish is safety. When some of you people, after this yacht is driven ashore in storm, intrude on me by coming to my hiding-place, I was obliged to protect myself. I started to come here to get every one on board and invite them to my island—where I meant to keep you all indefinitely, for I did not dare allow you to return to America and say where you had found Ramon Ganza. This yacht I could use to advantage, I admit; but I would be better pleased had I never seen it—nor you.
"Almost at once you are my enemies, and defy my laws. That did not change my plans except to make them harder. In this unknown island I am really king. I must conquer you, which I thought with good reason I could easily accomplish in time. So I make siege to your boat, laughing to think you cannot escape me. But one man cannot comprehend all things, señor, and I failed to consider that devilish contrivance, your flying-machine. I thought it was wreck, and no good any more. Some time last night three of your party get away and go to flying-machine, and this morning some of them—one, two, three; it does not matter—have fly away in it. Of course they will go to the mainland. That means they send assistance to you. They float your ship, take you back to America and you all have knowledge where Ramon Ganza may be found by those that seek his capture. Now you understand me, do you not? You have make it very unpleasant for me. If I escape from my island in little boat, where can I got? If I stay I will be arrest and carried to Mexico to be put in prison. Very well; I must escape. But not in my launch, which is old and not very good. I must have this yacht, which will carry me to any far part of the world, where Mexico is not known. Perhaps in it I could be privateer, if that seemed best way to protect my liberty—which is dearer to me than life. With this yacht I could defy all enemies; without it—I face death, or at least ruin. You have driven me to this desperation, so I come to make you my proposition. Now that I have explained all with much frankness, you will understand I mean what I say, for I am talking for my liberty—the liberty of a man who would soon die in confinement, for I am used to the open and could not exist as a convicted felon, in chains and abused by dogs of jailers. For your party I have no especial enmity; neither do I care for you the snap of my fingers. But believe this: Either I will save myself in this yacht, as I have proposed, or I will die in your company."