An Antarctic Mystery | Page 7

I was struck by the sadness
of his eyes, which were as black as ink. Then in a very low voice he
asked:
"You are a stranger?"
"A stranger at the Kerguelens? Yes."
"Of English nationality?"
"No. American."
He saluted me, and I returned the curt gesture.
"Sir," I resumed, "I believe Mr. Atkins of the Green Cormorant has
spoken to you respecting a proposal of mine. That proposal, it seems to
me, deserved a favourable reception on the part of a--"
"The proposal to take passage on my ship?" interposed Captain Len
Guy.
"Precisely."
"I regret, sir, I regret that I could not agree to your request."
"Will you tell me why?"
"Because I am not in the habit of taking passengers. That is the first
reason."

"And the second, captain?"
"Because the route of the Halbrane is never settled beforehand. She
starts for one port and goes to another, just as I find it to my advantage.
You must know that I am not in the service of a shipowner. My share in
the schooner is considerable, and I have no one but myself to consult in
respect to her."
"Then it entirely depends on you to give me a passage?"
"That is so, but I can only answer you by a refusal--to my extreme
regret."
"Perhaps you will change your mind, captain, when you know that I
care very little what the destination of your schooner may be. It is not
unreasonable to suppose that she will go somewhere--"
"Somewhere indeed." I fancied that Captain Len Guy threw a long look
towards the southern horizon.
"To go here or to go there is almost a matter of indifference to me.
What I desired above all was to get away from Kerguelen at the first
opportunity that should offer."
Captain Len Guy made me no answer; he remained in silent thought,
but did not endeavour to slip away from me.
"You are doing me the honour to listen to me?" I asked him sharply.
"Yes, sir."
"I will then add that, if I am not mistaken, and if the route of your ship
has not been altered, it was your intention to leave Christmas Harbour
for Tristan d'Acunha."
"Perhaps for Tristan d'Acunha, perhaps for the Cape, perhaps for the
Falklands, perhaps for elsewhere."
"Well, then, Captain Guy, it is precisely elsewhere that I want to go," I

replied ironically, and trying hard to control my irritation.
Then a singular change took place in the demeanour of Captain Len
Guy. His voice became more sharp and harsh. In very plain words he
made me understand that it was quite useless to insist, that Our
interview had already lasted too long, that time pressed, and he had
business at the port; in short that we had said all that we could have to
say to each other.
I had put out my arm to detain him--to seize him would be a more
correct term--and the conversation, ill begun, seemed likely to end still
more ill, when this odd person turned towards me and said in a milder
tone,--
"Pray understand, sir, that I am very sorry to be unable to do what you
ask, and to appear disobliging to an American. But I could not act
otherwise. In the course of the voyage of the Halbrane some
unforeseen incident might occur to make the presence of a passenger
inconvenient--even one so accommodating as yourself. Thus I might
expose myself to the risk of being unable to profit by the chances
which I seek."
"I have told you, captain, and I repeat it, that although my intention is
to return to America and to Connecticut, I don't care whether I get there
in three months or in six, or by what route; it's all the same to me, and
even were your schooner to take me to the Antarctic seas--"
"The Antarctic seas!" exclaimed Captain Len Guy with a question in
his tone. And his look searched my thoughts with the keenness of a
dagger.
"Why do you speak of the Antarctic seas?" he asked, taking my hand.
"Well, just as I might have spoken of the 'Hyperborean seas' from
whence an Irish poet has made Sebastian Cabot address some lovely
verses to his Lady.1 I spoke of the South Pole as I might have spoken
of the North."

Captain Len Guy did not answer, and I thought I saw tears glisten in his
eyes. Then, as though he would escape from some harrowing
recollection which my words had evoked, he said,--
"Who would venture to seek the South Pole?"
"It would be difficult to reach, and the experiments would be of no
practical use," I replied. "Nevertheless there are men sufficiently
adventurous to embark in such an enterprise."
"Yes--adventurous is the word!" muttered