The Captain of the Polestar, and Other TalesDoyle, Arthur Conan
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The Captain of the Polestar, and Other Tales
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Short stories, English
“As to the voyage itself, your intelligence will have told you by this
time that, thanks to my manipulation, both compasses and chronometers
were entirely untrustworthy. I alone worked out the course with correct
instruments of my own, while the steering was done by my black friends
under my guidance. I pushed Tibbs’s wife overboard. What! You look
surprised and shrink away. Surely you had guessed that by this time. I
would have shot you that day through the partition, but unfortunately
you were not there. I tried again afterwards, but you were awake. I shot
Tibbs. I think the idea of suicide was carried out rather neatly.
Of course when once we got on the coast the rest was simple. I had
bargained that all on board should die; but that stone of yours upset my
plans. I also bargained that there should be no plunder. No one can
say we are pirates. We have acted from principle, not from any sordid
motive.”
I listened in amazement to the summary of his crimes which this strange
man gave me, all in the quietest and most composed of voices, as though
detailing incidents of every-day occurrence. I still seem to see him
sitting like a hideous nightmare at the end of my couch, with the single
rude lamp flickering over his cadaverous features.
“And now,” he continued, “there is no difficulty about your escape.
These stupid adopted children of mine will say that you have gone back
to heaven from whence you came. The wind blows off the land. I have
a boat all ready for you, well stored with provisions and water. I am
anxious to be rid of you, so you may rely that nothing is neglected.
Rise up and follow me.”
I did what he commanded, and he led me through the door of the hut.
The guards had either been withdrawn, or Goring had arranged matters
with them. We passed unchallenged through the town and across the sandy
plain. Once more I heard the roar of the sea, and saw the long white
line of the surge. Two figures were standing upon the shore arranging
the gear of a small boat. They were the two sailors who had been with us
on the voyage.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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