The British Mysteries Edition: 14 Novels & 70+ Short Stories. Sapper
do,' I answered. 'Rather mysterious about it too. Nobody knew where she was bound for.'
"'Not only that,' he reminded me, 'but she sailed under a new captain and a specially picked crew.'
"I stared at him hard. He was right—she had, but I'd forgotten it.
"'In your year out here, Mr. Blackett, have you never heard any stories of Lone Tree Island,' he went on.
"Well, I hadn't—not at that time, and I told him so. I hadn't even heard of the island before.
"'Not surprising,' he said, 'it lies well off the beaten track.'
"'What are we going to do there?' I asked him.
"'Find out what's happened to the Paquinetta,' he said gravely, and went below.
"Well, Mr. Maitland, you know I'm not a nervy sort of cuss, but I give you my word that that simple remark sent a shiver right down my spine. Don't forget that in those days wireless wasn't fitted to most of the smaller tramps, and the Paquinetta had none. At the same time there had been no dirty weather and she was a first-class sea boat. So I told myself not to be a fool—what could have happened to her? But there was the old man with a face a yard long: there was the crew, who somehow or other had got hold of our destination, as nervous as a basketful of monkeys, and there was this mystery about the Paquinetta.
"Well, we sighted the island about noon on the third day out. We were steering north-east, and that high ground with the cairn of stones on top, that you can see marked on the map, hid the anchorage until we were close in shore. Then as we rounded the point we suddenly saw her right in front of us, anchored not three cables' length away. So we went hard astern and anchored ourselves."
He paused and took another drink.
"It was obvious," he continued, "at the first glance that something was very wrong. There was no sign of smoke, no sign of life on board her, and when we gave a blast on the siren there was no answer.
"'Lower away a boat,' ordered the skipper. 'I'm going on board.'
"'I'd like to come too, sir,' I said, and the old man looked relieved.
"'I reckon I'll be glad to have you,' he answered. 'There is some devilry afoot.'
"So we rowed over. The companion was down though two of the guys had come adrift, and it wobbled drunkenly as we climbed up. The deck was deserted, and the heat beat up from it as we stood there looking round. Not a sign of a soul: not a sound.
"'We'll go below, Mr. Mate,' said the old man and led the way.
"She was practically the twin of our own packet so we knew our way about. We made for the saloon. It was empty, same as everything else, and on the table were the remains of a meal. Half a cup of tea congealed and rancid, and some meat that was crawling, it was so bad.
"'They've been gone some time, sir,' I said, pointing to it.
"'But what manner of man is it, Mr. Mate, who leaves his ship without a soul on board. Tell me that.'
"And I couldn't. The old story of the Marie Celeste came to my mind, but she at any rate was found drifting at sea. This was different: the whole lot of them must be ashore. But as the skipper said it pointed to a strange man in their captain.
"'We'll try the chart-room,' said the old man, and even as he spoke there came a sudden chuckle from outside the door. And you can take it from me that we were round in a flash, each of us with a gun in our hands. It was repeated, and there was something in the sound of it that fairly froze my blood. We watched the door opening slowly, and then our revolvers fell to our sides. One of the cook's mates was standing there and it needed but one glance to see that the poor chap was as mad as a hatter.
"He looked at us foolishly, and after a while he began to mumble something.
"'Half men: half beasts. Half men: half beasts.'
"On and on he went saying it, again and again and pointing with a shaking hand through the porthole. We couldn't get anything else out of him, and at length he shambled away again.
"'What the devil does he mean, sir?' I cried. 'Half men: half beasts. Of course, he's plumb crazy.'
"'And what made him crazy, Mr. Mate: what made him crazy?'
"The captain looked at me with sombre eyes.
"'Crazy men aren't signed on, are they, Mr. Mate? And sane men don't go crazy for nothing.'
"He led the way on deck, and for a while he stood there shading his eyes with his hand and staring at the undergrowth that came down almost to the water's edge. Then he turned abruptly and went up on the bridge.
"'Get the log,' he said. 'It may tell us something.'
"So I went to the captain's cabin, and wished I hadn't. For the sight inside was terrible to see. The bunk, the walls, the table, the chairs, the floor—every part of that cabin had great patches of red spattered over it, as if someone with a vast brush had daubed it indiscriminately on anything he saw. And it was blood.
"I turned: the captain was standing beside me and his face was the colour of chalk.
"'God in Heaven!' he muttered, 'there's been butcher's work in here.'
"I went over to the table, on which some papers were lying and picked them up. They, too, were stained with blood, but the writing was still legible. And at last we realised we had some sort of clue, though not one that advanced us much. For the top was evidently part of a rough form of diary kept by the skipper, and the captain pointed to the date—April 26th.
"'18th May now, Blackett,' he said. 'Three weeks ago.'
"'Cannot understand silence of shore party,' ran the entry. 'Three days overdue and no sig——'
"It broke off abruptly in the middle of a word. Signal, perhaps or sign—it didn't matter. But the same thought was in both our minds: what grim tragedy had occurred as he laid down his pencil three weeks before? Whose was the blood that covered everything? The faint sickly reek of it still hung about, and we stumbled back into the fresh air—two badly shaken men.
"'What's it mean, sir?' I cried. 'You knew something before we got here: the crew knew something. What is it?'
"'Rumours,' he said slowly. 'There have always been strange rumours about this island, Mr. Mate. And, by heck! I'm beginning to believe that they're true.'
"He gripped my arm suddenly, and with his other hand he pointed to the shore.
"'Do you see anything moving?' he cried. 'By that tree with the purple flowers, half-way up the hill.'
"I picked out the tree, and stared at it. And after a while it shook, though everything around it was motionless in the stilling mid-day heat. I went on staring: was it my imagination or was there something at the foot of the tree that was moving? We had neither of us brought our glasses, and in the shimmering haze it was difficult to be certain. So at length we gave it up and continued our exploration though we knew from the outset it was hopeless. The ship was empty save for us two and a crazy cook. Where were the rest of the crew?"
He paused, and Jim refilled his glass. And in the silence of the room you could have heard a pin drop.
"The first thing to fix was what to do with the madman, and the skipper decided to leave him where he was for the time.
"'As I see things,' he said to me, 'he has been alone in this boat since April 26th, and it's not going to hurt him to be alone two or three days more. And we'll have trouble with our own men if we take him back with us.'
"'What do you propose to do, sir?' I asked.
"'Explore that river, Mr. Blackett. We've got to try and solve this mystery somehow.'
"So we pulled back to our own ship, and I gave the necessary orders. The men were standing about in bunches talking in low voices, and it wasn't until the old man got going that they bestirred themselves. Of course they'd scented trouble—anyone with half an eye could