Chapter XXVI--Burning Daylight

by Jack London

　　The ten days of Tudor's convalescence that followed were peacefuldays on Berande. The work of the plantation went on like clock-work. With the crushing of the premature outbreak of Gogoomy andhis following, all insubordination seemed to have vanished. Twentymore of the old-time boys, their term of service up, were carriedaway by the Martha, and the fresh stock of labour, treated fairly,was proving of excellent quality. As Sheldon rode about theplantation, acknowledging to himself the comfort and convenience ofa horse and wondering why he had not thought of getting onehimself, he pondered the various improvements for which Joan wasresponsible--the splendid Poonga-Poonga recruits; the fruits andvegetables; the Martha herself, snatched from the sea for a songand earning money hand over fist despite old Kinross's slow andsafe method of running her; and Berande, once more financiallysecure, approaching each day nearer the dividend-paying time, andgrowing each day as the black toilers cleared the bush, cut thecane-grass, and planted more cocoanut palms.

　　In these and a thousand ways Sheldon was made aware of how much hewas indebted for material prosperity to Joan--to the slender,level-browed girl with romance shining out of her gray eyes andadventure shouting from the long-barrelled Colt's on her hip, whohad landed on the beach that piping gale, along with her stalwartTahitian crew, and who had entered his bungalow to hang with boy'shands her revolver-belt and Baden-Powell hat on the nail by thebilliard table. He forgot all the early exasperations, rememberingonly her charms and sweetnesses and glorying much in the traits heat first had disliked most--her boyishness and adventurousness, herdelight to swim and risk the sharks, her desire to go recruiting,her love of the sea and ships, her sharp authoritative words whenshe launched the whale-boat and, with firestick in one hand anddynamite-stick in the other, departed with her picturesque crew toshoot fish in the Balesuna; her super-innocent disdain for thecommonest conventions, her juvenile joy in argument, herfluttering, wild-bird love of freedom and mad passion forindependence. All this he now loved, and he no longer desired totame and hold her, though the paradox was the winning of herwithout the taming and the holding.

　　There were times when he was dizzy with thought of her and love ofher, when he would stop his horse and with closed eyes picture heras he had seen her that first day, in the stern-sheets of thewhale-boat, dashing madly in to shore and marching belligerentlyalong his veranda to remark that it was pretty hospitality thisletting strangers sink or swim in his front yard. And as he openedhis eyes and urged his horse onward, he would ponder for the tenthousandth time how possibly he was ever to hold her when she wasso wild and bird-like that she was bound to flutter out and awayfrom under his hand.

　　It was patent to Sheldon that Tudor had become interested in Joan.That convalescent visitor practically lived on the veranda, though,while preposterously weak and shaky in the legs, he had for sometime insisted on coming in to join them at the table at meals. Thefirst warning Sheldon had of the other's growing interest in thegirl was when Tudor eased down and finally ceased pricking him withhis habitual sharpness of quip and speech. This cessation ofverbal sparring was like the breaking off of diplomatic relationsbetween countries at the beginning of war, and, once Sheldon'ssuspicions were aroused, he was not long in finding otherconfirmations. Tudor too obviously joyed in Joan's presence, tooobviously laid himself out to amuse and fascinate her with his ownglorious and adventurous personality. Often, after his morningride over the plantation, or coming in from the store or frominspection of the copra-drying, Sheldon found the pair of themtogether on the veranda, Joan listening, intent and excited, andTudor deep in some recital of personal adventure at the ends of theearth.

　　Sheldon noticed, too, the way Tudor looked at her and followed herabout with his eyes, and in those eyes he noted a certain hungrylook, and on the face a certain wistful expression; and he wonderedif on his own face he carried a similar involuntary advertisement.He was sure of several things: first, that Tudor was not the rightman for Joan and could not possibly make her permanently happy;next, that Joan was too sensible a girl really to fall in love witha man of such superficial stamp; and, finally, that Tudor wouldblunder his love-making somehow. And at the same time, with truelover's anxiety, Sheldon feared that the other might somehow failto blunder, and win the girl with purely fortuitous and successfulmeretricious show. But of the one thing Sheldon was sure: Tudorhad no intimate knowledge of her and was unaware of how vital inher was her wildness and love of independence. That was where hewould blunder--in the catching and the holding of her. And then,in spite of all his certitude, Sheldon could not forbear wonderingif his theories of Joan might not be wrong, and if Tudor was notgoing the right way about after all.

　　The situation was very unsatisfactory and perplexing. Sheldonplayed the difficult part of waiting and looking on, while hisrival devoted himself energetically to reaching out and grasping atthe fluttering prize. Then, again, Tudor had such an irritatingway about him. It had become quite elusive and intangible, nowthat he had tacitly severed diplomatic relations; but Sheldonsensed what he deemed a growing antagonism and promptly magnifiedit through the jealous lenses of his own lover's eyes. The otherwas an interloper. He did not belong to Berande, and now that hewas well and strong again it was time for him to go. Instead ofwhich, and despite the calling in of the mail steamer bound forSydney, Tudor had settled himself down comfortably, resumedswimming, went dynamiting fish with Joan, spent hours with herhunting pigeons, trapping crocodiles, and at target practice withrifle and revolver.

　　But there were certain traditions of hospitality that preventedSheldon from breathing a hint that it was time for his guest totake himself off. And in similar fashion, feeling that it was notplaying the game, he fought down the temptation to warn Joan. Hadhe known anything, not too serious, to Tudor's detriment, he wouldhave been unable to utter it; but the worst of it was that he knewnothing at all against the man. That was the confounded part ofit, and sometimes he was so baffled and overwrought by his feelingsthat he assumed a super-judicial calm and assured himself that hisdislike of Tudor was a matter of unsubstantial prejudice andjealousy.

　　Outwardly, he maintained a calm and smiling aspect. The work ofthe plantation went on. The Martha and the Flibberty-Gibbet cameand went, as did all the miscellany of coasting craft that droppedin to wait for a breeze and have a gossip, a drink or two, and agame of billiards. Satan kept the compound free of niggers.Boucher came down regularly in his whale-boat to pass Sunday.Twice a day, at breakfast and dinner, Joan and Sheldon and Tudormet amicably at table, and the evenings were as amicably spent onthe veranda.

　　And then it happened. Tudor made his blunder. Never diviningJoan's fluttering wildness, her blind hatred of restraint andcompulsion, her abhorrence of mastery by another, and mistaking thewarmth and enthusiasm in her eyes (aroused by his latest tale) forsomething tender and acquiescent, he drew her to him, laid aforcible detaining arm about her waist, and misapprehended herfrantic revolt for an exhibition of maidenly reluctance. Itoccurred on the veranda, after breakfast, and Sheldon, within,pondering a Sydney wholesaler's catalogue and making up his ordersfor next steamer-day, heard the sharp exclamation of Joan, followedby the equally sharp impact of an open hand against a cheek.Jerking free from the arm that was all distasteful compulsion, Joanhad slapped Tudor's face resoundingly and with far more vim andweight than when she had cuffed Gogoomy.

　　Sheldon had half-started up, then controlled himself and sunk backin his chair, so that by the time Joan entered the door hiscomposure was recovered. Her right fore-arm was clutched tightlyin her left hand, while the white cheeks, centred with the spots offlaming red, reminded him of the time he had first seen her angry.

　　"He hurt my arm," she blurted out, in reply to his look of inquiry.

　　He smiled involuntarily. It was so like her, so like the boy shewas, to come running to complain of the physical hurt which hadbeen done her. She was certainly not a woman versed in the ways ofman and in the ways of handling man. The resounding slap she hadgiven Tudor seemed still echoing in Sheldon's ears, and as helooked at the girl before him crying out that her arm was hurt, hissmile grew broader.

　　It was the smile that did it, convicting Joan in her own eyes ofthe silliness of her cry and sending over her face the most amazingblush he had ever seen. Throat, cheeks, and forehead flamed withthe rush of the shamed blood.

　　"He--he--" she attempted to vindicate her deeper indignation, thenwhirled abruptly away and passed out the rear door and down thesteps.

　　Sheldon sat and mused. He was a trifle angry, and the more hedwelt upon the happening the angrier he grew. If it had been anywoman except Joan it would have been amusing. But Joan was thelast woman in the world to attempt to kiss forcibly. The thingsmacked of the back stairs anyway--a sordid little comedy perhaps,but to have tried it on Joan was nothing less than sacrilege. Theman should have had better sense. Then, too, Sheldon waspersonally aggrieved. He had been filched of something that hefelt was almost his, and his lover's jealousy was rampant atthought of this forced familiarity.

　　It was while in this mood that the screen door banged loudly behindthe heels of Tudor, who strode into the room and paused before him.Sheldon was unprepared, though it was very apparent that the otherwas furious.

　　"Well?" Tudor demanded defiantly.

　　And on the instant speech rushed to Sheldon's lips.

　　"I hope you won't attempt anything like it again, that's all--except that I shall be only too happy any time to extend to you thecourtesy of my whale-boat. It will land you in Tulagi in a fewhours."

　　"As if that would settle it," was the retort.

　　"I don't understand," Sheldon said simply.

　　"Then it is because you don't wish to understand."

　　"Still I don't understand," Sheldon said in steady, level tones."All that is clear to me is that you are exaggerating your ownblunder into something serious."

　　Tudor grinned maliciously and replied, -

　　"It would seem that you are doing the exaggerating, inviting me toleave in your whale-boat. It is telling me that Berande is not bigenough for the pair of us. Now let me tell you that the SolomonIslands is not big enough for the pair of us. This thing's got tobe settled between us, and it may as well be settled right here andnow."

　　"I can understand your fire-eating manners as being natural toyou," Sheldon went on wearily, "but why you should try them on meis what I can't comprehend. You surely don't want to quarrel withme."

　　"I certainly do."

　　"But what in heaven's name for?"

　　Tudor surveyed him with withering disgust.

　　"You haven't the soul of a louse. I suppose any man could makelove to your wife--"

　　"But I have no wife," Sheldon interrupted.

　　"Then you ought to have. The situation is outrageous. You mightat least marry her, as I am honourably willing to do."

　　For the first time Sheldon's rising anger boiled over.

　　"You--" he began violently, then abruptly caught control of himselfand went on soothingly, "you'd better take a drink and think itover. That's my advice to you. Of course, when you do get cool,after talking to me in this fashion you won't want to stay on anylonger, so while you're getting that drink I'll call the boat's-crew and launch a boat. You'll be in Tulagi by eight thisevening."

　　He turned toward the door, as if to put his words into execution,but the other caught him by the shoulder and twirled him around.

　　"Look here, Sheldon, I told you the Solomons were too small for thepair of us, and I meant it."

　　"Is that an offer to buy Berande, lock, stock, and barrel?" Sheldonqueried.

　　"No, it isn't. It's an invitation to fight."

　　"But what the devil do you want to fight with me for?" Sheldon'sirritation was growing at the other's persistence. "I've noquarrel with you. And what quarrel can you have with me? I havenever interfered with you. You were my guest. Miss Lackland is mypartner. If you saw fit to make love to her, and somehow failed tosucceed, why should you want to fight with me? This is thetwentieth century, my dear fellow, and duelling went out of fashionbefore you and I were born."

　　"You began the row," Tudor doggedly asserted. "You gave me tounderstand that it was time for me to go. You fired me out of yourhouse, in short. And then you have the cheek to want to know why Iam starting the row. It won't do, I tell you. You started it, andI am going to see it through."

　　Sheldon smiled tolerantly and proceeded to light a cigarette. ButTudor was not to be turned aside.

　　"You started this row," he urged.

　　"There isn't any row. It takes two to make a row, and I, for one,refuse to have anything to do with such tomfoolery."

　　"You started it, I say, and I'll tell you why you started it."

　　"I fancy you've been drinking," Sheldon interposed. "It's the onlyexplanation I can find for your unreasonableness."

　　"And I'll tell you why you started it. It wasn't silliness on yourpart to exaggerate this little trifle of love-making into somethingserious. I was poaching on your preserves, and you wanted to getrid of me. It was all very nice and snug here, you and the girl,until I came along. And now you're jealous--that's it, jealousy--and want me out of it. But I won't go."

　　"Then stay on by all means. I won't quarrel with you about it.Make yourself comfortable. Stay for a year, if you wish."

　　"She's not your wife," Tudor continued, as though the other had notspoken. "A fellow has the right to make love to her unless she'syour--well, perhaps it was an error after all, due to ignorance,perfectly excusable, on my part. I might have seen it with half aneye if I'd listened to the gossip on the beach. All Guvutu andTulagi were laughing about it. I was a fool, and I certainly madethe mistake of taking the situation on its assumed innocent face-value."

　　So angry was Sheldon becoming that the face and form of the otherseemed to vibrate and oscillate before his eyes. Yet outwardlySheldon was calm and apparently weary of the discussion.

　　"Please keep her out of the conversation," he said.

　　"But why should I?" was the demand. "The pair of you trapped meinto making a fool of myself. How was I to know that everythingwas not all right? You and she acted as if everything were on thesquare. But my eyes are open now. Why, she played the outragedwife to perfection, slapped the transgressor and fled to you.Pretty good proof of what all the beach has been saying. Partners,eh?--a business partnership? Gammon my eye, that's what it is."

　　Then it was that Sheldon struck out, coolly and deliberately, withall the strength of his arm, and Tudor, caught on the jaw, fellsideways, crumpling as he did so and crushing a chair to kindlingwood beneath the weight of his falling body. He pulled himselfslowly to his feet, but did not offer to rush.

　　"Now will you fight?" Tudor said grimly.

　　Sheldon laughed, and for the first time with true spontaneity. Theintrinsic ridiculousness of the situation was too much for hissense of humour. He made as if to repeat the blow, but Tudor,white of face, with arms hanging resistlessly at his sides, offeredno defence.

　　"I don't mean a fight with fists," he said slowly. "I mean to afinish, to the death. You're a good shot with revolver and rifle.So am I. That's the way we'll settle it."

　　"You have gone clean mad. You are a lunatic."

　　"No, I'm not," Tudor retorted. "I'm a man in love. And once againI ask you to go outside and settle it, with any weapons youchoose."

　　Sheldon regarded him for the first time with genuine seriousness,wondering what strange maggots could be gnawing in his brain todrive him to such unusual conduct.

　　"But men don't act this way in real life," Sheldon remarked.

　　"You'll find I'm pretty real before you're done with me. I'm goingto kill you to-day."

　　"Bosh and nonsense, man." This time Sheldon had lost his temperover the superficial aspects of the situation. "Bosh and nonsense,that's all it is. Men don't fight duels in the twentieth century.It's--it's antediluvian, I tell you."

　　"Speaking of Joan--"

　　"Please keep her name out of it," Sheldon warned him.

　　"I will, if you'll fight."

　　Sheldon threw up his arms despairingly.

　　"Speaking of Joan--"

　　"Look out," Sheldon warned again.

　　"Oh, go ahead, knock me down. But that won't close my mouth. Youcan knock me down all day, but as fast as I get to my feet I'llspeak of Joan again. Now will you fight?"

　　"Listen to me, Tudor," Sheldon began, with an effort atdecisiveness. "I am not used to taking from men a tithe of whatI've already taken from you."

　　"You'll take a lot more before the day's out," was the answer. "Itell you, you simply must fight. I'll give you a fair chance tokill me, but I'll kill you before the day's out. This isn'tcivilization. It's the Solomon Islands, and a pretty primitiveproposition for all that. King Edward and law and order arerepresented by the Commissioner at Tulagi and an occasionalvisiting gunboat. And two men and one woman is an equallyprimitive proposition. We'll settle it in the good old primitiveway."

　　As Sheldon looked at him the thought came to his mind that afterall there might be something in the other's wild adventures overthe earth. It required a man of that calibre, a man capable ofobtruding a duel into orderly twentieth century life, to find suchwild adventures.

　　"There's only one way to stop me," Tudor went on. "I can't insultyou directly, I know. You are too easy-going, or cowardly, orboth, for that. But I can narrate for you the talk of the beach--ah, that grinds you, doesn't it? I can tell you what the beach hasto say about you and this young girl running a plantation under abusiness partnership."

　　"Stop!" Sheldon cried, for the other was beginning to vibrate andoscillate before his eyes. "You want a duel. I'll give it toyou." Then his common-sense and dislike for the ridiculousasserted themselves, and he added, "But it's absurd, impossible."

　　"Joan and David--partners, eh? Joan and David--partners," Tudorbegan to iterate and reiterate in a malicious and scornful chant.

　　"For heaven's sake keep quiet, and I'll let you have your way,"Sheldon cried. "I never saw a fool so bent on his folly. Whatkind of a duel shall it be? There are no seconds. What weaponsshall we use?"

　　Immediately Tudor's monkey-like impishness left him, and he wasonce more the cool, self-possessed man of the world.

　　"I've often thought that the ideal duel should be somewhatdifferent from the conventional one," he said. "I've foughtseveral of that sort, you know--"

　　"French ones," Sheldon interrupted.

　　"Call them that. But speaking of this ideal duel, here it is. Noseconds, of course, and no onlookers. The two principals alone arenecessary. They may use any weapons they please, from revolversand rifles to machine guns and pompoms. They start a mile apart,and advance on each other, taking advantage of cover, retreating,circling, feinting--anything and everything permissible. In short,the principals shall hunt each other--"

　　"Like a couple of wild Indians?"

　　"Precisely," cried Tudor, delighted. "You've got the idea. AndBerande is just the place, and this is just the right time. MissLackland will be taking her siesta, and she'll think we are. We'vegot two hours for it before she wakes. So hurry up and come on.You start out from the Balesuna and I start from the Berande.Those two rivers are the boundaries of the plantation, aren't they?Very well. The field of the duel will be the plantation. Neitherprincipal must go outside its boundaries. Are you satisfied?"

　　"Quite. But have you any objections if I leave some orders?"

　　"Not at all," Tudor acquiesced, the pink of courtesy now that hiswish had been granted.

　　Sheldon clapped his hands, and the running house-boy hurried awayto bring back Adamu Adam and Noa Noah.

　　"Listen," Sheldon said to them. "This man and me, we have one bigfight to-day. Maybe he die. Maybe I die. If he die, all right.If I die, you two look after Missie Lackalanna. You take rifles,and you look after her daytime and night-time. If she want to talkwith Mr. Tudor, all right. If she not want to talk, you make himkeep away. Savvee?"

　　They grunted and nodded. They had had much to do with white men,and had learned never to question the strange ways of the strangebreed. If these two saw fit to go out and kill each other, thatwas their business and not the business of the islanders, who tookorders from them. They stepped to the gun-rack, and each picked arifle.

　　"Better all Tahitian men have rifles," suggested Adamu Adam."Maybe big trouble come."

　　"All right, you take them," Sheldon answered, busy with issuing theammunition.

　　They went to the door and down the steps, carrying the eight riflesto their quarters. Tudor, with cartridge-belts for rifle andpistol strapped around him, rifle in hand, stood impatientlywaiting.

　　"Come on, hurry up; we're burning daylight," he urged, as Sheldonsearched after extra clips for his automatic pistol.

　　Together they passed down the steps and out of the compound to thebeach, where they turned their backs to each other, and eachproceeded toward his destination, their rifles in the hollows oftheir arms, Tudor walking toward the Berande and Sheldon toward theBalesuna.