CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

As soon as the launch came up alongside the cruiser “New Orleans” it was fastened to the block and tackle of its davit and hoisted up until it was level with the main deck. When this had been done it was pulled inboard, and from this position the wounded pirate was lifted out under the supervision of the surgeon and carried down to the ship’s hospital.

Redmond and the two officers had previously got off the launch and had gone up the accommodation ladder. Captain Moore was on deck to meet them.

“Well, I guess our job’s done, captain,” said Redmond.

“Yes,” replied the commander. “We were very lucky in many ways, especially in the fortunate arrival of our airplane squadron. The government owes you a great deal, though. If it hadn’t been for your splendid work, the pirate would have still been operating.”

Redmond flushed under the praise, stuttered a moment and changing the embarrassing subject, said:

“How is the pilot of the ship which we brought down?”

“Ah! there’s where we were unlucky,” replied Captain Moore. “That pilot was the commander of the squadron, and he’s in very bad shape suffering from shock.”

“I’m sorry to hear that indeed. He certainly had his nerve attacking the way he did. Who is he?”

“Commander Fitzgerald.”

“What!” exclaimed Redmond in astonishment.

The captain looked at him, surprised at the manner in which he spoke. “Why, do you know him?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Redmond sharply.

“Well he’s on the quarterdeck now, resting easily the last time I saw him. Miss Ingleton is nursing him. Do you want to see him?”

Redmond pondered a moment before replying. The news imparted to him innocently enough by Captain Moore had brought him back from the realm of action and excitement into that of sentiment. For several seconds his mind was prey to a score of bitter thoughts. Again he fought with himself as he realized that another man stood between him and the possibility of his future happiness. The knowledge enraged him, and for the first time in his life he experienced the violence of hatred.

He hated himself as well, and in his mind he railed at the fate which had led him to the altar of love and then dashed happiness from his grasp. He was more than ever convinced that Mary and Fitzgerald were betrothed. The words uttered many weeks ago by the Base Commander at Honolulu, which clearly indicated it, came back to taunt him as he struggled with his conflicting emotions.

Finally his better nature began to exert itself. At least, he argued with himself, Mary would be happy now, and after all that was the most important thing. He turned to Captain Moore and said:

“I guess I’ll go over and see him.”

The two started aft. As they reached the quarterdeck Mary Ingleton happened to glance up from the cot on which Fitzgerald was lying. She jumped to her feet and rushed over to him, holding her hands out to Redmond.

“Oh! I’m so glad to see you, Howard,” she exclaimed. “I was worried to death about you while that dreadful fight was going on.”

Redmond was completely overcome by the warmth of her greeting, which he did not expect. He took her hands in his, but managed to hold himself in check.

“I’m so glad you’re glad, Mary,” he said.

His quiet reply dampened her enthusiasm, and she looked at him somewhat puzzled. Captain Moore had already gone ahead toward Fitzgerald, so they were left standing together. Redmond was the first to speak again.

“I was sorry to hear about Fitzgerald,” he said.

“Yes,” replied Mary, “he is seriously hurt.”

“It must have been a great blow to you, Mary. I hope he will soon get well because you deserve happiness after all you have been through.”

“Why, Howard!” she exclaimed. “How strangely you speak! I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Aren’t you and he engaged?” queried Redmond.

“Why no,” laughed Mary. “Whatever put that silly notion in your head?”

“You’re not?” he exclaimed in surprise.

She heartily laughed at his astonishment, then she replied.

“No! I’m not engaged to anyone,” she said with a taunting air.

“Oh! Mary,” he gasped haltingly.

“Yes, Howard.”

“Oh! What can I say? I love you with all my heart. I’ve been dying to tell you for a long, long time, but I thought you were already engaged, and I didn’t dare.”

“Why you poor silly boy. I’ve known it for weeks,” she said gently.

“Can you love me too?” he pleaded.

She looked at him teasingly, with laughter in her eyes, watching his evident anxiety. Then as the lines upon his face deepened she lowered her glance and said:

“I do.”